#bc did you know all dream ever wanted in life was to be called dear heart and my darling. ok that's all

[cuubism]

Zero [complex math verse]

cw for disordered eating eating disorder storylines can be very triggering so please mind this content warning as it applies heavily to the entire fic

---

Hob is almost to his data structures section—running a bit late, as per usual—when he gets a call from Death. He picks up as he’s rushing up the stairs to the Comp Sci building.

“Hey, Hob,” she says before Hob can even tell her that he only has like thirty seconds to talk, actually. She sounds fatigued. “Can you go pick up Dream from the Maths building?”

Hob pins the phone between his shoulder and ear as he tugs open the door. “‘Pick him up’? Is he okay?”

“He asked me to come get him, but I can’t leave this patient right now.” Hob can imagine her leaning against the wall, hand pressed to her forehead. Why didn’t Dream call him?, Hob wonders. He’s usually much more available than Death, at this hour. “I asked if he wanted an ambulance, and he said no, but if you can’t go get him then—”

“Wait, wait.” Hob stops in the middle of the hall, stomach swooping. Someone walking behind him swears as they have to swerve to avoid hitting him, but he ignores it. “An ambulance? I thought you said he was okay.”

But... she hadn’t said that exactly, had she?

“He will be,” Death says, which doesn’t fill Hob with much confidence. But he turns around and heads back for the door, heartbeat picking up with each step.

“I’m going now, I’m not far.” The undergrads are just going to have to cope with not having discussion section today. He doubts they’ll be too unhappy about it.

“Thanks,” says Death, with relief. “Text me when you find him? And you should bring some food, if you have it.”

Oh.

Fuck.

Hob had been afraid something like this would happen. But he can’t exactly force Dream to pick up better habits. Horses and water, and all that.

“Yeah, yeah, I will, thanks,” he says, and walks faster.

Hob is going to be upset with him.

The thought circles Dream’s mind as he sits crumpled on the bench outside the classroom he’d been working in, head on his knees, hands clasped behind his neck. Nothing feels real. Everything is spinning and swaying. He might pass out. He might throw up. He hates throwing up. Hob is going to be upset with him.

It’s exactly what he was trying to avoid by calling his sister instead. Death will be upset with him, too, but she’s chastised him before. Dream is used to it. The same words coming from Hob will be a different matter.

He should have known that she would be busy, and would call Hob. Even if she could come to get him she would likely call Hob after. He should have known. He sits with his head pressed to his knees and waits for the inevitable.

Either Hob was very close by, or more time slips past Dream’s notice than he realizes, but it feels like only a few minutes before he hears Hob’s footsteps coming quickly down the hall. He doesn’t know what it means that he can recognize Hob’s footsteps. Or that Hob had known which classroom to go to. The one Dream always prefers to work in.

“Dream?” Hob crouches in front of him, trying to meet his eyes, but Dream can’t lift his head from his knees. It’s the only thing keeping the world from tipping over on him. Hob lays a hand on his arm. “Hey, love. What’s going on?”

“‘m dizzy,” Dream murmurs, voice small. He hadn’t realized how much his shoulders were shaking until Hob touched him. He thinks that’s distress more than physical shakiness. But Hob’s presence soothes him more than he’d expected. Even if Hob chews him out, he doesn’t want Hob to leave. He wants Hob to hold him. He just wants Hob to hold him.

“Okay.” Hob’s voice is quiet and calm. He brushes Dream’s hair behind his ear, though it’s not long enough for that to do much. “Sit up for me for a sec? I’ll help you.”

Dream is helpless but to follow Hob’s voice. He starts to sit up. His vision is still spinning. Hob wraps an arm around his middle and bodily lifts him up until he’s leaning back against the wall, then sits beside him on the bench, their thighs touching.

He meets Hob’s gaze. Hob is close enough that he doesn’t appear to waver as much as everything in the background. He looks beautiful, he’s a savior, an angel.

Dream’s brain is not working very normally right now. Not that it ever is.

Hob looks more concerned than angry with him. But Dream doesn’t have much time to study his expression before he’s turning to dig in his bag and pull out his water bottle. He uncaps it and hands it to Dream.

“Drink that. At least half of it. Slow.”

He goes back to digging in his bag as Dream sips the water carefully. Hob is very steady, underneath the concern. No panic. Good in a crisis, Hob. That’s interesting.

Hob watches him drink the water, then hands him a package of cheese crackers he’d pulled out of his bag. Despite himself, Dream laughs, weakly, as he takes it. “Do you always have food with you?”

“You’re not the only one who forgets to eat lunch, I just accommodate for it.”

‘Forgetting’ is… not exactly it, Dream thinks as he picks open the package and takes a cracker, eating it slowly. He still feels more nauseous than hungry, but he knows Hob won’t let it be until he eats it.

No, he has witnessed Hob skip a meal when in the throes of some engaging problem, but he always makes up for it later. Or by carrying around snacks, apparently. Whereas with Dream… it is not exactly forgetting.

He eats the crackers one by one, mechanically. Barely tasting them. Fortunately, the food cuts the edge of nausea in his stomach instead of exacerbating it, and he no longer thinks he’s in imminent danger of throwing up. Or passing out. That would certainly upset Hob.

“There you go, love,” Hob soothes him. “That’s better, isn’t it?”

Hob could have gone into the medical field instead if he wanted to, Dream thinks, somewhat deliriously, swallowing his final cheese cracker. His bedside manner is very good.

Or perhaps this is just because it’s Dream.

The thought makes him want to cry, but he doesn’t. He just stays still as the world starts spinning a little less, and Hob takes the water bottle and empty snack package back and shoves them in his bag, then tugs on Dream’s arm.

“Alright, why don’t you lie down.”

“This is a public hallway,” Dream complains, albeit weakly.

Hob sighs in exasperation. “We’ve slept on classroom tables before. Besides, this is a university, everybody’s seen weirder shit in public than this. Lie down.”

Dream acquiesces, and Hob guides him to lie down on the bench, his head on Hob’s lap. It’s pleasant, like that, and the world spins less and less. Hob pets his hair, and Dream closes his eyes.

“Are you going to make me go to A&E?” he murmurs, after a few moments of quiet.

“Depends how you feel in twenty minutes or so.” He sighs, and there’s a shake to it. “But I think you’ll be okay, love. Just give it a moment.”

Dream will be okay, until Hob decides he’s recovered enough to chastise him for his behavior. For now, he just lies there quietly and enjoys the settling feeling of Hob’s hands in his hair.

Hob doesn’t ask him what he did to himself, or why. Perhaps he’s judged Dream too tired or incapacitated to talk about it right now. He just keeps steadying Dream, quietly, his hands ever-moving.

When several minutes have passed, Hob asks, “How are you feeling, darling? Do you want to go home?”

Darling. Hob calls him such sweet things when Dream is nothing but difficult to him. “I would like to go home. Please.”

Hob helps him sit up, bracing an arm around his shoulders. But the room, thankfully, has stopped spinning. He gets Dream to his feet, and Dream doesn’t sway. Hob picks up both his bag and Dream’s from the floor and slips them over his shoulder. He wraps an arm around Dream’s waist. And silently, relieved to be standing again, Dream follows Hob home.

~~

Dream’s flat is closer to campus, so Hob takes him there, gets him settled on the couch and makes tea and pushes a box of biscuits into Dream’s hands, and all this before even telling Dream off for his behavior. Dream is not a child, he knows perfectly well how much sustenance a body needs to sustain it, he knows that it is unwise to go without eating, so why doesn’t Hob tell him so? Chastise him for his foolishness?

Dream sits curled up on the couch. Turning the box of biscuits over and over in his hands, unopened. Finally, Hob sits beside him with his own tea.

“Do you want to talk about it?” he asks.

Dream can’t manage to get himself to open the biscuits. He sets the box in his lap, but picks up his tea as a compromise that will hopefully ease Hob’s worries. It does not work, based on Hob’s expression as he watches him do it. Dream sips his tea anyway. Hob’s put a lot of honey into it. Correctly deducing that Dream hasn’t had enough sugar or anything else today.

Instead of responding, he tears up.

Hob puts both of their mugs back on the coffee table and pulls him into his arms.

Dream presses his face into Hob’s shoulder. Tucks his hands in against the warmth of Hob’s body, pressed between his back and the couch. Crawls halfway into his lap. Hob wraps his arms around him and holds him close. Dream feels like his soul is pattering around and only staying contained by the boundaries created by Hob’s body. He doesn’t know what that feeling is.

Hob strokes his hair, murmurs against the shell of his ear, shh darling, it’s okay. Dream is a pathetic cowering creature soothed by Hob’s touch. That feeling. It’s fear. He’s scared. Scared of himself. That he can lose such control while grasping so tightly for it.

“Thank you,” he finally manages, something he should have said earlier, but means more than he can say, “for coming.”

“You could have called me, you know.” It’s not accusatory, but a little hurt. “It’s okay if you’d rather have Death, just—”

“It is not that. I—” He pulls back to see Hob’s face. Hob wipes the tears from his cheeks. “Death has told me her feelings on the matter before. I was… apprehensive to hear yours.” Death, also, has seen Dream at lower points than this. She can hardly think less of him. The same is not true of Hob.

Hob looks sad to hear this. “My feelings are that I’m concerned. Did you eat anything today?”

“…No.”

“What about yesterday?”

Dream thinks. He must have, surely? “I think so.”

“I can make you stuff, you know,” Hob says. “Whatever you want. I don’t mind.”

This is the last thing Dream wants. For Hob to think this is somehow his fault.

“If you’re forgetting I can just come get you whenever I’m eating,” Hob continues. He’s only growing more distressed at Dream’s silence.

How can Dream tell Hob, who cares so much and wants to help, that he does this on purpose? That he doesn’t forget that he’s hungry, but rather ignores it? Or worse, relishes in it? That he has done so for a long time. That it makes him feel sharper. In control of himself.

That once broken, habits are, it turns out, very hard to pick up again. Even when that habit is eating.

“It is not so simple, I’m afraid,” he says, ducking his head.

“No, I guess it wouldn’t be.” Hob bites his lip, looking away. “Why, then? I want to help you, but I don’t…”

“It makes me feel better,” Dream says. “Until it doesn’t.”

Like today. He pushed too far. But it’s only when he does go too far that the reality of what he’s doing comes back to him. It’s easy to forget, when he is used to it.

Ironically, he knows from experience that it will be easier to eat better in the next few days, now that he’s shocked himself back to reality. It will be easier, until he slips again. He doesn’t know how not to slip.

When he finally looks back up, Hob is already looking at him again. He looks sad. Dream doesn’t want him to be sad.

Hob takes Dream’s jaw in his hand, strokes his thumb over Dream’s lower lip. “You scared me, seeing you like that.”

Dream should probably apologize for his behavior. Instead, all he can do is lean in again to press his forehead against Hob’s. He knows Hob wants to fix it, to offer solutions, but all Dream really wants is his touch. Hob’s touch fixes more for him than anything else.

“I’m gonna stay over,” Hob says, cradling the back of his head. “And we’re going to have dinner.”

It is, in fact, almost dinnertime, Dream realizes. No wonder he felt overcome, after having nothing until now. Hob will insist on him having something, he knows. It still feels… strange. To be having something.

He tucks his face into Hob’s neck. “Very well.”

“Will you eat some of it?” Hob asks, petting his hair again, tugging the short strands between his fingers. Dream thinks it must be soothing to him to do so.

“Yes,” he says. “However. I don’t want you to think that this is your responsibility to fix.” Or that you can. Hob is very very good at taking things apart and fixing problems, but if he digs his hands into this one he is going to get his fingers jammed in the unsteady gears of Dream’s brain. He is only going to get hurt in trying.

“Maybe not,” says Hob, and, like he heard what Dream didn’t say, continues, “but I can feed you one meal so let’s start with that?”

Does Hob understand how much comfort he brings? Can he possibly?

“I love you,” Dream murmurs, almost unintelligible for how close he’s pressed himself to Hob’s body.

Hob kisses his head. “I love you, too, my darling.”

He bundles Dream closer so their limbs are all tangled together. Dream loves that, how he can feel each pressure point where they touch. “Will you tell me more about it? When you feel up to it. The more I get how you feel, the more I can help you.”

As a child, Dream’s favorite number was zero. Some mathematicians would insist zero was not actually a number, but rather the absence of one. That was exactly what Dream liked about it. The nothing defined by the everything around it. Zero was foundational, and yet it was not even properly there at all.

Sometimes Dream felt like zero. The less he ate the more he felt it. It was easier to be nothing than to let the everything in.

“You are insistent upon trying to help me,” Dream says.

“Yup.”

“Because,” Dream realizes, with a hard swallow, “you love me.”

“Exactly. You get it.”

Dream twists their fingers together and squeezes. If Dream is zero, Hob is like infinity, so boundless that he can’t help but let it engulf him.

Perhaps one day Dream will be able to explain it all to him in better words than that.

#definitely NOT inspired by real life. lol #cw eating disorder #complex mathematics #this fic is part of the ongoing Let Dream Get Hugs agenda #hob out here a whole millennial calling dream shit like dear heart and my darling. old school romantic. they were made for each other #bc did you know all dream ever wanted in life was to be called dear heart and my darling. ok that's all #(he also likes being called baby. anyway) #dream of the endless #my writing #dreamling #hob gadling

[kairismess]

❝WE WOULD BUILD OUR OWN FOREVER.❞

🏐 genre: fluff ~ ! ✒️ word count: 624 💭 summary: kenma thinks he's found his forever, and that's with you. he tells you of all the things he's been dreaming of doing together with you in the future, and he hopes that future he dreams of would be one you'd love to live out with him someday. 🍥 author's note: it is now canon that kenma kozume collects sylvanian family cats and names each one of them after his favorite video game characters bc i said so . (also the title is an adventure time song ref TEEHEE ily marceline)

"i want... to live in a cozy cottage with you, well, maybe not exactly a cottage... the inside's like a cottage, just as warm and homely as one, and... i wanna have two cats with you." kenma mumbled out sleepily as he tried to keep his golden eyes open, smiling at you as you smiled at his confession.

kenma wasn't exactly used to commitment, let alone any form of romantic relationships; he had hardly fallen in love, let alone fallen this hard for someone so lovable and spectacular. this relationship with you had only lasted for about four months, soon to be five, but kenma couldn't stop himself from dreaming out his desires; his need to be with you until you both grow old and wrinkly, and love you forever, exactly the way you deserve to be.

you chuckled as you shifted under the covers of your bed, angling your phone's camera so he could still see your pretty face. "what would we name our cats, ken?" "hmm..." kenma hummed, he didn't think too hard on trivial things like that, but these cats, to him, would be like children he'd want to have with you in the future. he wants to be a cat dad, only if you'll be his co-cat parent.

"...link, link and kirby." he declared in a hushed voice, making you giggle. "like the game characters?" "yep... and when we get a home of our own, i'll make sure all three of you will live the most comfortable lives ever, trust me." he promised, his half-lidded eyes about to droop to sleep now. though he toughed it out, he wanted to spend the whole evening with you and make the most of it, even if you were both just seeing each other through tiny phone screens.

kenma yawned before continuing, though when he did yawn, you let out a little gasp of adoration. he looked like a newborn kitten waking up from its nap when he yawned, it was too cute for you to bear. "a-and... i'll get you all the games you want. we could play animal crossing, and make little homes and islands for ourselves, rule the world together... and, and..." his voice was getting slurred and soft, he was on the brink of falling into a deep, peaceful slumber.

you smiled as he tried to fight the urge to sleep, but your voice brought him back to reality as he set two feet into dream land. "ken... i'd love that. but darling, you need to sleep." kenma's eyes opened a little wider at you admitting you shared the same sentiments of love and fondness of that dream kenma had for the two of you, and the two cats he wished to have with you, to parent with you.

he smiled and chuckled, almost as if he were teasing you for being so caring around him. "i wanna fall asleep in your arms, dear..." he mutters, and ultimately, his body gives in to sleep, and before you could even promise him he could sleep in your arms on the train ride to school, he was out cold. he was lightly snoring and a hint of drool drooped down from his open mouth and onto the pillow beneath his head.

"sweet dreams, ken." you whispered to him as you set your phone by your side as you fell asleep with him on call, hoping your beloved would dream nice dreams of you, in a small cottage-like home, the safe space for you two with your two little cat babies, building your forever together with him, even if it's in mere life simulator games. that would be enough, more than enough for you; and kenma couldn't be any happier knowing that.

#kenma kozume #kenma kozume x reader #kenma x reader #kenma x you #kenma x y/n #kenma kozume fluff #kozume kenma #haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu x you #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu scenarios #hq kenma #hq x reader #hq x you #hq x y/n

[bucky-barmes]

♥︎ Destined (To Fail?) ♥︎

[ gif from @topgundaily ]

bradley 'rooster' bradshaw x f!mitchell!reader

in which you get called back to top gun to teach the next detachment. sounds like a dream gig until your two most hated men are there also

chapter one: here we go again

a/n: this is going to be relatively canon to the new film, just with lil tweaks here and there to make it flow smoothly. readers callsign is highness, thought it was pretty clever of me seeing as she's mav's daughter (also it just sounds badass af), reader also has a name as i felt it's just what felt right and flowed well with the story (and totally not just now realising that the first and last name start with the same letter like bradley so let's just pretend i did that on purpose) also i am but a humble australian writing about the us navy so if i got anything incorrect pls either let me know nicely or just deal with it bc i don't even know anything about my own navy let alone another country's

word count: ~3.5k words

contains: this story is gonna be angsty so hold on to your butts, already angsty af from the get go, swearing (are we surprised?), rocky relationship with father(figure), hangman being a flirtatious lil shit, reader being a badass, i think that's about it but pls lmk if i missed anything!!

as always, reblogs/comments/feedback/etc are always always always appreciated and wanted ♥︎ pls i crave external validation

my blog is 18+ only, minors dni

[ all my work is my own and not to be reposted or translated anywhere else ]

You and Bradley Bradshaw were destined for each other. Growing up together, you were inseparable, seeing each other daily. Spending just about every second of the day in each others company.

After everything that happened with Goose, Maverick swore to never leave the family’s side. Even when his own relationship was falling apart. Nothing could come between Mav and protecting that family.

So, ever since Bradley was born, exactly 1 year and 2 months after you, you had been practically joined at the hip, impossible to separate.

It was no surprise to anyone when you announced that you were officially dating in your teenage years. Although your father would say that he was less than impressed with you dating any boy, even Bradley himself. But he had accepted it, only after a thorough talking to from Carole Bradshaw.

There was only one thing that could come between you and your destiny. Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell. And boy did he really get in the way. Really took everything you held dear to yourself and threw it in the dirt, stomping all over it.

~~

“I’m gonna kill him, I swear I’ll fuckin’ kill him!” Bradley stormed through the door, red with rage.

“Brad, what happened?” You were quick to jump up to his side, concern evident in your voice. The paper you eagerly held on to before now an after thought.

“Maverick! He fuckin’ pulled my papers.” There was venom dripping from every word Bradley spoke, anger coursing through his veins. “All of that work, down the drain, everything I’ve done is all for nothing.” He was pacing and throwing his arms in the air, unable to contain the pure rage running through him.

“I’m sure there’s been some sort of misunderstanding, dad would never-”

“No, Mia! You don’t get it, he’s ruined everything, everything I’ve ever worked for!” He was facing you now, yelling, basically spitting his words at you. “You’re his daughter, you’ll never understand, never have to understand. You’re gonna get everything in your life handed to you no questions asked!”

You couldn’t believe his words. Didn’t want to believe his words. They cut deeper than anything anyone had ever said to you.

“You think I have it easy because he’s my father?” You spat back, just as venomous. “I have to work twice as hard as anyone else just to prove that I’m not some nepotism baby. No one’s ever going to appreciate me for my own ability, I’ll only ever be the great Maverick’s daughter!” You threw your hands up in disbelief. Disbelief that he would even think that. Disbelief that you were standing in your kitchen screaming at each other.

“Well I guess we’ll never know.” Bradley chuckled cynically. “If he pulled my papers, there’s no way in hell he’d let you get accepted.” You clenched the paper in your hand harder instinctively, shoving it into his chest.

“That’s why I never told him, I’m not that stupid.” Your eyes narrowed at Bradley as his widened, smoothing out the paper to read.

‘We are pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the Naval Academy in the field of Aviation Welfare’.

Bradley could only stare at you, slack jawed, eyes darting between you and the letter.

“I can’t believe this shit.” He shook his head in disbelief. “This is so fucking bullshit!”

“What the fuck, Bradshaw? I thought we were in this together?”

“Yeah, we were, until your dad pulled my fucking papers.”

“That has nothing to do with me. I didn’t exactly ask for him to be my father. Hell, I would’ve specifically asked not to have him if I could, but I fucking can’t, okay. Are you really going to let this, him, ruin everything?”

“He already has, when he pulled those papers.” You stilled, all emotion draining from you at his words, going numb.

“So this is it? Everything’s over?”

“My life may as well be, thanks to him.”

“Get out of my house.” You had to force yourself not to scream at him, knowing that it wouldn’t help the situation. Bradley said nothing as he stormed out of you kitchen, letting the door slam on his way out.

~~

That was the last time you saw Bradley Bradshaw, your boyfriend, before you left for training.

That was also the last time you referred to Pete Mitchell as your dad. You disowned him as your father and vowed never to forgive him for what he did to Bradley, and subsequently, you. From then on, he was only ever Captain Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell to you.

~

It had been years since you had spoken to either of the two men. Pete had tried to insert himself back into your life, showing up at ceremonies and important events in your life, but you always kept it strictly professional, refusing to acknowledge him as your father.

Bradley, on the other hand, you hadn’t spoken to since the incident back in the kitchen of your family home. You’d never admit it, but you never truly got over him, and you made yourself a promise to never let anyone get close like that again. The two men you should have been able to trust the most destroyed you in a single day. You would never let that happen again.

That’s why you were surprised to receive a call from Admiral Beau ‘Cyclone’ Simpson. You had crossed paths when you attended Top Gun, (like father like daughter right?), but you didn’t think you had made much of an impression on him. You may have kept to yourself, but you also always made your opinion known, even if it was an unpopular one, and definitely put people in their place if they were out of line. But if anyone dared liken you to Maverick you’d have their head for it, as a couple of the men from your Top Gun squadron found out the hard way.

Clearly Cyclone appreciated your skill as well as your personality, because his call was to invite you back to Top Gun to teach the next intake. Something about a mission that was too classified to discuss over the phone.

~

Making your way back to Fightertown had you reminiscing on the ride. You had chosen your trusty Triumph Thruxton to fully enjoy the long journey, packing only your essentials in a large duffel bag secured across your back.

You and Bradley had grown up here. Just about every turn held a memory of the times you spent together.

You didn’t have long to reminisce however, as you were soon pulling into the Top Gun base, back at your old stomping ground. Now, memories came flooding back of your days flying there, coming out top of your squadron. That was potentially the best day of your life, knowing you finally beat Maverick, finally were better than him. That didn’t happen to be the first time you had proved yourself better than him, either.

The briefing for the cause of your return was long and tedious. There was an underground uranium plantation breaking NATO laws that needed to be taken out. You were assigned with teaching the best of Top Gun how to succeed in this, and most importantly, to teach them how to all make it back home. Your main task was to ensure the team became just that, a team. Easier said than done when most of the pilots that graduated top of the class had an ego to match. But you were always up for a challenge.

Seeing as you were now back in your old stomping ground, you thought it was only fitting to visit Penny at the Hard Deck after the briefing, you definitely needed a drink after the news. Maybe you could even scope out some of the class while you were there.

As you stepped through the door of the bar, you were greeted with the familiar buzz of chatter and music from the juke box. It was only mid afternoon, but the place was already lively.

You made a beeline for the bar, dodging already tipsy bodies moving around the room chaotically and thumped your hand on the bar twice to get Penny’s. You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your lips as she angrily turned to see who had the audacity to get her attention like that. But her death glare soon slipped to a shocked grin when she spotted you, dropping her cloth to give you a hug over the bar that was so tight you thought she might crack a rib.

“Mia! What the hell are you doing back around here?” Penny poured you a beer as she gave you a questioning side glance.

“Apparently they need some new life ‘round here to teach the new- well old new meat.” You flashed her a smirk over the rim of your glass she had handed you before taking a sip.

“Well, god help the poor souls that cross your path in that classroom.” She returned your smirk easily.

“Penny, my dear,” a tanned, blond-haired man approached the bar opposite you, a smirk on his lips that you just knew was there 98% of the time. “I’ll have another round on my tab, please.” He threw in a wink for good measure. Then, his eyes were on you, widening slightly at the sight of you as he chewed on the toothpick between his teeth.

“Well, well, well,” the blond made his way around the bar to stand next to you. He leaned an elbow on the bar and rested his palm on his defined chin. “And who do we have here?” There’s a glint of something, lust, surely not, in his eyes as they roam over your features.

“Who wants to know?” Eyeing him up and down right back as you took another long sip of your beer, only your look was one more of annoyance than lewd interest.

“She’s a woman of mystery, Hangman,” Penny placed his 3 beers on the bar for him. “Good luck.” Winking at you before she returned back to the other customers waiting.

“So, Hangman? You like word puzzles or something?”

Hangman couldn’t help the slight snort of laughter that escaped him. “Gotta admit, haven’t heard that one before.” He nodded to his friends as they came over to grab their beers, realising that they’d probably never make it to the pool table they were gathered around. “But,” he glanced back to you. “I guess you’ll just have to find out how I got the name.”

If you were being honest, you zoned out about the time his posse came to rescue their drinks. Your heart had sunk the second you saw his famous Hawaiian shirt walk through the front door, fear only solidified as you heard a voice call out “Rooster, that you?”. You gulped down the remainder of your beer and slapped down a $50 note to cover your drinks, plus some. Your eyes caught Penny’s and you gave her a silent plea of ‘I was never here’, she replied with a knowing nod.

Hangman just stared at you, confusion spread across his handsome features.

“Thanks for the chat, Hangman, but it’s time for me to go.” You spoke as you hastily got out of your seat, eyes flashing to where Bradley was now standing with his friends, his back to you.

“Hey, can I at least get your—” You were up and making your way out the door before Hangman could even finish. “Name.”

“Like I said, Hangman, woman of mystery.”

~

Training began the next day, with only 3 weeks until the uranium plant was operational, you had to get a move on if any of this was going to work.

You were stood at the back of the room, having entered after the candidates were seated, waiting for Admiral Bates to introduce you.

“And she’s one of the greatest pilots I’ve seen come through this program. I give you Rear Admiral Mia Mitchell, call sign Highness.”

Your heavy boots thundered on the concrete floor as you walked up the aisle between the tables to the front. You could feel every single person’s eyes on you, and if you had’ve looked, you would have seen a few staring a little more intensely than others.

You turned on your heel at the front to face the group, flashing Bates a smile before nodding to the team. Eyeing them over your Ray-Bans, you noticed Bradley clench his jaw, avoiding eye contact. Jake Seresin, on the other hand, was clearly trying to hold back his shocked expression and act cool. But you could see him chewing on his gum a little harder.

It was your turn, however, to try and mask your shock as Admiral Bates introduced the second teacher. He and Simpson had warned you that there would be a second person, but gave nothing away on who it might be. Now you knew why.

“His exploits are legendary, and he’s considered to be one of the finest pilots this program has ever produced. I give you Captain Pete Mitchell, call sign Maverick.”

Your whole body stiffened, subtle smirk your lips just held falling slack jawed. The echo of his boots walking up the aisle reverberated in your ears.

He nodded at Bates and then you as he moved to stand beside you. Not him. Anyone but him.

You silently thanked yourself for keeping your Ray-Bans on, otherwise the whole room would have seen the sheer terror in your eyes at what was happening around you, and you couldn’t let the candidates see any weakness.

“I’ll let you two take the floor.” Admiral Bates stepped to the side, allowing you both the freedom to speak.

Pete held up the instruction manual for the F-18 aircraft. “I’m sure you all recognise this, and know it better than the back of your own hands.”

“Hell yeah.” “You’re damn right.” You were able to pick out the voices of Hangman and Coyote as you stared at Pete, wondering where the hell he was going with this. Obviously the team knew the manual, it’s your bible in Top Gun.

Pete dropped the brick of a book into the trash can beside him, and everyone gasped. “Well, so does the enemy. What they don’t know is you, the person in the box. Over the next 3 weeks we’re going to learn every single detail about you, anything we can use to our advantage to win this fight.” You’re sure he felt you stiffen beside him, you could feel his eyes on you from your peripheral.

Pete continued to explain the mission, a uranium plantation going against NATO laws that needed to be destroyed. All happening in 3 weeks. Everyone’s faces mimicked each other, pure shock and concern at how the hell they were going to manage this.

“Anything to add, Rear Admiral Mitchell?” Pete’s voice snapped you back from your mind wandering, you cleared your throat.

“Say again?” You turned to face him, the sound of the candidates in front of you chuckling filling your ears. You forced the red tinge away that was trying to make its way up your neck.

“Do you have anything you’d like to discuss?” Pete gave you a questioning look as he rephrased his question to you.

“Ah, right,” you cleared your throat again, turning to face back to the team in front of you.

“As I’m sure you’ve realised, Captain Mitchell here is in charge of prepping you for the flight and potential fight, the nitty gritty stuff. Well, I’m here to take this roomful of egos and turn it into a team.” You pushed your sunglasses onto your head, allowing your eyes to roam over the group in front of you, lingering on Hangman as you mentioned egos. “My job is to get you working and communicating effectively as a team, so if you have any plans on hanging your teammates out to dry, I’d suggest changing them. If you leave your teammate in a dogfight, 200 pushups; if you sacrifice them to make yourself look better, 200 pushups; if you do anything to put your team at risk, 200 pushups.” The room was silent, your authority bleeding through your words.

“I’m expertly trained in reading people, I can see straight through you if you lie to me, so just make it easier on the both of us and don’t try. I’m here to learn anything and everything about you, to build this team and make sure you all get everyone home safe to their families. Any questions?” The room remained silent, everyone staring at you with wide eyes, even Pete. “Excellent. Training starts at 0600 hours tomorrow, sharp. Dismissed.” The class stood, collecting the notes they had taken and filed out of the room, leaving you and Captain Mitchell alone.

“So are you going to tell me what the hell that was, Mia?” Pete was staring at you square on now, brows knitted together in a mix of concern, confusion and frustration.

“It’s Rear Admiral Mitchell, let’s keep things professional, Captain Mitchell. And to answer your question, that was what I wanted to discuss with the class.” You chose to ignore the way Pete’s body language deflated at your cold manner towards him.

“That was a bit much, don’t you think?”

“We have three weeks to make a team out of the best of the best, we don’t have time to fuck around here, Mitchell. Do you want these guys coming back or not?” Were you a little more blunt than you intended? Maybe, but you really didn’t care.

Pete just shook his head and sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I suppose you’re right. You always did know how to win friends and influence people.” He chuckled to himself as he walked out of the room, shaking his head slightly.

~

The last night of freedom before shit got real. The Hard Deck was packed as usual, the whole team for the uranium plantation mission was there, all taking the time to get to know one another better. A fact you wished you’d have been warned about before you stepped foot through the door.

“Highness! Come have a drink with us!” Natasha Trace, aka Phoenix, was already pulling you in the direction of the of the pool table the team was gathered around before you had a chance to protest. Fraternising with the team, your students, wasn’t exactly what you had in mind for your last night off in who knows how long.

“Well, I’m glad to see everyone is getting to know each other better, especially outside of training.” You gave them all a tight-lipped smile, hovering at Bradley for just a touch longer than the others. He just stared at you blankly. Clearly he still wasn’t over everything that happened, you thought to yourself.

“Fancy a round with us, Highness?” Something about the way Jake Seresin spoke your callsign made you uneasy. Not in the sick to your stomach kind of way, just in the way that made you think there was something more beyond what he was saying.

“That depends, you talking pool or beer?” You could feel yourself easing up around them all quicker than you realised, even flashing Seresin a cocky smirk as you answered him.

“I’m sure we could work something out that involves both.” Seresin winked and the rest of the team could only stare in quiet shock at the not-so-subtle flirting going on between the two of you. It made Bradley’s blood boil.

Natasha could see the effect the interaction had on Bradley from a mile away and she nudged his shoulder with her own.

“You good?”

“I’m great.” He replied through gritted teeth, obviously the complete opposite of fine. He could only glare as you accepted the beer Seresin had just bought for you, noticing the trace of a genuine smile behind your usually professional smile. It made him sick. Out of all people, it had to be Seresin?

“And that’s a fuckin’ lie.” Natasha was facing Bradley straight on now, hands on her hips in a way similar to that of a mother concerned for her child.

“Quit it, Trace!” Something about the way Bradley bit at her name made Natasha wince, if he continued on like this, there was no way in hell he was making the cut and they’d be stuck with Hangman as lead. Over her dead body.

Bradley could already sense she was about to press further and cut it off at the source.

“Just fucking leave it, Natasha.” He turned on his heel and stormed off towards the exit before she could protest further, leaving her staring at his retreating figure.

Something about the way he snapped almost made you feel bad for him. Almost. But you weren’t about to let Bradley fucking Bradshaw ruin your night, or your career. He would have to either get over whatever his problem was with you, or pack his bag and walk off the mission. There was no way in hell you were going anywhere, even if you had to work alongside Mav. This was potentially a career-making mission, and nothing was going to stop you from what may be on the other side of it.

perm taglist: @katieshook02

some moots i think might like it: @traitorjoelite @coyotesamachado @callsignvalley @ohtobeleah (pls let me know if you would like to not be tagged in future ♥︎)

#bradley bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fanfic #bradley bradshaw oneshot #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw #rooster top gun #rooster bradshaw #top gun rooster #top gun maverick #top gun x reader #top gun fic #top gun fanfic #top gun imagine #top gun oneshot #rooster imagine #rooster oneshot #rooster x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster fic #tgm #top gun maverick x reader #top gun maverick x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #rooster x oc #rooster angst #bradley bradshaw fanfiction

[beanghostprincess]

beanie, dear, im still thinking about your fairytale au bc i love love love the notion of artist/art and usopp's "he is not in love with his sanji. but maybe this one. maybe this one is someone he can fall in love with" and sanji just is *his* sanji but differently, and sanji calling it fate, im so so weak for this, the potential of soulmates without the pressure of world dedicating soulmates, usopp setting sanji free through sheer force of imagination and love bc he loves his stories and he loves the lost prince in his stories and he deserves a happy ending, and sanji does too, and sanji's "let me have this" and maybe, probably, certainly they have known each other their whole life, have always been with each other in their hearts bc they are meant to be, and im so happily insane over this au, so thank you for planting this into my head ❤️❤️❤️

I'm so insane about it too and I am so so so glad you liked it this much!!! I was in the middle of work and somehow that idea appeared in my mind out of nowhere- Loving my brain a lot after that tbh.

This was supposed to be more of an "artist that creates sculpture/character and they come to life and fall in love" type of thing. But I think the uncertainty of it all and not knowing exactly whether Usopp made Sanji or not, but Sanji wanting to believe he did because he trusts Usopp with his own life and fate and likes to think their hearts were linked from the start... It's just beautiful. Maybe it's a mix of both things, y'know, I haven't thought that much about it.

But maybe Usopp had recurring dreams about Sanji, when he was a kid. About actual Sanji and future Sanji. And he just... Started drawing and writing and fell in love with the whole idea of him. It's sort of ridiculous and he never told anyone, but I'm pretty sure Usopp was too invested in Sanji and fell in love with him. But the dreams were always so sad and heartbreaking he wanted to give him a happy ending, so he wrote about his sister helping him escape and the guy finding another home, and suddenly the dreams started to change into something brighter and better and happier.

So maybe they were linked by heart and that's why Usopp dreamt about him, but also, maybe, Usopp had the power to change Sanji's story just by writing it down somehow. It'd also be cute if Sanji had this superhero in his mind ever since he was a kid (Sogeking) because he dreamt constantly about him saving him and once Enies Lobby happens, Sanji has to stop for a moment a process that his hero is Usopp.

#idk if this makes sense i just woke up #like seriously i am so eepy it's insane #but i hope this kind of made sense i am really happy you liked my au #it's funny bc people think this is for sanuso week and it is not qwkdjbwjkefbj #my fairy tale au is more disney cliché but tbh i'll write about this au someday too dw #it's abt sanji being a princess (closeted trans woman btw) and usopp being an alchemist (also a woman bc i like girls) #and things very disney happen #one piece #sanuso #black leg sanji #usopp

[coeluvr]

Part 1 of Modern AU, same anon of the last au:

"Helios..."

Just like that, she calls out my name. Like honey, but tastes bittersweet, like there's a river of haunting melancholia and insomnia. She keeps on kissing me, I could feel her lips, solely on my nose and cheeks, as she strokes my hair.

I pull her into my arms, hold her closed beyond anything, she burries herself between the crook of my neck and shoulder. I love it when she does that, her small frame in my body, the way she trembles in excitement and shyness when I trail my fingertips along her back.

Drops of kisses hinders in her hair. I remember those cries, every soft moans she screamed out when she's under my body, pleasure and alluring. I could feel the heat of her when her entirety presses against mine, and my love will never satisfy, not when we're both so close yet so apart.

Eyes are everywhere beneath and underneath those walls, and she hates it. I want to carry her in my arms and forever begone, but I have my duty, for I carry the royal bloods.

That makes it even harder to run away.

And then there's bloods.

Red dress, bloody eyes, dark veins across skins... I remember not being able to concentrate anything, but her. She smiles, for the last time.

And I scream.

I scream for her life. I scream for her love. I scream for her to stay awake.

"Helios."

No. That's not her voice. It's never hers. Wake up.

"Helios! Helios! Seriously buddy, wake up!"

Quiet. Shut up. No one can ever calls me that. Only MC...

MC...? Who is she? She's my dream, but who is she?

Ah, right. She's...

"Helios! I swear if you're not gonna wake up any sooner, I'll splash water!"

*Gasps!

Helios opens his eyes as soon as he wokes up. Soarine stands next to his bed, looking at him with worries. She hands him a glass of water. "MC again?"

No. Not a nightmare. More like a bittersweet slumber. Still, he nods his head. "MC." Maybe it's indeed a nightmare, with the a blessing of dreams.

He can still feels her, though, shyly hiding herself in his arms.

"Well, Fadiya did make those pills yesterday. Make sure you have it before your sleeps." Soarine grimaces a little as she mentions those pills, knowing that Helios hates it. "I can help you contact Aunt Naima." She's a therapist.

"There's no need for that." He winces, as he notices he has immediately opposed against the idea. But really, he doesn't need it. Not when MC's in his dream. "I... Just, just give me a break. Please."

Even when all she does is haunting him mercilessly.

Thankfully, his dear friend didn't continue on the topic.

"Okay." Soarine stands up, proceeds leaving Helios's room as he needs to prepare himself for the day. "Ah, by the way..."

"There will be someone new joining us, the room next to you. So, be kind and make sure Vincent doesn't kill them."

"Them?" Someone new will be joining their dorm. Great. Just great.

His friends chuckles. "Well, we aren't sure of their pronouns, don't we?"

"Get dressed. And come down for breakfast. Hunter's going to kill me now if I don't get you down. And Vincent, too."

[posting as is bc fanfic]

#coaaf if: written fanwork #coaaf if: Helios and MC

[marshmallowprotection]

No wait oh my god theres so much potential for Saeyoung getting sick and Saeran having to help him- Especially if its post RAE bc you and the twins go traveling and you KNOW Saeyoung's not gonna say shit because he doesnt want to spoil yours and Saeran's fun after all you went through. It probably takes you, Saeran, and several rfa calls to get him to actually rest

And then theres the whole mess of actually having a fever and all the Trauma the boys have associated with that and Saeyoungs internalized guilt about not being 'strong' enough for his brother and their still mending relationship and GOD I WISH I WAS A BETTER WRITER SO I COULD WRITE THIS

"He wouldn't let you do anything?"

"Nu-uh, nothing. I left the Tylenol by his bed, though. He wouldn't let me give it to him but I figure... he'll take it if he really needs it. Brother has... been that way for as long as I can remember. I can't remember a time in my life when he let me take care of him. I always was sick as a kid, but... if Saeyoung ever was, I can't recall. He wouldn't tell me if he was sick. For a long time, I thought Saeyoung couldn't get sick... it seemed like he was... stronger than I'd ever be."

"Saeyoung didn't want to worry you, I guess."

"He took care of me from the minute I could walk... which was way after he did. If I needed anything, Saeyoung would do everything to take care of my needs. I don't know how he did it, but there was one time when I had a really bad fever. He left me alone at some point to take care of mother's errands... but when he came back, he had some medicine."

"How did he manage that? I mean, you guys were in hiding from your father... and he was... the two of you were just kids."

"I still don't know, my love. But, that's the kind of person Saeyoung is. He will do whatever it takes to protect his loved ones... and... I know it must be hard... to..." Saeran's voice wavered, cracking his throat from the other side of the door. Even if he couldn't see his brother's face, it was obvious he was on the brink of tears.

Saeyoung caused that.

The voice of an angel was there to comfort him, though. To protect a weary heart with their gentle love and care. "It's okay, my sweet... it's okay. You're allowed to cry. Breathe with me... okay? Let's slow down and get you some tea."

Even in a state of delirium, Saeyoung Choi still had enough sense in him to pay attention to his surroundings. It didn't matter how weak or sick he was. He would be on guard. He was trained for this, yes, but it was a skill he'd been using since he was a child. It didn't matter if the threat was gone. It didn't matter if their father was behind bars for the rest of his life. It didn't matter that the agency had been dismantled.

His job was to remain strong for his dear family. His family meant the world to him. Saeran... [Y/N]... the RFA... they were his family, but the most important family to him was Saeran. They were twins, made of the same soul, and he promised that he would always protect him. It didn't matter what happened. It was his duty as a big brother to save his little brother.

His goal to protect his brother had been distorted by others his entire life. People used him and abused him in the name of what had been a truly innocent goal on his part. How could he just stop trying to do all he could for Saeran? He couldn't just stop giving the shirt off his back for his twin. He couldn't stop fighting even if Saeran had stood on his two feet, his two wobbly legs, and proved that he could protect every dream he had on his own.

Saeran was strong, emotionally.

He could handle himself now. He didn't need Saeyoung... but, what Saeyoung needed was to be needed. He needed to be there just in case. Just in case someone tried something again. That's why he'd wanted to come along with Saeran and [Y/N] after their honeymoon. They made the offer to him that he should tag along for a new trip, a family vacation. He would get to see his brother every day and chat with his new in-law.

It was a wonderful offer... even though, Saeyoung didn't want to get in their way. Saeran was living a beautiful life. He'd carved it out on his own. He deserved it... and Saeyoung was still trying to figure out what his life was. He was 'free' now... all thanks to his brother... even though, Saeran shouldn't have ever been on the battlefield in the first place.

No.

Blood wasn't meant to touch Saeran's soul.

It was meant for Saeyoung's hands alone.

With a ragged breath, he rolled over in bed, the fever burning him to nothing more than ashes. He was supposed to be strong... why had he gotten sick like this? How was his body this broken? Only a couple minutes in the icy cold shouldn't have done this to him... he'd been in the Antarctic for two months not even that long ago for a mission via Vanderwood's request.

When had Saeyoung left himself to become soft? Was it when he stopped training from threats? Was it when he lost himself in a bad state when his brother left the country for six months to enjoy some peace that he rightfully earned? Was it when he realized that his one purpose in life was no longer what he imagined it to be? He had to be strong for Saeran.

Just in case.

Something could always go wrong... and if it didn't... Saeyoung would be ready. He had to be ready. So, why wasn't he ready? Why was he in bed with a fever? Why was he trembling with chills that reminded his aching heart of the days when Saeran would cling to him? He wanted to be healthy... so he could do what he had to do.

If he couldn't give his life for Saeran, he had to be willing to remain there... always in the corner... always ready to act.

He wasn't sure he had another purpose. He coughed, the heart in his brain feeling too much to focus on anything but discomfort. He was free... but what was freedom? He wasn't allowed to exist and now... it was too much. There was too much in front of him and he felt like it was impossible to move. He could mask. He could smile. He could be there and laugh...

But, he would never admit to a single soul he was running himself into the ground with this feeling of misery.

"P... Pathetic..." his throat was hoarse as he spoke to himself in the darkness. "You're pathetic... that's what Saejoong said... you're just another cog in the machine, Saeyoung... thinking you... can do any little thing to outsmart them all... but in the end... you get played like a fiddle... and... and...."

The darkness welcomed him in the midst of his haze.

It would be hours before he even vaguely regained awareness, much less consciousness.

He thought he'd been on fire again. But, this time, there was a kind of coolness against his face that wasn't there before. His glasses weren't on but he could feel someone in the room. He blinked, bleary-eyed in a feverish state, and saw a white blob at his bedside. Saeran was the person that he least expected to come in here.

He didn't imagine his twin would want to risk getting sick like this. His immune system was still a weak one. It wouldn't take much for a little cold to leave him on his back for days.

Maybe it wasn't even his twin... maybe he was having a dream from the fever. He didn't know what a dream would feel like against a fever dream... if he got sick when he was in the agency, Vanderwood gave him the strongest painkiller and he kept working. Even though he'd hated substances that altered his mind... medication kept him going like he needed. It was better than alcohol, he told himself.

The coldness he felt, he realized, was an ice pack.

Saeran must've grabbed one to try and help with his fever the only way he knew how. Saeyoung knew Saeran had a weariness to most medications, too. He didn't talk about it... but whatever happened to him with Rika... it wasn't good. Another reason why Saeyoung knew he was a failure. But, Saeran trusted painkillers and basic medicine... because it made a difference when someone needed help. The body was only so strong...

Normal people were only so strong.

Saeyoung wasn't normal.

"You didn't take anything," Saeran said.

"I'm fine," Saeyoung muttered. It was a blatant lie that neither of them believed. "You shouldn't be in here. It's just a fever... I'll be fine. I don't want you to catch this cold. It'll be a lot worse if you get sick. You and [Y/N] have plans this weekend."

"Brother, I don't have any plans that're more important than you are. I don't want you to be alone. If you're not going to help your fever, the least I can do is stay here with you."

Saeyoung said nothing.

"You used to do this for me all the time, remember? When I got sick, you wouldn't go to the cathedral until I felt better. Even if that meant we didn't eat much that day... you knew I'd cry and cry... and cry... if I was alone and sick with mother," Saeran said, softly. Even if he could not see Saeran, he knew his brother was looking at his lap. He didn't dare look at Saeyoung when he was nervous.

"I knew you needed to go. But, I kept asking for you to stay. I was a scaredy-cat. I hated being alone... but I knew you were stronger than me. You were faster than me... you knew how to protect yourself on the street. But, brother... Saeyoung... tell me, why did you ever let me believe that you weren't scared, too? Why couldn't I help you when it was bad? I know I needed more... but, why... why couldn't you—"

"I wasn't important," Saeyoung cut him off, a cough burning in his throat before he could finish. He closed his eyes to avoid the static clouding his vision. "You were so important, Saeran. You were more important. If I got sick, I got better. If you got sick, you got worse. I didn't need anything. I had to take care of you. I have to take care of you no matter what! That's my job! I'm your— ack, cough—I'm your big brother. My job is to protect you since our parents didn't want to protect either of us."

A coughing fit burned in his throat. He felt ashamed of himself... and the pain he felt was wrong. He needed to be better. He wanted a dull dream where nothing like this haunted him. Whether this was real or fake, he just wanted it to... he needed it to end. He needed to be back to full strength. He needed to be strong.

"I'm not a child anymore, brother."

"I know that! But—"

"Saeyoung, brother, I love you. You're my big brother. You always will try to take care of me no matter what happens. I know that. I know I don't have to be afraid of anything when you're with me. But, brother, I don't need you to be strong for me now. I'm strong. I know how to take care of myself, too. If I need you, I'll tell you I need you. You know I would. I don't have any reason to hide my suffering from you. We're the same soul, remember? So, why are you still hiding your suffering from everyone? Not just me, but the rest of our family?"

Saeran was standing up now, his voice emotional and torn with such things that Saeyoung had never heard before. He felt shameful. This wasn't what he wanted. He never wanted to hurt Saeran. The pain in his brother's voice tore him to shreds. In trying to hide his pain from his brother, he hurt his brother more than he would've if he had just been honest.

Saeyoung jolted up, the ice pack falling from his face as he looked at his twin, full of shame. "I have to be the strongest, Saeran! I can't live if I'm not— If I'm not strong enough to protect you!"

Like whiplash, the truth sent him reeling and tears flooded into his eyes. His vision clouded, and his fists clawed at the sheets. What he didn't see in Saeran's face was the recognition of the words he'd just spoken as if those words were his own. All he knew was that he had no way to hide his pain anymore.

Saeran's arms wrapped around him, tightly, in a hug that he refused to let go of. Saeyoung couldn't bring himself to hug his brother back, he only stared ahead of himself, the darkness taunting his vision as the fever became worse and the ringing in his ears left him nothing but a shell of himself. He needed to be strong... Saeran wasn't meant to see him like this.

But... the fact was... Saeyoung couldn't hide anymore. Not from his brother and not from their family. His mask was broken and nothing could put it back together now that the truth was revealed.

"You don't need to be the strongest to be worthy of a wonderful life, Saeyoung," Saeran's words were foggy in the distance. "That's what [Y/N] taught me after I really hurt them trying to prove my strength was the only reason I was still alive. We won't let you suffer that way, I promise... I promise. Please, let your family take care of you."

And just like that, Saeyoung was swept away once again, this time, whispering, "Forgive me."

#mystic messenger #drabble #mysticmessenger #mysme #mm #ask #anon #mod kait #saeyoung choi #choi saeyoung #luciel choi #choi luciel #rae saeyoung #sae saeyoung #saeran after ending #saeran choi #choi saeran #ge saeran #saeray #saeran #saeran mysme #saeran mystic messenger #saeran mm #mm saeran #mysme saeran #mystic messenger saeran #seven mm #seven mystic messenger #mystic messenger seven #mm seven

[1004tyun-archive]

i said i would write you an essay to prove you i love you the most 😖🩷 so here i am

crystal 🥺🥺 when i met you i didn’t think we would end up messaging everyday all day hehe i was actually so worried that you’d find me boring and that the conversation would just die ><

we have talked about so much, in general, and yet it feels like i just never get tired of talking to you 🥺 you make me so happy, i feel so much better now that you’re in my life 🥺🩷 thank you so much for being in my life i feel so loved and appreciated >\\\< i feel like i really don’t deserve it which is why i want to give you more 🥺😭🩷

my little fairy of crystals, my crystal gem 💎🥺🩷 you’re so beautiful, nice, sweet, kind, talented, intelligent, my favorite writer, i love the way i get immersed into your stories you really have a way with words 🥺🩷 my favorite… i think is i love you and i want us both to eat well 🥺🩷 it’s the one i reread it the most… 🥺🩷 aaaah i love you so much <3333

i think i’m running out of things to say i wouldn’t want to repeat myself over and over 🥺 i love you 🥺🩷🩷🩷 and so does taehyun!!!

CHERRYYYYYYYYYYYYY

WHERE DO I EVEN BEGIN WITH THIS???!?

one thing is for sure, you’re a woman of your word. you said you’d write me an essay and you did just that! i don’t know what i expected!!

first of all, i cannot believe that you would ever think you would bore me considering every conversation we’ve had is anything but boring 😭 i feel like we always find something to talk about no matter what we talk about, we end up fighting about who loves the other more lol if anything, i thought you would find /me/ boring!

i could never ever imagine getting tired of you. it’s like you’ve cemented yourself into my daily life the way we talk everyday 🥺 i’ve learned over this weekend that a day without talking to you (or, let’s face it, even HOURS without talking to you) just feels wrong. it’s like i need you here so everything is okay, so you gotta stay by my side, okay? i’m not letting you go now that i’ve got you 🥺🩵 thank YOU for being here, thank you for pushing yourself to message me first, thank you for being you.

🚨 WEE WOO CORNBALL ALERT ‼️ CRYSTAL’S ABOUT TO GET SAPPY 🚨

i’ve always been a firm believer of people coming into your life when you need them most. so many things have happened to me that have proved this right time and time again, and you’re no different. i believe we found each other at the perfect time.

i abandoned this account for a couple of months and when i finally came back to it earlier this year, i was so tempted to delete it since my fic output was nonexistent and i wasn’t happy with any of my drafts but then i discovered kumi’s taehyun fic and i was like hmm maybe i’ll just stay as a reader account and quit writing but then you came along and we started talking and now i wouldn’t even dream of deleting this blog, not when it’s brought me to so many kind and amazing and talented people. not when it’s brought me to you, my dear <3

i’m so glad we’ve found each other. you continue to inspire me and warm my heart and just make everything so much better. i love learning more about you and finding out we have so much in common and bonding over the tiniest things 🥺

sometimes people say they were born in the wrong generation and (no matter how old we feel sometimes 😭😭) i wouldn’t ask for a more perfect time to be here, to have met you <3

people have called me a tsundere before and while i don’t think that’s completely false bc i’m kinda bad at expressing lovey dovey feelings it comes so naturally when it’s you 🥺 it’s so easy to love you, cherry. i sincerely and truly hope you know that

my sweet cherry bear, my happy pill, my hot choco fairy, my cottagecore princess 🥺🥺 you’re one of a kind, so softhearted and kind and beautiful and supportive and so lovely~ i hope we stay friends forever 🩵🩵 i love you so so much

i hope this isn’t too crazy but… i think you’ve dethroned taehyun in terms of who i think about more 😳 but don’t tell him! i don’t wanna hurt his feelings. there’s still enough room in my heart and mind for the both of you 🫶🏾🫶🏾

#blushing as i type this but… i have your time zone saved on my phone hdhshhs #YOU’RE MAKING ME BLUSH CHERRY GAHHH #don’t think i’m not writing you a letter after this btw #expect a strongly worded love fueled essay in your inbox soon!! #cherry bear 🍒

[elm0w0rld]

Cole x F!Reader

➭ANGST.

Tw:

•anxiety

•depression

•su!c!d3

Thanks to abigaliaml for request!<3

Today ninjas had a day off. Its was rainy day but still beautiful. Cole decidet to go and talk to (reader) because they are childhood friends. Even tho they knew they can trust eachother, there is something that (reader) didnt want to tell Cole. When he was in her room, he noticed something on her nightstand. When he came closer he noticed that those are really strong pills for depression/anxiety. In a matter of seconds (reader) came back from toilet and she froze when she saw Cole hold her pills in his hand.

"COLE WHAT ON EARTH ARE YOU DOING?! " she said when she realised what he is holding and then ran away from her room cursing herself under her breath for yelling at Cole.

"(Reader) wait!" He yelled still shocked from what he has seen. But sadly (reader) was nowhere to be found. He saw Nya outside and came uo to her.

"Nya did you see (reader)?!"

"Oh? Hi Cole and yes she said she is going to buy some new clothes, why?"

"Its nothing, thank you Nya!" He said waving 'bye' to Nya with his hand.

After hours of looking for her in all malls she have taken him, he never seen her in any of them. He came back finding (reader) talking with Jay. Then (reader) noticed Cole and said to Jay.

" *yawn* ah sorry Jay Im getting tried i think i will go to my room now. Byebye~"

"Bye (reader)~!!" Jay said back.

And she started running to her room. Cole ran after her pushing Jay to the floor (poor little boy :(. ) he didnt react in any way. (Reader) closed door to her room before Cole had a chance to catch her. He sighed and decidet to lether rest. And this is how next week looked. Next few days were really busy for ninjas (btw reader is like nurse for them bc its cool idea) and he wasnt able to talk to her. Everyday after he came back from his missions he went to (reader) (unless we had to treat ninjas wounds) but one day Sensei Wu had really bad news.

"I called all of you here because of very important reason." he said in really serious tone.

"Wait where is (reader)??" asked Lloyd.

"Yeah she never missed and meeting!" added Kai

At this point Cole knew what this might be about.

"Yes this is about her. She decidet to end her life today. She left a note for Cole."

The crew was silent. Some were crying and some were trying to be tough but deep down inside they were having a mental breakdown.

After a few days Cole decidet to read the note (reader) left him.

"Dear Cole

If you are reading this, it means Im not in this world anymore. Dont blame yourself, you always were the best friend I ever had. Please dont give up on your dreams.

(Reader)"

He didnt know what to say, he just got on his knees and started crying.

The next day it was (readers) funeral. Everyone came.

"Ah she was such a lovely girl.. who would think about such things..?"

"Poor girl.. My heart goes to her family and friends.."

There were many comments like this. She always helped anyone, that needed help. After a few hours people started leaving. Cole just sat there staring at her grave full of the prettiest flowers he has ever seen in his life.

"Hey Cole.. Its time to go.." Zane said

"Yea right..." he said and then whispered

"I love you.."

AHH IT WAS MY FIRST TIME WRITING ANGST I HOPE IT IS GOOD!

[fateblood]

Sandman rambling by someone who was shaped by the comics growing up

I've been into the comics since I was a bullied, lonely 12 year old who was handed Endless Nights because someone didn't want it in their library anymore. I understood nothing. Yet, I devoured it in a few days and a few weeks later I had the first issue of the comic. Since then, it has been a major, if not the biggest, part of my fictional life. There's few characters that are as dear to me as Death and Morpheus, as Rose and Hob are to me. Sandman, to me, is my ultimate escapist medium. It's where I go to when everything else fails me.

Cut for Length. Bc I rambled.

The show I expected nothing from. I didn't like the casting at announcement, I didn't like the setting change into the 2020s (which to me has only been a hurtful, horrible decade with no style), and I definitely did not like that they did not give Morpheus his signature eyes.

I mellowed out as I watched my way through the show. The casting is good, really good. The only one I actively dislike is Jenna Coleman's Johanna but that might also be because I find her character to be flatly written and have never been a fan of hers (no offense to Jenna! She's great! I just didn't like her at this instance). The others - especially Mason Alexander Park I have to give special credit here - are doing a great job.

It's a slow show (my dad fell asleep multiple times through it), and it takes time. Which it should. This isn't the story of great action-rich battles, this is the story of someone who is millenia old, meeting humans who have less than a fraction of this time and being forced to change their ways. It's a beautiful looking show. It hits hard when it should, it has great acting performances. Especially John Dee, who has been greatly humanised (for better and for worse) and Roderick Burgess have been played with such grand epicness by two actors I personally enjoy.

Now to my downsides. Because over all, to me, this is a mixed bag. -> death's character design. I loved Kirby. What I didn't love is.... how basic she looked. I know, this is the death look, the iconic one, but it did not hit that hard when you're in the 2020s and a black tank top and black jeans are just... normal wear. I was robbed of Goth Icon Death and that I did not get her and Dream to look like they were attending a Cure concert. I know it's a "damned if you do, damned if you don't" situation (who would like to change her iconic look?!) but dang it, I really hope that IF we get a season 2, we get a Death in a more fancy outfit with some more nods to subculture fashion. (Egirl Death would be really funny to me tbh) -> I feel like a lot got sanitised. Non of the deep, gut wrenching punches of the comics (Constantine's girlfriend with the Sand, 24 hours as a whole...) felt... impactful. The show is rated 18 and yet I felt neither scared nor unsettled once while watching it. Hell, my mother who can't even stand Supernatural was nothing but fine with it. I guess, it's because this is not the time for gruesomeness on TV and maybe it is the wrong show, but I feel the 18 rating (in my country at least) was so not justified. Bad shit happened. I guess. It didn't feel like it was *that* bad, because, oh well, next episode the world is normal! Nothing ever happened. We never got the chaos that Dream's absence caused - and what his artefacts did - in the waking world, apart from being alluded to in 24/7 and like, the sleeping sickness?? -> What I call the "tumblrfication of the Corinthian". He's not scary. Hell, he's not even THAT creepy. If this was any other show he wouldn't even be that bad of a guy (considering shows like hannibal here). He's the bad guy because the plot needs him to be. How many people are happily excusing him being a literal walking nightmare because they are horny.... idk. I'm really happy for you (not sarcasm!). For me personally, I would have liked him to be genuinely, really scary. He's a waking nightmare. His comic version is one of the best villains I've ever seen and he's genuinely, bad pun, nightmare inducing. The humanisation of his - and John Dee's to an extend - character happens so you have more to write about. And so you can make your audience somewhat like them. I personally did not enjoy that at all.

Those are the three big ones. Lyta Hall's story being changed, I give them, fair. Though it again wasn't scary. "Being 8 months pregnant forever" vs "being in labor within a few days" just does not pack the same punch. I give them the gender-bending of Lucifer bc I love Gwendolyne Christie, but a comic accurate Lucifer ONCE would have been nice. At least, it's not Tom Ellis. The man gave me the creeps.

I'd be excited - IF there is a season 2 - to see more family members. Especially Delirium holds a place in my heart that's very dear to me. I want more of Despair, I want Destruction (even though I know Brief Lifes is definitely not season 2 material when there's Seasons of Mist and A Game of you and all that...) and I want awkward, stupid family diners.

So over all, I rate Sandman a solid 6.5/10 depressed Dreams. I had fun. It felt familiar. But it wasn't "show me your dreams and I'll show you horror in a handful of dust". But maybe, that's okay.

Tom Surridge speaks in black speech bubbles. I just have to mention that.

#faible blogs #the sandman #personal subjective opinion #this is not a discussion post this is my personal experience with the show that I wanted to write down somewhere #so please don't come to my inbox to scream at me about it #thanks.

[dreamwritesimagines]

i’m literally reading through this with my heart beating like crazy bc i know The Maze™️ is about to jump at me any time now. this is so funny like i’m a paragraph in sksks. anyways, back to reading–

THE WAY I YELLED AAAAAAAH HUGH AND KENNETH OH MY FUCKING GOD !!!!!!! GO AND GET SUMN !!! i feel like a love spell is just floating around this place goddamn why is everyone just in desperate need of a Lovin™️ sksksksk but pls Cherie immediately distracting Penelope like, she ain’t a snitch that’s for sure. now now, Who™️ is Anthony covering for?? it’s Elias & Cece isn’t it??? right when they disappeared to do the deed?? LMAO first thing in the job description as the best man: be on the lookout. but i feel like Elias won’t return the favour if ever Anthony and Cherie will one day sneak around before their marriage ksksksk

WHY. WAS. KENNETH. SHIRTLESS. THOUGH. Cherie out here asking the important questions LMAO. Hugh is also onto her with the kissing thing as well ksks i feel like he has an idea already but is just keeping it hush bc his dear friend is hurting. and pls, this moment is so sweet. Hugh feels so safe around Cherie like am so so sure he probably was Shitting Bricks™️ going up to her and expecting hard hitting questions but here she is asking if he was in love when Hugh and Kenneth just met. we love an open minded and non-judgmental queen <3 also, Cecily being the only one who knows...ugh my heart. he’s going to cry when he will walk her down the aisle. i am sure of it. “We’ll see.” HUGH X KENNETH ITS HAPPENING <3

“Elias was showing me around.” mm-hmm, indeed he was. he was NOT showing you around the house tho *wink* *wink* ksksks and now Lucie and Iona are missing. genuinely what are they putting in the water in this place???? is love always in the air at Stormview?

god she’s slowly starting to make up her mind about this adequate life partner thing. i mean, Lady Danbury being frank about Anthony’s feelings and my gooood it’s painful to watch Cherie deny it bc again, she’s made up her mind. and as we all know, she never listens to anyone. but OMG THANK YOU LADY DANBURY. her words about marrying another when you’re in love with someone else is just Chef’s Kiss™️ like, the whole marrying Pierre thing is genuinely a torture for her too and it’s quite sad that she’s either not seeing it or is simply accepting it.

oh my god here it comes and jfc i’m not there yet but i’m about to have a heart attack. .....omg that Cassandra of Troy parallel, about Cassandra not being believed by everyone....Cherie calling the statue mom...did Percival tell the sculpture to use Cassie as inspo?? my heart is aching. OMG HERE COMES ANTHONY AND NOW IT’S RAINING?!?!?!

“Marry me instead.” SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP. HOLD UP. I NEED TO BREATHEEEE IS THIS GOING BE----WAIT NO. NO NO NO!! ANTHONY NO. GOD NO. GOD FUCKING DAMMIT YOU MORON YOU BLASPHEMOUS IDIOT YOU AAAAAAAAH. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP !!!! STOP TALKING OMG YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE !!!

.....okay, wait, after much consideration and yelling at the wind, i get where he’s coming from. he’s still an Idiot Premium™️ don’t get me wrong, but that moment with Lady Danbury where she saw someone over Cherie’s shoulder, that was Anthony wasn’t it? meaning, he heard everything Cherie said that, “It was a childish dream to hope that I would have a love marriage. Now I know I must have other expectations and I’m glad to say that I have a suitor in mind that fits those expectations.”

so what he said to her in The Maze™️ is basically a response to what she was saying. this is him saying he meets those expectations she’s “looking” for.

Cherie: “An adequate life partner. Someone I can build a life with and raise children with.”

Anthony: “I can provide better financial security for you than he can, and as a Viscountess you will have a permanent and influential standing in the ton.” // “...our children would have uncontested places in the ton and they would want for nothing.”

he is proving to her what he thought she wanted, something logical. that he can provide for her, that he can give her a stable life, children, fortune, etc. i feel like when he heard Cherie said “An adequate life partner.” Anthony is now trying to tell her that he is an adequate life partner and that he is a better adequate life partner than Pierre. when Cherie stated all those things, Anthony basically resulted to: now she wants a logical marriage? i can do logical too. because he’s getting so fucking desperate here. 

a few chapters back he thought Cherie was still marrying for love so when she said she loved him, that sparked Anthony’s hope that okay, i can fix this, i will court her properly, i will prove myself to her, i still have the chance. because she loves me and she said she wants to marry for love. BUT THEN when he HEARD (i really want to empathize that and i will explain it further in the next paragraph) Cherie said she is marrying Pierre bc he’s an adequate life partner a.k.a. a logical marriage, Anthony is scrambling because he doesn’t know what to do anymore. first she wanted love, now she wanted a business matrimony? i can do business. BUT the way he went about it is just....wrong bc he’s just failing to see what Cherie actually wants. bc she is being in denial to quote Penelope. so she’s now saying she’s marrying Pierre not for love but bc she basically thinks he’s a logical match. she saying that’s what she wants even tho she’s lying to everyone and herself. BUT Anthony is taking her words at face value even though she’s actually hiding what she truly feels.

this is why i’m not blaming everything on Anthony, bc let’s be real here, he can’t read minds. so he is only going about what he’s hearing from her. like these are words coming from Cherie herself. he’s going to believe her and take her words into account BUT how was he supposed to know that what her mouth is speaking is actually different to what’s going through her head? WE are seeing Cherie’s thought process, Anthony is not. his last braincell is already struggling as is, are we really going to expect him to dissect every little thing from Cherie’s facial expression and body language and figure it all out and find the truth all while she’s actively trying her best to hide her true feelings? this is why Communication Is Key™️ folks bc you can only assume what someone’s words mean and assumption is never 100% and these two haven’t had a Real & Honest Conversation™️ not even ONCE. their moments together, they aren’t exactly communicating, they’re just saying words and all are flying over each other’s heads. i mean, Cherie isn’t letting Anthony finish his sentences, Anthony is having a hard time understanding her because she’s saying one thing and then something else the next day but also wanting something else entirely. Cherie hasn’t even seen Anthony's side either, like she has yet to hear why he didn’t want love in the first place and why he came to that logic. and she has yet to hear about what Anthony said to Elias as to why Anthony didn’t go public with them at the start. and he was about to tell her that he doesn’t see her as a “shameful secret” but again, she didn’t let him speak.

BIG SIGH™️ i’m about to pull my hair out at this point. i’m just.....Frustrated™️ LMAO. bc they are BOTH sending mix signals to each other. Anthony is hearing what Cherie is saying but he isn’t seeing the truth (not that he can bc again, he can’t read minds) Cherie is hearing all this claims from everyone that Anthony loves her but she’s refusing to see the truth i.e. Lady Danbury saying she’s being blind.

i know everyone is going come at Anthony for this, and rightfully so, but Cherie isn’t exactly faultless here either. we have to take into account that Anthony isn’t a mind reader, that he is only taking in what he’s given which is Cherie’s own words. and my god the Communication™️ is as bad as it’s going to get. bc neither of them are giving the other the chance to lay it all the fuck out. neither of them are being honest with each other too!! i mean, hell, they’re not being honest with themselves. if Anthony had just been honest and told her he wants to marry her bc he loves her, it would’ve definitely made a difference. but if Cherie had just been honest with herself that she actually does NOT want an adequate partner only then maybe Anthony would not have tried to convince her that he is an adequate partner.

i feel like he was about to say he loves her, like, he was about to say it when she asked why, but then he panicked bc let’s not forget this is a man who swore off love, who was so convinced he would never have love for years. OF COURSE he’s going to be terrified to just say it especially when this is going to be his first time saying it to the person he loves out loud. idk about you guys but confessing powerful feelings to someone is fucking scary, and when that person is angry at you?? mortifying. but also, i feel like he remembered Cherie’s words about not wanting a love marriage anymore hence why she’s marrying Pierre. so Anthony thought, if that’s what she wants i can give her that too and decided last minute to take the business route instead which.....obviously was the wrong choice. Anthony sees Pierre as a competition, so he’s trying to one up him in every way. Anthony knew he was already in the lead when it comes to Cherie marrying for love bc Cherie loves him, not Pierre. BUT THEN when he heard Cherie is marrying Pierre purely out of business, Anthony tried to one up Pierre in that regard. he just failed to realised that him and Pierre weren’t even in a competition in the first place bc Cherie isn’t marrying Pierre for either love or business, she wants to marry Pierre bc she thinks it will not break her heart as much compared to being married to Anthony. honestly, THIS IS ALL JUST A DOMINO EFFECT OF ONE MISCOMMUNICATION TO ANOTHER.

okay, side note: what was Cece doing out awake at night?? someone is sneaking around aren’t they?????? anyways, now i am desperately hoping for Cecily to come through with this like please help this Idiot Premium™️ make sense of things. and help Cherie see the truth too. bc we all see it, everyone in Stormview sees it, the hedge maze sees it, the tstatue sees it, the fucking raindrops sees Anthony’s feelings for her. Lady Danbury has spelled those words about but she’s still refusing to see it. i am hoping we will know what Cece and Anthony is going to talk about in the extra scene, and i feel like once he tells Cece that he loves Cherie then she will definitely change her stance on this. also if she finds out Cherie’s plans of marrying Pierre??? and then Cece tells Elias??? oof. drama.

god this got a bit long sksksk but then again, my thesis has never been short. Dee, amazing as always, you have me yelling at my phone like a mad woman bc goddamn. that maze scene was definitely NOT what i expected to happen but it for sure was an amazing scene like my heart. is aching. i loved it and i’m also so frustrated bc ugh COMMUNICATE™️ i really want them to just sit and talk and have Cece moderate everything or like let them drink all the truth serum in the world so we can finally know peace sksksks

– TM Anon™️

Omg omg TM Anon hi love! ❤❤❤ Aaaaaa I’m so excited for this! 😍

Hugh and Kenneth yessss! ❤ Well it’s a wedding, the place is very romantic….😏

Oh it’s definitely Elias and Cece😂 Elias made him stand guard by the hallway so that no one would go in, and pulled the best man card and also he knows Anthony is trying to make amends and he’s using that to his advantage a lot 😂

 but i feel like Elias won’t return the favour if ever Anthony and Cherie will one day sneak around before their marriage Lolll nopeee😂 I actually think Elias would legit sabotage their “alone time” before AND after their wedding 😂

I think for Cherie, the most important question of all times is “Are you in love” and she doesn’t even care if they’ve just met 😂

is love always in the air at Stormview? It’s such a romantic place! ❤

She is! Like, she’s sure she’s going to marry Pierre and refuses to listen to anyone 💔 And Lady Danbury knows just how bad of an idea it is, and yet…💔

Cassandra of Troy parallel yes! 😍 I love including parallels in stories😍😏

 SHUT UP SHUT THE FUCK UP. HOLD UP. I NEED TO BREATHEEEE IS THIS GOING BE----WAIT NO. NO NO NO!! ANTHONY NO. GOD NO. GOD FUCKING DAMMIT YOU MORON YOU BLASPHEMOUS IDIOT YOU AAAAAAAAH. SHUT UP SHUT UP SHUT UP !!!! STOP TALKING OMG YOU’RE MAKING IT WORSE !!! I literally cannot stop laughing-

This right here, this was exactly the reaction I was hoping to evoke during Anthony’s speech😂

that moment with Lady Danbury where she saw someone over Cherie’s shoulder, that was Anthony wasn’t it? OH YEAH😏

he is proving to her what he thought she wanted, something logical. that he can provide for her, that he can give her a stable life, children, fortune, etc. i feel like when he heard Cherie said “An adequate life partner.” Anthony is now trying to tell her that he is an adequate life partner and that he is a better adequate life partner than Pierre. when Cherie stated all those things, Anthony basically resulted to: now she wants a logical marriage? i can do logical too. because he’s getting so fucking desperate here.  THIS- THIS-

This analysis omg I’m screaming, this is ABSOLUTELY AMAZING?! 😍😍😍 Darliiiiing! 😱😍

Anthony is scrambling because he doesn’t know what to do anymore. first she wanted love, now she wanted a business matrimony? i can do business.  Exactly! ❤ Oh I have so many ideas about this❤

In my mind, Anthony is actually very used to getting what he wants❤ So far, it went like that for him, he never really had to talk about his feelings or do anything that got him out of his comfort zone, things just work for him ❤

Until Cherie showed up 😂

So his mind is actual chaos rn😂 He wanted her to marry him, and he was going to tell her he loved her, but then everything came crashing down, (not to mention Cherie was really angry at him like you said) so his mind directly went to like, “As an alternative, I can prove why I’d make a better husband logically, like she says she wants” ❤

Deep down he knew she wanted love, but when it came to talking about it, Anthony thought there was an alternative where he could just avoid talking about his feelings, and that thought was also encouraged by “she wants an adequate love partner” and then…

It all went down 😂

how was he supposed to know that what her mouth is speaking is actually different to what’s going through her head? WE are seeing Cherie’s thought process, Anthony is not. Yessss and it’s actively working against him!

these two haven’t had a Real & Honest Conversation™️ not even ONCE. their moments together, they aren’t exactly communicating, they’re just saying words and all are flying over each other’s heads. i mean, Cherie isn’t letting Anthony finish his sentences, Anthony is having a hard time understanding her because she’s saying one thing and then something else the next day but also wanting something else entirely. Oh this is such a good point!

They really need to have a real and honest conversation, exactly! ❤ Like, before they were both in a bubble, they were both “enamored” so they didn’t even think about it, they were so lost in the feeling❤ And now, it’s even more complicated, they’re both very hurt and clueless about what to do, so it’s even more difficult than before❤

Anthony is hearing what Cherie is saying but he isn’t seeing the truth (not that he can bc again, he can’t read minds) Cherie is hearing all this claims from everyone that Anthony loves her but she’s refusing to see the truth OH MY GOD-

This parallel, I haven’t even thought about it before! I’m like freaking out, you’re a genius darling! ❤❤❤

OF COURSE he’s going to be terrified to just say it especially when this is going to be his first time saying it to the person he loves out loud. idk about you guys but confessing powerful feelings to someone is fucking scary, and when that person is angry at you?? mortifying. but also, i feel like he remembered Cherie’s words about not wanting a love marriage anymore hence why she’s marrying Pierre. so Anthony thought, if that’s what she wants i can give her that too and decided last minute to take the business route instead which.....obviously was the wrong choice. DEFINITELY!

Like, he was trying to find a way without him having to open up his heart, and since she claims to want a business marriage…

He didn’t even see how bad it would backfire until Cherie started her own monologue💔

okay, side note: what was Cece doing out awake at night?? someone is sneaking around aren’t they??????

Oh Cece was coming back from Elias’s room😏😂 She was trying to sneak into her own room before she saw Cherie and Anthony ❤

You have no idea how much I love this darling, YOU’RE A GENIUS AND YOU’RE AMAZING AND ILYSM! ❤❤❤ THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOUUU! 😍😱❤❤❤

[icemankazansky]

3, 4, 16, and 18 for the writing meta asks?

Thanks for playing!

3. What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Oh man, I have those all the time. All the time. My brain is constantly dreaming up little scenes or snippets of dialogue, and often they would require like a whole universe. Just yesterday, I was sharing some thoughts and one (briefly sketched, not written written) of the scenes that my mind has been building for a TG OG med AU I will almost certainly never write. None of this is polished or edited.

Mav had to go to med school in the Bahamas bc of his GPA or he fucked up part of the mcat or whatever, and he got licensed in the states no problem but he is defensive and touchy about it. Ice got an MD-PhD because of course he did, and he's extremely serious and dedicated but with a better bedside manner than people think initially.

Ice gives Maverick a speech about having to control your emotions for the patients and their families, and Maverick calls him heartless and actually hits him. Obviously he's in trouble, but then he finds out Ice basically told their supervisor, "It was my fault, 100%, don't blame him" before she told him to shut the fuck up and go get his eye looked at. Maverick goes to see Ice in the locker room to apologize, sees Ice's black eye, and Feels Bad. Angles his face, examines him closely, asks if it hurts. Tells him he never wanted to hurt anyone, especially not him, because—And then they kiss.

4. Share a sentence or paragraph from your writing that you’re really proud of (explain why, if you like)

“Dear God,” he said, and then stopped. He looked at Ice, the familiar shape of his features. He’d know him blind. He would never forget an angle or an expression or a freckle or a scar. He knew Ice’s face better than he knew his own. He was Maverick’s reflection, the reflection in the mirror when Maverick held the glass up to his life.

from The Fulcrum (Top Gun, Iceman x Maverick, Teen)

16. Tried anything new with your writing lately? (style, POV, genre, fandom?)

I recently wrote a fic in second person, but that second person is actually a canon character. I don't think I've ever done that before, and tbh I'm not entirely sure how it came about, but I guess this old dog can learn new tricks.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them.

Answered here!

#asks answered #fic memes #my writing

[hiiraya]

you are my sunshine (rewrite)

masterlist

pairing: wanda maximoff x reader

words: ~1,793

warnings: angst, mentions of injuries, character death

requested:

a/n: i just realised i hadn't posted since my birthday! I figured i should get something out to you guys before the month ends so here's a rewrite from my old account bc uni is currently turning my brain into mush. happy reading!! ♡

The other night dear, as I lay sleeping

It was obvious to everyone around you that you were more of a lover than a fighter.

It was easy – a little too easy sometimes – for you to get lost in your Imagination, dreaming away to your hearts content if nothing in the real world could hold your attention for more than a few minutes.

The fact that you were the type of person who would do anything for anyone when they asked, or just simply because you could didn’t help your case at all.

For the most part you did it to be nice and helpful to the team, but you’d be lying to yourself if you didn’t say that it was also so a certain witch who held your heart would come up to you whenever she needed help with something.

But you weren’t going to admit that just yet. 

-

They always wondered how you did it.

You know that they would never ask it to your face, but you could see how they questioned how easily you could get side-tracked by your imagination, or how you could stay so optimistic and be dreaming of better days when it seemed like the whole world was against you.

After going through so much hurt and suffering, they would’ve thought that you’d turn hard and emotionless, giving up on the world that had given you every reason to stop believing in those who lived in it.

But against all odds, you kept the childlike joy and passion they were sure you would’ve lost years ago. They knew they had.

You were the one Peter would go to when he needed cheering up because he was told that he wasn’t allowed on a mission with the team (not just yet, Tony would kill you if gave the kid false hope, but you always told him that the time will come).

You were the one Bucky would seek out whenever life became a little too much to handle, because you knew just what to say without him having to say a word. “You are more than the sum of your mistakes, Buck.”

You were the one Natasha went to when she wanted someone to talk to just because she knew that she could tell you anything and you would listen, no questions asked.

You were the one they went to simply because they wanted to witness life through your eyes and see that there was still hope and goodness left in this world.

I dreamed I held you in my arms

You pined after her.

Oh boy, did you pine for her.

You dreamed of worlds where she was yours and the both of you were happy; worlds where no one thought of her as a monster, where everyone she’s ever loved was safe; where you could show her just how ethereal and radiant, she was in your eyes.

You dreamed of a world where you made Wanda feel so happy and loved, that she forgets about all the hurt and pain this earth had put her through.

But when I awoke, dear, I was mistaken

As all dreams do, they end, and unfortunately for you, as much as you loved to dream, nothing every came of them.

Those dreams would never become reality. And maybe it was because you were scared of being rejected, of being ridiculed- whatever the reason was that you gave to convince yourself that she could never know.

You don’t know.

You would always be just a friend to her.

So, of course, when you had finally worked up enough courage to do something about your feelings for Wanda after the whole mess that was Ultron, Vision had beaten you to it.

And now it was too late.

Because he was the one who could be there for her in the ways you wanted to. The one who could hold her and kiss her and treat her like you wanted to. The one she would come home to at the end of the day.

But luckily for you (was it luck or was it just a cruel twist of fate?) there was no one else but you that could calm her down.

Whenever the world got a little too loud, you would let her into your mind, conjuring up the few peaceful moments from your life that you held close to you, just for her to see, letting her ground herself back to reality while you sang to her softly.

It was in those moments that you knew, that yes, she had him, you were an irreplaceable part of her life too.

So, I bowed my head and I cried.

Even though everyone had dubbed you as the happy-go-lucky Avenger, you still had those moments where you broke down in the solitude of your room.

You tried hard to convince yourself that you would be fine seeing her with him, but deep down you knew that it broke you down little by little each time you saw Wanda being happy with someone that wasn’t you.

It was a selfish thought to have, and you knew it, so you tried to keep it locked away in the back of your mind.

Without realizing, you had built walls around your mind whenever she was around, letting her in just enough to calm her down but never enough to let her know what you were truly feeling.

You are my sunshine

You found it funny when you found out that people thought of you as the personal sunshine of the Avengers.

If only they knew about your own personal sunshine.

Wanda helped shape you into the person you were, acting as your own personal ray of sunshine that kept you going, shining just as bright as her to keep her happy and shining.

And if she shone a little brighter whenever you would call her your sunshine, then you would continue to call her that for as long as you could.

My only sunshine

“(Y/N), I didn’t know that you could play the piano.” She said with surprise.

The two of you were hanging out in your room when she noticed the piano tucked away in the corner of the room.

You hadn’t mentioned it to anyone before, Tony got it for you when you had mentioned to him that you missed playing when you first joined the team, and if you were being honest, you hadn’t touched it since then.

“That’s because I don’t play it much anymore.” You shrugged as you looked over at the instrument, getting off of your bed and crossing the room to sit on the worn-out seat.

“Can you play for me?”

“Anything for you, sunshine.”

Play the opening chords to your favorite lullaby, you looked at her with such longing and want before forcing your gaze away so she couldn’t see your eyes as you started to sing.

You make me happy, when skies are grey

You look up at her from you place on her lap, where your head is resting against her legs as she ran her fingers through your hair, offering you the best smile she could muster.

You couldn’t tell if it was real or not.

She looks so beautiful, and she doesn’t even know it.

With the sun shining high and bright behind her, chestnut locks framing her face, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone told you that you were looking right at an angel.

You’ll never know dear, how much I love you

Maybe it was because you had fully convinced yourself that she would never feel the same way for you that you had missed on the forlorn gazes she sent your way.

Wanda couldn’t help but feel like she was missing something. Especially when she realized that you had started to block her from going further into your head whenever you let her in your mind as easily as she could before Vision and her had announced that they were together.

She couldn’t help but think back to all the times you would retreat back into your room after she walks into the room with the android; how your light would start to dull when she would bring him up in your conversations; how you seemed to smile less whenever he was around.

She didn’t know what was worse, to lose him or to lose you.

She wouldn’t be able to have a choice in the matter anyway.

You’d never tell her how you felt about her - you hated the feeling of separating people. Simply put, you just didn’t have the heart to say something and ruin the friendship between you and Wanda, or the relationship she had with Vision.

Please don’t take my sunshine away.

“I’m sorry I won’t be there to calm you down, sunshine.” You murmur softly, (e/c) meeting shining emerald ones.

“Don’t say that (Y/N/N). It’s okay,” She says, shaking her head. “Everything’s going to be okay. You’re going to be fine.”

You ignore her words for the first time as your breath hitches in your throat, wincing as she presses her hand harder against the wound on your stomach.

It wasn’t supposed to end this way. Just a simple recon mission to go into an abandoned Hydra base and gather intel that turned out to be a trap to lure your team in.

You were blindsided. All of you were.

“I’m sorry I can’t make this better. I’m sorry that I won’t be there to cheer you and the rest of the team up when you get back home. Tell them I’m sorry that I couldn’t say goodbye.” You manage to get out between breaths.

You had to get your apologies out now before it was too late.

Before there was no breath left in you to apologize to the one woman you swore to yourself you would never hurt.

The one woman you would love no matter what.

“We’re going to get you out of here, (Y/N). Just hold on for me.” She begs desperately, tears starting to stream down her cheeks as she lifted her head to shout for help.

You reach your hand up to cup her cheek, pulling her back down to look at you before you start humming the familiar tune you would sing to her after a rough night of nightmares.

Placing her hand over yours, she leaned into your touch, refusing to accept the fact that you were slipping away right in front of her eyes.

An anguished sob left her mouth while her tears fell harder as she watched you close your eyes for the last time, gasping for air as she manages to choke out the last line.

“Please don’t take my sunshine away.”

—

taglist:

@ladyeliot

#wanda maximoff x reader #scarelet witch x reader #wanda x reader #avengers x readers #scarlet witch imagine #wanda maximoff imagine #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #myfics.txt

[onlyswan]

happiness | jjk

→ pairing: jungkook x reader

→ genre: angst, fluff (???)

→ warnings: ig it’s jus really toxic

→ word count: 1.1k

summary: no one teaches you what to do when a good man hurts you, and you know you hurt him, too.

note: it’s 3am and i’m hurting and idk why i’m doing this and it’s probably horrible bc i wrote it in like 30 mins without proofreading but here we are

---

it just didn’t work out. it’s simple as that. the easiest way to put things, to explain how your relationship came to a conclusion. you’ve always hated hearing those words from other people, but you get it now. it’s vague, but also says that you weren’t just compatible for each other. it saves you from further questions. it gives you the perfect opportunity to walk away from the topic.

on the other hand, they are difficult to say without your voice cracking or your eyes darting around to avoid meeting everyone else’s gaze. because it’s sad and painful. some would even say tragic.

you gave jungkook your all. he knows it, and everybody knows it. if it were only possible to fish for the stars or bring home the moon to him, you would’ve done it. the love, respect, and appreciation you have for jungkook are beyond your ability to express or comprehend. your heart swells at the mere sight of him smiling, and you could swear it bursts and jumps out of your chest when he does anything for you. be it hold your hand when you are nervous, give you a massage when you complain about your back pain (you complain every damn day), or sing you back to sleep when you have a bad dream even though he is at the other side of the world. he took such great care of you. he makes you so fucking happy that it started to scare you.

i don’t deserve him. it would enter your mind often, at the most random moments. you started to overthink and analyze every little thing, scrutinizing yourself and your actions. how did he manage to stay by my side all these time? these kind of thoughts fostered in your mind until you found yourself sabotaging the best thing that has ever happened to you. it was your fault. it’s your stupid damn need to feel like you’ve earned the good things you get in life because you went through so much pain to achieve them. and that was just never the case with jungkook. he promised that he would never do anything to hurt you or damage your relationship, and he lived by that promise all these time.

are you satisfied now? you had something so great but you just had to pull yourself back to this miserable dark place of lonesomeness.

but jungkook… he knows you all too well. you underestimate the affection he has for you. he was mystified by you since the moment you met. with all the time you spend together, he listens and he observes. one of the biggest, most important thing he learned is that you are stubborn. you despise being told what to do. once you set your mind on something, you will stand by it no matter what.

of course, he tried his best to stop you from leaving that night. he was fucking terrified of losing you. he knew that he was also at fault. he noticed something was wrong. you are the strongest person he’s ever met and he is the only person you trust with your most vulnerable moments. he should’ve been there to hold you, to protect you. he should’ve been there. but he wasn’t. and he will continue to beat himself up for that.

so he gave you some time. he figured you just needed some time to reflect on what you really want, and then he will come to you. to spend the rest of your lives together or see you again one last time. and dear god does he hope it doesn’t end up as the latter. he doesn’t know how he managed to stop himself from calling you or coming over at your apartment everyday. well, actually, the members did. he begged them to help him contain myself but damn was he pissed when they did do what he asked for.

and now he is at your door. you haven’t seen him in about a month. his eyes are shining, glassy with tears. not the usual bright sparkles that could be compared to the galaxies. he is just so relieved that you’ve been taking care of yourself, and that you haven’t slammed the door on his face and ran away.

“why are you here?” you whisper, your voice shaking.

“y/n,” your name has always sounded and tasted so sweet. “i just need- i just need to know if you meant what you said.”

you freeze. so many words came out of your mouth that night that you don’t even know which one he meant. guilt and regret comes rushing to you again, and it makes you feel sick to your stomach. the past weeks are the longest you didn’t hear his voice, but having him infront of you sounding so broken is killing you. “what did i say, jungkook?”

“that you hate me, y/n. you told me you hate me.” the word hate has always held so much weight for the both of you. he hasn’t slept well thinking about you saying that to him that night.

“no, no. i’m so sorry. i’m so fucking sorry. i didn’t mean it at all.” you admit in defeat. you can’t hold back your crying anymore. “i love you. so much. but i hate myself and i can’t bear it anymore. i’m ruining myself and i don’t want you to witness that. i just-”

jungkook pulls you in for a warm and tight embrace. god, he missed you so much. “shhh, stop. it’s okay. i understand.” he attempts to calm down your sobs. you nestle your face on the crook of his neck and breathe him in. there’s nowhere you feel more safe and secure. he pulls away a bit to hold your face between his hands. “i love you. i love you. you don’t have to deal with this alone. we can work this out, okay? you have me. you will always have me.”

you nod and he smiles, wiping your tears away with his thumbs. he pecks your lips softly before hugging you again. “i’m sorry, jungkook. i really am. i’ll be better and i’ll make it up to you.” you mutter against his shirt.

“stay with me forever. that’s all i’ll ever need.”

#jungkook #bts #bts fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook drabble #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook smut #bts jk

[coraskeeper]

 ⤑ 𝘥𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘴/𝘰

⤑ ft: shinsou, tamaki, kirishima, denki, fem!r

⤑ warnings: facesitting, unprotected seggs (don’t try this at home), choking, oral(m&f receiving), dumbification, slight femdom themes (only for tamaki), mastrubation, crying, use of the word cock bc it makes me giggle

⤑ file type: scenarios, smut

⤑ wc: 2.3k

⤑ an: def wanna write a whole shinsou smut now :’)

⤑ last edited: 1.25.21

⤑ 𝘦𝘪𝘫𝘪𝘳𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘢

his obsession with his best friends girlfriend started out innocent 

he wouldn’t say he was in love with you, more like a kiddie crush 

just wanting to be around you and that heart warming presence of yours all it took was for you to simply ask him how he was or, what he wanted to do saying that his opinion mattered just as much as anyone else 

it might’ve been then he fell for you, your interest in him was genuine, not many people cared much for his input on anything really 

not that he minded- it just felt nice, to know that someone had what he would think in mind

he liked you and if he ever got the chance he’d give you the world, but your world was bakugo and he respected that

but all it took was walking in on you and bakugo getting hot and heavy for his thoughts of you to become way less than innocent 

bakugos large hands splayed across your bare ass cheeks as he helped you move up and down along his shaft

your chest pressed into his as you released the most heavenly moans he’d even heard in his life 

your wavering whines telling his friend how you couldn’t take anymore but your hips still hopelessly bucking against his

now anytime the poor boy seen you his face flushed red and he’d cut your conversations short out of the guilt of have seen you naked without your knowledge

he felt bad that just the sound of your voice made him so hard it hurt and he’d have no other choice but to relieve himself 

thinking of you large hand palming himself through his boxers 

his head falling back in relief in his mind you tasted so sweet, he’d always wondered what you tasted like, or what you’d look like sitting on his face begging for him. he just knew you’d look ethereal.

his gripped your hips hard, helping you move your sopping cunt along his mouth, one of your hands threading themselves through his bright red locks giving them a tug.

tears falling from your eyes as you whine asking him to let you breathe just for a second, yet your body betrayed you, your hips rutting against his mouth with the little energy you had left, “ please kiri, i can’t “

his eyes coming to stare up at you lovingly, his lips releasing your clit, “ ‘cmon sweetheart, i know you’ve got one more left “

ruby eyes staring up at you as he flattened his tongue against your clit again, your face was sinful paired with your pretty moans falling from your lips as your hips rutted down harder against his mouth, body shaking before collapsing with a sweet whine of his name.

his hands rubbing soothing circles against your pelvic bone, “ what a good girl you are “.

knees weak, his muscular back arched off the cold wood of the head board as he cupped himself softly, spurts of hot cum soiling the inside of his boxers, “ i want.. to taste her “

⤑ 𝘵𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪 𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘫𝘪

he was actually terrified of you for a while before you became friends

you intimidated him to say the least

you and your boyfriend were very like minded, which would explain your random relationship with mirio

your presence was warm, and you often jumped into things head first and took everything that came your way with nonchalant attitude

though, your temper seemed to be a lot shorter and you were a lot more, uh- assertive for sure

he hadn’t known when it was he fell in love with you but no can say he never tried to prevent it

maybe it was when you’d make sure he got home safe, putting his life before yours on missions and coming to save his ass even when you needed to be saved yourself

or it might’ve been something as trivial as telling a waiter they got his order wrong at a restaurant

he wasn’t sure, but he was in too deep now and he was okay with just being your friend because you and mirio loved each other

he did pretty well at hiding his feelings for a while, 

well-

until he received a butt dial from his dear blond friend

at first there was silence and maybe some ruffling here and there, he’d contemplated hanging up until he heard mirio’s quiet whimpering from the other side of the cellphone

in a flustered haze he continued to listen, hearing your sultry voice loud and clear

low and stern, saying that if mirio wasn’t patient you wouldn’t let him cum at all, the blond boy begging for you and promising that he’d be good

he hadn’t mean to keep thinking about the phone call after that day but he couldn’t help but imagine what it be like underneath you and those attentive hands in the heat of the night

he tried not to touch himself at first- the guilt being too much, but your frequent visits to his dreams were becoming too much to deal with on top of his soiled sheets

so now- tamaki relieves himself of you the only way he knows how

your warm hand wrapped around his throbbing length trailing teasing kisses up his thighs, edging closer and closer to where he needed you, “you can cum again, can’t you tama? “

his lower half was starting to tingle almost painfully, the line between pain and pleasure was blurring, his eyes unfocused and body flushed in sweat, but he was so eager to take all that you were giving him, eager to be a good boy for you.

“ y-your mouth- bunny please “

he felt almost ashamed, yet the twitching of his ear and the lustful voice you used when you spoke was enough to spur him and the swirling heat in his stomach.

he wanted to be grateful and take all that you were offering to give him, anything to please you. anything to make you praise him.

the wetness of your mouth was all too surreal, he could almost feel your warm mouth sucking his cock into your throat, losing control bucking his hips up into your mouth with a whine, “ fuck, yes- ‘s good “

your pretty orbs staring up at him as he let out loud moans, his feet digging themselves into the bed sheets to fuck himself into your mouth at a harsh enough pace to give you a sore throat later.

his free hand slapping over his mouth, shaking body arching off the bed and knees clamping shut as he came with a tired scream of your name under his hand.

hot liquid dripping down his stomach and leaking from the tip of his softening length.licking the head of his already overstimulated cock, “ what a good boy you are, isn’t that right tama? “

his body falling limp with a whimper, “ i.. feel so dirty “

⤑ 𝘩𝘪𝘵𝘰𝘴𝘩𝘪 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘰

you and his friend midoriya were polar opposites

you were smart mouthed and sarcastic, blunt and insensitive and you were always picking fights with him

though with time, he had begun to grow quite fond with you, a crush maybe

starting to indulge in petty arguments with you and push your buttons more often to see that cute face you made when you were frustrated

just when he came to terms that he developed a bit of attraction to you, you started to plague his mind in more ways than one

in all honesty- he did no more than merely acknowledge your current relationship with his friend

if he wanted you, he'd have you. it was as simple as that

he would never make passes at you simply because he liked you, he was fine with the distance between you both

but he’d figured his friend would have enough sense to know when and where was the right time to get hot and heavy with you

you sat between izuku’s legs, tongue lapping at his glistening cock pitifully, body shaking and tears streaming down your face

the way you could barely speak stunned him- you’d always had something to say

pleading the green haired boy to fuck you, give you some kind of stimulation

shinso watched you both shamelessly, retiring for the night with you and your submissiveness heavy on the brain

after the incident, he’d let you take control of his desires, taking cold showers to relieve himself of the stress you’d cause him from then on

he’d have his hand wrapped around your throat for sure, just barely cutting off your air circulation, hips snapping up into your ass in a pace that had your head spinning and spit dripping from the bottom of your chin.

desperately trying to turn your face away from the mirror in embarrassment, “ look at my pretty slut, drooling for me “, his fingernails digging into your cheeks and holding your head in place so you could watch how your body wreathed in pleasure from him and him alone.

he’d already made you cum with just his cock alone, not giving you time to collect yourself after each orgasm. his strokes deep and harsh, bruising the insides of your walls and his teeth leaving marks all over your neck- you had nowhere to run.

you were powerless and had no other choice but to take him whole, “ ‘nt t-take- no more “. your fingers grasping at the bathroom counter to prevent you from flopping face first into the sink.

“ he cant fuck you like this “, the loud wet smacking against your ass became impossibly louder, “ fucking yourself stupid on my dick- fuuck “

his teeth catching his bottom lip hard enough to break the skin, wet strands of purple hair sticking to his forehead.

thumb pressing down on the tip of his cock edging himself once again trying to control his moans of pure ecstasy at the thought of overstimulating you until you could no longer speak basic english, “ i wanna feel that pretty mouth of hers, too “

⤑ 𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘬𝘪 𝘬𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘳𝘪

he knew how wrong it was wrong but, it was his guilty pleasure

you were always so sweet to him, cradling his head to your chest when the others would pick on him and such

all of his friends took a liking to you as seros girlfriend and accepted you into their friend group

you grew especially close to denki, who happened to have a similar personality as you

the inevitable happened- of course, the classic love cliche

 he knew you loved sero and he’d never come between you two but he just couldn’t help himself

once sero had been trying to show him a couple of pictures on his phone, swiping too far 

accidentally showing denki a very vulgar photo of you

tears in your pretty eyes and your hands tied behind your back with your ass wiggling in the air

a godly arch and seros hand in the center of your back taunting him every time the image plagued his brain

the flash of the camera making your gorgeous cunt glisten 

so here he was, late into the night with his bottom lip tucked between his teeth and quiet groans heavy in his chest

sweats and boxers pulled down just low enough for his erection to leak precum against his stomach

shutting his eyes and tilting his head back to let his mind run wild, stroking himself slowly

you’d looked so pretty laid out beneath him legs pressed into your chest and tears of pleasure falling out of your eyes. his tongue catching each one before they could trail down and mix with the sheer layer of sweat on your sweet skin.

your pretty whines for him spurred him on, crying and moaning for him to ruin you in anyway he wanted, to take care of you because no one else could do it the way he did. he thought it was so mean of him to make you cry but you looked so angelic to him crying tears of joy all for his cock, all for him.

“ please, kaminari “, your pretty lips swollen as he leaned down to press another kiss to your mouth thrusting himself deeper into your fluttering cunt, “ don’t worry princess- gonna pump you full of cum “

his cock hitting the special spot inside your warmth, filling you up so good you could just scream, he might leave bruise on the back of your knees and an aching pain in your hips from how rough he was fucking into you.

your scorching insides sucking him back in each time, just imagining the pulse of your pussy was driving him crazy, “ look at this pretty pussy taking me so well- gonna take good care of her “

he could almost feel your arousal dripping down his lower abdomen, your hands pulling at his messy blond hair in ecstasy, your lovely voice calling out for him, “ please kami, take good care of me “

“ kami “

“ kami “

his hips jolting up into his hand harshly as he came, cum spilling over his fingertips, releasing a heavy pant wishlist brushing stray strands of his blond hair away from his face, “ fuuck, please “ 

tags:

#x poc!reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #x female reader #shinsou x reader #denki x reader #kirishima x reader #tamaki x reader #tamaki amakiji #denki kaminari #kirishima ejirou #shinsou hitoshi #bnha smut #cockandcarrots nottaclosetfreak

[spacedikut]

my all ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary:  “hey could i do a fic request for an x spencer? could u maybe do something with really touchstarved spencer (bc germaphobia) and him being at first too awkward to go n cuddle and then as he gains more confidence he gets much more touchy and huggy and stuff? and reader being shocked by how cuddly he is? plzplzplz? its totally ok if u dont write it but just wanted to send in the request!” 2689 words

a/n: i hope i did this justice! i love spencer reid!!!!!!!!!

masterlist

Spencer first realised how much he loves your touch after a case where he put himself directly in danger.

You ran up, flung your arms around him and pulled him against you so tightly he felt winded.

He was shocked, stunned, and everything in between, but the most important thing is that he hugged back. It felt natural, the right thing to do, and his arms felt so snug and perfect around you his heart stuttered.

You pulled back, noticed his expression, and winced despite his reciprocation, “Sorry. I just. You could’ve died, you moron. You scared me.”

All he did was give you a breathless smile and with a squeeze of his shoulders you let go, allowing him to get checked by a medic.

Spencer struggled to sleep on the jet home, plagued by the thoughts of you - you with your arms around him, how much he enjoyed how it felt.

It felt… wrong to like it as much as he did. Like, in theory, enjoying your physical touch went against his moral code – as a germaphobe, the thought of having to come into contact with anyone in any way makes him want to vomit. But, with you?

You smelt so good, even after running for God knows how long. You were so soft, yet so firm, so warm and welcoming and dear God Spencer has never wanted to touch every inch of someone so bad in his life.

The case was a rough one, so Garcia was waiting for you all with loving eyes and a pitiful smile, arms wide open for whoever may need it. Spencer instantly decides no thanks, but you swoop in and cuddle up to Garcia within seconds of seeing her.

You even place a series of kisses against her cheek, and Spencer is transported back to your hug.

If he was more like Garcia, open to any form of love as long as it’s love, would you have kissed him like that?

His pulse quickens, palms get sweaty and he has to clear his throat to bring himself back to Earth.

He can’t afford to think like that.

But your lips…

No. Paperwork? Let’s do that and not think about a colleague’s lips.

+++

You’re furious.

You told Spencer to wait for backup, to not do anything stupid or irrational and definitely do NOT go in there alone, genius!

And what did he do?

He didn’t wait for backup, did something very stupid and irrational, and definitely went in alone.

And now he’s dealing with a hefty concussion and flurry of other injuries; cuts, scratches, and bruises alike all dotted over him like he’s a connect-the-dots drawing.

The second he wakes up, you’re gonna kill him.

For the time being, you’ll gently thread your fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp, and watch his chest rise and fall to ensure he’s alive and breathing.

“Mmm,” A groan, “That feels nice.”

His eyes flutter open. You lean towards the table next to him, pick up the bottle of water and the jello cup, and offer him both.

“Thanks,” He says, hoarsely.

You sit back in your chair. Spencer doesn’t take his eyes off you once. Not when he drinks the whole bottle of water, or when he cracks open the jello and inhales it with one slurp.

Your brows furrow.

“You’re banned from work until you’re fully healed.”

“I’m suspended?!” He guffaws.

“No,” You shake your head, “I’m personally telling you you’re not welcome back until you’re okay.”

“I’m okay now.”

“Do a backflip, genius.”

Spencer giggles, “I can’t do that in peak physical condition, Y/N.”

“Sounds like a cop out to me. So, again, you’re banned from work until you’re fully healed.”

He considers fighting back, but then he remembers what you were doing when he woke up, what he felt when he woke up.

He was confused and, you know, in pain, but there was this tender and soft, repetitive touch that immediately eased him. His subconscious knew it was you, in all your glory and sweetness, that had stayed with him for however long, looking after him even when he wasn’t conscious to know it.

So he just keeps staring at you, spoonful of jello in his mouth.

+++

When you get to Spencer’s place, he looks around like it’s his first time seeing it – awe and wonder painted on his face.

Everything he’s doing, everything he’s going through, you’re putting it all down to his concussion.

On the way here, he told you the whole history of car air fresheners after taking a good five seconds to get a good sniff of the cherry blossom scent you have.

“Let’s get you settled in, huh?” You say quietly, guiding Spencer to his bedroom. He walks a little like a mummy, kinda stumpy and heavy, and he flops on the bed.

You give a lopsided grin as you watch him. He’s mumbling incoherently, shuffling up to the top of his bed to fall flat on his back.

He moans.

“Alright, alright,” You placate, “Let me go… gather some things.”

You don’t know Spencer’s place all that well, so it takes you a while to find even the simplest things like a glass, a flannel, a snack. You get lost in snooping around, trying not to profile him, and the one thing you deduct is his apartment is so him. So Spencer, so lovely and comforting and a little odd.

You can’t get enough.

There’s a weak call from his bedroom: “Y/N?”

“Coming!”

He hasn’t moved an inch from where you left him. He looks so pitiful, bruised eyes and a cut right through his lip, and you almost coo at him.

“I’m not a good cook, so I thought we could order some food later.” You hand him the water and gesture for him to drink. “In the meantime, you need to rest. Mind if I borrow a book while I keep you company?”

You turn to leave, but Spencer’s voice makes you pause.

“Could you play with my hair again?”

A part of you wants to say no, like this is some overly intimate thing he’s asking, but then you remind yourself that he’s injured, which has reverted him to acting like a sleepy child.

“Please?” He looks at you with glassy eyes and he looks adorable, “Only for a little while.”

You say nothing, sliding into bed next to him. He scoots over a little to make more room for you, curling into you before your back hits the bed entirely. One hand rests above the covers, naturally placed on his arm, thumb smoothing him back and forth. The other, the one wrapped around his head, cards through his lightly tangled hair, all warm and loving.

He falls asleep instantly and, not long after, you fall asleep, too.

You both dream of eachother and wake up blushing.

+++

Spencer’s back in work within four days. You’re working a new case the second you arrive.

There’s been a shift in your dynamic and everyone’s noticed it. No one questions it, however, because they’re all aware you looked after him while he was away, and they witnessed how worried you were when you found him, but they can’t help but ogle and whisper.

They might be federal agents, but gossip is gossip and they love it.

You’ve noticed it, too, obviously. JJ tried to tease you about it, after Spencer bought you your favourite coffee and morning muffin on the way to the precinct, but you shut her down (and yourself from thinking about it too much) by reminding her you spent several days caring for him. He’s repaying you, even though you’ve told him he doesn’t need to.

Ever heard of transference, JJ?

A shiver runs through you as you look into the interrogation room. It’s not because of the suspect, though, it’s because the AC has been turned up – a tactic Hotch promises will be worth it despite your chattering teeth.

Something’s wrapped around you, suddenly, light but cosy and adds some heat to you that you need.

It’s a cardigan. Grey, much too big for you, the sleeves falling way beyond your arms and length reaching your mid-thigh. There’s a little red heart with eyes stitched on the left breast.

It’s Spencer’s.

“You’re shivering,” Spencer chastises, seemingly appearing from nowhere, “You know, when we shiver, it’s our bodies doing the opposite of sweating – it tightens the skin and shakes the muscles, a process that conserves and generates heat. We shiver to get warm. Do you not have a coat?”

“Alright, dad,” You tease, “It’s in the conference room. I wasn’t prepared for Hotch to make the unsub an icicle.”

Spencer breathes a laugh, moving closer to reach an arm around you. His other hand presses against your bicep, his grip sturdy as he vigorously rubs up and down your arms to generate heat.

Whoa.

It certainly works. You feel hot, suddenly, but not because of the cardigan or whatever the hell he’s doing, because Spencer has voluntarily touched you and is standing so close you feel like you’re on fire from the inside out. You’re sure your heart skips a beat and you stare at him in bewilderment.

He shrugs, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world, “My mom used to do that for me when I was young and got cold. I thought you’d appreciate it.”

You give a shy smile, “Yeah, I appreciate it a lot, Spence. Thanks.”

When Hotch leaves the interrogation room, he half-halts when he sees you in Spencer’s cardigan. It’s the perfect Hotch reaction, combined with the rise of an eyebrow as he walks past you to reconvene with the team.

You don’t take it off when you all walk back to the conference room, and Spencer doesn’t ask for it back.

Everyone notices. A lot of eye contact is made with many questions silently asked.

You and Spencer pretend not to notice.

+++

There’s a knock on your door at precisely 10:12pm. You check because your first instinct is if I’m about to get robbed, I’m making sure the timestamps are correct.

It’s not a robber. It’s Spencer – frazzled, wrapped up all nice and warm like a pretty present, Spencer Reid.

His nose is slightly red from the biting cold outside.

Leaning against your doorframe, you say, “Hey there,”

“Hi,” He waves.

You stare for a couple of seconds, then remember the polite thing to do is invite him in: “Come in, come in! Do you want some tea? You look cold.”

“Coffee would be great, thank you.”

You move to your kitchen, not very far from your front door, but Spencer stays put and awkwardly glances around your place. He loves it, he decides. Very you.

You notice he hasn’t moved, “Make yourself comfortable, Spence. My cat is somewhere if you want to say hi.”

He slowly moves to your couch, removing his coat, scarf and satchel as he does it. Two drinks in hand, you join him and fling your fluffy sock-clad feet onto your coffee table.

“So what can I help you with?” You ask.

Spencer takes a sip of his burning drink, “What makes you think I want something?”

“Why else would you be here? You wanna watch Grey’s Anatomy with me?”

Spencer laughs lightly. You’re right. He’s here for a reason that isn’t to watch TV that he loves to correct with you.

He’s quiet, then, and does that thing where his tongue flicks out to lightly wet his lips in nervousness.

“Something’s been going on.” He starts, ambiguously, “And it’s left me asking a lot of questions.”

Your brows furrow. It’s not like Spencer to be cryptic like this.

“Did it mean anything?” He asks, finally, turning to look at you. “Any of it?”

“Did what mean anything?”

“The.. the playing with the hair, the over-all gentleness, the cuddling.”

Your shoulders tighten up and you hope he doesn’t notice.

He does.

“Spence,” You give a fake laugh, “You were hurt and I was comforting you. Looking after you. You know, like a friend does.”

“No one else did as much as you.”

“You wanted comfort, and I’m more than happy to provide that, Spence. Everyone else was busy.”

“You took time off for me.”

You don’t have an answer for that.

You’re trying to keep the conversation light and breezy to not show your true feelings. You’re not ready for that kind of conversation, but he’s right. You used your vacation days to stay with him and care for him.. and you know you didn’t do it platonically.

“You’re my friend, Spence,” You say, voice soft.

“That’s it? That’s all it was?” He doesn’t sound angry, or hurt, maybe peeved. He won’t look you in the eyes, though.

“What else would it be?”

Spencer scoffs.

He moves away from you, hands running through his hair in exasperation when he lets out a breath.

“We cuddled, Y/N. I haven’t done that with anyone in-in years! The last person was my mother when I was ten years old!”

“That’s supposed to mean something?!”

“I-I don’t know,” He sounds exhausted, as if the complications of his emotions are taking way too much energy out of him, “But I really liked it. And I really like you.”

You look at him, then, and he’s staring back. He looks… hopeful.

“I really like you, Y/N.”

You swallow deeply.

“I tried to show you with the uh, the cardigan thing,” He scratches the back of his neck, a laugh to mock himself leaving him, “But I’ve never been good with that stuff.”

He moves closer, shifting to face you, eyes remaining locked with yours.

“Say something.” He whispers.

“I-I-“ You stutter, “Are you sure?”

“Of course I am. I’ve spent the last week thinking about it non-stop.”

“Really?” You laugh in disbelief.

“Yeah!” He gives a small smile, “I-uh.. wrote to my mom about you, too. She told me that if I’m this caught up on you, you must be special. Which you are, by the way.”

“I’m special?” You grin teasingly.

“Very special.”

There’s a moment where you think he’s going to kiss you, but instead he shyly asks, “Do you feel the same?”

You bite your lip. “I do. Really, I do. I’m just.. a little apprehensive, I guess.”

“Of what?”

“It’s stupid.”

“Nothing is stupid when it comes to you.”

God, he’s so infuriatingly sweet. You wish you could kiss him all over.

You might be able to, if all this goes well.

“I don’t want things to be weird if we don’t work out.” You admit, adding a shrug to appear casual. It’s not like you’ve worried about this since you realised you liked him.

Spencer tilts his head at you, “You’re already thinking about a breakup when we haven’t even gone on a first date?”

You giggle, which he returns with a smile, “I mean- I like you, Spence, and have for a while. I’ve thought about all outcomes.”

“All?”

You roll your eyes as he gives you a look, “Yes, all. I’d want us to work out but.. what if we don’t?”

He places a now warmed up hand on yours, “Well, we won’t know unless we try, right?” His hold tightens, “I’m willing to give it my all if you are.”

You look from your hands to his face, and decide yes, if there’s one risk you want to take in your life, it’s a risk that could possibly result in you spending the rest of your life with your favourite person on this planet.

So you nod.

“I’ll give you my all, and then some.”

He grins, “That’s quite the promise.”

You don’t reply, instead swinging your legs over his lap and leaning into his side to cuddle up to him. He reciprocates like it’s second nature, hand slipping from yours to wrap around your waist and tug you closer.

“Wanna watch Star Trek as a mini first date?” You look up at him through your eyelashes.

You really are perfect for me, Spencer thinks.

“Yes. Yes I do.”

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #mine #thank u to everyone who has sent a request i promise ive seen it #i kinda hate how the confession is written but im tired n feeling d*pressed and anxious #so take it pls

[jaskierswolf]

Hello there Wolfie 💜 Can we get some post-mountain angry Jaskier? Geralt knows he’s messed up big time bc Jaskier is using his full name. We love Geralt Roger Eric du Haute-Bellegarde 🤣👌🏼

(And maybe they kiss and make up? 🥺)

Hiya Dani! Yes you absolutely can! Did I write this about a week ago and forget to post? Maybe... Geraskier, 1252 words.

CW: Much swearing

________

Jaskier sipped from his wine goblet, not looking up when the tavern went eerily silent and the doors flew open. He was well acquainted with this particular kind of silence. He’d followed Geralt around for more than half his life now. This silence was the kind that only occurred when a witcher walked into the room, and only two days after the blasted dragon hunt… he knew exactly which witcher it was.

His heart ached in his chest and he downed the last of his wine, poking his food around his plate with his fork. He couldn’t deal with Geralt right now, and if Geralt had meant his cruel words then he wouldn’t have to. Geralt didn’t want him, not even as a friend. What a fucking waste of his life? He couldn’t have found a kinder witcher to fall in love with, could he? Even Valdo Marx hadn’t been this cruel, and their falling out had been legendary. Oxenfurt students and faculty still spoke of it to this day.

“Jaskier?” Geralt’s low growl sent the usual shiver down his spine but he stoically ignored it, preferring instead to stab at his food.

“Guess you didn’t get your blessing,” he mumbled.

“Guess not.”

Jaskier hoped it would be the end of the conversation so he could lick his wounds in peace, but Geralt of fucking Rivia had other plans. The witcher slid onto the bench next to him and a fresh goblet of wine was pushed across the table. Jaskier looked up, flicking the fringe from his eyes so Geralt could see the full extent of his glare.

“Still here, witcher?”

Geralt hummed. At least he had the decency to look guilty, like a puppy that had been thrown from the house. “I’m…” he paused with a grimace and Jaskier scoffed. Of course he would struggle to apologise. He had no problem whatsoever in tearing Jaskier’s heart to shreds but one teensy apology had him stumbling over his words.

“You’re what?” Jaskier snapped “Sorry?” Another scoff. “What for, perhaps the punch in the gut when I’d done nothing wrong? Or maybe, witcher, you’re sorry for never admitting that we’re friends? Better yet, you’re sorry for almost tearing out my vocal coords with your ill-worded wish, oh and whilst we’re on the subject, Geralt Roger Eric Du-Haute!”

Geralt winced, looking smaller than Jaskier could ever remember seeing him.

“Fucking djinn wishes, fucking sorceresses,” tears were streaming down Jaskier’s cheeks now, but strangely enough it wasn’t the heartbreak causing them.

He was fucking livid. Years and years of pent up anger, making excuses and following the witcher around like a lost puppy, all coming to a head. He didn’t bother to wipe away the tears, instead he poked Geralt hard in the chest. “You have the audacity to blame your troubles on me when every single one traces. back. to. you!”

“Jaskier…”

Jaskier was breathing heavily by the end of his rant. “I didn’t make you call the Law of Surprise, witcher,” he added more quietly, his anger subsiding as sobs threatened to take over.

Gods he was a fucking mess.

“I just thought.. if you could see me perform in court, at a Royal Court, you’d finally see me as more than a nuisance. I thought you would be proud of me,” his eyes darted across the room, flickering between the patrons and he told himself small stories about each one in his head.

The man in the corner with the jagged twisted scars down one arm, he’d rescued his lover from a burning building. They’d been childhood sweethearts and been married the following spring.

The barmaid, juggling an impossible amount of tankards and goblets on a tray. She had wanted to runaway and join the circus but her father had caught her in the middle of the night.

The pretty red-head with a long plait down their back and freckles dusting their cheeks. They had dreamed of swimming with mermaids…

... of the coast.

Fuck.

Jaskier’s heart clenched, and he had to bite down on the insides of his cheeks to stop himself from sobbing. His throat ached and his tears were now dripping onto the table like a fucking waterfall.

“And then you tied yourself to Yennefer, no wonder we could never fucking escape her,” he muttered bitterly. “I had to watch time and time again whilst you tore each other apart, but it wasn’t my fault, Geralt.”

“I know,”

Jaskier snorted. “You wanted the djinn, not me.”

“I know,” Geralt repeatedly earnestly “and fuck, Jask. If I could take it all back I would, but I can’t. Not even Yennefer’s magic is that powerful.”

Jaskier looked up at Geralt with watery eyes. “I only ever wanted you to see me.”

“I. I did,” Geralt admitted, reaching across the table to take Jaskier’s hand. The touch burnt his skin and he wanted to pull away, stay angry at the witcher, but dearest Melitele he was weak. He let Geralt touch him, hold his hand like it didn’t stab daggers into his hurt. “I could never look away. You were. You are my sun. Too bright. It blinded me. I could never hold you down, never darken your light.”

Jaskier, for the second time in two days, was speechless. He only managed a strangled laugh, running his hand through his hair in disbelief. “Fuck me,” he breathed. “I’m supposed to be the poet, Geralt.”

Geralt chuckled, rubbing small circles into Jaskier’s hand. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”

“Good,” Jaskier said a little too quickly, but gripped Geralt’s hand tighter before he could pull away, lacing their fingers together. “I just need some time, my dear,” he added more softly.

Geralt nodded. “I know.”

“And you’d better treat me right this time,” Jaskier laughed, no real bite to his tone, it was a warning but one that he hoped Geralt didn’t need.

Perhaps he was being naive but he was in love, and Geralt had said he was sorry.

Geralt nodded, looking nothing but sincere, an adorable crease between his brows. “I swear.”

Jaskier flicked the fringe from his eyes, managing a weak smile. He could still feel the tear tracks on his cheeks. “Gods, look at me I’m a mess.”

Geralt just cupped his cheek, wiping the tears away. “You look beautiful.”

Jaskier scoffed, shaking his head and trying to hide his traitorous smile. “Don’t go soft on me now, Geralt.”

“Can I kiss you?” Geralt asked quietly, golden eyes shining with hope that was just too much for Jaskier’s poor heart.

He nodded without words, and Geralt pressed a soft, fucking ridiculously tender, kiss on Jaskier’s lips. Jaskier barely had time to close his eyes before Geralt pulled away, and yet it still had his head spinning. He fell forward slightly as Geralt’s lips left his, chasing the kiss he’d been dreaming of for decades. He felt as if his world had turned upside down, and there was a teensy part of him that was furious. He really had meant to stay mad at Geralt for longer, but when he opened his eyes and saw that stupidly soft smile on Geralt’s face… fuck if he wasn’t going to love this man for as long as he lived.

“Not forgiven you,” he muttered, trying desperately to hold on to his control of the situation. He needed that for his sanity.

Geralt hummed, and pressed their foreheads together. “Take as long as you need, Jask. I’ll wait for you."

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #wolfie's witcher writing #suddenly-a-twilight-blog