#though this is more than three sentences lol like many of my fills are for that event

[rosemirmir]

(Short Spamina fic I did for three sentence ficathon on Dreamwidth! Prompt was: Any fandom, any characters, accidentally falling asleep on each other.)

Spanner could tell how exhausted Minato was. Not like it wasn't already blatantly obvious to begin with. He was barely able to stay upright as his eyes would slowly close, before he shook himself back up again. Why Minato chose to keep going with doing two entire teaching jobs despite all of the effects it had on him was anybody's guess.

"Senpai." Spanner spoke flatly, "We can't continue like this, you need to rest."

"Hmm...? I'm fine Spanner. Really." Though with how he spoke, as sleepiness coated his voice, it gave the impression of Minato being anything but. He laid his head on Spanner's shoulder to get a better look at the mountain of paperwork from the Union that was laid before them. "Now, what does the next form say..."

That was when Minato dozed off mid sentence. Peacefully sleeping on Spanner's shoulder, who couldn't help but smile as he sighed.

It was time for a much needed break.

[violetsarepurple-fuckyou]

WIP Game

I am so incredibly late to the party on this one! But! I was so incredibly honored to be invited!!! @eliotqueliot tagged me, and this was the first time I have EVER been tagged in something like this, so even though my response is late to a degree of insanity, please know that it literally filled me with an explosion of joy that I was thought of and included 💕

Ok, Rules: In a new post, post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs. Buckle in folks, I have SO many.

I'm keeping it just to The Magicians, but if anyone would like me to repeat this process with other fandoms I am in but not primarily focused on right this moment (like Merlin or TMA, both of which I have pretty solid handfuls of fics in the works for that I will get around to eventually) feel free to ask! Also feel free to ask me literally anything about any of my fics at any time, because that would actually excite me beyond all mortal comprehension! OK! Here goes.

And just so everyone knows, a lot of my docs are just named with an autofill of part of the first sentence written there, so I'm really going to get some mileage out of the 'non-descriptive and ridiculous' part of the rule lol

The memory wipe was not

A Reluctant Coin Toss

Something Borrowed

(Eliot steals the Time Key)

5+1+3

Queliot dnd fic

Brian walks through his favorite bookstore

And Death was a Joke

Vampire Eliot series season two

Green-eyed Monster

The Cottage was empty and quiet – somewhat shockingly seeing as most of those missing in attendance were hardly social butterflies – but three first year additions (and Penny) to the Physical Kids residence was more than was customary and the whole building was just a lot less densely packed without them.

Quell Your Love Spell

Eliot Waugh's Adventures in Soothing a High-strung Super Nerd

Eliot was right

Eliot and Quentin have been… weird since Margo retrieved the Time Key.

Fen's eyes sparkle when she cries

Of Prophecies -- Princes, Parrots, Pirates, and Paupers -- and the Prepared

Sksksksksk

Fennel Seeds

Excerpt from A Flock of Lost Birds – Book One of The Adventures of Sam Cunningham series:

I think that is all of them??? All of the ones I actually have stuff written for and not in a notebook anyway lol, I have more ideas and snippets scattered across various journals. Please please please ask me questions, holy shit, I would love that! Honestly, I cannot think of anyone to tag that hasn't been already, so I'm gonna leave this here I think.

[eyesontheskyline]

😭💰📌

And not an emoji but a question. Which chapter of no such thing did you find the hardest to write!?

Hi!

😭 Have you ever made yourself cry writing a fic?

Yeah. I'm a crier honestly, so it doesn't take much, but reckless was a lot. I'm the lapsed Catholic child of teen parents, and I had my own baby in lockdown with the world falling apart around me, isolated from pretty much everyone who would've been supportive, and basically entirely without any sense of like... happiness or normality. So yeah, various parts of all three chapters of that made me cry lol.

💰 What’s one trope you wouldn’t write, except for money?

Note a trope really, but I wouldn't touch x reader (except for money loool, there's definitely enough money out there to sway me).

Any sort of dubious consent is also very much not for me, and anything kind of age play / daddy or mommy kink... all that stuff.

📌 If all your fics/WIPs fell off a ship and were drowning (go with it), and you could only save one, which would it be?

This is a brutal question hahaha I love all my babies! But probably no such thing as over this? It's still fun for me to reread, and it was always my answer to 'what's one fic idea you'll probably never write' because it felt too big for me. Like I felt like I couldn't do it justice or I'd never follow through or whatever. So I like it and I'm proud of it and honestly just the fact of having both started and finished it is a big deal for me.

Aaaaand which chapter of no such thing was hardest to write?

Ha there are so many contenders for this! My first thought is maybe chapter three - I did a lot of deleting and restarting and restructuring. It was quite a lot of ground to cover practically, and initially the whole team helped Emily move in instead of just Morgan and Garcia, but it just didn't feel right. (It felt too much like the shortcut the show started taking with that pasta cooking lesson and then didn't stop honestly - just jamming all the characters in a room and not really doing anything with them.) So yeah I had a lot of false starts with almost every single part of that chapter lol. I was still figuring out how to write around canon too, really wrestling myself away from the impulse to try and fill in every little moment.

And it has Emily crying on the floor by herself with her cat, which I really liked, but also found really hard to write. Like, my writing style has been (very generously lol) described as 'practical', and I consistently struggle writing characters crying (or doing any other sustained activity to be fair) for any amount of time. For the reader to end up with the impression that it's been a long time, they need to be reading about it for more than one sentence, and it just took me a while to figure out how to write it well. I think (on this one occasion) it turned out okay.

Chapter six too though, which spanned four episodes and had no particular plot points for me to hit but I needed to lay the groundwork for Emily and Garcia's friendship and end up with an Emily and Hotch who might plausibly have an open, vulnerable version of the "having a bad day" conversation with each other.

I struggled in a lot of places and I had a lot of blank page anxiety every time I moved onto a new chapter, but I think these were the ones I really struggled to make work.

Thank you so much for asking, I appreciate you, kind anon ❤️

[aviatorasharak]

Writer Interview

I've been tagged (shouted the same way one would "I've been hit") by the wonderful @theycallmeratt

When did you start writing?

I, let's say, experimented in high-school, writing here and there, finishing maybe 2 shorter stories in total and starting 10 more. I recently found some of those writings, and I was unable to read more than two sentences... The cringe was overwhelming, lol~ I also won a competition with a short story I've written specifically for that, though thinking back, it was probably a case of "only one person bothered entering".

As for my "real" beginnings, I finished the short story that started my streak that's still ongoing in the beginning of 2021. That was in my native language (Hungarian). I began writing in English less than a year ago

Are there different themes or genres you enjoy reading than what you write?

I enjoy detective stories, the build-up, the mystery, everything falling into place at the end so neatly. Bonus points if the story has a deeply emotional side to it (Murder on the Orient Express comes to mind). I also like mythological tales, although I do have one short story that tries to emulate that style to some degree.

Is there a writer you want to emulate or get compared to often?

Terry Pratchett. As in trying to emulate at times (though I do want to establish my own style). My only regret is not starting to read his books sooner.

There are also some other writers who use humour or absurdity in their writings which I'm fond of overall, but I'm very, very far from that.

Can you tell me a bit about your writing space?

I either feel best writing at night (or at least when it's already dark outside and I have no reasonable responsibilities left for the day. Or have a slow, chill Saturday/Sunday with no other programs but to just write leisurely.

While I was writing in my native language to mostly two or three of my friends, I liked writing my first and second draft on paper. I used a couple of my old notebooks that still had enough empty pages in them and repurposed them this way. I also filled a couple new ones over the years. I kind of miss that, actually. I enjoyed the physical aspect of writing the pen and paper.

Now I'm writing fully digitally. Makes it easier to organize, search for specific parts etc. I use LibreOffice, because it's offline and free and has everything I need~

What's your most effective way to muster up a muse?

Sitting down and writing. It feels awful at times, especially when I feel all I'm writing down are disjointed sentences with half the words being placeholders (in different languages no less!). But so far, it's been proven effective. Once I cross that magical threshold, everything starts falling into place. Or at least, start looking coherent.

Also letting an idea/chapter/story sit for a bit.

Also lying awake at night.

Are there any recurring themes in your writing? Do they surprise you?

Fathers/fatherhood. It doesn't surprise me in the slightest, because it's very intentional most of the time. A father, to me, is akin to a mystical entity, the stuff of legends, its symbolism highly prevalent in our culture, yet eluding me in all my life, no matter how I yearned for it.

So I pour my pain into my art, as one does.

What is your reason for writing?

The nice, and probably very clichéd, answer to that is that I want to create stories. I believe humans have an innate need for stories, be it consuming or creating them. In many different forms, not just in writing.

The more personal answer is that I've been dreaming up fantastical scenarios and elaborate stories ever since I was a child (a rather lonely child at times) and part of me sometimes felt I should write some of these down to make them "legitimate", so to speak. Problem is, these personal stories were very wish-fulfilment-y, and deep down I felt they didn't contain enough struggle and drama. As I matured, so did my stories mature, and I became less of a benevolent god in them and more... human.

In the end, those stories stayed and stay inside my head still, because I choose to write down other ideas. Still, there's a part of me in those stories as well, which is inevitable in my opinion. Sharing those little parts of myself is basically me showing myself to the world, asking: "Am I all right (as a person/human being?"

Wow, this is becoming kinda heavy and personal. Well, writing is a personal thing, so~

Is there any specific comment or type of comment you find particularly motivating?

I like when people mention specifics because it signals to me that my writing was interesting enough for them to retain details. Bonus if they point out something I felt good about while writing it. A pun, an emotional moment, a payoff to something that's been building for 5+ chapters.

How do you want to be thought about by your readers?

Witty, clever, knowledgable, hilarious at time (intentionally perhaps)...

In all seriousness, a "storyteller." Plain and simple~

What do you feel is your greatest strength as a writer?

You're asking me to basically praise my own work, something I'm very uncomfortable with most of the time. I'm half-joking.

I think I do a pretty good job of keeping track of everything in a longer fic. Symbolism, references, objects of interest, etcetera. I also keep my notes fairly organized.

When you write, are you influenced by what others might enjoy reading, or do you write purely for yourself, or a mix of both?

Mix of both. While I have my own, self-indulgent ideas and fics, I also like to, let's say, cater to certain people who I know will read that particular story.

How do you feel about your own writing?

Sometimes, I feel it's pretty good. Then I start doubting myself, and have a brief urge to ask people basically, "Hey, is my writing... good? Passable?"

Fortunately, I've always been able to resist this, because I don't actually think it would be beneficial. As clichéd as it sounds, I have to find the answer within myself.

I do believe my writings are at least entertaining, and have good ideas with acceptable execution. And I am proud on some of them.

I do think I'm not well-read or know enough to put in interesting references (think Terry Pratchett).

[quintessencewrites]

Vanish

ShuRiri x Wakandan!fem!reader

“Nisale kakuhle zinkosi zenu (Goodbye, your majesties.)” You bow and exit, leaving the Queens in their despair. 

Warnings: ANGST, explicit language, toxic!Riri, slightly toxic!Shuri...you might cry

Word Count: 2.5k+

Tags: @yvxmpire @zestgodtj @k3nn3dyxo @mlmilani @letitias-fav @doms-fav @sweetalittleselfish-honey @g4yforu @remwritess @widowmakker @becauseimswagman1 @zayswriting @inmyheadimobsessed @laurensmabel1 @malltake12

A/N: Another idea by @k3nn3dyxo, loosely based on the song Vanish by GIVEON. There's so much damn angst in this one, it kind of broke my heart to write. As always though, enjoy <3 Translations are in the text, there are full on sentences in xhosa in this one. Also, just because I never said it before, every character I write for is a black woman. I love us <3 , okay that's all lol

It had been weeks. That wasn’t an over-exaggeration. The x’s tallied across your calendar were proof. 

Weeks. Three weeks since you and your loves last had a meal together. 

Shuri and Riri lay in bed as you dressed, the smaller girl of the two still soundly sleeping, tucked under the other’s arm. Her highness smiled a beautiful smile at you, one filled with pride and all the adoration in the world. “Have a wonderful day, sthandwa (my love). Go do amazing things.” 

A beautiful grin of your own spread through your cheeks as you bent down to kiss the woman you loved. “Thank you. I will see you two for dinner?”

“Kunjalo, sana (Of course, baby). I can not wait to hear all about your day.”

And off you went, thrill racing through your veins as you left the palace in trek of the school you helped Nakia establish in your home country, one which mirrored her own brilliant institution in Haiti. 

Returning home many hours later, exhaustion adorning your features, you were welcomed by loneliness. The room shared between you and the adjacent queens was empty, as were the kitchen and living quarters. 

“Griot,” your voice echoed the large walls, calling out to the AI that had made its way out of Shuri’s lab and into your living space. 

“Yes, My Queen?”

“Where are my wives?” the question lingered from your lips. 

“Queen Shuri and Queen Riri are currently in the lab. Would you like me to page them for you?”

The heart encapsulated in your chest swelled, knowing that both girls have had a hard time returning to their work since Queen Mother’s death. You couldn’t bring yourself to pull them away from that. 

“No, Griot. Thank you anyways.”

That night, you climbed into bed alone, body no longer able to fight the sleep that draped upon it. 

When you awoke the next morning, your queens were snoring next to you. They’d crawled in at some point in the night and the sandman whisked them to dreamland; neither girl stirred when you left the bed to prepare for another day at the school. 

The abnormality of abandonment that marked the previous day for you and your family soon became routine. One night turned into two and two into 21. Twenty one days since you’d gathered around the table to enjoy a meal with your loves. 

Two weeks since they’d stopped making excuses. 

“I’m so sorry, baby. Work has been fucking crazy, man. I got caught up. Can I make it up to you?” Riri hadn’t even had the decency to leave the lab for the moment it would’ve taken her to stand you up in person. Shuri was in America, sovereign duties unable to go ignored any longer. 

Even without her partner in crime, Riri still found ways to make her lab work more important than her time with you. 

“You can’t take a moment? Let’s have lunch, my love.” You were begging, a pathetic sight had Ri been able to pull her eyes from her project long enough to peer at you through the hologram provided via the beads. 

“Nah, ma. I’ll see you tonight, okay?”

Shuri was no better. 

“My Queen, where are you? The children are waiting, anticipating the Black Panther’s arrival.”

“Shit, usana (baby), that was today? Can we reschedule?”

“Can we re - No, Shuri! No, we can’t reschedule. These iingqondo ezincinci (little minds) have been waiting hours, missing lessons, to see their beloved protector. You promised.”

“I’m kind of caught up right now, y/n. Riri and I are about to do a test flight; the Iron Heart suit has to be able to reach speeds greater than Mach 5. We think we’ve got it.”

“Shuri plea-“

“Later, sthandwa (my love). I’ll make it up to you.”

And with that, her beads disconnected, erasing her face full of distracted features and leaving you with an auditorium packed with disappointed young ones. 

14 days ago, they stopped making excuses and empty promises, simply starting to just not showing up, not explaining. 

One week, exactly, since they forgot your birthday. 

It had been a hard year, you were well aware of that, but this day was one that never went by unnoticed by your queens. They spoiled you regularly, but on this day in particular, there was nothing that you couldn’t dream up that they wouldn’t move mountains to get you. 

You begrudgingly spent most of that special day alone this year. ‘They’re planning a surprise.’ you tried to convince yourself. Something so big, they had to spend the day away from you so they wouldn’t spoil it. 

Nakia and all the students at your school had wished you a happy birthday. Okoye granted you a year full of bliss as you aged up. Hell, even Griot spoke up when you arrived home from work, “Happy Birthday, Queen Y/n.” 

The damn AI had blessed your day before your wives had.

7 days later and they still hadn’t. 

You’d been patient; more than really. So when you awoke on the eighth day since your birthday to an empty bed, your thin restraint snapped, kindness fleeing with it.

You were angry, and you had every right to be.

The walk down to the lab was more of a march than a stroll. Rage preceded you, and when the lab doors opened before you, it permeated the space, quickly sucking out the focused atmosphere. 

“Queen Y/n has arrived,” Griot announded, oblivious to the fury preparing to reign down on the other Wakandan rulers. 

“Where are my queens, Griot?” You stood on the entrance platform, eyes scanning the room and coming up short of either girl. 

“Queen Riri is in the lab. Queen Shuri is thirty minutes out from the border, returning as we speak.”

Returning? Shuri had left the country and you weren’t even made aware.

“I’m down here, baby,” Riri’s voice was muffled among the buzz in the room, and you honestly couldn’t take it. 

“Wonke umntu ngaphandle (Everybody out),” your voice boomed. Riri was still struggling to learn the language and Shuri wasn’t here to translate, so you took command of the unfamiliar space. 

All around, the sea of white lab coats stilled, unsure. “Ngoku! (Now!)”

Their hesitations evaporated, and the scientists filed out of every exit in the room, leaving you and a confused Riri. You spotted your girl then, welder’s mask atop her head, slowly placing her tool down as you approached her. 

“Y/n, baby, I don’t have time for lunch today. These modifications have a deadline and-”

“Esihogweni ngomhla wakho wokugqibela (To hell with your deadline).”

Riri took a slight step back at your tone, “You know you’re gonna have to translate baby. I’m not there yet.”

At her retreat, you stepped forward, refusing to let her escape. “To hell with your deadline. My patience had a deadline too, Riri.”

Her guard drops, no longer taking your distraction in her lab as a serious matter. “Y/n, what are you going on about?”

When she raises her hand to drop the mask back onto her face, you scoff. She couldn’t even give you a moment to speak, nor an ounce of respect to hear your words. 

You step in front of her, risking being burned by the tool in her hands and not caring at all. Riri jumps back and switches the device off. “You gonna get yourself hurt, y/n! You know better than that; what the fuck is going on with you?”

“Queen Shuri has arrived,” Griot announces as she steps into the lab, panther suit still on, missing the mask. Her brows raise at the sight of her empty lab as she saunters over to you two.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” Shuri questions with a kiss to the side of your head. “Where is everyone?” she asks as she repeats the action on Riri. 

If looks could kill, you and Riri would both be six feet under, neither of you removing your glare from the other. “Ask her,” Riri retorts. “She came in spewing some shit I couldn’t understand and risking her life with tools she don’t know how to handle and shit.” Throwing the tool to the ground, Ri steps closer to you. She’s so close she could kiss you, but the fury emitting from her tells you she won’t. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Shuri grabs Riri’s upper arm, stopping the girl from approaching you any further. With furrowed brows, she speaks. “Sthandwa (my love), what’s going on?”

A deep chuckle filled with rage leaves your body. It’s an ugly sound coming from you, brimming with emotions you don’t usually possess. “This is the most attention I’ve gotten from either of you in weeks.”

“Attention?” Riri cries. “This is about you not getting attention?” She turns to Shuri, “Baby, we don’t have time for this!” Swiveling back to face you and shaking her arm free of the Black Panther’s hold, Riri steps forward to you, an angry finger in your face joining her dangerous words. “You’re not a child, y/n! We don’t have to come running every time you beckon and call.”

“Ri, calm down. Y/n, my love, nceda uqonde (understand, please). This work is important to us. You know that.” Shuri is speaking to you gently while Riri paces back and forth, hands clasped and running over her tight braids. 

“Bast, Shuri, we don’t have time for this,” Riri repeats. 

Shuri raises her hand to silence Riri but then lowers it onto the small of her back, pulling her in close. “Y/n, sthandwa (my love), singakwenza oku kamva? (can we do this later?)”

That’s it. That small movement opened your foolish eyes.

They were a team. Shuri and Riri. The Black Panther and Iron Heart.

And right now, they were teamed up against you. 

The action almost caused you doubt, your brain wracking to think of a way you may be in the wrong. 

You came up with nothing.

“Ungacinga lomtshato uphakathi kwenu nobabini qha (You would think this marriage was only between the two of you.”

Shuri’s head dips and when she looks back at you, sadness is in her gaze. “Ungathethi loo nto, sthandwa (Don’t say that, my love). You don’t mean that.”

Riri’s head is spinning between you two. “What did she say?”

Shuri is hesitant to answer. “Sh-she said that it seems as though our marriage is only between the two of us.”

While Shuri is making the effort to be gracious with your feelings, Riri just isn’t. She laughs, “Are you serious, yo? You go a few days without any affection and you start tripping?”

“Three weeks.”

“What?” Riri asks.

“Three weeks,” you parrot. “It has been three weeks.”

“Quit being dramatic, y/n-” But Ri’s words are silenced when you throw the calendar upon her work station. Across it are little notes marking the important women in you life’s promises that went broken on those important dates. Big, bold x’s mark out those days. 

“Three weeks ago,” you point at the date. “Was the day I started my duties at the school. You missed the grand opening; couldn’t even be bothered to have dinner with me that evening to celebrate. I went to bed alone that night. Have been ever since.”

Shuri’s eyes are wide and full of hurt, having forgotten the vow she made that you on that day. “We haven’t eaten together in three weeks? Haven’t gone to bed together in that long?”

You ignored her questions. Your voice had finally found you and you refused to let it go. “Two weeks ago, Riri, we were supposed to have lunch together. You’ve been blowing me off ever since. You, ubungangamsha bakho (your majesty), promised to bless the school with your presence. You failed to do so, and I spent six hours consoling some very upset children.”

Next came the date with a bold red circle engulfing it. ‘My Birthday!’ the note read. “One week ago,” your voice cracks. “This one is pretty self-explanatory.”

Tears are falling from Shuri’s face. “How could we-”

Riri is belligerent. “Nah, nah. We wouldn’t miss your birthday. We had it all planned out, today’s only-” Her words fail as she pulls out her phone to check, as if she didn’t believe the calendar you placed in front of her. “Shit.”

“Ikaka ngokwenene(Shit indeed). So tell me again, Shuri, how I didn’t mean the words I said before.”

She doesn’t speak, face full of an apology she can’t vocalize. 

Riri isn’t backing down, anger riling her up again. “Hold up, so you been sitting on this shit for three weeks and you wanna come in and hold it over our heads now?”

“Hold it over your heads? Riri, my love, vuma ukuba awulunganga (admit you’re wrong)! It was you, nina nobabini (both of you), who forgot you had another wife to care for, not I!”

“If you’re so forgotten, y/n, why don’t you just leave?”

Her words knock the wind out of you. “Utheni? (What did you say?)” 

Shuri’s words find her again. “Riri, stop-”

“Nah, baby. She’s the forgotten wife, right?” She’s speaking to Shuri, but her eyes are on you. “We haven’t shown her how much we care over these past few years. How much she meant to us. It wasn’t enough for her.”

Readdressing you, Riri asks venumously “It wasn’t enough, was it, y/n? Huh, baby? We weren’t enough for you. So why don’t you go? Disappear? Vanish?”

A panic is rising in Shuri and she pulls Riri’s tiny body back, but the anger and frustration flowing through the small girl’s being strengthen her. “Cwaka, Riri (Silence, Riri.) Let’s cool off usana (baby), you’re going to say something you’ll regret.”

Riri takes no heed to Shuri's words, tears pouring down both girl’s faces, as well as your own. “Go, y/n. Bounce, baby. Find that woman who gives you more than either of us could, and when you do, wish the bitch luck!”

“Riri!” Shuri hisses, but then her attention is on you. Her eyes follow you as your hand moves to pull off your kimoyo beads. She rushes to you, her hand atop yours. “No, no, sthandwa (my love). She didn’t mean it. Yeka, hlala nam (Stop, stay with me.)”

You take the bracelet off anyways and place it in Shuri’s hand. She looks down at it in horror and tries a different tactic, taking your cheek in her hand to wipe your tears. “Umfazi wam, ndiyaxolisa (My wife, I’m sorry). Ndiyacela, ndiyacela, sukuhamba. (Please, please, don’t go.),” whispers from her lips. 

When you reach to remove the wedding ring from your hand, Shuri drops to her knees, begging. Riri even stops her pacing to peer at you with wide eyes, the weight of her words finally hitting her. 

The ring clinks as it lands on the table, a loud sound in the quiet room. “Ndiyahamba (I’ll leave).”

You pull Shuri’s chin into your hands, bringing her teary eyes to meet yours. With a small, sad smile and a quick glance at Riri, whose taking wavering steps toward you, your mouth opens to speak to the two one last time before you retreat. “Nisale kakuhle zinkosi zenu (Goodbye, your majesties.)” You bow and exit, leaving the Queens in their despair. 

[demo-bats]

Yay I'm so happy you like my drawing! I do have a request if you don't mind writing it. I'd like a cute story about Eddie and a shy girl who works at an electronic shop. I imagine Eddie has to go to the shop sometime when he needs something for his electric guitar.

a/n: thanks for the request! i really enjoyed writing this. i tweaked it a little, hope you don’t mind! looking forward to any more art/requests :D

& ,, STALKER IN AISLE FIVE

eddie munson x gn!reader

warnings: mentions of sexual themes, eds calling himself a pervert lol, lots of awkward convo and fluff.

you notice a certain curly-haired nerd frequently visiting your workplace. finally, you decide to acknowledge his stalking. 1.9k

WORKING at Hawkins’ electronic store was not on your bucket list. Sure, you were fascinated by the up-and-coming technology that was slowly progressing as the years went on. But that didn’t stop your distaste for having to actually go in for your shifts.

Although the summer job had slowly spread into the rest of the year and your mind was ready to explode, you’d be lying if you said working there was all bad.

There was at least one thing you enjoyed. A certain curly-haired ‘freak’ who had a habit of stopping by multiple times a week.

You’d noticed him around three months ago. He had pranced in, mop of curls bouncing with every step he took. He was pretty to look at, although extremely eccentric, and you gathered that’s most likely the reason why your eyes had drifted to him in the first place.

But what held your gaze was how it was extremely obvious that he was coming there to see you.

You had only joined Hawkins High for your senior year, trying your best to avoid as many people as possible. You weren’t exactly the most friendly — Curse your awkwardness in social situations — But despite your quiet demeanour and sarcastic humour as a defence mechanism for your nerves, you had caught his eye years ago.

He’d thought he’d lost his chance to speak to you when you had graduated, but seeing you working here had felt like some sort of sign. He didn’t believe in God, but somebody had taken pity on him, and he would forever be doing penance for that.

The small, rusted bell above the door chimes as the hinges squeak, announcing a customer has arrived. You don’t bother looking up from your magazine, knowing already who’d be stupid enough to come in at 8:02am. 

You can feel a set of eyes on you as he wanders across the various aisles of cables and antennas, watching your chest press against the wooden counter. The only sound that fills the store is his heavy footsteps and the occasional turn of your page.

He feels like a pervert. The shame creeps up on him continuously when he finds himself staring, observing every small move you make. It’s the only thing that gratifies him, even though it’s just a reminder that he can’t find the courage to actually have a conversation longer than three sentences.

You sigh upon hearing him halt, never tearing your eyes away from the bold images in front of you. If he isn’t going to make a move, then maybe you can find some confidence from somewhere. “Can I help you, Eddie?”

Crash.

“Uh…” he lets out slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He takes a quick peek at the mess of display tapes he’s knocked over, cursing internally at his body’s reaction to hearing you speak his name. “Clean up on aisle five?”

You try not to smile, tilting your head down further to hide your amusement. “Better put those hands to good use then.”

Eddie tries to ignore the sexual meaning he takes away from your words, burning red as he drops to his knees dramatically to quickly to stack the shelf again. He tries to organise them, but the current state of his bedroom proves that he’s already no good at that. You can hear him curse from your position behind the desk, despite him uttering it under his breath.

“Just leave it,” you announce quickly, worried you’d put far too much pressure on him. You’d only meant it as a joke, not expecting the boy to actually fold in half and bend to your commands. It’s a little too much power to hold, something you’d never experienced before. “I get paid to do that, so…”

“Right,” he lets out, trying to smoothly saunter up to the counter. He ends up whacking his knee into another cabinet on the way there, earning an actual physical laugh from you this time. He feels proud, despite knowing deep down that you’re really just laughing at his pain. If a fool is his part to play, then he’ll play it with an award-winning performance. “Anyways, uh, I’m here to…” He scans the shop, desperately looking for an excuse. “Guitar strings. Want ‘em. Need ‘em, actually. Pesky thing...”

He trails off with an awkward laugh, watching your eyebrows raise in amusement. You let him ramble on about the importance of his music and how sacred it is, unable to find your voice after initially greeting him. It’s something you’ve always struggled with. The sole reason you had graduated with decent grades but not a single person to celebrate that achievement with. You wanted interaction, but with the students of Hawkins High already making assumptions about your quietness, it was hard to do so.

Eddie notices your silence after a minute or two, cheeks reddening from his mouth’s persistence. He tilts his head, a grin widening on his face when you match his smile. “Yeah… and you definitely don’t get paid enough to deal with idiots like me.”

“You’re not an idiot,” you state almost immediately, words coming out a little raspy. You weren’t even sure what you wanted to say in response to so much attention from one person, but luckily your brain makes that decision for you for once. “Kind of chatty, but that's okay.”

“Usually my voice can lull a thousand people. I’m like a siren, truly.” He gets another laugh from you, one that’s snorted and entirely unattractive. To him? It’s the most beautifully raw sound he’s ever heard. He decides then and there that he’s already in love with it. “Guitar strings? Yes?”

You falter, suddenly coming back down to reality from the cloud he’d ascended you to. Of course, the essential thing he’d ‘come in’ for. Even though you know it’s just a rouse, you can’t help but feel bad when you break the news to him.

“You… know this is an electronics store, right? We don’t sell anything, like, remotely close to guitars.” You watch his smile evidently drop, although he manages to somehow keep the corners of his lips upturned. There’s a flash of rejection that passes over his eyes, a look that has your heart squeezed impossibly tight. Eddie is the only person who’s remotely considered approaching you, other than the band of jocks that occasionally took a dig at your shy nature. In light, he was the only person who’d been kind. You didn’t want to let that go. 

You can see the tops of his thighs twitch, the only part of his legs visible from where you’re standing. It’s enough to alert you that he’s going to leave, and although this is your first time conversing something other than ‘Enjoy your purchase’ or ‘Have a nice day’, you found yourself oddly connected to him.

So much so, that you offer the only thing that comes to your mind.

“W-We do sell amps though!”

Eddie Munson finds himself the new owner of a glossed amplifier a few moments later, covering the empty hole in his wallet where his cash should be with a forced smile. He’ll have to explain the lack of groceries to his uncle later. Something a lot better than wanting to impress a person he finds attractive.

“Aaaand here’s your receipt. You can return it within ten days if there’s any issues. Company policy, and all that fine print stuff…” You don’t finish the rest of your trained response, deciding he’s probably bought enough things in here over the last few months to know what you’re going to say. He simply nods, patting the large speaker awkwardly on the desk.

“Forgot how big these things are,” he begins, smoothing his palm over the dials and buttons as you draw your bottom lip between your teeth to suppress another laugh. He lets out a low whistle, and you ignore how your neck begins to flush with heat at the sound. “Like, wayyyy too big. Huge. Enormous, even-”

“You already have an amp, don’t you?” You finally put him out of his misery, watching his nose scrunch in embarrassment before he pats the speaker again, this time a little more forcefully.

“...Yeah.”

You open the till. “Okay, give it back. I’ll refund you-”

“W-What? No- No no no, I can take it. I don’t wanna get you in trouble, or anything- I’m a bad influence but not this bad.” He rushes out, hands waving in front of his face in frantic motions. You reach forward bravely, taking a hold of them to still his movements.

His breath hitches.

You strain your neck to look behind him, gazing over the empty parking spots out front on the street. They’ve been barren since last night. “I don’t see your van outside. There’s no way I’m going to actually let you carry that.” You chuckle along with your words, watching Eddie blink rapidly at you.

“You know my van?” He asks out of disbelief, but there’s a hint of a teasing tone to his words. He doesn’t mean to. However, there’s a natural charm and cockiness to him that never seems to cease. You kind of like it.

The sound of the register opening distracts him from his shocked stare, coins jingling within the metal. You count out the bills he’d handed over, sliding them across the counter with another timid grin.

“Being off the radar means I do a lot of observing,” Eddie gingerly reaches up to swipe the money, short-circuiting when his fingers envelop yours, unmoved from where you had originally laid them down. “Like what car you drive, and the new patch on your jacket, and the fact that you’ve been in here five times this week already.”

This time, Eddie blushes. A full-on rosy tint that spreads across his cheeks like the first brush stroke to an empty canvas. It paints him beautifully, mentally applauding yourself for finding comfortability in talking to him. It’s a personal success you can celebrate later.

“I… didn’t realise you could see me.” He admits honestly, rubbing at the back of his neck as he takes a quick glance around the store. His body physically turns to spy his multitude of hiding spaces, ones that he’s thought were somewhat decent. He hides his dismay well.

“You’re kind of hard not to look at,” Eddie nearly contracts whiplash at your response, eyes wide and mouth agape at your somewhat confession. Him? Lanky, scrawny, non-showered, freaky nerd Eddie Munson? You giggle at his obvious starstruck expression, deciding to take another leap of faith. You lean forward over the counter with the cash in hand, fingertips tracing the waist of his jeans as you stuff the bills into his front pocket. “See you same time tomorrow for those guitar strings?”

Eddie nods, body numb and on auto-pilot as he backs out of the store. His parted lips soon pull together to produce a grin when he reaches the door, green notes protruding from his pocket like some sort of ‘mark’ you’d left on him. He tries not to let his mind wander too far at that idea, for his own sanity.

“It’s a date.” He mutters eagerly, despite knowing that a ten minute conversation at your workplace is the worst romantic idea he’s ever come up with.

Still, you eat up every ounce of his dorky charm with a wide grin and a flutter in your stomach. “Yeah... It's a date, stalker in aisle five.”

[honey-dew-woo]

Insubordination | Jake Seresin x Reader

Heyo! Once again, I am filled with allusions to characters from the original Top Gun. I hope you enjoy this series, because after this I definitely have too many series going on. LOL. I hope you all enjoy, and if anyone feels like I'm writing Hangman out of character, please let me know!!! Like if he's more cocky, please tell me. I love CONSTRUCTIVE criticism. Now, ENJOY!

Masterlist | Chapter Two

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"Oh. Oh shit." We the only words I managed to let out. A groan accompanied by a head splitting headache revived my hazy memories of last night. The Hard Deck, meeting the now-naked blond man who laid in the bed next to me, being pinned down by his arms in the moonlight that seeped through my blinds- and so much more.

"Fuck." I whispered, the hangover setting in, grasping my head, as I managed to slide out of bed. I checked the time, realizing I had about an hour before I was needed on base. I had been re-called to Top Gun for a mission, as an instructor. I was to be assisting Captain Pete 'Maverick' Mitchell, who had taught me when he was an instructor. The debriefing was yesterday, as were my bad decisions.

Well, not too bad apparently. I grabbed the blanket that was previously wrapping me, and well was wrapping him. I threw a pillow to cover his butt, and wrapped the blanket around myself. "Well good morning to you too." I heard his voice groan out, as I turned around to face him.

"I'm going to take a shower. And when I come out you're not going to be here," I glanced down to see his brown uniform shirt on my floor, scanning it for a rank before continuing my sentence, "Lieutenant-" I trailed off. Oh shit. I don't know his name.

He looked at me, his face morphing into disbelief and offense. "Seresin. Jake." He spoke, as I smiled.

"Right. Y/N." I spoke, smiling as I held out my hand for him to shake. He took it, looking at me in a smiley-weird way.

"Y/N?" He questioned, intrigued as he quirked an eyebrow. As if questioning for a last name.

I sighed, picking his uniform off the floor, tossing it to him. "We don't have to do the thing." I spoke, as he began to put his shirt on.

"The thing?" God, how was he so hot simply buttoning up a shirt?

"Y'know, the whole exchanging names and contacts thing. I had fun last night, you had fun last night. It doesn't have to go farther than that." I smile, going to my bathroom door, and opening.

"What? I'm in town for awhile, Y/N. You don't want to do it again sometime?" he suggested, now fully clothed.

I smiled at him from behind the door, the blanket previously covering my body now abandoned on the floor. "No, Jake. I'm good. Goodbye." I winked, closing the door behind me and getting ready for the day.

It was after that scalding hot water, and a very brief motorcycle drive that I arrived at base. Making my way over to the Hanger, it would appear as though I managed to be perfectly on time. I took my place between Hondo and Admiral Simspon, with Admiral Bates addressing everyone to introduce Maverick.

"You're punctual." Bates acknowledged, moving his head to glance at me.

While the rose-gold Ray Ban aviators hid my gaze, nothing could hide the grin that grew on my face. "Late night." I murmured, watching the class before me. My eyes widened, and I could never be more thankful for the sun glasses I purchased long ago.

There, in the very fucking front row sat lieutenant Jake Seresin. Oh I'm so screwed. I was snapped out of my thoughts as I heard Maverick's voice. "Now, I can't teach you enough dogfighting alone. So you're other instructor will be the only other person in the Navy to also have three confirmed aerial kills. A second generation dogfighter. Commander Y/N 'Cobra' Metcalf." He spoke, his arm extended outward towards me. 

I smirked, walking up to the podium with head held high. I placed my aviators on my face, before looking at the crowd of lieutenants before me. My eyes lingered on Jake for a moment, his face of shock and 'I'm so screwed' would have been mirrored on my own, if not for the fake confidence I held. "Let's get this straight. I might be younger or as young as many of you, but don't get it twisted. I have more dogfighting experience than perhaps everyone in this hangar, except your other instructor. I am your instructor. I know what I'm talking about. If you don't take me seriously just because I'm younger, I will pull you from this mission myself. Now. Let's get this dogfighting show on the road." I monologued, nodding off to Maverick who took over to explain the drills we were to go over.

I walked back to Hondo, the two admirals to oversee this mission long gone, and I placed my aviators back on my face. My gaze lingered on Jake, as I watched blond listen to Maverick intently. He tried to hide the fact that he kept glancing over at me. Captain Mitchell then decided it was best to separate everyone up, determining who was going first on the dogfighting practice.

The black haired male interrupted the line of sight I had on the blond lieutenant, as I shifted my gaze to the Captain. "Well Pete, it's good to see you again." I smirked as he nodded at me.

"Likewise, Cobra. Viper would've been proud of you," he smiled, patting me on my shoulder as I could only offer a somber, nostalgic smile on my face at the mention of my grandfather's name. I nodded, as he continued, "I want you in the break room with the Lieutenants. Point out any flaws you notice in their dogfighting when they go against me." He smiled.

"Alright. And thank you, Mav. He would've been proud of you too." I responded, patting the pilot on the shoulder before following the Lieutenants to the break room. Everyone passed by, but Hangman decided to hang back and hold the door open. "Thank you." I acknowledged, not letting my gaze drift to him as I took my sunglasses and pinned them to my shirt.

"Metcalf." He spoke, the door closing behind him as he stepped inside. I froze, turning back to look at Jake. 

"Sorry?" I mused, quirking my eyebrow as he met my eyes.

"Your last name." He winked, alluding to this morning before walking into the break room. I huffed, and couldn't help smiling to myself, shaking my head as I followed him.

[ptergwen]

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

-

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

[daisies-and-buttercups]

“Love and War / Chapter II″ - Luca Changretta x reader

Summary: Waking up to an empty bed and the words that Luca left for you, you soon realise that everything is going to go down today, and you’ll soon have to pick a side. 

A/N: I swear that this post took me at least three tries, tumblr kept deleting and/or messing up the formatting so I’m really hoping that this is worth it lol 💕

Words: 2.7k

Chapter I Chapter III

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The next morning you shifted in bed, stretching your arms in search of your lover’s body, but all you felt was the crumpling sheets, still warm from where his body was not too long ago. You groaned, sitting up and scanning the room, eyebrows scrunched into a tired look. If you had to guess what had happened the night before just by looking at your room you wouldn’t have had any clues. Your clothes were neatly folded by the chair and there was no other evidence that anything had indeed happened. No clothes abandoned on the floor, no man lying next to you. 

You walked down the stairs almost second guessing yourself, thinking over the night's events while you prepared a cup of coffee that you so desperately craved. Taking a big sip your eyes landed on the small table by the door, only usually adorned by a small plate for your keys and some letters that you hadn’t gotten around to opening yet, now decorated by a beautiful bouquet. You never had flowers around, the item useless and expensive, not something that you could afford with your paycheque, but just with their presence they lit the room up, their delicate perfume filling your lungs. You smiled and walked up to them, lifting the small card up to read it. A simple phrase full of adoration and love, with a few words in Italian, made you blush at the love you felt, but the final sentence made your heart drop. 

If today is kind with my soul, I shall meet you in your dreams tonight, mio amore.

His handwriting was smooth and elegant with each word, but the last sentence was slightly messy, revealing his feelings maybe more than he was used to. His fear. He didn’t think he’d make it back.

So today was the day. 

You scurried over to the phone, picking it up and calling the Shelbys, hoping that someone, anyone, would answer, but no one did. There was no point in leaving the house, you wouldn’t know where to find them and you had no way of knowing where Luca was either. There were many places where this showdown could happen, and even if you found it, what were you going to do? You couldn’t just waltz in hoping not to get shot. Still, the mix of emotions in your chest made you dizzy. Why didn’t he say anything? You dreaded the images that flashed before your eyes, first that of Tommy’s lifeless body, still clutching his gun, then that of Luca, tumbling as a bullet hit him square in the chest.  Tears fell as you pictured those scenarios, but knew that that was all they were. They weren’t real. But even knowing that, you couldn’t stop pacing around the room, counting the minutes and going over the events of the past few weeks.  You didn’t know how to feel about this whole ordeal. You never forgot how Tommy and his family welcomed you when you had been left with nothing, giving you a job, food, inviting you over for drinks and celebrations, but as much as you dreamed of it, you’d never be part of them. You fit in, but not fully. You weren’t part of their circle, but you were part of their “clean” life. Tommy made sure to to leave you out of the dirty deeds, even if you gathered what happened behind closed doors, and by doing so he shut you out of the only part of their life that would make you fully fit in with them. Then Luca arrived, and the calls, on the phone that Thomas brought just for you, since you couldn’t afford one in any other way, started becoming less frequent, with less news. No more talking about the business, no more working by their side, no more gossiping with Ada or Polly on Saturday evenings. You still got your salary, somehow left by your door with nothing else attached to it, not even a note, but that didn’t change the stark difference in your routine. You barely felt like family, or whatever you had ended up being, anymore. You felt even more left out now. So when Luca came around and actually listened to you, and talked to you, and shared his interests while asking about yours, you felt appreciated, loved. You had found somewhere where you fitted.  And now here you stood, weary of whose death you’d have to cry at the end of the day.

It took hours for the phone to ring with news, which made you jump into alertness, rushing over to answer. “Where is he?” You stayed quiet for a moment, fully expecting to hear Polly’s or Ada’s voice, not Tommy’s. He was alive, and clearly Polly had told him about your meeting with the Italian. “Where is-” “Where is he?” he raised his voice in unison to the loud sound you heard not far from him, probably his fist banging against the table.  So they still were both alive. You let a breath out that you were unaware you had been holding, gripping your clothes tightly, adrenaline running in your veins from the news.  He didn’t usually raise his voice, so his anger was evident, yet you weren’t sure if it was directed at you or at Luca. He clearly had gotten away, and the thought of that was enough to lift that weight off your chest. “I don’t know, Thomas.”  “You knew last night, though, didn’t you? When he was in your bed? Bet it felt good, eh, fucking the enemy?” You didn’t answer, your face blushing in shame and anger. He had no right to spy into your personal life. You knew that in his books you were on the wrong side of the war they were fighting, but his words were harsh, cutting through you without any of the warmth they once held. “Don’t defend a fucking wop. Tell me.” “I don’t know where he is. But this has to end, Thomas, this war you’re-” “Why don’t you tell that to your friend?” He pronounced the last word with sarcasm and hatred, but what hurt him was the betrayal he felt when you made it clear that you cared about him.  “I already did. I told him I support neither of your ways. Just stop, someone’s gonna get hurt.“ “And it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfire.” he spat out, the silence ringing in your ears as if his threat were a slap. “Goodnight, Thomas.” You replied, slamming the phone down, not even sure if he was still there to hear you but not willing to argue anymore. You didn’t stop walking around the halls, hoping that someone else would tell you more about what actually went down, still in the dark, but no one did. 

That night you laid in bed, thinking over everything that had happened, or at least what you knew. The fairytale routine you had fallen in with Luca, the fancy restaurants, chivalrous words and tender kisses were taken away from you so soon after they started, leaving you desperate for what you had started growing so used to. Had it not been for the vendetta, he’d probably be here next to you right now, drawing circles on your shoulders with his fingertips, kissing you softly. But he wasn’t here, and all you knew was that he must’ve been alive somehow, since Tommy had no idea as to where he could’ve been.  Standing up you took a few steps towards the small balcony, desperate for some fresh air. There was barely enough space to stand on it so you leaned on the window frame, spotting someone moving away just as you glanced down towards the back street. Had you been in a less emotional state you’d have never chased after them, but right now all you wanted were answers.  You turned the corner, losing your balance as you slammed into someone, but their hands held you up, pulling you against them.  “You shouldn’t have come out here, principessa. You never know who might linger in the dark.” With your mouth agape you stood still for a moment, realising who was standing in front of you and finally wrapping your arms around him, colliding with his chest once more. He let out a low chuckle, melting into your embrace and holding you, feeling your heartbeat calm him down, a natural remedy that only you could provide. Your tears fell freely, wetting his coat while you shivered against him. “Well, lucky me then.” you joked, breathing in his scent, the notes of sandalwood surrounding you. “What happened?”  “Nothing. The police got in the way.” he shrugged lightly, his hands still around your waist, pulling you against him. “Thomas was looking for you. He called me.” he nodded, looking around the street for any signs of someone spying on them, but no one was around at this time, but he didn’t care either way. “I’m leaving for Camden Town. I won’t be back for a few days, so you won’t see me for a bit.” “And what are you going to do in Camden Town?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. He wouldn’t stop, and there was only one man in London that had a strong connection to Tommy, and not always a good one. You had never met Alfie Solomons, but you knew enough about him to know where this was going. “Not important. I came to get a goodbye kiss.” his eyes crinkled as he smiled, lifting your chin with his fingers and finding his mouth, kissing you with an initial softness, growing into a hunger that he couldn’t afford right now. He groaned, breaking the kiss, resting his forehead to yours. “What are you planning, Luca?”  “Goodnight, dear.”  “It’s not gonna end well.” “Goodnight, dear.” He repeated, kissing your forehead and lingering for a moment more, before urging you to walk back home, waiting until you were out of sight to slip away, walking towards the car that would take him to London. 

You spent days waiting for something, but there was nothing. No calls, no letters, no news.  You picked a few books off your bookshelf, books you had never had the time to read, and scanned the pages, not managing to focus on more than a few pages. It was that dark feeling in your chest that you couldn’t ignore, and the lack of news only made it worse, feeding your mind with the most horrible scenarios.  It felt like a blessing, if only for a short moment, when a call arrived shortly after dinner. You were resting your head on the sofa, singing along to some old songs while you stared at your hands, the concept of time slowly slipping away, when you received the news, making you sit up in disbelief. Polly had been brief, delivering the news and nothing more, leaving you clutching your telephone and staring into thin air for what felt like hours. She hadn’t said anything more, leaving you with the feelings that surrounded you. Sadness, rage, hopelessness… everything was bubbling in your chest, a feeling of guilt coating everything, making you feel like you were somehow at fault here, like you hadn’t prevented this.  You paced around for most of the night, only pausing your wondering when the realisation hit you again, big tears slipping past your eyes as you recalled the memories of the times shared, stopping your incessant actions at the faint knock at the door early in the morning. “I saw your light on.” he looked behind you, his lips twitching up for a short moment, only to fall back into a stoic look when he met your gaze, clearly seeing the tears that you tried to wipe away before opening the door, your eyes red with sadness and rage. “Tell me you didn’t.”  It was a whisper, one that made his heart break. It wasn’t just your expression, nor the redness under your eyes, but your moving away from the door, as if you feared him.  “Alfie Solomons-” he started, willing to offer an explanation for his deeds. “I don’t care about Alfie! I asked you to stop this after the vendetta happened!” you shouted, getting closer just to throw punches at his chest, yet no matter your anger you were nothing but gentle, barely making him flinch.  “He didn’t stop either.”  “Because he’s stubborn. He’s-” “I am too. He killed my men. Just ‘cause you were closer to Arthur doesn’t mean that the death of my men means nothing.” “I don’t want to be part of this anymore.” you announced, slipping from his grasp and moving away, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could. “You never were a part of this.”  “Maybe not, but with how things are going I’m going to end up as collateral damage.” “You know I’d never let anything happen to you. Even if you stood by him, I wouldn’t-” You turned and walked up the stairs, ignoring his words and grabbing your traveling bag from the wardrobe as he made his way up, scoffing but following you into the bedroom nonetherless.  You picked your clothes and folded them quickly, placing them in the bag and throwing a couple other belongings in.  “What are you doing?” He asked, sitting on your bed and stopping your movements by holding your hips, his touch delicate, in harsh contrast with his look. He always felt so… different around you. Delicate, careful, loving. Little things, like the way he remembered what wine you liked, or some of your little quirks, or the softness of his touches when he was near you. After the night where you both fell into your bed, he’d become more open with showing his affection, but before that he never really shied away from it either. His hand gently cradling the small of your back when guiding you into a restaurant, or the brush of his fingers against your cheek when a stray hair got away from behind your ear. “I’m ending it tomorrow.” He announced, avoiding your gaze. “What?” You turned to face him, not fully understanding his plan of attack. “I called a meeting with Thomas.”  “To apologise?” “To make a deal.” He corrected you. “But it might not work. So…” He took one of his rings off, holding your hand and placing it in your palm, closing it around it. “To remember me by. Or not. Maybe it’s better to forget me, after all.” He brought your hand to your lips, as if to seal a deal, smiling. “I won’t have to remember you. You’re not going.” Your hand on his arm was supposed to stop him, or slow him down at least, but he just smiled at you as you would with a child that doesn’t fully understand the state the world is in.  “I have to finish what I started.” “Luca, don’t.” you tried to give it back, but he shook his head, moving away from you and down the stairs. “Arthur didn’t deserve it.”  “He’s the one that pulled the trigger.”  You didn’t speak, not knowing what to add. You knew he was referring to the death of his father, but what Arthur had done was almost out of mercy. Tommy wouldn’t have stopped, so he intervened. There were many mistakes he had made in his life, but dying because of an act of mercy wasn’t what he deserved.  “Ti amo, bedda mia.” And with a final look he left, not waiting for an answer, exhaling when the door closed behind him. He saw the way you looked at him, the tears that escaped your eyes, feeling betrayed by his actions, but he did what he had to do.  “Luca, we’re not finished talking.” Your words had no effect on the man, just like you knew they wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking them. It wasn’t only grief that was holding you back now, but fear. For a moment you saw the man just as he had been painted since the beginning: a gangster, a killer, nothing more but a heartless man. You fell back against the wall, clinging on to the ring he had gifted you, the only thing that felt certain right now. You watched as he stepped out, closing the door behind him ever so gently, to avoid making noise, and wondered what hid behind those eyes. How much could you risk for him?

He could feel you looking at him as he made his way out, knowing just how disappointed you were, but he wouldn’t back down. He knew what was going to go down tomorrow, what he’d say, how he'd move, and he’d do anything to have you by his side. 

After all, all is fair in love and war. 

[suicidalslasher]

𝑛𝑖𝑔𝘩𝑡 𝑐𝘩𝑎𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑠 ➤  𝑏𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑦 𝑙. & 𝑠𝑡𝑢 𝑚.

In which the reader comes home, completely broken-hearted and her two friends, Stu Macher and Billy Loomis, come in to put a smile on her face and show her how much they love her.

WARNINGS:  This is a smut but not well written, lol. It’s mainly just oral, both receiving and giving. (male and female.)  Also, if you squeeze your eyes really tight, you may get a glimpse of slight foreshadowing in which Billy and Stu killed the guy that broke the reader’s heart but blink and you might miss it. Anyways. Enjoy.  

(Y/N) lied upon a soft feather mattress, cocooning herself in the silk sheets. A sad sigh surpassing her lips as the realization settles in, hitting her like a ton of bricks, like a cold bucket of water was thrown on her. She's alone. The room feels empty. Wait, no, scratch that. 

It is empty.  It's dark and cold and lonesome. As many blankets that surround her and although she has many draped around her body, her skin still somehow prickles with goosebumps and she's shivering.  

Though, she knows it's not because she's cold. She isn't shaking because of that. Not really. Before she could stop herself, her eyes start to glisten with tears, the corner of her eyes pooling with water and slowly but surely, they slide down her skin, wetting her cheeks. Goddammit. God fucking dammit, she thinks, reaching over and grabbing the duvet comforter,  she slides it over her head. Broken, silent sobs then proceed to escape past her lips, although she oh so desperately tries to hold them back. She fails miserably.  Then, out of nowhere, she hears a little knock, followed by another.   Rolling over to lay on her stomach, (Y/N) buries her face into the nearest pillow, causing mascara tears to soak and stain the cushion as she continues to cry and sob. Before she realizes it or even can acknowledge it, the window to her bedroom is being pulled up and her friends, Billy Loomis and Stu Macher, step inside her bedroom.   "(Y/N)?" (Y/N) is quick to flip around upon hearing her name, her heart hammering wildly against her chest. 

 "S-Stu? Billy? What the Hell are you guys doing here?"  She relaxes, having  seen her friends standing by her bedroom window rather than the man everybody was fearing lately in Woodsboro.  

A masked man with a dark cloak and a spine-chilling voice. She was lucky she hadn't heard what he sounded like, she had enough nightmares as is. It was hard to say whether or not it was a man behind the mask but regardless, whatever sex the person was, they were crazy, inside and out. End of story. (Y/N) makes a mental note, reminding herself to lock her window next time and to keep track of that before she gets comfortable and goes to bed. Especially with what was happening everywhere in Woodsboro. "We wanted to make sure you were okay."  Billy said, walking over to the girl as he sat down next to her,  the mattress sinking beneath his weight. Stu followed, nodding happily as he shows a few VHS tapes, gesturing them over to (Y/N).

 "We brought movies to watch and snacks, too!" He exclaimed as he then pulled out a small plastic bag, dumping out the items onto her bed. 

There was chips and candy and they were all her favorite flavors and brands, too. (Y/N) felt the tears pooling in the corner of her eyes again at the sweet gesture her friends were sharing with her. "Oh... c'mon, don't be such  a cry baby." Stu snickered but he wrapped his arms around (Y/N) and pulled her into a side hug, Billy following right behind, hugging her from her right. 

 "We love you, we've got your back, always, okay?" "What Stu said. Besides, this world doesn’t deserve an angel like you, (Y/N).” "Mhm." Stu nodded.   "I really liked him, that's all..... I should've known it was a set up to get back with his ex." (Y/N) said with a sniffle, running a hand over her face as she tries to rid herself of any left over makeup, especially getting rid of the mascara, although, if she were positive, that and her eyeliner were most likely now resting on the pillow she had cried into rather than on her face. "Well, he's a fucking idiot." Billy growled.   "He doesn't see how perfect you are, (Y/N)." "Billy and I see that, though." Stu said, taking his hand off from her shoulder as he now rests his hand on her thigh, giving her a reassuring squeeze. It made (Y/N)'s breath hitch in her throat and she bites on her lower lip, nervously. 

What were they doing....? She thinks. “We would do anything for you. Absolutely anything.”  Billy said. "We'd do anything just to see you happy, just to see you smile..." Stu continued. "You deserve nothing but the best, deserve nothing but happiness." "So, please... (Y/N)... let us give you that. Let us show you how beautiful and loved you really are. We love you.... we love you so much-" "We love you so much we'd kill for you." Billy looks over at Stu, giving him a questioning glare and (Y/N) goes to ask what that stare meant but her words are loss and any train of thought she had left the building once she feels both hands of Billy and Stu's on her thighs.

 One on her left, the other on her right. "So.... no movies then?" (Y/N) asked jokingly. Her heart, like earlier, was pounding so loud she swore both boys could hear it against her chest. Her body was trembling as it had done earlier but now, it wasn't from sadness or feeling broken but rather hot and bothered. 

She did always have an attraction to Billy and Stu, she'd be a liar to say she didn't. "We can watch them later. Right now, we want to see those legs of yours sprawled out, give us a view of that pretty pussy." (Y/N) whined softly but she obeyed, and while she did, Billy grunted while Stu spoke softly, "Such a good girl for us. You're our good girl, aren't you, sweetheart?" (Y/N) nodded as she stretched her legs on either side of her. All she was wearing was a thin gown, one that matched her sheets, being the fact both were silk.  

 "Oh.... so pretty, so beautiful." Stu purred, licking his lips, his eyes growing darker while Billy's did the same. "Naughty though.... aren't you, baby? Not wearing any panties." Billy chuckled as he stood up, feet landing on the carpeted floor with a soft thud as he walks over to (Y/N), undoing his jeans and the belt that had been neatly placed in the hoops of the pants.  

"Is it okay if you suck me off, darling? You want to be a good girl, don't you?" (Y/N) says nothing, she's unable to speak. It was as if a cat had captured her tongue and ran off with it, and she couldn't get it back from the creature. She feels paralyzed, too. Everything feels as if it's going by too fast.

 What an odd day.... she thinks. She didn't expect this to happen, not now, not ever. But she wasn't angry at it or the outcome of tonight's misfortune. It was just crazy how fast the night changes. "Baby? I asked you a question... If you know what’s good for you, you better answer me.”   "Y-yes." (Y/N) stammered, feeling heat rise to her cheeks.  "I'd love to suck you off, please, may I?" "Oh!" Stu chirped, giggling as he shook his head from side to side, a wicked grin playing out across his lips. "She's got manners, fuck - we really found the perfect girl, haven't we, Billy?" "Mhm." Billy said, pressing his cock to her lips. "Open up, sweetie. Let's see how pretty you look with a mouth full of cock." While (Y/N) parts her lips open, and as Billy pushes himself in her wet and warm mouth, (Y/N) feels heat against her clit and before she can put two and two together, Stu's devouring her pussy with his tongue and she squeaks, bucking her hips up into his touch.   "Fuck! She tastes incredible. Can't believe I haven't gotten to you sooner." Stu said before pressing his face back in between her thighs, licking and lapping her cunt with his tongue, making her tremble and shake. 

(Also makes her almost choke and gag on Billy's cock as he presses his cock further down her throat.) Above, Billy nodded as he rocked his hips back and forth, eyes half-lidded, not quite shut but not all the way open either, as he grunts out an answer; "She's good with her mouth too, Stu." He said.  

"Not sure I can last long, sweetheart..." He warned and right as the words slip from his lips,  it didn't take less than a second until (Y/N)'s mouth is being filled with Billy's creamy, white load.

 "Oh.... fuck!"  He grunts, pulling back  as he drops down next to her on the bed.

 "Go on, baby. Cum for Stu. You wanna be good for him too, don't you? Go on and cum.... cum all over his tongue, beautiful. I'm sure he'll love the taste of your juices, exploding into his mouth." And fuckfuckfuck.....

FUCK~!!

"O-Oh!"  (Y/N) mewls, bucking her hips into his mouth once more as the sweet release of her orgasm floods out of her and into Stu's mouth. Happily, Stu licks every drop up, pulling back with a very much pleased and satisficed smile.  

 "Both her and her pussy are so sweet." Stu complimented, now crawling up onto the bed and resting beside her, tucking his face into her neck as he presses a few  ghostly kisses on her skin. "Love you."

"I love you, too."

"And what about me?" Billy said with a playful pout.

"I love you too, Billy Loomis." (Y/N) admitted, grinning as she scooted a few inches over, patting the empty spot next to her. "Sleep with us?"  

Billy smiled in reply as he plopped down next to his now lovers, curling up in (Y/N)'s side and kissing the other side of her neck, the way Stu had done previously.  

 "I'll treat you to a good time too,  tomorrow," (Y/N whispered, mainly to Stu but she turned and repeated the sentence to Billy as well. The boys look at each other with a smirk, giving one a knowingly glance before they turned back to (Y/N). 

"Sounds like a plan, baby." The smile she wore across her lips falls into a frown and the boys are quick to sit up, having seen the smile turn upside down. "Baby, are you okay?" "Yeah." "Babe....don't you lie to us." "I'm not." She answers truthfully. "But.... this- I mean, us three, it's real, right?" She gestures in the air with a wave of her hand.  "You won't play with my feelings and hurt me-" "Baby." Billy's voice is rough and cold,  and his grip on her is far from affectionate and soft. "We'd kill for you, remember?" "We love you so much, (Y/N) you have no idea to what limits we'd go to prove that to you.” She didn't understand why the two kept repeating that very first sentence but she didn't question it, didn't think anything of it. She smiled and nodded, rubbing at her eyes now tiredly.

 "I love you both, too. Now... before I get too tired, can we watch those movies you rented?" Billy laughed softly as Stu scrambled up and on his feet, grabbing the candy and the films that had fallen on the bed off of the floor and goes to set the VHS player up, clicking the TV on with a push of a button. 

"You're gonna love these, (Y/N)! It's a new horror movie that came out!" "As long as it's not a slasher with a mask like the one that's hanging around in Woodsboro, I'm fine with anything. Whenever that monster goes away, I'll be fine and more than happy to watch slasher films again... just not now." She says with a laugh. "Don't worry, baby. With us around, you’ll be safe and sound. We’ll protect you.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

[fbfh]

I think you've horribly misread the situation [shitty roommate pt 2] - leo x reader

wc: 2.3k

genre: contemporary drama, you're definitly going to get second hand embarrassment, cozy fluff

pairing: leo x reader, attempted isabella x leo

reader: gender neutral, they/them

requested: hell yeah

warnings: mild swearing, roommate tries to steal your man once again, mentions of various mainstream vampire media (twilight, the vampire diaries etc.), brief mention of castlevania (even though i haven't seen it yet lol), breif mention of videogames and assassins creed, very mild delusion (roommate is secretly convinced leo is a vampire that's in love with her), attempted age gap relationship (she's 17 and leo's 19, he shuts that down real fast), very bad poetry

summary: You and Leo are both looking foward to spending a long weekend together, and Leo is determined not to let anything interrupt it, even if it means turning down your roommate's attempts to seduce him in the kitchen.

a/n: absolutley no hate or shade or judgement to anyone who has the same or similar traits as isabella!!!!!! at her core she's annoying because she's the antagonist, not bc of any isolated trait or traits

also she's shitty cause she keeps trying to steal your boyfriend?????

Edit: I forgot to mention before, but this is a college au where you're both still demigods, so you went to camp and on quests and stuff together

This weekend is going to be all about recharging. Recharging from the ridiculous back to back closing and opening shifts at work, recharging from having to redo that stupid project twice because your professor couldn’t decide on a clear way to define the criteria, and recharging from Isabella having her townie friend Regan over almost non stop to “completely shake up her look” as she put it.

Between the constant presence of someone you’d barely consider an acquaintance and Big Time Rush’s self titled album blasting on repeat out of her giant airpod shaped speaker, it’s been harder than usual to get in some effective self care. You have no idea how many more times you can hear the phrase “I’m going for Jade West meets Elena Gilbert, with just a little Buffy Summers” before you lose your fucking mind.

Thankfully, the hard part is almost over. There’s some minor holiday tomorrow on friday, so you and Leo both have a three day weekend ahead of you, which you intend to spend entirely together. You planned ahead, frontloading homework, chores, errands, and everything you could think of to remove anything that isn’t cuddling or playing video games and watching netflix together from your horizon.

This includes going straight from work to the grocery store to stock the fridge and get any snacks you and Leo want. You had texted him a while ago asking for anything he was craving, and head into the store with a concrete list. After a while, you circle around some aisles, avoiding the check out.

“I feel like I’m forgetting something,” you muse, knowing it’s untrue, but hoping to trigger a memory anyway. You can’t put it off any longer, finally checking out and heading back to your apartment. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t avoiding Isabella just a little.

You know bringing in all these groceries would be way easier with Isabella and possibly Regan’s help, but you just don’t have the social energy to talk to anyone, much less her, right now. By some miracle, you bring everything in yourself, and hope to get it put away before you see Isabella.

You turn to the freezer, putting away the ice cream. When you turn back around, you’re suddenly met face to face with Isabella, who has opened one of the boxes and is picking at a pastry.

“Hey girlie,” she says, elongating the hey.

“Hey,” you reply lethargically, putting the last of the groceries away. She looks at the pastry in her hand like she’s just noticing it.

“Sorry, I can’t help it, I’m italian.” She smiles, endeared by her own behavior. You have no idea what being italian has to do with asking before you open a box of your roommate’s food, but this really isn’t out of character for her. She brings up the fact that she’s half italian more than Lele Pons blames her behavior on being latina.

She’s wearing sweatpants that say chaser on the leg in red and gold varsity font, and a tight tee shirt that says “it’s okay to love them both” with silhouettes of the male love interests from one of the vampire shows she always watches. You collect the plastic bags to put in recycling, and see a piece of paper on the counter.

It reads as follows:

Drowning in my mind

No one hears me cry

Who was I before society

Before society put me in a pink dress

And handed me blonde hair dye

And told me to lose ten pounds or be labeled a freak?

The happiest people cry the most

Let the lyrics be your story

But I’m not like the other skinny blonde pretty girls

I’m

Different

-b.g. xox

You hold back a sigh.

“I think this is yours.” you say, handing it to her.

“Oh, it’s just some of my poetry I left lying around, that’s so embarrassing.”

I know, you think, you do that all the time.

“Did you read it?” She asks, hopefully.

“Nope.”

“Thank god, that would have been so embarrassing. My poetry is something really… deep, and personal to me.”

“Uh huh. Hey, I’m going to be doing a lot of self care this weekend, so-”

“Oh!” she interjects, eerily similar to Phoebe Buffay - you guess she’s been watching friends again - “I wanted to ask… is Leo coming over later?” Her voice is riddled with subtext, the expression on her face a little too invested in your answer.

“Uh, yeah. I told you the other day we’re spending the weekend together…”

She cuts you off again, a sudden, intense look on her face.

“When will he be here?”

You check your phone, scrolling through your recent texts.

“By 7 at the latest.” It’s around 6:40 now.

“Oh my god, I have to change,” she rushes back to her room, presumably digging through her recent additions to her closet.

You’re frozen for a minute after the interaction, left with a furrowed brow and the beginnings of a headache. You blink, then choose to reschedule processing why she feels the need to change for your boyfriend to a more convenient time. That’s enough of that for today. You don’t care what else happens, you’re not talking to anyone besides Leo for at least the rest of the day. You retreat to your room to finally shower and change into something comfy. As you pass by Isabella’s room, you hear her talking to Regan.

“...There’s something almost… supernatural about him.”

You bite back a laugh.

“Do you think he’s a…” Regan begins, ending the sentence with something too quiet to hear, but you’d bet almost any organ she said vampire.

So close. So, so close, and yet… here you are.

Not much later, Leo texts you to let you know he’s here. You read his text, and run out to hug him in the living room before even typing a reply. He picks you up, and spins you around. The embrace is warm and fulfilling and familiar, and you wish it would last forever.

“Hi, Sparky.” you murmur into his neck.

“Estrella…” he says, rocking you back and forth gently and pressing a kiss into your jawline, “I missed you so much.” He punctuates the sentence with another kiss, this one to your lips, and you smile more genuinely than you have all day. You’re about to agree when you remember the good news you’ve been saving to tell him in person.

“Guess what I got on sale for like, half off,” you start, excitedly, continuing at his invested expression, “the Assassin’s Creed bundle I showed you!”

“No way,” he starts, and you nod.

“I’ll go get everything set up, drinks are in the kitchen!” He watches you retreat into your room, disbelieving how he could possibly get someone as perfect as you to fall for him. He’s not going to question his luck. He grabs a couple caffeinated sparkling ices, and meets you in your room, setting down his bag and grabbing some comfy clothes to change into.

As you both get settled in, you fill each other in on all the ridiculous shit you’ve been through this week. You finally conclude the bizarre - yet somehow standard - Isabella escapades.

“So I will be avoiding all contact as much as possible,” you laugh.

“Yeah, no shit,” he agrees, “Consider me your human buffer.” You thank him, hugging him again and pressing a kiss to his lips.

The next couple hours are spent cuddling and finishing season 4 of Castlevania. Both reeling from the season finale, you agree this is a good place to take a break, get some food, and decide what game you should start with. It’s already 10pm, which most people would consider too late for dinner, but you have all weekend to fuck up your sleep schedules.

“Let’s review,” Isabella says, holding up two red lipsticks. She turns to Regan. “Which one?”

“That one,” Regan says, pointing to the one on the left, then turns to her list, and continues. “Here’s what we know; we’ve never seen him eat, and he never seems tired. He’s really smart-”

“Almost too smart,” Isabella adds, selecting black rose dangle earrings from her jewelry. Regan agrees, and continues.

“He’s almost hypnotically attractive, and his smile is a little too dazzling.”

“There’s something… supernatural about him. Like he’s not… all human.”

Regan writes this down.

“Plus he’s always wearing black and red, and those flowy button up shirts? It’s all adding up, Ree. That dream that someone was outside my window, the ring, everything…” She says, referencing the black and red cocktail ring she’d found with her stuff when she’d first moved, “I’m not saying it’s definite, just that… there’s a chance.”

“What about…” Regan says hesitantly, nodding toward your room.

“Please,” she scoffs, “he’s only with them to get close to me, like Damon and Caroline. Edward couldn’t have just approached Bella out of the blue, he had to infiltrate her friend group first, to seem less suspicious. Not to sound mean or anything, but they really don’t seem like the type someone… like him… would choose.” her voice gets dreamy when she mentions him.

In spite of having seen most mainstream vampire media almost as many times as Isabella, Regan still considers her the expert on these things, and decides not to point out that Edward didn’t infiltrate Bella’s friend group. Maybe it comes up in one of the retellings she hasn’t read yet.

“So, what now?”

Isabella sets down her lipstick, and turns to her friend.

“I tell him.”

Regan’s eyes widen.

“You’re going to tell him you know?”

“No… not yet. It’s too soon, we don’t have enough evidence. I’m going to tell him I know he’s in love with me, then once he’s secure in our relationship... we’ll see where it goes.”

She stands up, assessing herself in the mirror. She chose her outfit carefully; short red dress with black roses and black mesh collar, black rose bracelet to match her earrings, snug faux leather jacket, and black stiletto ankle booties with a very skinny heel, the zipper on the outside gold, not silver. She fluffs her wavy hair and turns towards the door. She looks back one more time, holding onto the doorway.

“Wish me luck.”

Leo enters the kitchen, seeing Isabella already there, leaning against the counter seductively. She’s wearing an outfit and jewelry this late at night that makes Leo wonder if she’s going to an emo tea party. He puts the takeout in the microwave. She’s still staring at him.

“Uh… hey.”

She lets out a dainty giggle, looking him up and down.

“... Hi.”

At a loss for words, and really wanting the awkward silence to be over, he continues, “Did you need something?”

“What I need,” she walks closer to him, tracing her finger over his collar, “is you.”

What the fuck?

His brain seems to stall for a moment, and she uses this opportunity to continue.

“I know why you’re here. I know that you’re only using them to get closer to me. I know-”

“Woah-”

“That you’re in love with me.”

Okay, double what the fuck.

She takes his stunned silence as shyness, and steps closer, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“You don’t need to play so coy, I-”

This time she’s the one that gets cut off. He grabs her arms and gently steps away, trying to make it abundantly clear that he’s not into this.

“Woah, okay, slow down. First of all, you’re 17 and I’m turning 20 in a couple months, so that’s a hard no. Second, I don’t know where you got this idea, but I am not dating them to get closer to you. We’ve known each other since we were like, 15, and have been through everything together. I’ve only known you for a couple months. I love them. Probably more than I’ve loved anything ever. I thought that was pretty obvious.”

He doesn’t want to be mean, he really doesn’t, but he can tell from the look on her face that she still thinks this is all part of some game.

“So why don’t I ever see you eat? Why are you so smart, and always up at night? I know what you are.”

He has to physically hold back a laugh. He takes a step back, and places his hands on the counter.

“Isabella, I have adhd. And I’m literally an engineering student. Why wouldn’t I be smart and have a shitty sleep schedule?”

She starts to protest, and he pulls out the reheated take out from the microwave.

“And for the record, I do eat.”

Exiting the kitchen quickly and retreating back to your room, he hands you your food.

“I got the game set up!” you say excitedly.

“Nice!”

You take one look at his face and can tell something happened. He sees this, and continues.

“I just had a very… interesting interaction with Isabella,” before he finishes the sentence, your head is already in your hands. You let out a groan.

“What did she do?” you mutter from behind your hands.

He pulls you into his lap, rubbing your back.

“I’m not totally sure,” you laugh, “but I think she thinks I’m secretly in love with her…” you’re both laughing before he can even finish the sentence.

“No…” you laugh, “no fucking way…”

“Believe me, I put an end to that as soon as it started.”

“Oh, I do.”

He runs his hand over your back, and you’re quiet for a moment.

“You know,” he continues, “I think getting our own place has definitely moved up the priority list.”

You couldn’t agree more.

[honeyhuun]

astro’s reaction to you calling them late at night

~  type  .  reaction

~ requested . no

~  pairing  .  astro x gender-neutral!reader

~  genre  .  comfort fluff with some slight angst 

~  tw  .  mentions of insomnia

~  song recommendation  .  all night by astro

~  a/n  .  ahh it feels so good to be writing on this platform again ~ hopefully i can stay more active on this blog hehe, i hope you enjoy my first reaction !! it’s like 12am when i’m writing this so it might be shit lol. i just miss ot6 astro a lot mm’kay, someone tell eunwoo to come home ;-;

.

.

.

you check the time on your phone and it’s only three am when it feels like you have tried to fall asleep for what felt like hours. you sit up in bed and rub your tired red eyes, fearing for when your alarm would start going off alerting you to start your day when you hadn’t even finished the last. in your sluggish haste you dialled your boyfriend’s number with empty hope that’ll he will pick up... 

.

| p a r k  j i n w o o 

it took him a while to answer, as expected he was fast asleep. but when he was dragged finally dragged so far outside of his sleep cycle to notice that his phone was ringing, he shot up so fast and answered immediately. when jinwoo heard your voice on the other end he became even more concerned than he already was. why were you awake at this time? was something troubling you? were you in danger? this worried leader bear would not stop worried leadering, he can’t help it, it’s in his nature to be concerned about you. however when you said you just found it a bit hard to sleep and wanted to hear his voice, he softened (a just a bit though he’s still nag you a bit but it was all out of love). jinwoo would then spend the rest of the call’s duration talking softly about his day and things he’s been interested in lately. and maybe MAYBE sing a short lullaby for you really really quietly (so quiet you’d think he’s whispering). in between all his sweet actions he never fails to tell you he loves you and that he’s so extremely proud of you no matter what you do. he wouldn’t end the call until you’ve been silent for 20 minutes and hears your heavy breathing from the other side of the line.

“you want me to sing for you? really bubs, is there anything else- okay, okay, but only because i love you so much my beautiful amazing y/n. if you ever feel like this again please call me, i don’t care what time, your wellbeing is my number one priority” 

(i’m blushing oml i love jinwoo so much ;-;)

| k i m  m y u n g j u n

when it comes to you he would be all bright n’ smiley, no matter how tired he actually was. you knew he had musical promotions coming up which is why you wanted to avoid calling him during the later hours of the day as much as possible. but you should know myungjun is always up to talk to you no matter the time place or day: you’re his love why wouldn’t he? when he answered your call he tried to mask the tiredness in his voice by speaking in a chirpier tone than usual, you laughed at his attempt and said you were going to end the call to let him rest. myungjun of course would never let you have the final say so he started to whine until you gave in and continued to talk to him. then he insisted you guys face timed his excuse being “if i don’t see your face i am physically unable to go to sleep” complete bullshit, but that’s what you love about him. when you answered his face time request he had the biggest shit eating grin on his face. you’d guys would be on call for about an hour telling shitty jokes, blowing raspberries at the screen and talking about places you’d like to visit when you’re both less busy. myungjun only agreed to end the call when both of you struggled intensely to keep your eyes open. 

“oooo, look at you my perfect baby!! you’re so good looking you know that? you take my breathe away every single day, i can’t believe you’ve deprived me from seeing your face for this long”

“it’s too late for this myungjun...”

“no matter the time i will shower you with the compliments you deserve jagi!”

| c h a  e u n w o o

good chances are he’s awake and can’t seem to sleep, not being able to clear his head to the point of exhaustion. eunwoo was fully prepared to spend the rest of the night awake. maybe he could do something more useful with his time and catch a nap on set later in the day. kicking off his covers, he was planning to get out of bed but then he got your call. out of all the members i feel eunwoo would be the happiest to get a call from you at this time of night (all of the members wouldn’t really mind but eunwoo would love getting calls like this, it made him feel liked you needed him). when he picked up and there was no hint of sleepiness in his tone you got worried. for the first few minutes all the call was you two sweetly bickering. “why are you still awake-” “well why are you?” “you called me first” “well if you were fast asleep you wouldn’t pick up” and more cute shit like that. talking to you at times like this would bring him so much strength and he really treasures it. something about your silly sleep deprived conversations feels so intimate to him and it sets his heart alight. when he can tell you’re drifting off, he makes sure to tell you he loves you once more before trying to get some sleep himself. the sounds of you soft half-awake sighs would lull him into a deep sleep and you would only notice he never ended the call when you wake up to your phone’s battery being on 3% and the sound of a snoring eunwoo.

“i’ve noticed i don’t sleep as well without you in my arms. i miss your sleepy voice, it’s like a lullaby to me. when i see next you i’m never letting you leave my sight again.”

| m o o n  b i n

is it just me or does anyone else think our binnie has a slight temper when he’s woken up from sleep. it wouldn’t last for long but he’ll be very cranky and frustratedly pouty if his alarm had gone off or one of the members started shouting in the dorm when he’s trying to have a lie in. he’d wouldn’t be any different when he heard his phone ringing from the bedside table. he was so tempted to fling that thing out the window. when it went off for the third time he answered the call clumsily almost missing the answer button. in a pissed sleepy voice he answered “what do you want?” you taken aback by your normally sweet boyfriend’s bluntness, whispered a quick apology before ending the call. moonbin felt so awful when he was realised it was you. the last thing this boy wants to do is hurt your feelings and he was angry at himself for denying you in a time of need (now we have a really frustrated pouty bin). he immediately called you back and apologised a lot (even after you said it was fine, his every other sentence was filled with sweet sorry’s and kissy noises just to make sure you don’t hate him) moonbin would calmly ask why you called and got a bit worried when you said you couldn’t sleep. bin would scold you lightly for maybe staring at your screen for too long or not taking as many breaks as he thought you needed. but then again he would comfort you and ask if there’s anything you’d like to get off your chest. after letting you rant he gave his best advice and the most loving and encouraging words he could. you fell asleep to the sounds of his praise and bin couldn’t have felt better.

“baby i’m so so sorry, you know i would never deny you like that on purpose, please don’t be hurt. you’re worth so much to me, i couldn’t bare for you to be upset with me. you know how much i care about you love, right?” *ensue more pouty and whiny bin waffle*

(why this so long and i’m not even binnie biased -_-)

| p a r k  m i n h y u k

minhyuk would be wide awake when you call him. he feels like one of those people who finds it really relaxing to go on runs in the early morning, watching the sunrise by the river; seeing streets around him get busier as the city starts waking up. he would be in his kitchen filling up his water bottle, hearing his phone ring from the island behind him. his eyes glanced at the contact name and he smiled. minhyuk answered your call like he would answer any other, failing to realise that it was going on 4am and you had things to do in the next few hours. after hearing that you couldn’t sleep he would chuckle and joke around “what’s the thing keeping my y/n from sleeping? tell me and i’ll beat the shit out of the thing ” (not lying he would punch the air around you if you said it was bothering you, he really is that whipped). i don’t think the conversation would hold anything in particular. it would just be mindless small talk and random thoughts as rocky is getting himself ready for his run. it would be so light hearted and sweet, this is what most of your relationship is like and why you love minhyuk so much. everything is so chill and thoughtless with him, you match each other so well. you could say something and nine times out of ten he is thinking the same thing. after sometime he would say he had to end the call because if not he’d miss the sunrise. you complained playfully that he was choosing the sun over you and minhyuk found it funny; promising to make it up to you in one way or another. but you didn’t expect to be woken up by the clattering of pans and cups caused by your clumsy boyfriend, in your kitchen trying to make you breakfast.

“ahh don’t worry y/n, i would never need the sun when i have you with me. you make me so happy you’re like my own personal sunshine. try and get some rest and you’ll wake up to pictures of the sunrise that reminds me so much of you.”

| y o o n  s a n a h

out of all six members, he would be the only one not to pick up. sanah obviously wouldn’t do it on purpose, he loves you way too much to ignore you like that. he probably left his phone to charge in another room or in a more likely scenario poor bubs was just so tired he couldn’t wake up. even if you threw water on him our maknae wouldn’t budge. so when you called, his phone was just vibrating on the table untouched. after the fifth go you just stopped trying to reach him and started up at your celling hoping tiredness would reach you soon. in the morning when sanah checked his phone and saw all your missed calls, colour drained from his face and he’d get so panicky that he’d almost drop his it. he called back immediately, flooding your exhausted state with so many questions it would make anyone lightheaded. when telling him you just wanted to hear his voice hoping it would help you sleep, he replied with “did you end up getting any sleep then?” and when all he was met with was silence from your end, his heart dropped. he was so angry at himself and would never let it go that he was the reason you didn’t sleep (he wasn’t but trust me for the next week he’d go to bed with his phone right behind his ear). sanah would tell you to get your laptop ready with a show you’d been meaning to watch because he was coming over for a nap n’ movie date. when you tried to object because you had things to do that day he told you no but’s and he’d cancel work/school/your meet up with friends for you. in no time he showed up at your door in his pyjamas with two plastic bags, filled with extra blankets and your favourite sweet and savoury snacks.

“what do you mean you didn’t get any sleep and did some work instead? sweetcheeks you know that’s horrible for your health, i can’t have you being sick, it would break me knowing i was the reason. you know what? get your netflix account up i’m coming over- no excuses, i’ll handle everything else, now go get ready to be attack with my love.”

(the sweetest >:( i cry)

.

if you reached the end thank you so so much for reading. if this comforted you even just a bit i’m so glad <3 ily u all ~~

[wakeup-wakeup-if-its-all-you-do]

I was trying to imagine what Deku v. Kacchan part 3 would be like and it quickly turned into a whole fic lol! Anyways here it is...

A Hero Distracted

(now on ao3 by pearl_sailboat)

word count: 2,641

tags: manga spoilers, izuku midoriya / katsuki bakugou, angst with happy ending, vigilante deku, deku is going through it, soft bakugou, cursing

summary: takes place right after Deku leaves All-Might and the bento. But he doesn't know that Kacchan will bring him back one way or another.

Deku zipped through the sky, using blackwhip to propel himself forward, so he could put as much distance between himself and his mentor. He didn't look back, he couldn't look back. Whatever scene he'd left behind had to stay behind or else he might lose his nerve and go back to the teacher, the father-figure, who had already given him so much. Deku would not let All-Might give his life too. End of discussion.

He could actually feel the anxiety rolling off the vestiges as they watched him fly across the skyline. They were silent, probably still trying to figure out how to tell him to go back. But it didn't matter what they would eventually say, nothing was going to change Deku's mind. Nothing. 

Deku was so distracted by his resolve to keep moving forward that he didn't notice the three figures floating ahead until they'd launched themselves at him. It didn't matter though, he was no longer the helpless kid he used to be. He'd left behind everyone in his life and that meant that the only one in danger was him. Yes, he thought as blackwhip shot out of him in all directions, let me be the only one who gets hurt. Let me take all the damage, let everyone else stay safe. 

The thought was so all-consuming that his landing was a little rough and he flinched a tiny bit when his legs absorbed the shock. But smooth landings were at the bottom of Deku's priorities… right now he had to incapacitate these three so he could keep moving. He turned to look at his attackers, still entrapped in blackwhip, but… they were already knocked out? And when did they get so many cuts and bruises? Had they been this badly beat up when they first attacked him? Hmpf, maybe they fought over who would get to take me in… Guess there must be a pretty great reward but, still, it's odd…

Before he could finish his thought, he felt a searing pain against the side of his face and the explosion made his ears ring. Dammit, what now? He shot out blackwhip in all directions but before he could even get up, he felt a boot kick him in the shoulder. Hard.

"ARGHHHH," he cried as he moved to grab the leg attached to the boot.

He still couldn't see his new attacker but dammit, it had been a really long day and he was starting to get mad. His hand latched on to the leg and he was about to send his attacker flying over his shoulder when he felt another boot smash down on his wrist. This time he yelled so loud it almost drowned out the sound of his wrist breaking. Who was this person? They were certainly more skilled than the last three...

"You done, nerd? Or am I gonna have to break your legs too?"

That voice… I know that voice… But why? Why is he here? He can't be here… He's still h-

"Dammit, ANSWER ME DEKU!!!" Kacchan yelled behind him as more explosions went off, but this time not aimed at him.

Deku still felt like his wrist was on fire but he made himself get up. He turned around to find Kacchan smiling maniacally, suited up in his hero uniform. No, he's still hurt! He can't be out here! Why did he… oh. All-Might must've sent him. How could he? When he knows-

"Shitty Deku, you never listen, do you? Do. I. Have. To. Break. Your. Legs. Too?" Kacchan said with a small explosion to emphasize each period.

That's when Deku attacked. He didn't want to hurt Kacchan but he knew that the angry blond would never let him go. For some reason, Kacchan had decided that it was his job to protect Deku even if it cost him his own life. Idiot, he thought, not for some reason. He did it because he had too; you were weak so he had to protect you so that All For One wouldn't take the power of One For All. This is your fault. That's why he had to be strong now. That's why he didn't hesitate to connect his fist to Kacchan's face. That's why he didn't hesitate to grab Kacchan's shirt and send him fly- BOOOOM!!!! DAMMIT, how can he still attack when I'm literally throwing him?!?! And the explosion hurt. so. damn. much. Somehow, Kacchan kept firing even when he slammed into the roof's exit door, using his AP shot to blast Deku in the stomach. 

"Is that ALL YOU GOT DEKU??? DON'T TELL ME I CAME ALL THIS WAY FOR YOU TO GO EASY ON ME???" Kacchan cackled. 

He was seriously laughing at a time like this? Deku shook his head, he couldn't afford to get distracted by the Kacchan of it all. He shot out blackwhip again, but Kacchan dodged just like he always had.

"SERIOUSLY, YOU THOUGHT THAT WOULD WORK??? YOU'VE NEVER BEEN ABLE TO CATCH ME, NERD!!!" 

Was Kacchan actually… enjoying himself?!?!? Deku wasn't surprised that Kacchan would brag about always winning Catch-a-Kacchan but those memories seemed so far away… No, stop getting distrac- BOOOOMMM!!!!! Kacchan had blasted him again, Deku needed to get his act together and quickly! He took a deep breath and just as he felt Danger Sense activate, he dodged Kacchan's next explosion and launched himself forward. He grabbed Kacchan's hair and yanked him downwards so he couldn't fire. Deku was about to kick him when he felt a pain in his legs. Kacchan hadn't been able to fire at Deku's face so he'd fired at his legs instead! Nothing seemed to be broken yet but, god it really, really hurt.

"HAHA I TOLD YA I WOULD BREAK YOUR LEGS TOO DEK-" Kacchan didn't get to finish that sentence because Deku sucker punched him so hard he went flying into the closest building.

Kacchan coughed up some blood before grinning wide, "NOW WE'RE TALKING!!! OHHHHHH BUT I'M STILL GONNA KICK YOUR ASS NERD!!!!!"

But Deku was frozen. No… No, no, no, no, no, no… I - I punched him right where… right where… I wasn't thinking… He coughed up blood… No, no, no, NO, NOOO!!!! He pressed his hands to the sides of his face, well the sides of his mask, as he sank to his knees. This is why he had left in the first place. He didn't want anyone else to get hurt. The people he cared about always got hurt. It was all his f- BOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Deku's ears were ringing so bad he was pretty sure he would never hear again. The flash of the explosion had blinded him, how long it would last was unclear, but Deku knew he'd been blasted onto his back. He groaned as he registered the shape his body was in, thankful that the adrenaline was keeping him from feeling the full weight of his injuries. He lifted his head as he began to blink away the dark spots in his vision. But immediately his head was pushed back onto the floor of the roof. He heard talking but he still couldn't make out the words so he struggled against the hand. He knew it was useless but struggling was all he could do. So he fought against the hand he still couldn't completely see with everything he had.

"God Deku, give it a rest," he heard when the ringing eventually released his throbbing eardrums.

That's when he noticed that it was Kacchan's hand that held his head down and that Kacchan had him pinned to the ground. Wait, where is my mask? Deku's eyes searched for the mask but before he could find it, Kacchan took it out of his pocket.

"Looking for this? Yeah, you're not getting it back, Deku. This piece of shit lets you lock yourself away and I ain't putting up with it."

Deku rolled his eyes. Why did Kacchan care if he locked himself away? Didn't he realize that if Deku didn't, he'd be too weak to stop All For One? 

"Why won't you say anything, dammit? Never thought I'd miss your nerdy mumbling…"

Why did Kacchan look sad as he said that? Nah, that must've been in Deku's head. He didn't answer that question either though. They didn't have the most traditional friendship, but Kacchan was the only one who stood a chance of bringing Deku back and that terrified him. He knew Kacchan would tear apart anything he said and would use it to convince him to go home. Right now, Kacchan was as dangerous as Shinsou; one word and Deku would lose.

"So you're mute now, is that it?" Kacchan demanded. "Fine then, I'll talk and you better fucking listen, Deku! I don't give a crap about your whole I-need-to-save-everyone routine but I thought you did! Isn't that the whole fucking reason you left in the first place?"

Deku's eyes widened in curiosity. What was Kacchan talking about? His emerald eyes were only met with a ruby glare.

"You didn't even realize, did you? Those three extras you pummeled back there, they looked like they could've used some saving themselves."

What are you talking about? Saving? Saving from who?

"So I was right then," Kacchan sighed and then looked towards the skyline, away from Deku.

When did Kacchan's voice get so quiet? It reminded Deku of how he had been at the sports festival… quiet because he was serious. Why did that tone unnerve Deku so much? Why did those words fill him with… dread?

"Deku, you ran away so you could protect people. You ran away so you could focus on defeating All For One. But were you focused when you landed on this roof? No, you weren't... If you had been focused, you wouldn't have had such a rough landing. If you had been focused, you would've remembered to pay attention to blackwhip even if the landing was rough…" Kacchan paused to look back at Deku.

Kacchan's eyes searched Deku's face, piercing into his soul as if searching for something. Then he sighed again. Why does Kacchan look so sad?

"Didn't you even wonder how they got all beat up?"

What is Kacchan saying? Why does he look so sad? Why is… why is his voice SO QUIET??? I hate this… I don't know what's happening… I hate this… I want him to go back to yelling… I want him to stop looking at me like… LIKE THAT!!!!

Suddenly Kacchan's eyes hardened and he moved his hands from Deku's wrists to his face. At first Deku was relieved because maybe Kacchan had heard his thoughts and was going back into angry mode but then he spoke. If Deku had thought that tone was awful before, it was unbearable now.

"You didn't mean for the landing to be so rough," it wasn't a question, "even though you were wearing that stupid mask, only an idiot wouldn't have noticed how you flinched in surprise. It was in that moment that you probably forgot all about blackwhip… quirks are like muscles, Deku, you know that. When you flinched, blackwhip flinched too… you slammed -"

But Deku didn't hear the rest of that sentence. It all blurred away as the realization sunk in. He was responsible for the cuts and bruises on his attackers. He had knocked them out without even realizing. Because he had been distracted. What was he even distracted by at the time? What could be so impor- Oh. That's when he started crying. It was all too much; if he wasn't failing at one thing, he was screwing up another. He had been so distracted by his own resolve to distance himself from everyone that he hurt other people. It didn't matter that they were villains, they were still people. How could he call himself a hero? He was the least deserving person of that title!

"Kacch-" Deku was crying so hard that he couldn't finish before erupting into more tears.

But it didn't matter because Kacchan sat up and pulled him into a hug. He lost track of how long they sat there like that, hugging each other tight like their lives depended on it. And it did, at least for Deku. He knew that if he let go or if Kacchan did, he wouldn't survive. He cried and cried but Kacchan never pushed him away. 

"Kacchan, I - I messed up!" he wailed, "I c-couldn't defeat All- All For One. I d-didn't protect my f-friends. A-and I h-hurt those people. I c-can't s-save the world!"

"No, you can't," Kacchan said.

Deku stopped crying, momentarily shocked. Before the weight of those words could settle over him, he felt a slight pain in his side. Kacchan had jabbed him with his finger, but why? Kacchan broke their embrace so he could hold Deku's face in his hands again. God, those eyes were so intense.

"You can't save the world alone. No one can. It's a big fucking world, Deku! So cut the crap and let me help you already!" Kacchan said, those ruby eyes softening just a little.

Deku shook his head, "But you got stabbed last time!"

"'Cuz you kept on fucking going on on your own!" Kacchan said, jabbing his finger in Deku's side again.

"Ouch! That actually hurt Kacchan!"

"Tch! That'll teach you to pull that crap again, nerd!"

"But Kacch-"

"Shut up! Don't you fucking realize that you trying to do this by yourself is what caused this whole fucking mess in the first place? So just. Stop," Kacchan pressed his forehead against Deku's, "And let me help you, you damn nerd."

Maybe it was because he was still in shock from all the explosions, maybe he was a bit delirious from all the crying, or perhaps it was because he was just so goddamn tired of running. Whatever the reason, Deku didn't freak out like he would've thought he would've if someone had told him he'd be this close to Kacchan. It just felt so… so right. For the first time in a very, very long time, Deku felt safe. 

He leaned his own forehead against Kacchan's to return the pressure and said, "Okay."

They had so much more to talk about later but, for now, this one word was enough. It said everything that Deku couldn't yet; it promised that next time he would not be alone. It admitted that he had been wrong to isolate himself from the people he cared about. It accepted that Kacchan was right, that no one could save the world alone. And though Deku didn't yet know it, that one simple word signalled the birth of the partnership that would one day be known around the world as "The Wonder Duo."

"Okay," he said again before leaning his tired head against Kacchan's shoulder and closing his eyes.

Deku fell asleep almost instantly but not before he heard Kacchan's light chuckle. Not before he felt Kacchan lift him up in his strong, steady arms. Not before he felt the faintest of kisses on his forehead. It had been days since he'd gotten to rest so he was completely knocked out when Kacchan carried him off the roof. He slept through the shocked reactions of his classmates when Kacchan appeared at the hospital, carrying Deku in his arms. He slept through it all, but Kacchan would tell him about everything when he woke up. One day, though that day was still very far away, he would tell their children about how he'd lost his way and how Kacchan was the one who saved him. He'd tell them about how they took turns saving each other so they could save the world. One day, Deku would smile as he told their children the story of how he and Kacchan became the greatest heroes ever.

[kikis-writing-world]

Think Happy Thoughts

Summary: Poe is resisting the interrogation techniques of The First Order after Kylo Ren captures him on Jakku. The main way he’s keepng sane: thinking of you.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F! Organa/Solo Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Rating/Warnings: Vague descriptions of torture, blood and pain. It’s set in the interrogation scene of TFA from Poe’s POV so... SMUT there is like, 1.5 sentences of Smut, but it’s there! lol No beta/editing as usual.

A/N: So this isn’t as lighthearted as that post, but I once posted a joke about Poe sleeping with Kylo Ren’s sibling and he finds out when he’s probing Poe’s memories for the map. I like how this turned out though and I have an idea for a follow up with Poe and F! Organa/Solo Reader.

Poe wasn’t sure if there was any part of his body that didn’t ache. They’d sent in trooper after trooper, droids, officers - it felt like the whole First Order had come through the room, all looking to get information from him. He gave none. When they slapped, punched, zapped, threatened- he didn’t give in. Every new form of interrogation or torture they rolled out, he grit his teeth through the pain and hit them with some smart-ass quip. He wished his voice held more bite and less pain, but he wasn’t going to let up.

He was scared but he wasn’t going to show these sons of banthas that. He didn’t like his odds of making it home this time. Shackled to the interrogation table he couldn’t talk, shoot or fly his way out of this one. All he could do is try to protect the information he had and hope they grew tired of him being uncooperative sooner rather than later. He wasn’t worried about himself, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t worried about others.

BB-8, wandering around Jakku. His Dad, who already lost his wife to the war. Leia, who had lost so many people over her lifetime. You…

God, he hated that he would be leaving you behind. You both knew the risks of this damned war, both understood the likelihood of the two of you living happily ever after grew slimmer with each mission. You two never promised to make it back to the other, knowing one day it was likely going to become a promise you couldn’t keep. Despite every logical part of your minds knowing this was a possibility, he knew that you would be heartbroken.

He shook away the thought, trying not to dwell on the image of you collapsing into Leia’s arms as you sobbed. As you grieved him. Instead he tried to focus on the time he had been lucky enough to spend with you. Glances shared in the dining hall. Quiet moments snuck out of base, exploring the surrounding terrain. Moments holding each other when one of you returned back to base after a dangerous mission.

The relationship had been secret at first. It had made sense at the time, neither of you wanting to flaunt your found happiness when the galaxy was feeling the pressures of the war. Both of you had seen how the war affected the relationships of your parents and the friends around you. He was more scared to tell Leia than you were.

“Of course she’ll be fine with this, she loves you!” You would laugh, trying to assuage his worries.

“That’s what makes it worse. I’ve got nowhere to go but down.”

You had been right, of course. When the two of you finally broke the news to her, she just smiled that knowing smile of hers. Of course she already knew. There wasn’t much on this base she didn’t know about, let alone her daughter and her best pilot falling in love. She warned you both, telling you it wasn’t easy to love during a war, but supported the happiness you had found in each other nonetheless-

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.”

Poe lifted his head from the table as his thoughts were interrupted, not needing his eyes to adjust to recognize the inky black mask of Kylo Ren. It took a moment to see only one of him, instead of three.

“Comfortable?”

Despite his fatigue, the ache that radiated down to his bones, the sinking of his stomach at the sight of the man, he knew he had to keep strong. Even if it was just on the outside. “Not really.”

Unbothered, Ren continued. “I'm impressed. No one has been able to get out of you what you did with the map.” The expressionless helmet stared down at Poe, trying to intimidate him.

Poe almost wanted to laugh, but he couldn’t quite get the air into his lungs. “Might wanna rethink your technique.” He challenged. 

There was a beat of silence. Poe forced himself to keep staring at the blank mask. It was unnerving, but he would never back down to this coward who wouldn’t even show his face.

Ren moved his hand slowly, raising it in front of Poe. He shifted in his restraints, preparing for the torture to continue. Ren never touched him, but he felt something regardless.

He grunted, trying to shake off the feeling. A buzzing in his ears, a pressure in his skull. He fought against it and it only got worse. The pressure changed to a near stabbing feeling. Millions of pinpricks in his brain. His ears filled with sounds, his mind’s eye seeing images- Ren was in his head. Digging through his memories, searching for the information he was keeping from them.

Poe forced himself to think elsewhere, just like he had for the other torture he’d gone through. It was always easier to ignore the pain when he thought of you. Thought of protecting you.

His head crashed back into the headrest, but he wasn’t sure if he had done that or Ren had. He whimpered at the growing pressure. Everytime his memories focused on you, it felt like someone flipped a switch for a different memory. Always back to the village on Jakku.

Your smaller hand in his as you walked through the hanger together- Lor San Tekka’s hut- Your smiling face, lit by the tiny candles he’d smuggled into the dorms as he tried to treat you to a candlelit dinner- The kindly older man handing him the leather satchell- 

“Where is it?” Ren demanded, trying to follow the memory. Trying to make Poe follow the memory of that leather sack.

You, in his lap in the cockpit of his X-Wing, squealing and holding onto him as you begged him to go faster- his X-Wing, still on Jakku- Trying to tell the man to hide before The First Order arrived- Your lips on his, your soft cheek under his palm as your fingers tangle in his curls, you taste like caf and candy- 

“The Resistance,” Poe grunted, breathing heavily as he tried to keep control of his own thoughts. He swore, he could taste caf and candy over the coppery taste of his own blood. “Will not be intimidated by you.”

The pressure increased, making him squirm.

Running through the desert, the satchel heavy in his hand. He can feel the wind in his hair- not the wind, your hands running through his hair as he kisses down your neck- it tastes like the desert, of the sand that catches the breeze. He runs to the X-Wing, sweating in the desert heat even at night- sweat drips down his neck as he thrusts into you. You’re under him, gripping his arms as you whine his name up at him. Your own skin shines with sweat in the dimly lit room, warm skin flush against him. He moans your name back to you-

He can’t explain it, but he feels the energy change. The pressure in his head goes from a pulling to a pushing. Instead of pulling the memories of Jakku forward, he’s pushing the memories of you away. The feeling of you being pushed away sits heavy in his gut.

“Where... is it?” Ren demands once more.

You’re laughing at his joke- you’re shot on the training course- you’re putting up your hair- you’re bleeding from a cut on your hand- the X-wing’s engines sputter- you’re crying- you’re laughing- you’re screaming while warning alarms go off- BB beeps- 

He can’t keep up with the images swirling in his mind. Happy memories of you. Upsetting memories of you. Jakku. BB-8. The Map. Poe Screams as he fights it.

“You take this. It's safer with you than it is with me.”

It doesn’t stop. The memory doesn’t switch. It plays like a holovid in his head and he has no control over it.

“You get as far away from here as you can. Do you hear me? I'll come back for you! It will be alright.”

All at once it’s gone. The memories, the pressure, the pain. He can barely breath, he feels dizzy. Black spots creep into his vision - is what he’s seeing real, or is it another memory? He’s not sure.

“The best pilot in the Resistance will be the reason they fall,” Ren mocked. Poe could barely hear him over the rushing of blood in his own ear. “Did you get that title through skill, or did it come with fucking the Princess of the Resistance?”

Poe sputtered, feeling like he was going to be sick. He wanted to talk back, to say something to defend himself, to defend you. He physically couldn’t.

“Don’t worry,” Ren chuckled darkly as Poe’s consciousness started to fade. “I’ll make sure my darling sister knows you thought of her right up until you gave away the information that kills them all.”

Sister?

Poe collapsed against the interrogation table, unconscious.

Tagging: @wickedfrsgrl​ @din-damn-djarin​ @dinthisisthe-wayson​ @vonschweetz​

[duffs-shot-glass]

I Had The Right To Do That (Izzy Stradlin)

I Had The Right To Do That

Izzy Stradlin x Reader

Smut

WARNINGS: profanities, sexual content

Word Count: 1,134

Y/N’s POV:

I watched as the man in front of me took another swig of his beer. I hadn’t come to this party to find someone, but I guess that’s how it worked. One night stands weren’t my thing. If you knew me, you knew that. The guys are the ones that dragged me to this party in the first place, even though I didn’t want to go.

I always ended up alone at these things, but this time was different. This time I was talking to a man and he was actually a lot nicer than most. He didn’t act like he wanted to just get into my pants and leave. He acted genuinely interested in what I had to say and I couldn’t help but be impressed. “Well I’m gonna use the bathroom. I’ll be right back okay?” I smiled at the man and nodded my head. He then headed for the restroom. I stared off into the distance and thought of the man, then I felt someone sit next to me. I turned to see who it was and to my surprise, it was Izzy. “Hey Iz. What are you doing?” I looked over at Izzy to see an angered look on his face. His expression soon turned to a wolfish one though as he looked behind me. I turned my gaze behind me as well to see what he was looking at. That’s when I saw Chad, the man I was talking to, walking towards us. “Hi,” He waved shyly at Izzy. “Uh Y/N who is this?” Chad had a smile on his face, but I could tell he was at least slightly upset. “Hi. I’m her boyfriend.” Wide-eyed, I looked at Izzy. What the fuck did he just say he is?! My boyfriend? “What the fuck Y/N? Why did you tell me you’re single?!” Chad was now very visibly upset with me and I was very very upset with Izzy. “Chad, listen this isn’t-” “She felt bad for you.” I gave Izzy a death stare and ran out of the home. Once I was outside I began walking down the sidewalk. Where am I gonna go? It’s three in the morning. I can’t walk home alone. I stopped walking and decided the sidewalk would be a good place to sit. I was hugging my knees and my face was buried in my hands. I was so mad at Izzy. He was the only one I could go to, to talk about relationships and guys. Izzy knew how badly I wanted a relationship, and he knew that was my chance of getting one. My anger only built inside of me as I thought about what had happened a few minutes ago. “Y/N?” I lifted my head to see none other than Izzy Stradlin, standing there in his black skinny jeans. “What the fuck do you want asshole?” Izzy could tell I was being serious. He scratched the back of his neck and walked a bit closer to me. “Um...I had the right to do that.” I stood up immediately and walked towards Izzy. His eyes widened slightly but he stayed still. I pointed my finger at him as I spoke, “Listen to me Stradlin. You had no right to do that!” Izzy’s eyes were downcast as he spoke, “I was just being a good friend.” At this point my blood was boiling “A good friend?! Really Izzy? How many times have I told you I wanted a relationship? How many times? Do you realize I just had a chance and you took that from me?!” Izzy looked me right in my eyes. “Listen Y/N I was just trying to be a good friend. You always told me you never wanted to lose our friendship, and if you got a boyfriend we definitely wouldn’t be as close.” Did he seriously think like that? He isn’t dumb. He knows that’s not why. “Oh I see. You didn’t do it because you were trying to be a good friend. You did it because you're selfish!” I was yelling at him now and I’m sure people could probably hear us. “I’m sorry I don’t wanna lose you! I love you okay?! Seeing you with some guy would kill me Y/N. I wish you understood that.” I looked at him completely taken by surprise. He loves me? I pulled Izzy into a hug and whispered, “I love you too Izzy.” He kissed the top of my head and then he broke the embrace. I was disappointed, but then he took my hand. “Where are you taking me?” Izzy looked back at me with a sly smile on his face. That’s when I realized he was opening the door to his car’s backseat. Before I could protest Izzy brought me into the backseat with him. His lips attached to mine in a passionate kiss. He began to kiss down my neck. His kisses were intoxicating. I soon realized that I was under him. I was under Izzy fucking Stradlin. The fame Izzy had didn’t really faze me. I had been best friends with the guitarist since the band's early days. Even though I always had a close bond with Izzy, I never thought he saw me as more than a friend. In other words, I never thought this

day would come. His hot breath fanned over my neck as he spoke quietly, “I’ve been waiting so long for this.” He nibbled on my earlobe before continuing to leave hickeys on my neck. He stood on his knees and began to undress himself. I could feel the wetness begin to pool between my thighs. Slowly, I began undressing myself as well. I discarded my shirt, bra, and pants. I was about to abandon my soaked panties, but Izzy got to it first. I could feel him position his cock to come inside me. I shivered slightly. A cry of pleasure escaped my lips as Izzy gently slid his hard cock inside of me. Izzy groaned as he began thrusting in and out of me. “You’re so fucking wet, and tight.” Izzy whispered into my ear. Izzy’s car was filled with the lewd sound of me moaning his name as a feeling of euphoria washed over me. “Fuck...Shit Izzy.” I screamed. “Shit Y/N...I’m gonna cum.” I couldn’t form a coherent sentence, so I just nodded my head. I felt Izzy’s warm, sticky cum shoot into me as he groaned lowly. I didn’t mind, I was on birth control pills. Izzy’s body fell on top of mine as we tried to steady our breathing. “You’re amazing Y/N. I love you so fucking much.” Izzy buried his face in the crook of my neck. “I love you too Izzy.”

Hi! Thanks for reading this imagine! I’m not the best at smut...so hopefully this is ok lol. Have a good day/night! Remember you are beautiful! :)

[kim-ruzek]

family we chose

Summary: spec fic for season nine bc that photo of paddy with painted nails Sent me. (Ft. Dad!am and cuteness)

Warnings: Cute adorableness and the possiblity you may die from how fluffy it is.

Word Count: 3.6k (lol can you believe I thought this would be 1-2k?)

Read on AO3

Notes: Paddy + painted nails + Theories = me going fucking crazy with feels.

“Adam, are you done yet?” Makayla calls to him, her voice a whine. Six year olds are not known for their patience, and Makayla is no different.

“Almost,” Adam replies as he finishes up putting away the freshly washed plates from their dinner. Makayla is old enough that she can play, happily and contently, by herself without his participation but during dinner she had asked him if they can play princesses and who was he to say no?

Especially when it helps distract her from the awkward questions she’s asking about Kim, and the clear anxiety and worry which is clearly plaguing the girl, the missing presence of her adoptive mother hanging over them both like a dark cloud.

It’s day two of Kim being in the hospital—day three, if he was to count the night Kevin and Jay found her. She had been in surgery for hours, and it had killed Adam to have to stay away, to not he at the hospital, but Kevin stayed on the phone with him and he was grateful for that.

And it was easier knowing that he was doing what Kim would want, that he was looking after her little girl, helping to preserve some normality in Makayla’s life.

When he had looked after her that night, he had just told her that Kim was busy at work, and he could see that Makayla had sensed that wasn’t just it, but for the most part she believed him. The next day was more difficult, however.

They knew that Kim is going to be okay. She has quite the recovery ahead of her, and she’s nowhere near ready to leave the hospital—she hasn’t even stayed awake for more than five minutes, and even that might be too generous. And so Adam had the task of telling Makayla this.

In his years as a cop, he’s had to do a lot of notifications and telling people that their loved ones are in the hospital but it never gets easier, and none of it could prepare him for having to tell Kim’s six year old.

It had gone better than Adam had thought, with him discovering that he’s a little better at this whole thing than he assumed he’d be. But Makayla’s worries and fears was clear; Adam having to reassure her that Kim will be coming home, and that in a few days, she’ll be able to see her.

“And,” Adam had told her with a smile, hoping to distract her. “Until then, we can have lots and lots of fun together.”

His goofy smile and his light hearted voice seemed to reassure her, as she had smiled at him them, an adorable toothy grin that somehow—even though it makes no sense to as why—reminded him of Kim.

Makayla had asked him if they could make Kim a card, to which he obviously said yes, and they had a fun evening with card, paint and glitter and Adam thought that maybe he’ll actually be able to do this. She did, however, when night came ask if she could sleep in his—Kim’s—bed and, although it sent him briefly into a panic, he immediately said yes, wanting to be able to report to Kim that he did everything right.

“Adam!” Makayla calls impatiently again and Adam laughs, shaking his head slightly.

“I’m coming,” he says, walking to her and taking a seat beside her. His bones complains about how low to the ground he has to be, but Makayla’s bright smile makes it worth it.

“Okay then, lil darlin’, how do we play princesses?” He asks her and her smile widens at her new moniker he’s given her. He called it her yesterday, right after yet another thought that Kim and her may not be blood related, or even known each other for long, but there’s already so many similarities between the two came to him.

“I’m not that small, Adam! I’m third tallest in my class!” Makayla had initially protested to the lil part of name.

“I know you’re not that small,” He had agreed, even though to him, she is, obviously. “But you’re lil darlin’ because you’re Kim’s daughter and Kim is darlin’.”

He had then momentarily freaked out, because he’s not sure how she feels about being called Kim’s daughter, and because he was scared that she’d think he was forgetting all about her mother, the one who raised her for six years.

But Makayla didn’t seem to mind, in fact, she seemed to beam wider at it. She made it clear that she liked Kim and her having matching monikers, and that she’s Kim’s junior—and thankfully, she didn’t ask why Kim is darlin’, as Adam had no idea how to answer that.

Makayla, now, in response to his question, jumps up and runs to her bedroom. She’s back shortly after, with a box filled with princess outfits, and bright materials, like a fluffy neon boa scarf.

“Here!” she places the box down, smiling proudly. Adam eagerly returns the smile, before fishing out a tutu out of it. He holds it up, grinning goofily at her.

“Somehow I think this won’t fit me.” He jokes and Makayla giggles.

“Of course it won’t, silly. You can use some of Kim’s clothes!” Makayla tells him.

Makayla quickly chooses what clothes she—and he—is going to wear, wrapping the neon boa scarf around his neck proudly. And then she’s going back to her bedroom, coming out with a smaller, more delicate box.

“First, we need to put on this!” She exclaims, opening the box to reveal kid makeup, nail polish and some stickers. Adam raises his eyebrow.

“Kim says we have to put it on before the clothes, so we don’t get the nail vanish on it.” Adam thinks she means varnish, her mistake making his heart constrict at the adorableness. Makayla then grabs this sheet, putting it over the rug.

“And we need to make sure we don’t mess the carpet,”

With that done, Adam peers into the box. “Okay, what colour do you want to paint my nails?”

It’s not a sentence Adam ever thought he’d say, not at this time anyway, but he doesn’t mind. Not even when Makayla’s eyes fill up with glee and mischief as she happily exclaims;

“All of them!”

Adam isn’t one who takes much photos, especially as he got older and more serious, and had less things in his life he wanted to document. But he takes lots after him and Makayla dress up, wanting to have a record of this for when Kim is properly awake.

And, if he’s honest, for himself, as—despite the love of his life being in hospital in the ICU—this is the happiest he’s been in a while. He snaps photos of not only Makayla, but himself, capturing his made up face, the tiara on his head and his multi-coloured nails.

Makayla is at school the next day, and Adam is in Kim’s hospital room. He’s showered and washed off his face, and in his clothes, obviously, but his nails are still painted. Makayla seemed to be really happy at him letting her paint his nails—saying offhandedly that her uncle never used to let her paint his nails—so he kept them. That, and because he couldn’t find the remover for it, of course.

“Hey, Kim.” Adam says softly. Kim’s not awake, still sleeping and if it wasn’t for the bruise on her face, the hospital gown, and all the wires surrounding her, Adam would think she looks so peaceful, like she’s just slumbering in her bed at home.

She’s off the ventilator, now, and Adam thinks that he’ll be able to take Makayla in to see her tomorrow, even if she’s not awake when he does, because she doesn’t seem as scary, as hit and miss and near death.

He’ll never be able to get the image of her lying attached to the ventilator, the day after they found her. Adam had dropped Makayla off at school and headed straight to the hospital. Kevin had met him outside, and warned him it wasn’t pretty, and he thought he was prepared—but nothing could ever prepare him for that.

Adam sits down next to her bed, now, lightly holding her hand in his. He’s immediately brought back to all those years ago, to when she was shot the first time, and she was in the hospital. He feels just as sick as he did then, feeling as if half of his heart is gone.

He can’t help thinking how this is the reverse of then, too. Back then, he had to hide how he felt from everyone, the only one who knew was Kim. And now, now he doesn’t have to hide it, everyone in his unit knows just how much he loves her, but Kim doesn’t—or rather, perhaps, can’t see it, for whatever reason.

He’s caught up in this thought that he doesn’t notice her stirring, her eyes opening. He only realises she’s awake when she squeezes his hand—weakly, still not strong—and his eyes look up from the spot they’ve been staring at and to her face.

Kim’s eyes are only half open, heavy lidded, but she’s awake and she’s looking at him. Currently, the only people who has gotten to see Kim, awake, is the doctor, the nurse and Kevin and Trudy. Adam knows he’s needed by Makayla, but he can’t help but feel envy, jealousy, that others got to have her see them and he hasn’t.

But now she’s awake, and she’s looking at him. There’s a smile dancing on her lips, soft and gentle but so, so Kim. His mind can’t help but go back to that first time she was shot again, and about the smile she gave him then, when she realised he was there, with her.

“Adam,” Her voice is barely there, dry and hoarse, coming out a little more than a whisper. But his heart skips a beat at hearing her say his name, and he knows he should calm himself, because Kim has made it clear that dating isn’t on the table—even if he thinks her reasons are nonsense—but he can’t because he loves her, because he nearly lost her, because he’s spent the last few days looking after her daughter and wishing she was his as well, because she’s awake and she’s looking at him and she’s saying his name.

“Hey, Kim.” He says again, managing to catch himself just in time before he accidentally slipped out a darlin’ instead. Her eyes glance down before glancing back up, her smile widening.

“I like the nails.” Her smile is playful, teasing and even though her voice is still dry, he can hear the amusement in it. Adam looks down at his hands, still around hers, and he feels oddly exposed, that it’s apparent just how desperate he is for them to be a family.

“Makayla and I played princesses.” He tells her, proudly, shrugging off any feelings of desperation and insecurity. He then pulls back from her hands, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“I took photos—if you want to see?” He offers, watching as Kim’s eyes light up. She instantly tries to move, to adjust herself so she’s sitting up more and he immediately stops her, jumping to help her instead.

Kim shifts over, encouraging him to sit down on the bed so that she can see the photos with ease. She’s been in the hospital for days, and the sterile smell clings to her, but he can still smell her, the essence that’s just Kim as she rests against him. He tries to calm his beating heart, but that’s impossible whenever Kim is around him, whenever she is on him.

Especially right now. When all he can think about is how much he loves her, and how domestic this all feels, showing her photos of her daughter, the daughter Adam’s been looking after.

Adam is showing her the photos, getting near the end of the mass he took, when he realises she’s stopped cooing. He thinks she must’ve fallen back asleep—understandable, depending everything her body has been through—but when he looks down at her, she’s still awake.

She’s not looking at the photos, but at him. There’s a softness, affection, in her expression and Adam doesn’t quite know how to read it.

“I love you.” She says then, her voice the clearest it’s been. He blinks, stunned, not expecting that to come out of her mouth.

“Kim—” He goes to say that they don’t need to talk right now, that he doesn’t need to hear this, but she continues, fixing him a look—a look that reminds him a fair bit of Trudy—telling him to be quiet.

“When I was in that warehouse, dying, all I could think about—other than Makayla—was you. I even called out to you; all I wanted was you, to have you save me. I thought I was going to die and all I could think about was how we’ve left things, how I’ve pushed you away. You’re my person, Adam. I know, now, I’m never going to want anyone else and all what I’ve been trying to convince myself about you, about us, it’s bull. I love you, and I never want to be scared that I’ll die without you knowing that ever again.”

This is everything Adam has wanted to hear for years, and exactly what he’s been desperate for ever since, right before Kim fostered Makayla, they slept together again. It’s embarrassing how many nights he’s spent lying awake, staring at his ceiling, wishing for her to say this to him but now, when it’s actually happening it, all he can do is stare, stunned, at her.

“Kim,” He says again, her name leaving his lip sounding quite like a plea. Hearing her say this, hearing her tell him this, it means more to him than he could ever describe and he doesn’t know exactly how to express that, how to express the thoughts and feelings in his mind, in his heart.

“Look, we don’t need to like. I don’t expect anything from you. I know we have stuff we need to talk about, I can’t click my fingers and make everything that’s happened between us okay. But I needed you to know this—I thought I could wait, until I’m better. But you—you let Makayla paint your nails,” It’s so much more than that one gesture, Adam can tell. He can tell from how she says the words, the way seeing his nails painted means so much to her, that it signifies something so much more important than just him having fun with her daughter. And he can tell because he knows her, knows Kim better than he even knows himself.

And he understands exactly what she means, excited what she’s feeling. When he let Makayla paint his nails, he did hope that it would show Kim that he’s taking his role seriously, taking the fact that he’s their family seriously, but that wasn’t why he let her. Adam let her because she’s an adorable child, because she’s Kim’s daughter, because she deserves to be happy. He wasn’t thinking about what he could personally gain from it, it was just something he did without much thought, something that just made sense to agree too—just because Makayla asked.

Adam can see that Kim understands that, and that’s what’s resonated with her, that’s what’s making her look at him like that, with love and adoration and utter affection, a look he hasn’t quite seen in her eyes since the day he proposed to her.

It’s the first time since Kim was pregnant and let him in that hope blooms in him; that Adam has hope that finally, finally, he’ll get his girl again.

He softly strokes his thumb against her hand, before lifting it up and giving it a gentle kiss. “I know, darlin’.” He doesn’t hesitate or hold back now, knowing that it will be received well, and Kim smiles at it.

Adam notices then that she’s looking tired, and realises that her body needs more rest. He gently puts down her hand. “Rest, now. We can talk more about this—us—when you’re better. You need to rest and recover, because I know there’s an adorable six year old who misses you very much.”

Kim smiles again and Adam’s heart warms at the sight of it. “And darlin’? I love you, too.”

She falls asleep shortly after that. Adam doesn’t particularly want her too, not ready to stop seeing her awake, to talk to her, to see her smile and hear her voice. But he’s okay with it, because she wants him and she might be asleep now, but they have all the time in the world, the rest of their lives, to be together.

A couple days later, Kim has gotten stronger and needs less wires, the bruise on her face going down and colour returning to her face. She’s still got such a long recovery ahead of her, and she still needs to be in the hospital for a few more weeks, but Adam can finally bring Makayla with him.

The six year old is very excited, waking Adam up at an unholy time in the morning, practically jumping around the place. She’s made Kim another card and several pictures—some of which includes Adam in them, which warmed his heart—and while she understands Kim can’t come home just yet, she’s still very happy she can see her.

Adam walks through the hospital to Kim’s room, Makayla on his hip—although the way she’s bouncing, squirming with barely contained excitement, it’s a miracle Adam is able to keep hold of her.

He’d have let her bound ahead, walking by herself, if it wasn’t for it being a hospital, Adam wanting to make sure she’s contained and doesn’t cause any destruction.

There are many perks to being a cop, and being able to weave through the hospital with ease just with the wave of your badge is one of them. Although, Adam’s badge isn’t around his neck, Makayla having claimed it for herself.

“Can I wear it?” She asked him that morning, when he explained to her why he was wearing it around his neck, on display. He had agreed, not only because she’s too cute to say no to, but because she’d be carried by him, which would clearly show the other adults around that he was a cop, even if she was wearing it.

“Uncle Kev!” Makayla greets Kevin enthusiastically as they approach Kim’s hospital room. Kevin’s been sitting with Kim until they arrive, and at Adam’s text that they had, he had clearly headed out, ready to greet them.

“Hey, M.” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s curls, the girl grinning as he does so. He then nods in greeting to Adam; the two men still need to have a long conversation—in which Adam knows his role will be too listen, the only words being an apology—and they won’t be totally fine until they do, but there’s an understanding between them.

“How is she?” Adam asks Kevin, discreetly asking if Kim is tired, so he can prepare Makayla for that.

“Good, getting better and better. She’s been napping all morning, so she’s ready for this little one,” Kevin ruffles Makayla’s hair again. “Now, M, Adam’s explained that Kim’s gonna need to take it slow? That it might be scary—but she’s okay, she’ll be home before you know it?”

Kevin’s years of raising his siblings is displayed in how he talks to Makayla, using a soft, but adult tone?

After Makayla nods in answer to Kevin, Adam’s walking into Kim’s hospital room, the six year old on his hip. Kim’s sitting up in her bed, ready and eager to see Makayla. A wide, happy grin overtakes her face as soon as they enter and Kim sees Makayla.

Adam puts Makayla down as soon as they cross the threshold and she wastes no time running up to Kim’s bed. She does hesitate before jumping onto the bed, taking a step back and cautiously climbing up at the end, not wanting to accidentally sit on Kim.

Adam watches this, and watched how then Kim guides Makayla into her arms, her daughter immediately snuggling into them, looking happier than she’s looked in days. The scene tugs at Adam’s heart; they really do belong together, that is clear, their bond strong and true.

“Come cuddle, Adam!” Makayla then looks back at him, smiling that grin of hers, beckoning him over enthusiastically. He hesitates, not wanting to intrude on the moment, on Kim’s reunion with her daughter, but then Kim smiles at him; a big, loving smile which invites him over.

“Kim, guess what?” Makayla turns back to Kim as he heads over. “I’m lil darlin’! And it’s not ‘cos I’m short, but 'cos I’m your daughter!”

The way this makes Kim feel is clear to Adam, her expression open. She responds to Makayla, but she catches his eye, and Adam knows exactly what she’s trying to express to him.

When he reaches her bed, Kim pats her other side, encouraging him to sit down with them. It’s a tight fit, Adam barely on the bed, but it’s nice. He lifts up his arm, wrapping it around Kim, and she leans into him, Makayla snuggling against her still.

Makayla quickly urges Adam to pass her bag to her, so that she can show Kim all the stuff she made for her. Kim’s face lights up at them, looking with awe and wonder and love but all Adam can think about is how well the three of them fit together, that they’re already like a family.

There’s so much to discuss and work out, but Adam is looking forward to what the future holds if this is even a small glimpse into what it’ll be like.