#~Sile the Silent~ (Sile)

[blackenedsnow]

Hiiiii so if you want to ignore this you can, but I just got a dog, His name is bubba, (yes, TCM ref.), and it got me thinkin, "hey, what would the slasher's reaction be to the reader having a pet that shared the same name as them?" I'd like this maybe with Bubba, Thomas, Jason, Michael, the Sinclairs, and whatever other slasher you wanna add (luv ur work btw :3)

slashers with a reader who has a pet that shares a name with them ; headcanons

WARNING: None

PAIRING: Bubba Sawyer x Reader, Thomas Hewitt x Reader, Jason Voorhees x Reader, Michael Myers x Reader, Lester Sinclair x Reader, Vincent Sinclair x Reader, Bo Sinclair x Reader

NOTE: Thank you for the kind words! :) This is such a cute idea and I loved writing these. Also this was mostly aimed towards cats and dogs because I literally couldn't think of anything for like.. any other variety 😭😭

BUBBA SAWYER

When you introduced your pet as "Bubba," you fully expected Bubba himself to tilt his head like a confused puppy.

The second he realized the two of them had the same name was priceless.

He started pointing at himself, then at your pet, as if to confirm he was hearing things right.

After the initial shock, Bubba became incredibly attached to your pet.

He'd follow Bubba Jr. (LOL) around the house, and you'd catch him feeding stuff to your pet that he shouldn't be when he thought you weren’t looking.

It was strangely sweet how proud he seemed to share a name with your pet, even if it did get a little confusing at times when you called for one of them.

If anything, Bubba grew a bit possessive.

He wanted to be your favorite Bubba, after all, and you could swear he would get jealous if you gave the pet too much attention!

THOMAS HEWITT

Thomas was initially quiet about the whole name-sharing situation.

He didn’t show any particular reaction when you introduced your pet as "Tommy" (or "Thomas"), but you could tell something was on his mind by the way he kept glancing between you and your pet.

At first, he just gave an amused huff and shrugged it off, figuring it was a funny coincidence.

But deep down, he was secretly touched.

Not that he’d admit it, of course.

Over time, though, you’d notice him sneaking affectionate looks to your pet when no one was around.

Thomas actually liked the idea of having a namesake—even if it was a animal—because it made him feel a little more connected to you.

It was something small, but it gave him a sense of belonging, which was rare for him.

JASON VOORHEES

When you told Jason you had a pet named "Jason," he froze for a solid minute, staring at you with that blank hockey mask of his.

He didn’t really know how to process it at first.

On the one hand, it was strange hearing his name on your lips when you weren’t talking to him.

But on the other hand, there was something oddly endearing about it.

Jason grew protective of your pet in his own silent way.

He’d keep a close eye on them, ensuring they were always safe and sound.

Whenever you called for "Jason," he’d appear too—just to make sure you didn’t need him for anything important.

The fact that he shared a name with your pet didn’t bother him too much, especially since you never mixed up the two of them (though there were a few amusing moments when both Jasons turned their heads at the same time).

Ultimately, he found a sense of kinship with your pet, almost like they were a little duo.

Two Jasons, both devoted to you.

MICHAEL MYERS

Michael’s reaction to hearing your pet’s name?

Pure silence.

As usual..

He just stood there, staring at you with that emotionless mask.

You couldn’t tell if he found it funny, annoying, or if he simply didn’t care.

But in classic Michael fashion, he wasn’t about to make a big deal out of it.

Over time, though, you’d start to notice little things—like how Michael would give your pet long, lingering looks whenever you weren’t paying attention, or how he’d mysteriously disappear and reappear at the same time as your pet's walks.

It was as if he was silently competing for your attention.

Not that he’d admit it.

He wasn’t jealous exactly, but Michael didn’t like sharing.

Especially not his name.

That being said, he tolerated your pet because it made you happy..

LESTER SINCLAIR

“Oh, wow! You’ve got a dog named Lester? Ain’t that somethin’!”

Lester burst out laughing when you introduced your pet, finding it genuinely hilarious that your pet had the same name as him.

He didn’t take it seriously at all—if anything, he was proud.

"Now we’re like a little team, huh?"

he joked, ruffling your pet's fur and making fast friends with them.

Lester thought it was funny whenever you called for "Lester" and both of them turned to look at you, and he’d laugh every time.

He didn’t mind sharing the name at all—in fact, he loved it.

Your pet quickly became his partner in crime during his rounds through Ambrose.

He’d always bring treats for them and refer to the two of them as "the Lesters," thinking the whole situation was a blast.

VINCENT SINCLAIR

Vincent was intrigued, to say the least.

He didn’t talk much, but when you introduced your pet as "Vincent," you could see the curiosity in his eyes behind the mask.

He wasn’t used to hearing his name spoken aloud, so it was a little strange at first, but he didn’t dislike it.

He found it almost poetic that your pet shared his name.

Vincent wasn’t one for words, but the quiet moments when he watched you with your pet made him feel a strange warmth in his chest.

Your pet often sat in his art studio while he worked, and over time, Vincent would even carve small figurines resembling your pet.

While it was a bit odd at first, Vincent enjoyed the quiet companionship.

Your pet’s presence wasn’t invasive, and sharing a name felt more like sharing a piece of himself with you.

BO SINCLAIR

Bo wasn’t exactly thrilled when he found out you had a pet named after him.

"Bo?"

he’d ask, raising an eyebrow.

"You named a damn animal after me?"

At first, he acted annoyed, but it didn’t take long for that classic Bo charm to kick in.

"Well, I guess it’s fitting. Both of us handsome devils, huh?"

He’d joke about it, brushing off the initial surprise, but there was always a part of him that felt a little smug about it.

Bo liked the idea of you having a constant reminder of him, even if it was in the form of a pet.

And while he’d never admit it, he found himself getting a little jealous when you called your pet's name, and he didn’t get the attention.

You’d catch him grumbling, muttering under his breath,

"Don’t forget who the real Bo is, sweetheart."

He’d eventually warm up to the pet, though, and you’d see him giving them sneaky pets when he thought you weren’t looking.

[eddies-ashtray]

♡ meet cute.

There’s this alcove out behind the school. It’s deserted and quiet, right around the corner from the outside door to the woodshop. You can normally count on it being empty, a shaded refuge when you need a break during the school day. A secret place to slip away to when things get to be too much.

Once, Daniel Adams was there throwing wood scraps in the dumpster just before the bell signalling the end of second period. But he didn’t disturb you, just went back inside without a second glance. Other than that, it always lacked a population. 

Until today. 

When you round the corner, you see the trade off clear as day; a small pouch of white powder transferred from a heavily ringed hand being swapped for a thick wad of cash. 

The guy receiving the pouch slips it into his jeans pocket before he sees you. Then his green eyes make contact with yours and he books it back down the alley before crashing through the door to the shop. Subtle.

The guy with the cash is left there alone, but seemingly unperturbed by his customers sudden exit. You imagine you might run away too, if you were buying ketamine right behind your school at 11am on a Tuesday. 

You recognize him before his curly head whips around to locate the source of alarm. What other guy at Hawkins High has chipped black nail polish and avoids barbershops? More importantly, who else sells drugs at your school? Eddie’s got that job dominated. 

“Shit.” Is all he says when he spots you there. His tone is flat, deadpan. 

You ignore him in favour of sitting cross-legged on the pavement, gravel crunching beneath your soles before you press your back against cold brick. 

You just want him to go away. To be alone. 

Staring down at your scuffed Chucks, you begin to pull at a loose thread at the bottom of your frayed pant leg, winding it around the tip of your index finger until it turns white, then unwinding it so the blood comes rushing back with warmth. 

When you hear his heavy footfalls, you think maybe your luck hasn’t run out and he might be leaving. But the crunching of gravel does not recede down the alleyway.

Black Doc Martens enter your vision. You stop pulling at the loose thread and stare at the boots for a second before your gaze meanders up to his face. 

“Please don’t tell anyone, alright?” Eddie’s tone is non-threatening and hopeful. 

“Wasn’t gonna.” You shrug, couldn’t care less about the drug habits of the people you go to school with. Or how they acquire said drugs. Who would you tell anyway? The cops? Fuck that. 

Despite the confirmation of your silence Eddie stays put, feet shuffling across gravel, rocks scraping beneath the thick soles. 

You avert your gaze, will your voice not to break when you say, “Will you please just go?” But it betrays you, cracking just slightly on the final syllable. As your teeth dig into your bottom lip, you hope he doesn’t notice. 

Eyes burning and staring intently at a triangle-shaped pebble, you hold your breath, think, don’t say it, don’t say it, please don’t say it. 

“Are you okay?” 

Fuck.

Unwillingly, your face crumples and you bury it in your hands, face warming from being watched as you break down. Tears stream down your face silently, thick and hot as they wet your palms and slide down your wrists. 

There’s the crunch of gravel again, but he isn’t walking away like you expected anyone might. Who’d want to stick around with a stranger having an emotional breakdown? 

But then you feel warmth at your side as he crouches down and leans against the wall beside you, nearly shoulder-to-shoulder. 

Any remaining energy you had has been spent on your short exchange with him, so you have none left to plead with him anymore. But as the tears keep coming and your shoulders keep shaking, you find that you don’t mind his presence so much. He doesn’t touch you or invade your space in any way, doesn’t ask why you’re crying or try to stop it. 

Eddie just sits with you. Stares out at the swaying trees in the forest beyond the school and silently sits. Even though your skin isn’t touching it’s like he’s holding your hand. 

While you never bought into any of the rumours you’d heard whispered about him in the corridors, you were never completely sure of his kindness. Though now you see he wears his eccentricities as armour. It seems Eddie is softer than the tough iron of his armor would suggest. 

His motives now are clear: he doesn’t want to leave you alone in the state you’re in. Which is more kindness than anyone at this school has ever shown you. 

In actuality, it’s the most attention anyone at this school has ever shown you. Unlike Eddie, you’re mostly just ignored, left alone. Eddie isn’t going to let that happen now. 

The pair of you are probably quite the sight. And not just because you’re openly sobbing next to him. The Freak and the Loner Girl. If you were seen together you’re sure your bored peers would have some more rumours to spread. 

When your tears dry up and you’re left with a snotty nose and dry eyes, you look out at the forest in silence with him. Staring out blanky at the shedding foliage, your breathing slows and the wind whistles. The wind kissing your cheeks is strangely comforting. Or maybe it’s just Eddie. 

In your periphery, you see him shift as he pulls his ringed hand out of the pocket of his jacket. Eddie–who you’ve only just noticed smells really good, like leather and fresh rain–shoves his hand beneath the leather to dig around in an inside pocket. 

For one silly, brief moment you think he might be about to offer you a small pouch of white powder. 

Then he pulls his hand out. It’s a tissue. 

Eddie Munson is offering you a tissue. 

The metalhead keeps tissues in his jacket. And drugs. But also tissues. 

Looking from the tissue to him, Eddie gives you a soft reassuring smile. You take it from him gingerly. “Thank you.” 

Eddie nods shortly. “Yeah.”

“You, um, you didn’t have to sit with me,” you say once you’ve wiped your nose clean, looking at him fully for the first time since you broke down. His eyes are so dark. You’ve never been close enough to notice until now. 

“I know.” A beat of silence follows his sweet sincerity where all you can hear is the sound of the trees gently whooshing in the wind. “But I’ve seen you around. You’re alone a lot.” 

“Oh.” He’s seen you around? 

“You don’t deserve to be, by the way,” he adds quickly. “Especially not…now.” 

You look away with a small smile and a soft breath through your nose. Though his delivery is a little awkward, the sentiment causes warmth to flood your chest. 

“Right,” you reply, chuckling a little as you meet his eyes again. When he smiles this time, a dimple pops into his cheek. Pretty eyes and dimples?

Smacking his thighs resolutely, Eddie pushes himself up off the pavement to stand in front of you, offers you his hand. You stare up at him, your own hands twitching in your lap, buzzing with anticipation. 

“C’mon,” Eddie prompts, nodding his head to the side. “Let’s go.” 

“Where?” 

“Anywhere you wanna go.” 

Drawing your lip into your mouth, you chew on it contemplatively. 

You don’t have to think long about your answer. Why on Earth would you stay here and wallow when this sweet, kind boy with melted chocolate for eyes is offering you his hand?

[marixrose]

The demon brothers’ reactions to seeing MC hurt—and not smiling for once—hit differently, because they’ve gotten used to your joy being the constant light in their world.

Lucifer

Lucifer notices instantly. One look at your face—vacant, trembling, no trace of your usual grin—and something in him shatters.

“You’re not smiling. Something’s wrong.”

You try to downplay it, but he cuts you off with a gentle, authoritative voice you’ve never heard before.

“Don’t lie to me, MC. I can’t fix this if you don’t let me in.”

If it was someone who hurt you—physically or emotionally—Lucifer hunts them down with cold, surgical fury. If it was an accident, he still feels personally responsible.

“You always smiled, no matter how chaotic our lives were. And now… that light is gone.”

He stays with you. Until you’re safe. Until he earns that smile back.

Mammon

Mammon panics. He’s used to your laughter, the way your eyes crinkle when you tease him. But now?

You’re quiet. Distant. Your eyes are dull.

“W-Wait… what happened? MC… talk to me.”

The guilt sets in fast—even if he had nothing to do with it. If you flinch when someone raises their voice or don’t respond to his jokes, he feels like he’s suffocating.

“Please… say somethin’. Smile, even if it’s fake. I’ll take it. I just—just don’t go all quiet on me…”

He becomes incredibly protective, staying glued to your side until you feel safe again.

And when you finally give him a tired little smile?

“There you are… heh. That’s my human.”

Leviathan

Levi spirals.

The MC who used to beam at him—even when he went off on hour-long rants about his favorite anime—is now curled up, silent.

“You’re… not laughing. You didn’t even smile at the new trailer…”

He immediately thinks it’s his fault. That he did something wrong. He replays every conversation, every moment.

“You’re acting like me… I-I don’t want you to be like me. You’re supposed to be better than me.”

He doesn’t know how to help, so he starts building comfort: turning on your favorite shows, giving you plushies, offering his room as a hideaway.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to smile. I’ll… I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

Satan

Satan sees it like a book missing its last page—your voice is quieter, your laugh is gone, and your usual warmth feels out of reach.

“Tell me. What happened to make your eyes lose their spark?”

He kneels in front of you, gentle but serious, waiting for you to speak. If someone caused this, he goes full wrath mode—no mercy. If it was something emotional, he doesn’t try to solve it immediately.

“You always smiled. Even when the world didn’t deserve it. Let me carry some of the weight this time.”

He reads to you in silence. He cooks for you. And when he catches the smallest twitch of a grin, he closes his eyes like it’s a prayer answered.

Asmo

Asmo is all glitter and sunshine—until you’re not smiling. And suddenly his whole world tilts.

“Darling? You’re not laughing. Not even smiling? What’s wrong?”

At first, he’s confused. Then concerned. Then terrified. You always smiled at him, even on your worst days—and now?

“Was it something I said? Something I didn’t say? Please, MC…”

He holds you, strokes your hair, and coaxes you with gentle affection.

“You don’t have to pretend, you know. Just let me be here. Even if you’re hurting.”

And when your lips finally curve upward, even for a second, he cries.

“That’s it. There you are, beautiful.”

Beelzebub

Beel notices immediately—but he doesn’t say anything at first. He just sits beside you, wordless, waiting.

“You’re not eating. You’re not smiling. What happened, MC?”

His worry is like a storm cloud behind gentle eyes. He’d carry your pain if he could. He brings you food, offers you his jacket, even gives you his own pillow.

“You’ve always been the one who made us feel better. Let us return the favor.”

If someone hurt you? He doesn’t ask permission. He makes sure they never get near you again.

“You don’t need to smile for me. But when you’re ready… I’ll be here.”

Belphegor

Seeing you sit in silence, blank and emotionless, hits Belphie hard—because it reminds him of himself. Of what it felt like to stop caring.

“No… no. You’re not allowed to go numb. Not you.”

He lays beside you without saying much. But his grip on your hand is tight. Protective.

“You were always the smile in this house, y’know? The one who made us feel alive.”

He won’t ask what happened until you’re ready. But if he finds out someone hurt you?

“I’ll make them wish they never breathed the same air as you.”

And when your laughter finally returns, he smiles too—quiet, relieved, and just for you.

[elysianightsss]

RUN FROM ME DARLIN, YOU BETTER RUN FOR YOUR LIFE | PART TWO

You grab your duffle bag, with one last glance at Kate and the red vials still on the table, you left.

Part of you knew that Kate didn’t know what had happened to you, only that you had been sent away but back then you didn’t care. You hated her and you sure as shit made sure she knew it.

At first you thought it was a good thing, that you missed the helicopter ride out of there, you started to make up with Kate. Bond. But then there wasn’t another helicopter out of there for four months straight. Soon enough you became suspicious and found out why.

The team, excluding Kate, had been ordering whoever was flying that week not to land at the base. You were stuck there and after being there for so long you eventually began to pick up on their obsession with you. At least one of them had to be with you at all times.

Once you got semi comfortable with them they became way too touchy. The one time you managed to get away from them you searched Johnny’s room only to find sketches of you in inappropriate positions and pictures of you sleeping.

You managed to get ahold of Kyle’s phone to find a group chat with the four of them in talking about you. What you smelt like, looked like, your likes and dislikes. All the things they’d love to do to you. They were insane. You knew a crazy person when you saw one and there were four of them on base with you and your sister.

Your sister. The little trust you had built up shattered when you told her what was going on. The guys had been finally called away on a mission, one they couldn’t reject. You were so happy to get rid of them, to have you freedom back, even if a small part of yourself missed their presence. Not that you’d even admit that even to yourself.

You had told Kate all about what you’d found but she didn’t believe you and even scolded you like a child for making up such accusations. That was it, you’d had it. With the four of them following your every move and Kate giving you the silent treatment, you were starting to feel as though you were back in the red room.

You packed your bag in the middle of the night and hot wired a car before driving far far away. You made it to the mainland where you were able to go to the nearest hotel. You waited patiently before watching this older lady leave her laptop open to go get another drink. You swiftly grabbed it and ran into the nearest bathroom.

You booked the quickest plane ticket you could find, it didn’t matter where it was for. Thankfully for you it wasn’t too bad. You would be flying to Italy in an hour, plenty of time for you to get to the airport. Slipping the laptop back when no one was looking, you made your way out of the hotel lobby and out the front.

Now, when you thought that Kate’s team was obsessed with you, you were actually nieave enough to believe it began and ended with you being on base with them. You never even imagined in even your wildest dreams or nightmares that these men would follow you.

Not until you were about to turn a dark corner and you heard the familiar thick Scottish accent, “She’s ain’t just a regular civilian Cap, she’s trained for this type a shit. We can’t underestimate her.” Your hand covered your mouth as you fell into the dark crack in the wall.

Holding your breath as he went past, you watched Johnny with curious eyes before they darted around you. He was there but where were the others? Even bigger question was, did it matter?

At this moment in time, Johnny was the one standing between and the stolen car. Thing probably had a tracker on it, you needed to find a new vehicle but with him right there you wouldn’t get far and it didn’t look like he was moving any time soon.

Your hand moved down to your gun, flicking the safety off it while it still sat in your thigh holster. Just as you pressed the strap away you heard him speak again, something about Kyle coming to his location. It suddenly dawned on you that you didn’t have a silencer on the gun, if you shot him the rest of the team would come running and you’d be in an even worst situation.

Flicking the safety back on and the strap that held it in place you made your decision, you’d have to fight him. Hand to hand combat. Clicking your neck you rushed forward running at a ridiculous speed, he turned just as he heard your footsteps only for you to slam into him.

Both of you bursted through old metal doors, as you stood you took in the dusty, empty warehouse. Rusted railings and stairs, a filthy floor where Johnny was standing from with a cough. Your eyes were back on your target as you pulled out a knife and dropped your duffle bag kicking it to the side.

“Easy princess, just wanna talk.” He holds up his hands in defence while eyeing the knife in your hand cautiously. You ignore the throb between your legs at the nickname rolling off his Scottish tongue. No, you couldn’t be distracted right now. Not when you had a fight to win.

Your pupils widened, eyes darkening as they blackened. A sight Johnny had to admit made him nervous. You were a trained killer after all, but then again wasn’t he?

“No talking.” You clicked your neck to the side, before descending on him. You moved quick he noted, using all his strength and tricks against him. You were right about the girls, you were matching every move he made, countering them with such efficiency and a ruthlessness even Simon couldn’t match.

He’d never seen or felt anything like it.

You were coming at him once again, after getting up like his punch meant nothing. Not even a flinch. Johnny started to panic. Panic that he’d loose this fight and in turn loose you for himself and the team.

He kicked the knife from your hand and managed to be swift enough to kick the back of your legs as well, taking you down to the floor.

“Did you just- kick the back of my knee? Are you fucking serious? Childish little-“ you growl taking another swing which he doges but it gives you plenty of time to grab your hidden two inch knife and stab him in the side just below the ribs. He groans loudly stumbling back away from you.

“Did you think I’d be easy? I warned you didn’t I?” You scoffed, jolting forward sticking your leg out and swiftly taking out Johnny’s legs, he dropped to the floor, using your foot you kicked him in the shoulder sending him across the room, just as you had done to your bag earlier.

“You messed with the wrong cyka.” You growled as he got up, you stalking towards him fury blazing in your eyes.

Johnny grinned like he was enjoying this fight, maybe you were too. His big hand gripping itself on your neck, you grabbed his wrist pushing yourself off the ground swinging around his body and using his weight against himself slamming him down on the ground. He blinked up at you in complete shock, allowing you to grab the knife he’d kicked out of your hand.

He was down and you were ready and rearing for another round, he couldn’t believe it. A little thing like you, “Y’know people only have a certain amount of moves.” You smirked, Johnny raised an eyebrow groaning as he stood up. You didn’t even give him a second, rushing yourself forward jumping on him.

“You have five!” You yelled squeezing his head between your legs, his big hands coming up to grip the fat of your ass. You created a first, the handle of the blade sticking out of it, and hit his head right on the nerve you had studied to make someone pass out. Johnny yelled in pain, his eyes slipping close as he fell unconscious. His grip on you loosened to nothing as he fell backwards onto the floor. You simply landed on your feet looking down at him, your chest heaving.

You ran to your bag, grabbing it and running from the scene. Looking for a car, eyes spotting a brown jeep. Perfect. Hot wiring the car wasn’t even necessary, whoever owned the car had left the keys in the ignition. You pressed the gas and sped off as fast as you could not even looking back, though you did catch a glimpse of a ghost in your rear view mirror.

Shifting gear to four, you kept going. There was no way you were stopping now, you just needed to find a place to go. You weren’t going to make it to the airport on time for your flight. Ah well it wasn’t your money you wasted. Poor old lady.

You didn’t have a plan except to keep on driving until you could think of one.

Hours and hours of driving, petrol stations and greasy food later you pulled into a town which wasn’t marked on the map you stole at WHSmiths next to the Starbucks that had the best coffee you’d ever had in.

You definitely weren’t lost, you knew you’d driven all the way to Glen Coe, the north part of Scotland. Regardless of Johnny’s heritage, seeking shelter here right under their noses was probably a better plan than getting on a plane and moving from place to place where cameras can pick up where you are.

Out here in the wilderness, without WiFi and internet. They’d never find you. You walked around town for a bit then hit the road driving into the forest area to see if you could find a shelter further away from civilisation. And you did.

The present…

Happiness is a fickle creature. A constant companion to some, hides herself entirely from others. She’s been an elusive creature to you. You don’t particularly remember the last time she had visited you, it had been so long since she’d hidden herself away, you barely remember what she looks like. Nevertheless you feel yourself still seeking her out, even if you’re wholly against putting yourself into situations with others.

Just like this one, the Halloween bash. A stupid idea really but..oh who are you kidding it was an idiot idea and you knew it. But they hadn’t found you in the now five months you’d been hiding.

What’s the worst that could happen?

To be continued…

Tags | @fruitymoonbeams-blog

[sugarflylo-vee-r]

Kinda generic but maybe Dandy x Shy/Quiet!Reader? Bonus points if reader is a fox-based toon, but I fear that's too oddly specific... looks around.

Am I doing this requesting thing right. God this makes me feel old.

'DANDY'S WORLD' crush-relationship romantic headcanons with DANDY and a Reader who's a quiet fox Toon!

ABOUT ‘dandy's world’ character DANDY x reader where reader is a quiet fox Toon!

CREDITS photo above belongs to @/nekobiites on 'x'

BLISSEY: and yes, you're doing this right, don't worry! <3

ALSO takes place before the game!

❀ Gardenview (and me, personally) inspired you by the phrase "The quiet fox jumped over the lazy dog", thus you were often delegated to the younger kids, and you were often used to teach kids the alphabet. You even had writing books in your merch line! You were a common hit among adults, thus it was almost inevitable that you would be promoted with Dandy some time during your rise in popularity. At first, the flower was a little irked, but he saw how cute you were, how shy you were and how quiet you were, and he thought you were so cute! Dandy was your key in putting yourself more out there, and the Toon Handlers saw this too... And all of the sudden there were episodes starring you two teaching shy kids how to overcome anxiety and shyness! You, Dandy, and Astro!

✿ Dandy adored your cuteness, your timidness, your talents, your everything, and he still does! He thinks you're so cute, and he enjoys flirting with you a lot! Your reactions are always a delight to witness! When he gained feelings for you, he was suddenly everywhere! If you were promoted somewhere, Dandy was probably promoted with you! Taken to photoshoot or to shoot episodes, Dandy's either in the episode with you (he is the main character, after all!) or in the set behind the camera waving at you and watching you act out your lines eagerly. His bright smile made you smile that one time, he remembers so clearly! That single smile... lit a fire in his heart that has yet to be put out. And just like that, he was in love!

❀ Late nights were he kicked his feet at the thought of you, moments where his mind drifted to you and he'd zone out with a smile... it didn't take long for Astro to pick up and smile at his lovestruck best friend. The more episodes you two showed up in, the more his heart grew for you until he looked himself in a mirror (that isn't Glisten), and said "It's now or never, Dandy." He approached you one night in your room (or floor if you're a main too), and talked with you before his heart got the better of him. He pushed out as much words as he could, he almost got as shy as you when he asked you.... "So.... do you love me too?"

✿ You leaned over and gave him a small kiss on the cheek, your own way of saying that you love him too. That day... was the happiest day of his life.

❀ Moving over to the relationship headcanons, Dandy is over the heels for you! Because of the aforementioned 'being promoted together a lot', he gets to spend a lot of time with you, even whilst on his schedule! And while there may be some times where he doesn't get to be with you, or even days where he doesn't get to see you at all in his schedule, he always manages to regroup with you later in the day. It may be lunch or another promo with you, or late at night where you two cuddle together and fall asleep in eachother's arms, but he always manages to find a way to find you again.

✿ He gets a little jealous if you and Astro get a little too close. He gets that you and Astro basically get each other, even he sees that... but, but he's your boyfriend! He is! And trust me, Astro knows that, and he knows that very well. Whether you're the type to rant about your boyfriend to your friend or the silently-getting-the-feels type, he knows how much you love Dandy, even if you don't make it obvious. He's observant like that. Astro knows when to back off, and he always disappears just when Dandy comes along to see what you two are doing. Silent soft 'aww' gaze aside, he's not the type to tease.

❀ Dandy's a well rounded lover. He's attentive to your needs, and while he may have a busy schedule, as THE main Toon, he knows what you need and he knows how to get it! Don't ask questions, dear! If you want an attentive, flirty but loving boyfriend, even as a shy fox, he seems to be the one for you.

[catboymoonknight]

Comfort

Keegan Russ x Reader

No Y/N used

Words: 1,000+

Notes: >:3

You look up from your book when you hear the front door close. You look over, seeing Keegan leaning back against the closed door.

"Hey, handsome." You say, sitting up and setting down your book, marking your place.

He looks over at you, his eyes holding a tired expression as his mask stays static on his face. "Hey, love," he mumbles softly. He begins to make his way over to the master bedroom.

You get up from the couch, quietly walking behind him. He opens the door, tossing the rest of his bags onto the bed. His feet drag against the floor as he walks towards the edge of the bed, starting to unpack his bags.

You walk up behind him, hands gently rubbing up his back and resting on his shoulders. "Why don't you go clean up in the bathroom? I can unpack your stuff."

His shoulders sag softly as he hears your voice reach his ears. He nods wordlessly, his feet dragging as he walks to the bathroom. You're heart clenches as you can tell how clearly tired he seems.

You quickly unpack his bag, not wanting him to stress about it anymore. Throwing his dirty clothes in the hamper, you pull the rest of his clothes and tuck them away in the drawers and closet.

Slowly walking over to the bathroom, you gently knock on the bathroom door. "Baby?" You ask soflty, waiting for a response from the other side. Not hearing one, you slowly open the door, seeing Keegen sitting on the toliet lid, his eyes closed. He slowly opens his eyes, looking over at you, the mask still covering his face.

"Hard day?" You softly ask, walking over to him. He watches you, nodding softly as you walk closer to him. You stand in front of him, debating whether or not to reach out to him.

 After a few minutes of silence, you slowly reach out to him. He sits silently, watching your hand come closer to his face. His eyes close as your hand cups his cheek through the mask, his furrowed eyebrows relaxing a bit.

Your other hand cups the other side of his face, holding him for a bit. You begin to slowly trail your hands down, eventually meeting the end of his mask. Your fingers slide under it, getting ready to pull it up before his hands suddenly grip your wrists. You tense, blinking a few times before making eye contact with him.

Reading the confusion on your face, he sighs, pulling your hands away from his mask.

"Not right now, baby... Give me a bit.." He says, tiredness seeping into his tone.

Nodding quietly, you gently pull him into you, your hands softly holding his head against your stomach. His arms slowly wrap loosely around your thighs, his thumbs rubbing over the back of them.

The two of you stay in that same position for a while, only the sounds of your breathing and fingers rubbing over fabric. Keegan suddenly feels his eyes stinging with tears as your hands gently rub at the back of his head and neck.

He buries his head on your stomach, his shoulders shaking softly. Your heart sinks as you feel his tears wetting your shirt. To comfort him, you rub your hands over his shoulders, gently kneeding his muscles as he continues to sob gently. Tears spring into your own eyes as Keegan continues to cry.

He sniffles softly, turning his head so his cheek is pressed against your stomach. "I love you, baby."

You nod softly, a hand rubbing his cheek through his mask. "I love you too, baby.."

His hands hold the back of your thighs tightly, almost as if you'll disappear if he lets go. You reach up towards his eyes, gently wiping away his tears. His eye makeup smudges, some coming off on your finger.

The two of you spend a while in that position, Keegan holding you close, his head pressed against your stomach. You stand there, hands gently rubbing his shoulders and up to his neck before he slowly pulls away. He looks up at you, the tears having smudged and ruined his eye makeup a bit. He stays quiet, slowly grabbing your hands in his. Slowly, he moves both of your hands to the bottom of his mask.

Understanding his silent plea, you slowly pull it off. He closes his eyes again, savoring the feeling of your fingers brushing against his skin. You pull it off completely, dropping it down to the side. Your hands cup his bare face, which causes his shoulders to sag in relaxation.

"There's my handsome man.." You softly whisper, stroking his cheekbones. A soft smile comes up on his lips, his eyes still closed. He hums before turning his head to kiss your palm.

"Keegan.." You say softly, still holding his face in your hands.

He doesn't say anything, only looking up at you with tears in his eyes. You crouch down, your thumbs wiping away his tears. "You need to wake up, Keegan."

He sniffles softly, his eyebrows furrowing deeply. He keeps his gaze on you, his eyes searching yours. "W-What.."

You smile at him, the edges of the smile shaking gently. "You need to wake up."

"Baby, what the hell are you talking about?" He says, grabbing your hands with his, keeping them against his face.

"Keegan. Wake up." You say in a stern voice.

.

.

.

.

He jolts up in bed, his lungs screaming as he takes a sudden deep breath of the cold air around the barracks. He pants heavily, glancing around to take in his surroundings. A cold sweat covers his body, the darkness flooding his vision. The only light is the small amount of moonlight that floods through the window.

His breathing slows down eventually as he sits up in his bed. He reaches up and runs his hands over his face and head, trying to process the dream. The palms of his hands press into his eyes, his body yearning for your touch.

He slowly lays back down, reaching under his pillow before his head hits it. He pulls out a small picture. It's one of you he had taken while you weren't paying attention. He can't help but stare at the picture, tears springing into his eyes.

Letting out a deep sigh, he tucks the photo back under his pillow, pulling his blankets back up to his shoulders. "Soon, baby...," he says to himself as he closes his eyes again, trying to will himself to sleep.

[punchingballs]

YOU TAKE REQUESTS NOW AHIHISHDHAJDHSJGFSHAHABABABAHAHAHAHAHAG

I like your writing style so much

Can you write about a silent reader that's free therapy for pjsk characters shsushsufhaudhbrsbz Hhaahshdjahfbsa

I LOVE YOUR REQUEST AND THANK YOU SO MUCHHH

"A CRY OF HELP ONLY YOU CAN HEAR"

AKITO

"What are you doing?" Akito suddenly asked gruffly, staring down at you while you sat in loneliness at an abandoned shady alleyway.

"..." No response, Akito expected that, he sighed heavily before walking down the stairs and sitting beside you.

"Are you in a bad mood?" Once more, Akito asked another question, this time he expected you to reply.

"No." Your voice was monotonous, particularly unexpressive. However, soon, that stoic and unexpressive facial expression you had, cracked slowly into a warm smile.

Akito's eyes widened slightly, his lips parted a bit.

"I'm glad that you were looking for me..."

Akito got flashed. That smile, paired with your ocean-like eyes, the gruff boy couldn't muster a reply as he could only stare in wonder, despite the blinding light you radiated.

"Tch..." Akito clicked his tongue and looked away, not because of the rampant emotions inside his heart, rather... you're too bright for him.

A moth drawn to a flame he was.

"This is one of your spots right? I just guessed that you were going to go here."

"Your intuition's sharp." Akito commented.

"Akito... is much more clingy than he thinks he is."

"I'M NOT CLINGY!"

TOYA

"Do your fingers hurt?" You asked Toya, he tilted his head, confused... and yet a sense of warmth washed over him when you noticed that fact.

"N-... Yes." Toya pondered about lying, but ultimately, he couldn't lie under your deep gaze.

Unexpressive, yet warm, distant yet so close... Toya couldn't describe the aura you emanated. He wants to understand it, to understand how exactly do you do this to him?

"I see." You gently grabbed his hands, placing your soft and delicate fingers on his and started rubbing Toya's fingers, massaging them with slow movements.

Toya didn't respond. "You don't have to-"

"No, this isn't entirely selfless... You seem so bothered sometimes, I wanted to understand you." You replied back, halting what Toya would say and he made a heavy sigh.

"Bothered...?" Toya wanted you to clarify, and so you did.

"You... seem so bothered, as if something's burdening you."

Toya's eyes widened when he saw your unexpressive face crack into a small smile. "Oh..."

"You don't have to say what it is to me, but... I want to understand you... Open up more to me will you? I don't want you to betray yourself anymore."

... Toya's blood froze and he could only stare in shock, those words. Were... He couldn't describe it, but he felt happy, he felt euphoric even.

Toya couldn't croak out a reply, just a small hmm... And looking away with a red hue on his cheeks.

KANADE

(marry me pls)

"This isn't it, none of this is it..." Kanade softly said while glaring at her monitor with a determined yet fragile expression.

It earned a frown from you.

"... I can't save others with thi-" Kanade suddenly felt a tug on her hand, her left arm was raised up involuntary as from the shadows of her room, you sprang out and had a frown on your face.

"What are you doing?"

A few seconds of silence, gazing at the ground, Kanade finally calmed down. "I..."

"Music that can save people, isn't composed by having frustration in the heart." You added on, and Kanade continued to stare at the ground with pursed lips.

Your grip on her left arm loosened up causing the smaller girl to place her arms on her lap.

You sighed before patting her head, warmth infiltrated Kanade's body, her heartbeat hastened, her hand crept up to hold her chest, trying to calm down her rampaging heart.

"Come on, let's try again, this time I'll help you." You sat beside her, and stared at the monitor.

Perhaps composing a love song... isn't bad for now? Especially when right now, there's a light so bright beside her, she can see where the path is now...

MAFUYU

Silence, silence... Perhaps some crow noises would fit between the two of them.

"So what are your interests? What do you want to do?" Wearing a fake smile, Mafuyu gazed towards you, who was silently gazing at the mall, a bit overwhelmed.

"..." No response from you.

Mafuyu scratched her cheek a bit awkwardly. "You're overwhelmed?... You don't go outside often?"

You suddenly frowned. "You're bad at lying."

"Huh?" Surprised, Mafuyu tilted her head, she started sweating a bit. "Wh-what?"

"You're bad at lying."

"... I... What do you mean..?"

"You're bad at lying."

"I heard you the third time."

"Yes, literally what I mean, what are you hiding? I'd rather have someone say their true feelings, rather than mask a fake smile... and talk to me with fake positivity."

"... I found you."

Mafuyu's eyes widened and she suddenly felt tears welling up on her eyes. You found her? Found... her?

"At least now, your game of hide and seek is over, Mafuyu."

Mafuyu didn't know, how relieving it was for someone to notice, for someone to find her, despite her continuous descend to madness.

"..." That smile, that smile you have right now, Mafuyu could only stare in shock and silence. Fuzzy, she feels so... happy right now.

"You can tell me everything... But if you can't then..." You finally reached for her head and started patting her. "I'll always wait."

... Mafuyu slammed her head on to your chest, and let her tears stain your clothes, causing you to sigh but still have that warm smile.

[jiminrings]

c*ntroversial fics (the series) sneak peeks :-)

at your will — wherein jungkook swore to leave his pornstar life behind, atleast until he does a video behind your back.

Your chest swells with pride knowing that Jungkook is wanted by many, but he doesn’t want anyone but you.

To have him in the first place, much more as your first boyfriend, had already been a shot in the dark. He was a mutual friend of a mutual friend who loitered in your flower shop, just because he didn’t have an umbrella whilst it was pouring outside and didn’t want to fight with one of nature’s worst forces (a cold).

He wants stability and you want it as well, even if it’s from him; most especially if it’s from him.

Jungkook’s too much of an unorthodox, out-of-your-league guy — and yet you’re perfect for each other.

At the end of the day, however, you can’t reverse the fact that Jungkook’s much more experienced than you.

No matter how many nights you share with your first boyfriend, you can’t negate how many people he’s seen even if he sleeps with his head buried to your neck. You can’t just simply ignore the fact that you can’t tell how many times he made everyone else cum before you, even if it’s in a set or through a screen by simply watching him do his job.

In days like these wherein Jungkook’s shirtless as he makes you your breakfast or fixes something in your bathroom, you can��t help but think if it’s been a plot line to his adult films before. 

When he coos to your face and giggles at your silent confusion about how things work, you’re harshly reminded of the fact that you and Jungkook aren’t on the same calibre. You’re not on the same podium, you’re not verified with the same check mark, and you’re not used to the same bright lighting that highlights nothing but your pleasure — maybe even the sweet, occasional pain that Jungkook seeks.

No matter which way you look at it, you can’t deny how knowledgeable he is about pleasure and being the embodiment of it. You can’t ignore the number of condoms he has on hand, nor the array of toys he has, nor the natural ease he has to himself whenever you’re intimate. 

You can’t skirt around the fact that you feel out of place underneath Jungkook, or in whatever position he puts you in.

“My sweet doll,” he’d call you endearingly when you’re spacing out as you do the work you take home with you, and instead of being gratified by the pet name like usual, your stomach churns at the unspoken bother — how many other people has he called that?

“You okay, baby?” he’d ask you whenever there’s a frown or a furrowed appearance of brows on your face. The question had been your saving grace for the longest time since you got together, but when Jungkook asks you now, you only grow irritated — how many times has he whispered that to the ears of those who’d been under him before?

Jungkook’s yours, even if there had been many before you — even if there’ll probably be more after you.

“Going somewhere?” you ask sharply, the tone of your voice going unnoticed by Jungkook because he chalks up the edge to it to your workload.

“Mhm! Just meeting my old friends,” he chirps, dashing down the stairs in a frenzy.

Jungkook looks good. Clean. He’s pristine with the way he’s freshly-lathered and shaved, doused in perfume that’ll practically lure everyone close to him.

“Oh,” you swallow the lump in your throat, refusing to breathe Jungkook in even if he kisses your temple. “Old friends?”

There’s a knot that forms behind your eyes and you fear that if you let Jungkook closer to you at the moment, your vision would turn white; that your eyesight would see past him and instead focus on the packaging of that one coveted brand’s pheromone perfume in the trash, or the box of ribbed condoms that you hate in his side of the bathroom dresser, or the way how Jungkook’s old work phone vibrates on his dresser.

“Don’t worry your pretty little head too much,” Jungkook mutters to your hair, a snort coming out past his lips belatedly when he mistakes your silence for embarrassment.

You can’t deny any longer that Jungkook’s more experienced than you in practically everything; in sex, in love, and in life — maybe even in lying.

.

.

.

fine print — wherein namjoon's always made it know that he hates being in an arranged marriage with you. alternatively, you date namjoon's friend because it wouldn't hurt him anyway — you think.

Namjoon misses a lot of things.

He doesn’t notice your new haircut even if you took off five inches and lightened it. He doesn’t even react when you invade his personal space and purposely create situations wherein you have to shove your scalp in his face (read: there are actually none), only huffing and asking you what got into you that day.

Your husband doesn’t notice either when you water down his favorite expensive perfumes and he’ll be forced to smell like what he paid for, for exactly two minutes before he ends up smelling like tap water. He doesn’t even acknowledge you when you make a show of sniffing him and asking him if he forgot to put perfume on today, before incessantly offering to spray him with your own.

Namjoon doesn’t even notice the tiny things you do to annoy him — to get a reaction out of him because no matter what you do, you feel as if you’re insignificant to him as you were before you got married. He’s a brick wall with an electrical fence placed in the middle of the most mundane ocean to exist, and you’re merely a castaway who’s hoping to reach him.

He’s infuriating. He’s annoyingly calm to the point of nonchalance, the complete opposite of what you are. You care too much, even for an arranged wife, and Namjoon cares car too less, even for an arranged husband because the bar is extremely low.

“I put salt in your coffee instead of sugar,” you hum, toying with the new bracelet you paid for using Namjoon’s card (you didn’t even like it, you just bought it because it was expensive and you wanted him to notice you; he didn’t) as you watch him eat the breakfast that the cook made, the pancakes you made only sitting cold on the side.

“Did you now?” Namjoon grunts disinterestedly, shrugging with ease. “Didn’t drink the cup you made anyway.”

Namjoon’s infuriating — he’s far too infuriating, it actually molds all of your anger for him into helplessness. 

Your husband’s a busy man who only tends to is family’s airline and nothing more. He won’t give you the time of day, he won’t touch you, and he won’t even grace (or annoy) you with his presence for whatever it is that you ask of him. You do ask for him and in fact, seek him out almost all of the time; the only problem is that he doesn’t want to come to you.

You may have Namjoon’s family name but you don’t have him at all. You have only crumbs of him (far smaller and scattered than the ones you intentionally put on his bedsheets) and you’re a beggar he won’t look at twice. You’re a name on his ledger that only boosts him for everyone else but drags him at home because he wants nothing to do with you.

You’re fed up. You’re exhausted to the point of almost no return that if you’re a lowly fish in the ocean, you’d rather sink to the bottom than be carried away by the current that Namjoon leaves you in.

Namjoon misses a lot of things, but oddly enough, he doesn’t miss the way you haven’t tried talking to him tonight.

He doesn’t miss the way you’re dressed up all pretty, even if he has no plans with you.

“Where are you going?” he raises a brow, looking up from his phone. 

He looks a little confused, maybe even worried, when you don’t spare him a glance as he repeats your name thickly into the air.

“Out.”

“By yourself?” he clarifies, shaking his head when you don’t reply. Namjoon unanimously pulls himself up from the couch, tucking his phone into his pocket as he internally combs through his closet for an outfit to save some time. “To where? Ugh. Give me ten minutes, I’ll just-…”

Namjoon thought this was your direct, no-frills invitation for him to go out with you tonight, but with the way you grit your teeth and stop in your tracks coldly instead of skipping in joy (typically following him into the closet like you’ve done numerous times before with this approach), he realizes that its not the case at all.

“I’m not going out alone.”

“Then who are you with?” Namjoon counters, the edge that accompanies his voice being unknown to you. He sounds wary — perhaps even jealous if you hadn’t gotten it through your thick skull that he doesn’t want you the way you want him

You remain silent at the question, not because you’re nervous, but because you don’t want him to know at all.

You don’t want Namjoon to know that his friend asked you out on a date.

The ache in your jaw from clenching it loosens when you finally break eye contact, the whiff he gets of your perfume, instead of his own that he knows you use, irking him when you turn your back on him.

“Don’t wait up.”

.

.

.

was it casual? — wherein jin's a gentleman and you're his one and only girlfriend, except everyone else gets the same treament you do.

Jin helps those in need.

He carries your bag for you wherever you go, even if you don’t ask him to. Your boyfriend has no problem whether he’s carrying the well-loved, brown leather bag you use almost on a daily basis, or the occasional backpack that has too many keychains on it and jingles loudly at every step, or even if it’s the embarrassing grocery bag you use when you’re in a hurry to do an errand.

He doesn’t give you any problem when you ask him where to eat because he has an answer every time (different ones too at that) instead of a default wherever that you’d give him. Jin doesn’t give you any flak either when you look at his plate longingly after you suffer the consequences of being adventurous and ordering something unlike your usuals, instead exchanging your meals without so much of a complaint.

Jin’s caring for the needy and there’s no doubting it. He kissed you silly right after you gashed your knee in the middle of a crowded field that one time, and he willingly missed the start of the fireworks show just to crouch down and tie your shoelaces for you that one night.

You’re in need of him. You’re the needy. You’re the girlfriend who knows full-on about what friends and strangers alike say about you and Jin and how he’s simply just too good to be true, too good to be with you, and you agree with them everytime.

You’re in need of Jin and you’re the needy — yet you’re not the only one.

“You’re not sleeping in?” you mutter in confusion, propping yourself up with a pillow as you try to remember if you should be doing the same and just happened to forget that you had to go out with him today.

“Sorry, baby,” Jin breathlessly apologizes for interrupting your sleep, the whiff of perfume that you get from his neck when he leans down to kiss you being proof that he’s indeed going out, alone. “A friend needs me. She needs someone to the heavy lifting for her because she’s moving out,”

“Does she not have the money for movers?” you blurt out with a frown, your inability at the moment to filter your words only being highlighted by the fact that Jin doesn’t seem to be perturbed at all to be doing all of this, for a friend, at 6 in the morning.

“Tone,” he lightly scolds you, rolling his eyes playfully as he lends you a few seconds by running his hand through your hair, all before he has to leave and be unavailable for the whole day. “Yerim does have the money, but she also has friends.”

Your brows furrow at the mention of his friend, one that you’ve heard many times before, and one who happens to just need your boyfriend’s help all the time.

“Oh, is Hoseok coming too?” you ask, trying to reach for a branch that you hope would divert you from diving further into your worries. Surely enough, Yerim (who seems to be unable to do anything by herself at any point in her life) has also enlisted the help of Hoseok, your mutual friend, because heavy lifting is involved and Jin needs another pair of hands — right?

You happen to be wrong though, as always, as long as it’s in the name of Jin’s chivalry or whatever it is that’s much, much stronger and volatile than being a gentleman.

“Nope. Just me.”

“Just you?” you clarify, nodding slowly. “Yerim, a promoter in the city, only has you for a friend?”

.

.

.

two more c*ntroversial fics for august + more!!

.

.

.

.

hee-hee welcome to another series!!! this takes me back to my 2017 clichés n i will forever remain nostalgic :-) to get ahead of questions, i fear that this series would only be exclusive for patreon citizens!!! dgm wrong i'm not closing the door forever on Not Ever posting a fic or two from this series (maybe as a holiday gift from me or something!!), but as of now n for the foreseeable future, i'll only limit it to patreon :O it just happens that the target audience for my c*ntroversial (?) fics, i think andddd i've also observed, are not suited for the majority of my tumblr base!!! my writings on tumblr tend to always have redemption towards the end + palatable comfort paired with hurt themes, but as for this series..... yea u get what i mean 🫂💗

anywayyyy if u want to read these pieces now + a lot more exclusive pieces + gain early access to general fics (aka fics that are available for both tumblr and patreon citizens), head over to my patreon!

p.s. u can also sign up as a free member on patreon to get the occasional free short fic/sneak peek, but pls take into mind that they r only put up for a limited time!!! :D

[trekscribbles]

Failsafe: Chapter Four

...I came across the John Rogers line "Eliot's job is to be the failsafe that never fails". And I couldn't help thinking... What happens if the failsafe does fail?

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

(Disclaimer: This is a relatively rough draft and subject to change when I post to AO3.)

Parker’s plan was simple.

1. Get everyone out of the hospital.

2. Cause a distraction.

3. Rescue Eliot.

Step one wasn’t hard. It was a small hospital—too small to have attracted the talents of the overqualified Dr. Grossman, really, and that should have been more of a red flag. They hadn’t even performed surgeries before Grossman started there 2 years before. The morgue had been a new addition, too, built with money Grossman donated. Maybe that was what had kept the community from turning on him when his patients started dying. Maybe they just hadn’t connected the dots yet.

Regardless, the hospital was small enough to close in the evening, and based on the schedule posted by the security room door, it didn’t even have guards overnight. That was probably Grossman’s doing, too.

Parker’s dislike for the man increased with every passing moment.

The security guard met her in the lobby as Carmen was gathering her things to leave, and Parker faked a smile as he escorted them both out of the building and told them that the parking lot was clear of whatever trouble had been going on before. Carmen waved good night, reminded Parker to give her the details of her date the next morning, and left, and Parker circled the grounds and waited for the security guard to lock up. Hardison would be hiding in the safety of the janitor’s closet, and the guard should be finishing up in just a few...

The front door opened, and Parker watched as he whistled his way out to his car, started it, and left.

Then she jogged back to the door and picked the lock before slipping inside.

Hardison met her in the lobby. “Ready?” he asked in a hushed voice.

Parker gestured toward his ear, but he shook his head. “It’s in my pocket. I just checked in with Nate—he’s still 15 minutes out.”

“Eliot may not have that long,” Parker said.

Hardison nodded. “I know. We can’t wait.”

Relief prickled through her. She’d been willing to act on her own, but she was glad she didn’t have to.

“I should be able to cut the power from the basement,” Hardison went on. “I found the building schematics in the security room. But the power panel’s on the opposite end of the building from the morgue, so we’ll have to find our way in the dark.”

“Not a problem,” Parker said. She took off at a jog, and Hardison followed without a word.

There were no men on this side of the basement—they’d checked on the cameras—but they were silent as they descended the stairs and made their way slowly over the concrete floor. Exposed pipes and ductwork lined the ceiling, and the air felt damp and cold against Parker’s face. The fuse box was on the only finished wall, tucked between two sections of drywall like the treasure at the end of one of Hardison’s video game levels. Parker stepped aside to let Hardison at it, and in seconds, he had the door open and his finger poised above a breaker.

“Our comms won’t work here,” Hardison reminded her in a whisper. “Something’s interfering with the signal.”

“We’ll contact Nate as soon as we have Eliot.”

“All right. Ready?”

She nodded.

The lights went out.

Parker wasn’t afraid of the dark. She’d spent too much time in the shadows to feel afraid, exactly, but in the chill of the basement, with a maze of boiler and storage rooms between them and the morgue and at least 7 probably armed men to contend with, Parker felt her heart rate speed up as she waited for her eyes to adjust.

But Eliot needed help, and she wasn’t going to let him down.

Parker led the way through the darkness by the distant orange glow of an exit sign. She had seen enough from the security cameras to create a map in her mind, and she ran her hand along the wall to count the doors, her footsteps silent. Hardison moved so close behind her that she could feel his breath on her neck.

They passed the last storage room and crept through the exit sign’s flickering light at the base of the second staircase, then plunged back into darkness on the other side. The morgue was close now. Parker set her hand on the heavy metal flashlight on her belt, both of which she’d taken from the security room, and strained her ears for the sound of voices.

Everything was quiet.

She paused. They were close now, and should have been able to hear something, unless the men who’d taken Eliot had guessed that this was a rescue.

If they had, they would be waiting.

Her fingers skipped over a doorframe, and she held out her hand to find the handle, to rip it open and surprise the men inside—but it was already open. She reached back to keep Hardison in the hall and inched forward on her own, her eyes wide to catch any glimmer of light inside.

Nothing. There was no movement, no sound.

No Eliot.

“He’s not here,” she whispered.

Hardison pressed against her. “They moved him?”

“Maybe they panicked when the lights went out.”

His voice was faint with anxiety. “Then we have to get back upstairs.”

She backed out of the room and took his hand to make sure he followed her, but he stopped short. “Parker,” he breathed. “There’s something...”

She saw it. A darker smudge of black on the floor ahead of them, blocking their path. Parker crept closer and kneeled to reach out with tentative fingers.

It was a body.

She ran her hand along the fallen man’s arm, trying to recognize the clothing by touch alone. A jacket. Eliot was still wearing scrubs from his role as Dr. Baker. This wasn’t him.

“Come on,” she whispered. “We’re almost—”

A choking sound cut her off. She stood, spinning to face Hardison, who had jerked away from her with a strangled cry. His feet scuffed against the floor, and he flailed—she couldn’t see him, but she heard the struggle. She cried out and lunged for him, and her nails raked down the bare arm across Hardison’s throat.

The man behind Hardison struck out with one hand, hitting her in the shoulder with an open palm and forcing her back a step as he twisted to pull Hardison to the ground. Parker staggered, tore the flashlight free of her belt, and scrabbled for the switch.

A white beam cut through the darkness. The man who’d attacked them grunted and ducked his head, and Hardison slumped out of his grasp, his eyes closed, his body limp.

He didn’t get up.

The man was breathing hard, crouched on one knee over’s Hardison body, and Parker couldn’t move. He tossed his hair out of his bloody face and rose to face her, his fists clenched at his sides, his eyes slitted against the light.

Parker swallowed a sob.

“Eliot?”

[inkmonster21]

Wildflowers in the Wind

Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader

Series Masterlist

8. Sometime is Now

The gang had been situated at the Thompson Ranch for quite some time now, weeks to be more specific. The routine has settled, each member falling into their respective tasks, carrying out the same duties day in and day out. Your father, Henry, had been in his element the last few weeks. The extra hands, especially ones with some actual skill, had been a godsend. The horses and livestock were well taken care of, the ranch was in tip-top shape.

The sky was streaked in a brilliant blend of pinks and oranges as the sun began to set. It was a beautiful sunset that always seemed to follow you.

You made your way over to where your family and the gang were settled in, your movements sluggish from the long day of work. The sun was setting, bathing everything in a warm glow, the fire crackled and snapped.

The gang was sprawled out comfortably, enjoying the ambiance of the glowing fire and the pleasant weather. Your family and the gang members were talking, laughing, and passing around bottles from a local shrine.

As you approached, you could see your father laughing heartily, his arm thrown around your mother, a content smile on his face. It was a rare sight to see your father so relaxed, usually, he was running on pure adrenaline.

"There she is," he exclaimed, noticing you standing there. "Come join us, sweetheart." Your mother pats the seat next to her affectionately. You smiled warmly and took the seat next to your mother, your body sinking into the soft ground with a weary sigh.

Your mother chuckled, her eyes soft with affection. "Tired, dear?" she inquired, her hand reaching out to pat your knee. You nodded a weary smile on your face. "Very," you admitted, the day's labor catching up to you. The crackling fire and the sounds of the gang's laughter were oddly soothing.

You scanned the area, searching for Arthur amidst the gang members, hoping to catch a glimpse of him. Dutch’s voice cut through your thoughts, answering your unspoken question. "He’s out hunting," he said with a smirk, clearly having caught your subtle search for Arthur.

You blushed, embarrassed that you had been that obvious in your search for Arthur. "Oh," you murmured, trying to brush it off as nonchalantly as possible. Dutch chuckled at your obvious discomfort, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "Don't worry, darlin'," he teased, "he should be back soon." You rolled your eyes, though a small part of you was relieved by his words. It seemed silly to be so concerned about Arthur’s whereabouts, but you couldn’t help the flicker of worry that nagged at your mind.

Will gave you a small nudge, a playful glint in his eye as he silently passed the jar of shine. The jar was nearly half empty, and the liquid within glimmered in the light of the fire. You took the offered jar, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips. As you took a small sip, the familiar fiery burn of the shine hit your palate, and its potency instantly soothed your nerves.

Will was always finding a way to get alcohol into your system. It had become a subtle running joke, a small rebellion he got away with, without you getting in trouble. Taking another sip of the homemade shine, you winced slightly at its strength, but the pleasant warmth it spread through your body was welcome. The sound of the crickets in the distance mixed with the laughter of the gang, creating a calm ambiance around the crackling fire.

The sound of a guitar cut through the night air and your thoughts. You turned to look at the source, finding Javier plucking at the strings, his fingers dancing effortlessly over them. The soft melody filled the environment with a soothing atmosphere. You were startled from your peaceful thoughts as Javier looked in your direction, his smile warm and inviting. He nodded towards the guitar, "Care to sing for us tonight, Miss?" he asked, his eyes expectant, waiting for your response.

The entire party grew silent around you, their gazes fixed on you. A mix of excitement and anticipation was present on their faces. It was clear that they wanted you to sing. You took a deep breath, the familiar anxiety of being put on the spot creeping up. “If y’all insist,” You gave a reluctant nod, not wanting to disappoint them. Everyone immediately cheered as you agreed, a chorus of encouraging words filling your ears. "Yee-haw," Uncle hollered out, his drunken tone filled with excitement.

As Javier passed the guitar to you, its weight felt heavy in your hands. You looked down at it, feeling the cold, smooth wood against your fingers, the strings vibrating softly in anticipation. You let the instrument rest upon your lap, contemplating what song to sing. Your nerves were beginning to make your mind grow blank, and the eyes of everyone around you bore into you. “Play Bessie’s song,” Hosea spoke softly. You met his sad eyes, a small smile ghosting his face. You nodded at him with a sad smile, “I love that song.”

With a deep breath, you began to gently strum the chords on the guitar, a quiet, yet soothing tune filling the air. Your fingers moved delicately across the strings. The soft, melodic notes of the guitar blended effortlessly with your voice as you sang the first lines. "Everybody loves somebody sometime, everybody falls in love somehow," the words slipped softly from your lips, your voice carrying the emotion behind them. With every note, the night seemed to grow hushed, and everyone in the group was entranced by your performance.

"Something in your kiss just told me, my sometime is now," you sang, your words a confession within the song. The notes blended with the night's breeze, floating through the air around you. There was a vulnerability in your voice, a hint of longing that echoed through the words.

As your fingers continued to gently strum the guitar, the words flowed from your lips with a mix of tenderness and hope. "Everybody finds somebody someplace, there's no telling where love may appear," you sang, your voice almost a whisper, yet carrying the weight of emotion. The melody filled the air, each note resonating with the truth of those words.

"Something in my heart keeps saying, my someplace is here," you continued, your voice quivering ever so slightly with the intensity of the lyrics. The gang was quiet, lost in the moment, the sound of the crickets and the crackling fire adding an almost surreal ambiance to the atmosphere.

As Arthur rode closer to camp, the sound of your angelic voice floated through the air, like a soothing melody in the night. His eyes widened in surprise, his heart thumping in his chest. Never had he heard anything so beautiful before. It was if you singing was the only thing in the world at that moment. He silently dismounted and cautiously made his way towards the campfire. He was careful not to be noticed, not wanting to disturb your performance. The sound of your voice drew him in like a moth to a flame. He slowly walked closer, staying in the shadows, his eyes locked upon you as you continued to sing.

Your eyes lifted to the shadows, and you caught sight of Arthur standing there, his figure illuminated by the dancing flames of the fire. A mix of surprise and something else crossed your face for a split second before you played it casually. Your singing continued, your gaze returning to the fire in front of you, pretending like you hadn't noticed him lurking in the shadows.

As the song reached its final verse, your voice echoed through the night. The last lines lingered in the air, the gentle strumming of the guitar adding a beautiful softness to the melody. "Everybody loves somebody sometime, and although my dream was overdue, your love made it well worth waiting, for someone like you." The words hung in the air, carrying a weight of contentment along with them. The others around the fire began to clap, a chorus of appreciation and approval filling the night air. The sounds of their applause and words of appreciation echoed through the night, but it was the way Arthur looked at you that drew all your attention. He stood there, his gaze fixed on you, a mixture of admiration and something deeper in his eyes.

Your heart skipped a beat as your gaze met his. Here you were, singing in front of all these people, but it was his reaction that made your heart flutter. That intense blue gaze made you shiver in a way no one else did; In a way Tate never did. The connection between you and Arthur was undeniable, yet silent. You could feel it, an undercurrent of something strong, something primal brewing. He stood a few yards away, still in the shadows, just gazing at you with those eyes.

"That was beautiful,” Dutch said, his voice booming out into the night, “We’ve got ourselves a songbird, boys!” You smiled shyly in acknowledgment, a bashful look on your face as your gaze fell to your lap. You couldn't help but smile, feeling a deep sense of contentment. This life, the gang, all of it somehow felt right. The connection you'd made, the bonds you'd forged, all felt like pieces coming together to form a beautiful, and strange, family of your own.

[iamthedamndonutdrawcat]

saintcurse hcs ?????????????????

oooh fuxk i forgot to answer when u first asked lmaoo saintcurse is pandora x mary, right?

i think what's most remarkable about this ship is that it happens at all, since my idea of pandora is true whacko and mary is the teenage girl. their dynamic could be very much regine george (mary) x janis (pandora) from mean girls

so mary is always very weirded out by pandora bc pandora is either eerily quiet or on a complete manic episode, staring people down evil-style and silently throwing curses or using accidental magic when she's socially overwhelmed (f.e. in a loud class). also younger mary thinks pandora looks scary (shes albino) but gradually grows out of her bully phase. pandora could easily hold a grudge against mary for whispering about her when they were younger but she does Not because she doesn't want to worry too much about such insignificant worldly matters

mary matures and starts volunteering (in hogwarts context maybe in the green houses. she gets on w prof sprout who gives her secrets about certain magical flowers and plants that smell nicely and can be used to highten one's attractiveness or smth) and oh fuck pandora is also there and using the job as a way to research for her experiments & rituals. soon mary can't be bothered to avoid pandora and they start chatting or working quietly together and it's very nice.

mary is pleasently surprised because she associated pandora with her weird deatheater brother & his friends. when she tries to ask about them, pandora avoids the topic but it's clear she doesn't hold mary's muggle heritage against her and doesn't seem too interested in blood supremacist ideology. sadly, mary can't even squeeze some funny gossip about evan & co out if pandora. doesn't even matter though, pandora's nice voice captures mary completely and she loves to listen to sny tiny tidbit offered to her and sometimes pandora says so outlandishly strange things mary can only smile & shake her head in wonder

pandora is also surprised! she hadn't expected pretty preppy mary to turn up at the greenhouses & get her hands dirty & mary isn't even incompetent at gardening! more importantly, mary isn't as much of a superficial bitch as pandora thought she was. she never really cared about mary too much, maybe envied her for her easy popularity & charme, for her many friends, aquaintances, boyfriends... pandora has always struggled with making friends and putting in the effort. she'd always prioritised her own needs & wishes & would rather sit alone in peace than with someone she has to think about what to say to. turns out, talking to mary isn't hard at all! mary carries conversation so easily and senses when pandora is at a loss for words and gives prompts and asks nice questions...

after weeks of late afternoons and weekend mornings spent in the desolate greenhouse, mary and pandora are each silently excited to see the other! one day mary jokingly suggests smoking something after their shift and surprisingly pandora accepts! (mary was unsure if quiet slytherin pandora would smoke with her, even though pandoras vibe should have given her strong stoner signals) so in the midday sun they hide in a forgotten crook behind a greenhouse where only sunlight but never lost students reach and share a joint and their fingers keep touching when they hand it back over for another drag and suddenly there's tension around them, so thick mary can hardly breathe anymore while pandora stares right at her. and behind milky glass panels and surrounded by spring bird chirping, they're suddenly kissing

they keep it secret and probably never truly discuss whatever it is they foster there between flowers plants but when pandora returns to the slytherin common room with a flower in her dreads she hasn't noticed mary and lacing there and when mary gets super excited about doing a class project with strange pandora, evan & lily & marlene start picking up on it.

if it ends, it's because they each go silent during summer holidays and mary is too embarrassed to return to her greenhouse job afterwards. she had promised pandora to write and hadn't delivered on her promise & in turn pandora had also been too uncertain to write first. they drift apart and mary still longingly thinks back to her secret girl love, basking in may sun and privacy and independence from each their social circles.

[shadyfestivalperfection]

Love, Lies And Loki~12

Summery: Loki proposes to Y/n on their anniversary.

Characters: Loki x girlfriend!reader

Note: All characters except Loki are mine!

||Master List||

13. Union Of Realms And Heart (P-2 Of Four Years Of Forever )

💍Four Years Of Forever 💍

The sky was soaked in hues of violet and rose, the last embers of the sunset flickering across the horizon. A soft breeze teased the edge of the lake, rustling the tall grass as evening stretched its arms across the forest clearing. The tiny log cabin tucked in between the trees stood like a well-kept secret — charming, warm, and silent — save for the soft music drifting from its windows.

Inside, Y/N twirled around the open living room, barefoot, holding a glass of wine, a peaceful smile on her face. The fire crackled, its glow casting warm shadows over the floorboards, and fairy lights Loki had conjured — small floating stars — danced gently near the ceiling.

She turned toward the kitchen, voice light, “You’re being suspiciously quiet, Mischief King. Plotting something?”

Loki chuckled from behind the stove where he stood in a black shirt rolled up at the sleeves, stirring something fragrant. “Plotting? Me? Darling, I am but a humble chef this evening.”

Y/N leaned on the counter, eyes twinkling. “You haven’t cooked in weeks.”

“I’m celebrating.”

“Celebrating what?”

He tilted his head, his expression unreadable — but his eyes, sea-glass green and filled with affection, gave him away. “Us.”

That made her chest warm. “Four years,” she whispered.

“Four years,” he repeated softly. “Of tolerating your terribly mortal jokes, your strange addiction to tea, and your insistence on sleeping diagonally on the bed.”

“Oh please,” she scoffed, “you love all of that.”

“I do,” he said simply, stirring the sauce. “More than you’ll ever know.”

⸻

Dinner was perfection. Loki had prepared a creamy truffle pasta, paired with warm garlic bread and a sparkling rosé. They ate on the deck under the stars, a floating illusion of constellations swirling overhead — a personal gift from him to her.

Y/N rested her head on his shoulder when she was full, and they sat in silence, watching the sky paint itself anew.

“Remember the first time you took me to Asgard?” she murmured.

Loki smiled against her hair. “You almost punched Thor.”

“He told me mortals were like kittens.”

“You are, sometimes.”

She elbowed him, and he laughed.

“I remember the first time I saw you,” Loki said, his voice suddenly lower. “You were at that café, typing on your laptop, looking like you could murder your to-do list with a glance.”

Y/N chuckled. “I was writing a report on ancient Norse mythology. You walked up and told me it was all wrong.”

“Because it was,” he said smugly. “I lived it.”

“You were so cocky.”

“You were so skeptical.”

“I still am,” she teased, reaching for his hand. “You’re full of mischief and mystery. But… I’ve loved every version of you I’ve seen.”

Loki’s gaze lingered on her, thoughtful. The soft lines of his face were almost solemn now.

“Y/N,” he said, carefully. “I’ve lived thousands of years. I’ve seen realms burn, stars fade, people rise and fall. And yet…” He paused, fingers gently brushing over hers. “None of it compares to what I’ve felt these past four years with you.”

The air shifted. Something tender, fragile. Real.

“You see me — not as a prince or a villain or a god. Just… me. And that is rarer than you know.”

Y/N reached up and cradled his cheek. “I love all of you. Even the parts you try to hide.”

He turned his face slightly, pressing a kiss to her palm.

“I’ve been carrying something with me,” he said softly. Then, he stood. “Come.”

⸻

They walked down to the edge of the lake. The stars reflected off the still water like glass, and the moon hovered like a sentinel. Loki snapped his fingers, and a floating walkway of silver light stretched across the surface.

Y/N’s eyes widened. “Show-off.”

He winked, holding out a hand. “Wouldn’t be me otherwise.”

They walked hand in hand over the glowing path, silence sitting comfortably between them. At the center of the lake, Loki waved his fingers — and a small platform rose from the water, solid and warm, like polished stone. On it sat a low table, two candles, and a familiar leather-bound book.

Y/N blinked. “That’s… my journal?”

“The one you left open on the counter last week,” he said. “I may have peeked.”

“You peeked? Loki!”

“Only at one entry,” he defended quickly, lips twitching. “The one about our third anniversary. You wrote…” He cleared his throat. “‘I could see myself marrying him. God or not, chaos or not. He’s my safe place.’”

Y/N froze, breath catching.

Loki reached into his coat and pulled out a small velvet box.

“I know I’m not easy to love,” he said quietly. “I’ve hurt people. I’ve lied, fought, and fallen. But with you… I’m better. I want to be better. And not just for you — for us.”

He dropped to one knee.

Y/N’s hands flew to her mouth.

“Y/N,” Loki said, his voice steady but laced with emotion, “will you make the next thousand years less unbearable by marrying me?”

She blinked, already crying. “You didn’t even let me put on mascara today, you absolute jerk.”

He grinned. “Is that a yes?”

She tackled him to the ground with a hug, laughing and crying all at once. “Of course it’s a yes!”

The box tumbled open, revealing a ring unlike any other — a sleek band made of stardust-forged metal, with a glowing green gem at its heart. The light pulsed like magic, like something alive.

Loki slid it onto her finger, then leaned in and kissed her — slow, reverent, like it meant something holy.

Because it did.

⸻

Back in the cabin, after hours of kisses, slow dancing, and giggling over how Nyx the cat had pawed at the ring in awe, Y/N lay in bed with Loki’s arm around her.

“I can’t believe you read my journal,” she whispered, half-amused, half-exasperated.

“I was going to propose anyway,” Loki said. “That just… confirmed it.”

Y/N turned to face him. “You were scared.”

“Terrified,” he admitted. “I kept thinking — what if I’m still too broken? What if she deserves better?”

She brushed her nose against his. “You’re not broken, Loki. You’re healing. You’re trying. That’s what matters.”

He kissed her forehead, his hold tightening.

“I promise,” he whispered, “to never give you a reason to doubt that again.”

She smiled. “Then I guess I’ll have to plan a wedding.”

“I’ve already started,” he said smugly. “Thor’s banned from toasts. And we’re not having roses. Too cliché.”

“Gods help me,” she groaned.

“You chose this,” he said proudly. “You chose me.”

And Y/N, nestled in the arms of the God of Mischief, engagement ring glowing softly in the moonlight, could only think one thing:

She’d choose him again — in every lifetime.

The morning after the proposal, Y/N woke up tangled in linen sheets, with Loki’s arm draped possessively over her waist and his face buried in the crook of her neck. The soft rise and fall of his breath against her skin was enough to make her want to stay like that forever.

But the glint of her ring caught the light, and a little spark of joy ignited in her chest all over again.

She smiled, twisting around carefully to face him. “Morning, fiancé.”

Loki stirred, eyes still closed. “Hmm. Say it again.”

She leaned in, brushing her nose against his. “Good morning, my ridiculously attractive, absurdly dramatic fiancé.”

His lips curled up lazily. “Much better.”

⸻

By the time they’d eaten and packed their bags, Y/N had one goal in mind: tell Thor and Brunnhilde. They were some of the few people in Loki’s life who mattered in that deeply tangled, unspoken family way.

Thor had been like a golden retriever of an older brother — loud, proud, and nosy. Brunnhilde was more like that sarcastic, wine-loving aunt you didn’t see often but loved dearly.

And Y/N? She wanted them to be part of the beginning of this next chapter.

Loki, on the other hand, looked like someone was dragging him toward trial by combat.

“They’re going to be insufferable,” he muttered as the bifrost shimmered and brought them into New Asgard.

Y/N took his hand, the wind ruffling her coat. “You mean they’re going to be happy.”

“Loudly.”

She grinned. “That’s the best kind of happy.”

⸻

(New Asgard)

Thor was the first to spot them, striding across the town square with a barrel of mead hoisted over one shoulder. He nearly dropped it when he saw the two of them.

“Brother!” he bellowed. “What a surprise! And Y/N! Did you come to escape Loki’s brooding nonsense and seek real entertainment?”

“Hello to you too, Thor,” Loki muttered with an eye-roll.

But Y/N stepped forward and hugged Thor tightly. “It’s good to see you.”

“Even better now,” Thor said with a hearty grin. “Come, come! We must drink! Celebrate your arrival!”

Loki exchanged a look with her as they followed Thor toward the longhouse.

“You ready for this?” she whispered.

“I’m more nervous than I was proposing,” he deadpanned.

⸻

Inside, Brunnhilde was lounging near the fireplace with her boots on the table and a half-empty bottle of wine beside her. Her braid was undone, and she looked up when the trio entered.

“Well, well,” she drawled. “Look who decided to grace us with their high-and-mighty presence.”

Loki raised an eyebrow. “You’re still drunk from last night, aren’t you?”

“Probably.”

Y/N stepped forward, squeezing Loki’s hand. “Actually… we have some news.”

“Oh gods,” Thor said immediately. “Are you pregnant?”

“What?!” both Loki and Y/N shouted in unison.

Brunnhilde snorted wine out of her nose.

“NO,” Y/N clarified, waving her hands. “Definitely not.”

Loki groaned. “Honestly, what is it with assuming any announcement must involve offspring?”

“I was just guessing!” Thor laughed. “Fine, what is it then?”

Y/N took a deep breath, then held out her left hand.

The green gem shimmered.

Brunnhilde blinked. “Is that what I think it is?”

Loki wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her close. “We’re engaged.”

Thor’s jaw dropped.

Brunnhilde stood, crossing the room in a few strides. “Wait, wait, wait — are you serious?”

“Yes,” Y/N said, beaming.

Brunnhilde looked at Loki. “You? You proposed?”

“I am capable of sentiment,” Loki said, indignant.

Thor, now beaming like the sun, barreled forward and wrapped both of them in a hug so tight Y/N actually squeaked.

“This is WONDERFUL!” he cried. “Brother, finally! You’ve done something that makes sense!”

“Can’t breathe,” Loki muttered.

Brunnhilde leaned against the table, watching them with something almost soft in her expression. “Took you long enough, Mischief.”

Loki looked flustered. “Yes, well. She said yes, didn’t she?”

Y/N slipped her hand into his. “I said yes the moment I fell in love with you.”

Thor raised his glass. “Then let’s drink to it!”

⸻

They sat around a roaring fire in the longhouse’s great hall, plates of food scattered and mead mugs nearly empty.

“So,” Brunnhilde asked, legs stretched across a bench, “when’s the big day?”

“We haven’t picked a date yet,” Y/N said. “But… soon. We don’t want to wait too long.”

“Summer weddings are beautiful,” Thor offered. “Sunlight over the fjords, feasting under the stars, epic dancing…”

“Thor,” Loki interjected dryly, “this isn’t your wedding.”

“But it could be a spectacle!”

Brunnhilde leaned over. “Are we doing Asgardian or Midgardian style?”

Y/N looked to Loki. “Honestly? A mix.”

“I want your traditions in there too,” she said.

Loki softened, his eyes thoughtful. “Then I’ll make sure the ceremony includes a blessing from Frigga’s rites — she would have adored you.”

Thor’s smile faltered briefly at the mention of their mother, but he nodded with

warmth. “She would’ve been proud.”

⸻

The next day, Brunnhilde took Y/N to the town tailor while Loki and Thor sparred outside. Or rather, argued with swords in hand.

“You’re not wearing black for your own wedding, are you?” Thor asked between parries.

Loki sidestepped. “It’s elegant.”

“It’s depressing.”

“It’s classic.”

Y/N, meanwhile, was twirling in front of a mirror in a stunning gown that shimmered between cream and moonlight depending on the angle.

Brunnhilde sipped her flask. “You’re going to make him faint.”

Y/N turned. “You think so?”

“Oh yeah. He’ll pretend to be composed, but his eyes will give him away.”

⸻

Loki and Y/N curled up together under the covers, maps and scraps of paper with guest lists and flower choices spread around them.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she whispered.

Loki turned to her, brushing a strand of hair from her face. “Does it feel too fast?”

“No. It feels… right.”

He kissed her knuckles, right over the ring. “I’m going to marry you, Y/N. No tricks. No illusions.”

She smiled. “And I get to say ‘Loki Laufeyson, my husband.’ That has a nice ring to it.”

“Better than ‘Mischief King’?”

She laughed. “That’s a close second.”

⸻

Wedding Planning Highlights (over the next few days):

• Thor volunteers to give a toast. Loki vetoes it immediately. Thor pouts. Y/N negotiates that Thor can speak after the ceremony, but only if he promises no embarrassing stories. Thor solemnly swears — which means absolutely nothing.

• Brunnhilde helps choose the venue: a seaside cliff with open skies and wildflowers. “It’s chaos-proof,” she tells Loki. “You’ll thank me when the fireworks start.”

• Loki insists on a magical wardrobe change mid-ceremony for dramatic effect. Y/N agrees… on the condition he doesn’t disappear and reappear halfway through.

• They both write their vows separately. Loki locks his away with a spell. Y/N hides hers in her sock drawer. They make a pact not to peek.

⸻

Their last night in New Asgard, the four of them sat around a bonfire.

Y/N looked around the circle — Thor, tipsy and glowing; Brunnhilde, quiet but content; and Loki, her Loki, holding her hand.

“I never imagined this,” she said. “Not in a thousand dreams.”

Loki turned to her. “And yet, here you are.”

Brunnhilde raised her drink. “To love.”

Thor added, “To family.”

Loki looked at Y/N.

“To forever,” he said.

And she believed him.

-to be continued

[savingsallow]

— Distant Star 🌟

Ale's journal entries on March 21st, 1893 (7th year)    　　

ִ ࣪𖤐 ִ ࣪𖤐 ִ ࣪𖤐 ִ ࣪𖤐

word count: 758

— • — • — • —

March 21, 1893

Another Tuesday has slipped into my existence, indistinguishable from the tapestry of days that weave my life here at Hogwarts.

The morning light beckoned me awake and eager to greet the world. I took great care in presenting my best self—each detail curated, a silent testament to my readiness to dazzle.

As twilight yielded to the day, I found solace in the familiar embrace of my studies. In Defense Against the Dark Arts I soared, basking in the approval reflected in Professor Hecat’s eyes, reminiscent of a mother’s pride that warms the heart. Then there's Potions class, once a realm of turmoil, which has been transformed into a pleasant endeavour, all thanks to Ellie. How she brightens even the dullest of lessons! An academic gem, indeed.

Yet, responsibilities as Head Boy called me away, urging me to step into the ever reliable and dependable figure in our house. After the duties were fulfilled, I ventured back to the common room. A familiar haunt now steeped in silence. What was I hoping for? The hour was late, and the castle was wrapped in slumber.

With the evening enveloping me, I donned my pyjamas, yet sleep remained a distant whisper. Instead, I slipped from my dormitory, seeking the flickering warmth of the fireplace—an inviting refuge against the chill of the night.

And here I sit, pen in hand, amidst the soft crackle of embers, savouring the gentle embrace of tea, its steam curling upward like wishes cast into the ether.

Merlin, these British habits grip me tighter each day.

Who would have thought I’d find joy in humble pea soup or dare to enjoy those absurd yet surprisingly comforting meat pies? How Ellie finds pleasure in such fare baffles me, though perhaps it’s her laughter that brings life to the blandness surrounding us.

Ah, Ellie... 

We've spent the last month entwined in this intriguing dance—a delicate balance of companionship that feels both timeless and new. 

Have you ever encountered a soul with whom every moment feels woven from the very fabric of comfort? Like an echo of familiarity laced with the thrill of the unknown?

I often recall our serendipitous meetings in the common room, those enchanting evenings where her hazel eyes spark with mischief at my foolish quips. The gentle curve of her lips as she stifles a laugh, a secret shared between friends, draws me closer, urging my heart to abandon its guarded post.

Not long ago, I witnessed the shadows that hover around her; she is not in the best of spirits. I yearn to be the beacon that guides her through her darkness. A steadfast companion reminding her she is never truly alone.

On those quiet nights when sleep eludes her grasp, I weave tales that cradle her restless mind, watching with awe as she gently drifts into dreams. How peaceful she appears, a vision of serenity that could charm even the stars from the heavens. A delicate beauty with an angelic grace that captivates me.

There’s a simplicity in being with her that feels nothing short of magic.

Oh, what would I sacrifice to linger in her presence a little longer, to unveil the depths of love that she so richly deserves. 

Yet a shadow of doubt weaves through my heart, whispering that this playful camaraderie may be all there is—a fleeting joy, unanchored by something deeper.

What if, in the quiet unfolding of time, my loyalty reveals itself as a gentle echo, fading into the background? 

It stirs a haunting thought, for how could someone as radiant as she ever see worth in someone like me?

The ache of longing cuts deep, a relentless reminder that I might be destined to watch the love I crave bloom just out of reach, leaving me to wonder if my heart will ever know the warmth of her affection.

Only a fool like me would dare to dream of grasping the unreachable. Like a distant star, I ache with the thought that I am destined to orbit her warmth, forever a silent admirer lost in her radiant glow, igniting a yearning within me that feels insatiable.

Yet, there’s a bittersweet solace in the mere existence of her light—a gentle reminder that even the farthest stars can ignite the most profound dreams.

As I linger in the shadows of her brilliance, a solitary wanderer entranced by the flicker of a beauty that is both eternal and elusive, I hold fast to the hope that one day, perhaps, it will no longer be just a dream.

— • — • — • —

MC mentioned: Elizabeth "Ellie" Crawford ( @accio-bagel 🥯 👑✨ )

Ellie is Ale's love interest in his 'canon' lore ❤️‍🔥

For more of Ellie, you can check out her character sheet and my platonic wife's account: @accio-bagel

+++

This journal entry is somewhat inspired by this song recommended to me by my friend, Bagel, while we were brainstorming about their lore.

[additional notes:]

🌠 non-native english speaker here, so teeny tiny grammatical errors may be present.

🌠 not a professional writer ; just writing for fun!✨

🌠 if my style isn't your cup of tea, respectfully skedaddle in peace~

🌠 i hope you enjoyed this reading, and thank you!🫂❤️‍🔥

[cigarettecemetary]

Do I Wanna Know? -Matt Sturniolo Part 4

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

Pairing: Dealer!Matt x Bambi!Reader

Summary: Your friends and boyfriend want to go to a party, you’re not really a party person but they manage to convince you. After you witness something you rush out the room running into none other than Matthew Sturniolo. As time goes on you and Matt start to talk more, forming a very complicated relationship.

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of cheating, drug use, tension, doing things out of guilt

A/N: this part is gonna be better than my last I promise- Enjoy! With love and cigarette smoke, Moxxie<3

Thomas's Pov:

I stared deeply at the message from Paula.

"She's piecing things together Thomas. It's only a matter of time until she ends up finding out about us too."

I cursed under my breath as I took a drag from the blunt placed delicately between my fingers. If Y/N found out about anything between me and Paula it would NOT end well. Sure she seemed like a soft, sweet girl but deep down she's the toughest girl I knew. She'd for sure beat Paula's ass.

I glanced at my watch. My break was almost over. Hopefully Y/N wouldn't be bugging me about this or anything. I had a girl I needed to see tonight. I felt guilty, lying to Y/N about having to do overtime, but I needed to see this girl. She had all the answers to things I needed.

I put out my blunt quickly before heading back inside to finish my shift.

Your Pov:

Paula seemed off since the last thing we said to each other. The rest of the movie was silent aside from the munching of snacks and sipping from drinks. Did she know something I didn't?

I rose as the movie came to a close. "I should get going. I have to prepare dinner for Thomas when he gets home," I turned to Paula.

"Aw okay. Love you Y/N! See you whenever, you know you're always welcome." She smiled.

"Thanks Paula. I'll text you." I waved as I got into my car, driving home. As I arrived, I was greeted with the usual silence. I sighed deeply as I made my way to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

Thomas's Pov:

I got into the uber, panting slightly. I wiped the sweat off my forehead as I gave the driver my address. I sprayed slight cologne to get rid of the scent of sex still lingering on my skin and seeping into my clothes.

I was exhausted. I prayed that either Y/N wasn't home or preparing dinner so I could shower. I glanced out the window as we pulled up. I felt a pang of guilt. I couldn't keep doing this to Y/N, she never did me wrong. Why was I doing this to her?

"Thanks. Here." I said, tossing the driver a wad of cash. I had no idea how much I gave him, but I didn't really care. I quickly noticed Y/n's car in the driveway, cursing silently. As I entered, I smelled food immediately and saw her in the kitchen, cooking. I celebrated in my head.

"Hey babe, I'm gonna go shower before we eat." I hurried up the stairs before she could protest or approach me, getting into the shower.

Your Pov:

I sat in the kitchen, preparing some dumplings to go with the orange chicken and the fried rice that was cooking when Thomas got home.

"Hey babe, I'm gonna go shower before we eat." He said.

I turned to respond but he was already gone. No hug or kiss? I frowned. Usually he would hug or kiss me before doing anything else when he got home. I went to turn back to the food when a familiar aroma hit my senses.

His usual cologne but with a hint of... sex? I started to panic, my mind racing with possibilities.

Was he cheating? With who? No he wouldn't cheat again, not after that night, I made him promise. It's just sweat Y/N, it's fine.

I blocked the thoughts out of my head before turning back to the food. I was just being paranoid like usual. Everything was fine.

I heard his footsteps scurrying downstairs as I prepared the plates.

"Woah Y/N... This smells amazing! You really outdid yourself this time!"

His praise hit my ears like a truck. I couldn't help but smile. He hadn't praised my cooking in a long time.

"Thank you baby. Let's eat."

We ate in silence, but he wasn't on his phone like usual. He seemed to be really indulged in the food I made. It was... nice.

"So... I was thinking. Since I'm off tomorrow, we could go out?" I looked up at Thomas in shock. He usually never asked to go out, or even wanted to with me.

"Oh um... sure! What frat brother's party is it this time?" I asked. Thomas shook his head.

"No not a frat party my love... A date. Just us two." He looked up at me smiling. I felt a blush creep up my cheeks.

"Y-yes I'd love to."

"Perfect, I'll make reservations. Dress nice and pretty okay?" He half-joked, his smile widening. I nodded as I got up to wash the dishes, smiling at the idea of my date, not knowing what events were to unfold.

A/N: this part is def better than my last... and longer. Next part has a heavy drug warning, so be aware of that! I hope you enjoyed<3

[spencersfavouritebookmark]

Check Ups - A.H x Reader

IM SORRY TO THE ANON WHO REQUESTED THIS I LOST YOUR ASK!!!!

This is the “doctor and Aaron flirting and going on a date and getting together”

Thank you for my first ever request!! I loooooved this idea and I hope that I wrote it well enough.

Not proofread!! (Also I kind of messed up so ignore that Jack was canonically three at this point and pretend he’s ten for me)

Content: Hotch and his Doctor have feelings for eachother and go on a few dates (pure fluff)

Word count: 1.3k

Hope you enjoy x

Ever since a fatal explosion involving the FBI, SSA Aaron Hotchner had become a regular patient of yours. It was your job to assess him regularly for the next few months to ensure that he was still safe for duty.

So here you were, stood by the side of the man. His boss, Erin Strauss had warned you in advance that Aaron could be stoic and closed off but from your experience he was far from either.

"I'm seeing some great improvements in your hearing, how have you been feeling about your hearing?" You ask softly, glad to see so much improvement.

"Pardon, sorry i couldn't hear you?" He jokes, his eyes crinkling in the corner as he smiles. Although he was a very friendly man you could see how he could appear cold. His sharp features set a professional president but the minute he smiled his whole demeanour was warm.

"Nice to see you got your humour back Aaron, but I do have the power to take your job away from you so I'm gonna need some honesty." You remind him, doing your best not to laugh, as not to give him any sense of pride.

"God, I love a woman with authority." He chuckles, leaning back in his chair pretending to admire you. Although his gaze was joking something about it had your head reeling. Every appointment with Aaron had you sat in your office giggling like a lovestruck school girl the moment he left.

"Aaron, I think this might be our last appointment." You sigh, pulling a card out from one of your draws and scribbling your number on it. "Call this number if anything gets worse"

As you spoke, Aaron's expression softened, the reality of this being your last appointment sinking in. The thought of not seeing you regularly anymore filled him with an unexpected phone sense of sorrow.

He took the card from you, his fingers grazing yours for a moment longer than necessary. Looking down at the numbers scribbled down and he nodded silently. "I'll remember that."

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

A few painfully normal days go by for both of you, falling into the same old routine as always.

Aaron sat at his desk, twirling a pen between his fingers as he stared at his phone, silently debating whether or not to call you. After several minutes of internal debate, he caved and dialled your number. His heart rate picked up as the phone began to ring, the sound echoing in the quiet room.

When you answered, he paused for a moment, his voice coming out a bit hesitant. "Hi, It's Aaron Hotchner. Sorry for calling out of the blue like this."

You rush over to your planner, secretly elated to hear his voice again, to potentially have another appointment with him. "Don't apologise, what's going on, are you getting those headaches again? Sensitivity to sound? Has your hearing gotten worse?"

Aaron chuckled softly at your questions, a mixture of relief and amusement washing over him. It was heart warming to know that you still cared about his well-being, even though this wasn't an official appointment.

"No, no" he assured you, "I'm not calling because my headaches are back or anything like that. My hearing's still fine." He paused for a moment, his tone growing slightly serious. "There's actually something else I wanted to talk about."

You pause for a second, succumbing to your nerves as he announces this down the line. You'd had the 'I need to talk to you' talk countless times but never from a patient. You just wait silently for him to elaborate.

There was a brief moment of silence as Aaron debated the best way to approach this. He took a deep breath, steeling himself for your reaction.

"Listen" He said, his voice more apprehensive than you had ever heard it. Almost foreign from the confident man you had been treating. "I've been thinking about you lately. Not just as my doctor... And I know it's not appropriate for me to call like this without violating my medical ethics but-"

"Are you free mid day tomorrow? I could really go for some good lunch with a handsome man." You interrupt with a sudden burst of confidence, a giddy smirk playing on your face.

Aaron was taken slightly off guard by your sudden display of confidence, but couldn't help the smile that tugged at the corners of his lips. He chuckled lightly, a hint of surprise in his voice.

"A mid day lunch, huh?" He paused contemplating his schedule for a moment. "Yeah, I'm free." Excitement flickered in his eyes. "Name the time and place, and I'll be there."

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

The next day you enter the café more nervous than you anticipated, taking a seat at a small corner table.

Aaron arrived at the café a few minutes after you in an outfit far more casual than you usually saw him. He usually wore his work suit but seeing him in a t-shirt that he filled perfectly left your cheeks heating up. His eyes scanned the room until he spotted you sitting at the corner table. His heartbeat quickened a notch as he walked over to you, a mix of nervousness and anticipation swirling inside of him.

He offered you a warm smile as he sat down across from you. "Hey," he greeted, his voice a touch gentler than normal "You look beautiful today."

You smile softly, a soft blush spreading across your cheeks as the man takes a seat “thank you, Aaron.” You say, wracking your brain to say something nice about him, but he knows by the way that you look at him that you think the world of him. And to him that means more than words.

He chuckled softly, a warm smile playing on his lips. "You don't have to say anything." He reached across the table, his fingers lightly grazing the back of your hand. "Your eyes speak volumes."

“I knew asking a profiler on a date was a terrible idea.” You joke, although something about him being able to read you so well makes you feel comfortable, seen almost.

“So this is officially a date?” He smirks as he glances over the menu

————————————————————————

The date is successful, as are the next few.

Tonight you’re baby sitting Jack for him. He’s a sweet kid, much nicer than most you meet, and very mature for his age.

“Y’know my dad talks about you a lot.” He says nonchalantly as he builds a Lego wall so his transformers can defend themselves against his nerf gun

“Oh yeah?” You ask calmly, trying not to poke your head in too much.

“It’s nice that he has a girlfriend now.” Jack replies simply, not really knowing the impact of what he’d said.

Of course you and Aaron had gotten very close through your dates but you had never thought that he’d want a relationship with you.

“You think I’m his girlfriend?” You laugh

“Well not yet. But I’m almost certain he wants you to be.”

Unbeknownst to the two of you Aaron had just come into the house and looks into the living room where the two of you sit.

“Jack. That’s enough of exposing me for tonight. Let’s get you to bed.” He says fatherly, he’s so good with Jack.

He glances to you softly “I’ll be downstairs in a minute.”

It feels like an age that he’s up there, you can’t distinguish the words but you can hear soft words being exchanged between father and son. You wait impatiently shuffling on the balls of your feet.

After about fifteen minutes you finally hear his gentle footsteps coming down the stairs.

You stand in the living room nervously chewing your finger nails.

“Hey..” he says softly, finally hanging his jacket up after his long day

“Was Jack right?” You ask quietly.

He nods, confirming every thing you hoped was true. Your heartbeat increases as he nods and you stop chewing your nails, you rush over to him flinging your arms around his neck.

“Is that what you want?” He asks, kissing the top of your head.

“More than anything.” You mumble, burying your face in the crook of his neck.

“I should probably go and tell my little man the good news before he falls asleep.”

[kvthgok]

Don't Forget It | Miguel O'Hara x Young Teen Reader (Platonic)

Warnings- mention of semi toxic parents

Summary- You rant to Miguel about all your family problems since things are tough right now in your household due to your parents getting a divorce.

Side note- surprise surprise its not proofread 🌝 hehe....

I was having a tough time these past months. My parents were getting a divorce. All night I would hear them arguing. I had told Miguel whats been happening . Well more like rambling all my family problems to him. He was a great listener even if it seemed like he wasn’t listening. He was, he cared.

“You know if your parents keep giving you a hard time you can crash at the HQ.” He said glancing at me

I nodded while eating a some food I got from the cafeteria. Crumbs falling out my mouth while talking,” Mhm I know, don’t worry— but I just don’t know why they would wanna get a divorce Miguel? My parents were sooooo IN LOVE with each other ” I rambled

He continued to work looking at the cameras making sure there was no anomaly’s.

Miguel spoke still looking at the cameras, “Sometimes people change, it happens a lot. You really shouldn’t be worried.”

“Your parents will figure it out. For now, what you should be thinking about is school finals. Don’t want you failing those.”

“Yeah yeah but-“

“Y/n, focus on your finals instead. You have some of the toughest finals that the school has to offer. Just worry about those. Okay?” He stopped and looked at her.

“How could I do that when my parents are arguing all the fucking time?” I mumbled rolling my eyes.

Miguel looked at her. “Y/n,” the words were sharp and clear like a warning.He never liked when I cussed.

“Your parents have their reasons, but you, I believe, should use that anger to push harder. And pass those damn finals.”

“Yeah yeah I will it’s whatever.”

“Whatever, Y/n.” He let out a silent sigh and returned to what he was doing before It was silent for a little bit.

Suddenly I spoke out, “They’ve gotten worse you know..” I said in a sad tone. Referring “They’ve” to my parents.

Miguel stopped typing, he knew what she meant. He didn’t want to ask though. But he knew he should say at least something in response.

He cleared his throat then spoke, “Have they?” Miguel knew the situation was bad just not how bad it was.

I nodded looking at the floor.

“Tell me, how bad is it?” Miguel asked with a soft voice. He looked like he really wanted to know.

“They’re starting to throw shit at each other” I raised my eyebrows

Miguel stayed silent for some time before saying, “Jesus, Y/n.” His words came with disbelief and disappointment. Miguel couldn’t believe this was what her parents were doing now. He's actually met my parents before but they seemed like they were in a good relationship.

“At this point I might as well live in the HQ” I chuckled attempting to joke around the situation.

Miguel had noticed that whenever Y/n was uncomfortable, she would try jokes and sarcasm. It was like she didn’t want to come off as weak. Miguel sighed, “Can you do me a favor and not use jokes and sarcasm when you talk to me about something personal? I get that it helps sometimes. But I really want you to open up to me whenever .” Miguel spoke in a calm and soft voice.

"But hey if you do need to stay here we always have some extra beds, and a large couch.” He added

I stayed quiet.

“Not every problem should be joked around.” Miguel paused for a moment and continued to speak.He didn’t want to make it a lesson, but he wanted Y/n to understand what he was trying to say. “Y/n, I know you have it tough at home.” He spoke in a way that sounded more like he was comforting me.

“It’s just—“ I stumbled over my own words not finishing what I was going to say. Instead I put my hand over my face dragging them down.

Miguel watched her silently as you dragged your hands down your face. Miguel had a feeling that I was going to cry, but he didn’t want to be the one to mention it. He continued to just watch me.

He stayed silent, waiting for me to continue or start crying. He really hoped it wasn’t the second option.

I took a deep sigh,” I just hate it there…I wish they’d go back to how they were before-“

“Y/n. Listen to me.” Miguel’s voice stayed calm and firm. “You can’t control your parent’s relationship.” He kept looking at me. He still wanted me to listen to what else he had to say.

Miguel stayed silent for a moment then spoke again. “However, you can control your emotions."

"Your parents can’t control your emotions. You can.” Miguel looked at Y/n, now wanting her to see what he was saying.

"You can try to control how this is affecting you.” Miguel said, still keeping his voice calm but stern.He waited until Y/n was paying full attention, he wanted her to understand his message here. Miguel sighed, Y/n seemed to not understand what he was trying to say.

“Look, sometimes things, things that are out of your control, happen in your life.” Miguel kept his voice soft. “That doesn’t mean you always need to be sad.”

Miguel watched her slowly turn to look at him. He still had a calming tone.

“I want you to do one thing, okay?” Miguel continued to speak. “I want you to find something that makes you happy.” Miguel paused for moment before speaking again. “The next time your parents fight, try to do this thing that makes you happy, and focus on it. Don’t pay any attention to what your parents say.”

“Alright” I said in a soft tone almost sounding like a whisper

“I know it’s hard to ignore your parents and their fighting. But if you try to ignore it, by doing something you enjoy. Time will fly and you won’t even remember why they started to fight in the first place.”

I small smile curved up,“mhm”

Miguel smiled back at her, happy that she was finally taking his advice. “And Y/n , if things get much worse at your house, just remember you can crash here for a while.” He paused once again. I nodded

“And if you ever want to talk some more, just look for me. I’m always willing to listen.” Miguel paused for a moment. “Okay? I need you to say it though…” Miguel looked at her, it was important to Miguel that you got the message.

“Mhm I understand Miggy”

Miguel smiled. The nickname “Miggy” really caught him off guard, you hadn’t called him that in a while “Good.” Miguel spoke again. His tone shifted into a more serious and concerned one. “Just Don’t forget it, alright?” Miguel looked at Y/n.