#i hate this presentation format so much sobs

[bloomingbluebell]

20 seconds is not enough time for my AuDHD brain to ramble!!!! aaaaa!!!!!!!!!!

#i hate this presentation format so much sobs #GIVE ME NORMAL POWERPOINT!!!!!!!!!! #it doesnt even switch at exactly 20 seconds i need to check that out #because im using the timer in presenter mode to know how much time i have until the slide changes #and everytime im like NOW MOVING ON- #its too much time to get my speaker notes out but not enough time to ramble #LET ME RAMBLE!!!!!!!!!! #LET ME SPILL TEA ON HOW THE ANTI-AGING INDUSTRY SUCKS ASS AND IS JUST CONTRIBUTING TO AGEIST RHETORIC AROUND #OLDER PEOPLE'S APPEARANCES!!!!!!!! #AAAAAAAAAAAA #(for context this is about an assignment that i've been fighting with for a month now) #(for my health and aging course) #(fortunately this is the last class for the semester and then i have finals starting on monday) #(tuesday technically. but monday is day 1 of finals week) #(i just don't have anything on monday other than reviewing organic chem) #right. the format for the presentation is 20 slides and 20 seconds per slide #so its just enough time to say my thing and then move on #and my format is like. typical powerpoint format.

[kisakis-boyfriend]

I've been waiting for your requests to open back up! Hopefully I've made it in time lmao. I've been dying to request something with Mitusya.

I've always imagined Mitusya being a romantic person and I can totally see him setting up a date or a surprise for the reader after not seeing each other for a while because of their work schedules not lining up correctly, due to the holidays making him busier than normal. Like him making the readers favorite dinner and just taking care of them before they end up making love in front of the fire place.

Hopefully that fits the winter theme well enough, if not I do apologize

Pairings: Mitsuya x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, soft dom/top!reader, sub/bottom!Mitsuya, soft sex, blowjob, riding

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

“–and then the manager went ballistic on like three people today...it was stressful just to overhear...”

“Wow. That's crazy. I'm sorry you had to deal with all of that, sweetheart.” Mitsuya's voice came through your phone speaker, sounding sincere as always while you ranted about work on your walk home.

“Thanks, babe. It's so stupid– the holiday shifts, I mean. I can't wait to get home and forget about it all.” You laughed, digging through your bag for your keys. A sigh escaped as you lamented, “I just wish you were here with me too...I hate that neither of us have time off during holidays...”

“Mm. Me too.” Your partner hummed in agreement. As much as you loved hearing his voice almost every night, it wasn't enough. Winter was the busiest season for both of you, and there was never any time to visit each other during. It had been nearly a whole month since you had a physical date! A month! Eating takeout together on a video call was fun, but you missed in-person dates dearly...

The keys clinked against each other as you fumbled with pushing your house key into the lock, turning the doorknob and entering your toasty home a second later. “I really miss you, Taka...” the sadness layered under your breath was not lost to Mitsuya, nor was it lost to yourself, cursing yourself mentally for sounding so depressed.

His soft, reassuring voice came through again, “I miss you too. I'm sure we'll get to see each other real soon, y/n. I guarantee that.” The love weaved into his words brought a small smile to your lips, already daydreaming about your next date. But... something quickly caught your attention. When Mitsuya spoke, it sounded as though his voice also came from your kitchen? Like some sort of echo effect.

“Taka? Can you say that again?” You asked, a bit concerned and confused.

“Uh, sure– I guarantee that, y/n.”

In complete disbelief, your eyes widened and you ran straight towards your kitchen, rounding the corner and just barely preventing yourself from slamming into the wall. Standing next to the counter was none other than–

“TAKAAAA!!” You exclaimed, running directly into your partner's arms, nearly dropping your phone and knocking Mitsuya over at the same time.

Laughter filled the room, along with your happy sobbing, while you bear hugged your poor lover to death. “M-missed you too, y/n. Haha...ah, your hands are freezing...”

“Sorry–!!” you immediately removed your bare hands from his skin, trying to warm them up a bit by rubbing them together. “I just can't– How?! When?!”

“I asked to go home early today. Thought I might surprise you,” Mitsuya explained while cupping your face, warming up your cheeks in the process, “consider this an early Christmas present.”

“I love you so fucking much, Taka...” You whispered before catching your partner by surprise with a hungry kiss.

-

No longer sulking from the awful stress of work, the two of you sat down and had a lovely dinner; Mitsuya had prepared your favorite meal and set up the dining table with a few candles and a nice bottle of wine to share.

Afterwards, while he was taking care of the dishes, you walk up behind him...

-

“You're too sweet...I can help with these, you know?” your arms wrapped around Mitsuya's waist. He can be such a housewife most of the time, but it was very appreciated.

“Nope. I told you, I'll take care of everything. Food, dishes, putting the leftovers away. You, my darling, can just relax.” His words were enough to make you cry sometimes. What did you do to deserve someone this thoughtful and kind?

A chuckle left him as you nuzzled into his neck, breath tickling his skin slightly. “-love you...you're too good to me...” For a split second, it seemed as though you were going to cry. Tears welled up in the inner corners of your eyes, and a familiar heat rose underneath the skin of your face, but you choked it down quickly. Instead kissing Mitsuya's neck, exposed by his open collar.

“Whoa- Take it easy, babe.” Mitsuya laughed, bracing himself against the counter when you pressed forward, kissing lower, kissing harder, “We, aah... We have all night for that–” He trailed off, succumbing to his growing desire. Ah fuck it

Neck kisses turned into shoulder kisses, turned into unbuttoning Mitsuya's shirt, turned into stumbling over towards the couch, turned into sloppy kissing while your shirt was discarded, turned into grinding against each other, turned into stripping down to nothing, turned into Mitsuya flipping you so that you were on your back now–

“I did all this to you, huh?” He teased, with eyes fixed on your leaking cock. Your lover's lips were on your dick within seconds; kissing the base and working up to the head. Shiny precum smeared on his lips as he worshipped your cock, finally taking it into his warm mouth, humming with just the tip in his mouth.

Your only light source was the glow of embers from the fireplace, lovingly lit by your partner before you came home so that the house would be warm and cozy. The flickering orange lighting suited Mitsuya wonderfully. Casting just enough light onto his face so that you can make out his features, yet still dark enough to reflect in his eyes — causing his gaze to appear more piercing. Your partner kept eye contact with you as he bobbed his head up and down, hollowing his cheeks. The feeling had you throwing your head back against the couch cushion, so close to an orgasm already, thanks to Mitsuya's skills.

Before you could cum though, Mitsuya popped off of your cock and sat up, lining his hole — that he had casually been fingering while he sucked your dick — up with it. Steadying himself against your chest, he slowly eased himself lower and lower; you had to bite your lip to prevent a flurry of curses from coming out. The way your partner's insides molded to your shape — it was an indescribably pleasurable sensation.

“Takashi...f-feels good- Need you c-closer...” You moaned, pulling him down and into a passionate kiss. As Mitsuya ground his hips against yours the room seemed to spin. Between his groans of pleasure, the mumbled words in between kisses, and the feeling of his body pressed oh so close against yours–

Mitsuya tightened around you, his moans grew louder, and finally... “G-going to...ah! Cum...y/n- ” With your hasty encouragement, your lover came and white globs painted your stomachs — you'll clean up later though.

“Fuck I'm gonna–!! Hnngh—!! ” Moments after his, your own release followed, pumping a load of cum into Mitsuya's ass. After clenching for a few seconds your muscles finally went slack, followed by a deep sigh of content.

The two of you laid there for a while, tangled together and bathed in warmth. You remained like this for some time; together. With Mitsuya's head laying on top of your chest and your fingers brushing through his hair, lightly tickling his skin as you trailed along his back. You couldn't have asked for a better night than this

#my writing #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #mitsuya takashi #mitsuya smut #mitsuya x reader #sub mitsuya #male reader #dom reader #top reader #oneshot #winter specials ❄️ #requested #mitsuya x you #tokyo rev x male reader #mitsuya x male reader

[goldengroovy]

Renee with a MC that's very affectionate, regardless if it's platonic or romantic? :3

(In a headcanon format if possible)

Renee Murray with an affectionate reader! (implied to be romantic)

These may or may not have accidentally turned into general headcanons, woops! Personally don't feel comfortable using he/him pronouns for Ren, even at step 1, so I'll be using she/her only! As always, A/N at the bottom!

STEP 1 

-> Whether you're a girl or not, shes a little startled by all the affection at first. 

-> She tries to avoid you, but she – in the nicest way – is extremely bad at it. 

-> In this stage of the relationship, you haven’t done anything but compliment her. She haven’t done anything but avoid you. 

-> That was until you made a funny joke about her beanie. Unfortunately for her, and fortunately for you, that was a huge breakthrough in your relationship.

-> Suddenly, she started gravitating towards you. Looking at you when a funny joke is made so she can see you laugh, sitting next to you every time the group hangs, waving at you and smiling, or even going to her mom’s class even when Qiu isn’t present. 

-> As you two get closer, you take that as a go-ahead to be more affectionate. 

-> You start leaning your head against her shoulder, doing that thing where you place your hand in the crook of her arm, placing your hand next to hers. You stop whenever she leans away.

-> After a few months have passed. You barely notice it, but she stops leaning away.

STEP 2 

-> You two have grown closer. A lot closer. 

-> She started returning your affection. 

-> Ren sometimes follows you around like a puppy. Listen, she’s silly, and she loves you!

-> You like to braid Ren’s hair. You knew it made her feel pretty, and you never hesitated on telling her that she was.

-> Sometimes it feels like you knew she was a girl before she did. You still loved her, maybe even a little more than when you first met. 

-> You were the first person she told, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

-> Ren didn’t really go to barber shops anymore. She was a little scared that they would cut it way too short. But it’s fine, because as soon as you learned about it, you offered to cut it for her. 

-> She wouldn’t even let anyone else touch her hair, but she trusts you enough to let you cut it. 

-> This girl loves you so much. She turns all shy and giggly at the slightest affection from you. 

-> She’s still a little too afraid to be extremely affectionate herself, but she has her ways to show that she loves you.

A/N: ughaldhfaskdflsdf i LOVE HER. SO MUCH. she makes my lesbian heart very happy, actually

this was so much fun to write!!! also kind of sobbing because i was halfway through a qiu and tamarack hc list and docs did not save it </33 naur docs hates me so much

ANYWAYS REQUESTS ARE OPEN!! RENEE LOVES YOU BAH BYE

#renee murray #renee murray x reader #our life: now and forever #our life #olnf #river's writing #our life: now & forever

[bigstupid69]

They're all here now!!

Mischa was the first one I did so if his sheet looks off and poorly formatted it's cause it is…

Headcanons below the cut

Mischa

☣ Now before I say anything "why are all the boys with each other" uhm cause I was indecisive on if I liked starrypoet, spacerap, or nischa better, I still ship mischalia honestly sometimes even more. So I just threw the rest of them into the polycule regardless

☣ He is a short king, short Mischa truthers rise he is literally only an inch taller than Ocean, she probably intimidates him more than the other way away around (Need more absolutely unhinged Ocean's who are one point away from screaming at someone, Trinity theater Ocean changed my life/j)

☣ He's practically Ezra's adoptive older brother at this point, bond over the Saw franchise and ICP. He's surprisingly good with kids, like he's a good guy he just looks intimidating and crusty, which I did on purpose. But he is literally the sweetest one in the choir, super physically affectionate, gives good hugs.

☣ Along with Penny he also constantly looks like he's been shoved down a flight of stairs, which he claims is because he's gotten into fights. It's not, he just fell down the stairs like her. He wants to think he's all tough and everything but it's like the complete opposite, he's a dork.

Ricky

☄ They are best friends with pretty much everyone except Ocean for obvious reasons. Constance and them make Kandi together. He's wearing two Kandi necklaces on his uniform, both of them loosely based on the Kandi singlets I made for the choir members. (which of course you have no context to unless you're the like 5 people I've shown them to.)

☄ They're breaking so many dress code rules and the school is just too tired to care. Dyes his hair regularly with Constance, also I know lots of people love the Savannah Potts hc, it's cute!! But I physically cannot draw masc presenting people without shitty facial hair. It's an addiction. I'm so sorry.

☄ Their art style definitely is similar to the late 2000s anime style every shitty windows movie maker slideshow presentation had. with a mix of warrior cats and sparkle dogs. I couldn't really present that in the like 4 inch amount of space I gave myself.

☄ Him and Constance have matching tamagotchis, Noel also used to have one but it died and he sobbed for hours and never wanted to touch it again out of sheer guilt of killing a virtual pet.

Constance

♡ I'm ngl I like pretty much every Constance ship except for blackrose and kept seeing sugarspace art and thought it was cute. So there you go sugarspace crumbs, I'll draw them probably at one point.

♡ She is literally the reason why the choir is like mentally and physically stable. Course that's very mentally draining and never said it's a good thing!! She's probably pushed into the group therapist role at points, I hate the "mom friend" headcanon at points, it's accurate, but at points it can be really toxic, coming from personal experiences.

♡ She definitely shops at hot topic with Ricky and collects a bunch of really cheap fandom merch. Usually bracelets and necklaces, also really into styling hair. She braids Penny and Ocean's hair sometimes, and as mentioned before dyes her hair with Ricky.

♡ I don't like blackrose at all but they've dated for like… a day. It was not a great time. (Literally just one of those absolutely pointless middle school relationships that you forget about like immediately after a breakup)

#ride the cyclone #rtc #rtc musical #mischa bachinski #ricky potts #constance blackwood #rtc art #I am in love with Constance I'm ngl #she's so pretty #Honestly like this grouping more than the first 3 #also that's supposed to be an AAC in Ricky's backpack #that probably wasn't clear but y'know #my art

[diavolosbaby]

Hello! I'd like to request a one shot with Om Simeon x gn MC please ^^ Now, I read in your rules you're alright with writing heavy themed fics, but I still would like to give a heads up for the content of my request. Can I ask for MC askimg Simeon if suicide is really a sin? Maybe they've attempted in the past and things are getting worse in the present time amd they're getting lost in that same headspace? So like, they're wondrring what would happen with them after they'd die? Sorry if this is too specific, if it's too much for you, feel free to ignore it, just let me know please! Thank you so much have a wonderful day byeeee!

Sure :) Warning! This will have talk about suicide being selfish and a sin//

Characters: Simeon

Genre: angst,comfort,angst to comfort

Format: oneshot

Pronouns: they/them

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

"Is suicide truly a sin?"

“Is suicide truly a sin?”

Simeon didn’t think much of the question, a simple frown adorning his face. 

“I hate to think about this topic to be honest. But, if we’re talking technicalities, then yes.” he said with a sigh. 

“Oh, ok.” you said plainly. “And what do you think..? Away from the technicalities and angel stuff?”

He looked up and pondered for a moment. 

“I think so too.”

You looked at him, wearing a sort of betrayed expression. He wasn’t looking at you though. He was still looking up at the sky as he continued his response.

“You were put on this earth for a reason. God put you on this earth for a reason…I mean, throwing away the holy gift of life because what? You’re feeling down? It’s all a bit selfish, don’t you think MC?

When he finally looked your way, he saw you turned away from him and shivering. 

“MC?” he went to place his hand on your shoulder.

You tried your best to explain to him, despite your hitching breath and gasps for air. 

“No it’s not selfish…I’m not selfish..” You hoped he’d understand what you were implying.

Though you were choking on sobs, he understood. 

He pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head. There were no words to make up for what he just said to you. 

You shook and sobbed in his arms. You loved him the most and he loved you the most. Why couldn’t he understand? Why did he say those things? Does he really believe that? You didn’t know. 

—-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You cried yourself to sleep in his arms and woke up to him playing with your hair. 

Your nose was stuffed and your throat hurt. You felt terrible. 

“MC, I’m glad you’re awake..”

You were numb. You didn’t care about the pain and you didn’t care about him. You wanted comfort and you didn’t receive it. 

“What if I killed myself right now, tonight?” you said blankly.

Simeon looked shocked and leaned in to look into your eyes. He saw nothing.

“Would you think that I was nothing but a selfish sinner when I’m gone??”

It was his turn to cry now. “No..That’s not…”

You were sobbing again now. 

“MC…I’m so sorry i didn’t know I didn’t-”

You got up and looked at him through your tears and anger.

You then stormed out of his room and ran. You didn’t know where. But you ran.

If he can’t understand you, who could?

For @robin-the-enby :

If you want a part 2, message me or send another ask I’ll be happy to write it!

- Just let me know whether you want a happy or sad ending :)

#obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me x reader #obey me angst #obey me comfort #obey me simeon #obey me simeon x reader #obey me shall we date headcanons #obey me shall we date #obswd #obswd headcanons #obswd simeon #obey me simeon headcanons #simeon #simeon obey me x reader #obey me angst to comfort #simeon obey me shall we date #obey me simeon oneshot #obey me shall we date angst #obey me shall we date comfort

[cboffshore]

⭐ for this part of small cuts!

She had honestly expected it to burn. 

She wasn’t kidding about that - a poison said to be the deadliest in the world, enough to kill with a single drop? How could it not feel like acid? It looked enough like acid when she transferred it into the dart back at the lighthouse, moving impossibly slowly to avoid spilling. It’s no different than working on delicate machinery, she had told herself, tiny funnel poised in one hand and vial of poison balanced in the other. She expected it to be difficult, and it was, but she’d done harder things.

After everything, she tried not to rule anything out, and then the cold snuck up and caught her off guard anyway.

At least it was quick. She was thankful for that. 

Shivering in Jay’s arms, cracking the weakest joke of her life as her vision blurred and her limbs started to go numb, and then - she hates the old cliche, but damn it, it was right all along - everything went black.

And then, out of nowhere: grass. So much grass, sun-warmed soil under her back, and the white silk of the wedding gown like a vise around her chest - she didn’t even get to die in her own clothes! Was she going to have to spend eternity like this? After everything she put up with, all the running and the fighting and the unwanted touches leaving her shaking even now, she didn’t even get to change into some pants?

Nya had only been consciously dead for less than thirty seconds and she was already hating it.

She felt like she knew the man who approached her. Black and gold robes, a face she couldn’t make out for the radiant darkness and shadowy light emanating from his face, and a suspiciously familiar rice hat, wait just a second, is that - ?

The figure knelt, bringing himself down to her eye level. Nya thought he might have been smiling gently, but she couldn’t tell. He studied her for a few seconds, unreadable.

From the center of a puddle of white and gold, she felt impossibly small. 

For a moment, she was aware of a presence far behind her - on the horizon, the feeling of thousands of eyes, some accusing, some sympathetic, and all thoroughly pained, stabbing into her back like so many poisoned darts.

She didn’t dare look over her shoulder to see who they were. Somehow, she knew , and the comprehension of it sent her into silent sobbing.

Then, a hand landed on her shoulder - feather-light and supernaturally, reassuringly cool - and the First Spinjitzu Master’s unseen eyes met hers.

“None of this should ever have happened.”

Did she say that? Did he ? Nya wasn’t sure, but there was a hurricane of orange mist around them both now, and the silk of her gown shifted back into the familiar cotton and embedded Deepstone of her old gi. The grass was gone then, too, replaced by -

- the feeling of a gritty concrete roof under her combat boots - she had somehow stood up, and the creator of her world was gone, replaced by blinding sunlight, a summer breeze, and the deafening sound of helicopter blades approaching -

first of all, MAD kudos for somehow preserving all the formatting in this excerpt. I don't know if you have a wizard doing your copy pasting or if you did that all by hand, but either way, congrats! Under the cut we go for ramble time!

GOD. Okay. This excerpt is a weird one, because the rest of Small Cuts follows a very steady flashback/present pattern when it comes to formatting. Flashbacks are all italics and set apart into their own paragraphs, bracketed by dashes like they've been torn out of a larger sentence (which.... they have, kinda), and the present is just regular writing. This is the only time the flashback BECOMES the present, and I still think it's kinda weird, but the weirdness of that does serve it in a way. I do remember experimenting with having the whole thing formatted more closely to the flashback appearance and it just DID NOT WORK. Looked awful, horrible reading experience. I like that it comes off as more of a complete, if condensed, experience than the other flashback snippets - it's a pivotal moment that I'm sad canon never even looked at.

Which brings us to what inspired me to work this in! See, when Small Cuts was written, OSSAS as we know it now didn't exist. There was ADA(DP), which was originally a solo piece. Small Cuts was my way of celebrating ADA(DP)'S first birthday, but while I was writing it, I thought it might be nice to expand on what ADA(DP) didn't get to, which is where the flashbacks come in. They actually start around the beginning of 62, when Jay and Nya flee to the lighthouse, and slowly trace Nya's path from there on out. Again, that was never meant to become a series at all, so everything after that is me working FROM Small Cuts to make it fit in. (You haven't gotten past CUF yet, but one of those flashbacks served as the basis for the final confrontation in that piece; same with IICT, which you have not gotten to yet, but that's where I expand that chess flashback.) Point is, all of those flashbacks were meant as a proto-OSSAS to fill in the gaps. Because let's be real, after Nya's captured, the camera pretty much stays on Jay. Which is ESPECIALLY prevalent when she dies.

And that's what I really wanted to play with. The grasslands sequence is probably the loosest I ever get with canon, because it's one of the biggest missed chances in Skybound, IMO. On one hand, I get it - working in a "Nya destroyed Djinjago and therefore is the most deserving target of Nadakhan's rage" angle, or anything similar, would have FUNDAMENTALLY changed the season, or at least made the chaos WAY worse. I love Skybound BECAUSE she's a hot mess, but that would have been one thing too many for the writers to handle, I think. Still, though, a compelling angle that I REALLY pray DR leans into. That would change SO many things about Skybound had they actually used it... But I digress: I wanted to stay closeish to canon here while still bringing that up.

Working off of canon: Nya didn't know she killed the Preeminent's sister realm, and I don't think anyone knew the Preeminent HAD a sister realm. I also don't believe anyone outside of the pirate crew knew about the fall of Djinjago, actually - unless I'm forgetting something MAJOR, I don't think it's ever brought up to the ninja at all. It's all very strange and vague, which influenced the tone I went for in the grasslands sequence. You were the first to figure it out and let me know, but for the uninitiated, the "thousands of eyes, some accusing, some sympathetic, and all thoroughly pained" that Nya feels on her were supposed to belong to the djinn killed in the collapse. (Side note: in hindsight, were I not committed to the Urie-Weekes lyrics titles for this, Afterlife Of The Party would have been a DELIGHTFULLY dark title for this scene.) But of course I don't say that! It was supposed to be as vague as all the ways the Hagemans COULD have woven that angle in.

Anyway, I'm just now realizing - this excerpt is the flashback sequence I have to build off of for OSSAS5. I don't actually think I want to deal with the grasslands sequence, because to be honest I think it's too good to riff on, but that means I get to go into the stuff I STILL skipped - Nya's actual experience under possession. I always feel weird when someone tells me they liked how I addressed both Lloyd and Nya's possession experiences in Small Cuts, because like.... did I? I really didn't go there as much as I should have. But that's a note for another day!!!

#fabro tag #Lila speaks #ask game #ossas tag

[avintagekiss24]

leave out all the rest | c. beck

→ pairing: chris beck x black!reader

→ word count: 5387

→ warnings: 18+ ONLY, smidge of angst, smut, sex, breeding kink, oral sex (female receiving), vaginal fingering, hand job, explicit language

→ square filled: @badthingshappenbingo

flashbacks

→ request: chris beck + breeding kink + "babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that" + "I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that"

→ author note: dr. space daddy is finally here! this is also the first of my 5k celebration fics! all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. thanks so much for the request @thedarkplume​! title from linkin park leave out all the rest (i loveeee this song); line divider by @firefly-graphics​; flashbacks are in italics. i also formatted this with the beta text post editor on desktop... so hopefully nothing looks weird and the italics/bold actually work... it is tumblr after all.

oh, hey, there’s a bit of a marvel crossover in this too!

Nervous doesn’t even begin to describe how you feel in this moment. Your stomach hasn’t been settled since you got the call two days ago. It’s been flipping and twisting ever since. Sleep hasn’t come easy either, but you’re used to that. Ever since Chris left, you haven’t slept well. It’s been almost seven hundred and thirty days— well, just three days short.

You follow the two tall military men, decked out in their dress blues, through the secure facility, your black leather combat boots thudding against the tile floors. Everything is white— the walls, the floors, the coats of all the scientists and doctors milling about— except for you and your flowery, thigh length sundress. Dark eyes wide, teeth nibbling on a sore, often bloody bottom lip from all the nibbling, small purse bouncing off one hip as a duffel bag bounces off the other.

Winding through corridor after corridor, pausing as the men lift their badges to keypads to get door after door to click open. An eerie quiet looms throughout the entire building, nothing but random beeps, your breathing, and footsteps.

Nervous doesn’t begin to describe it.

The walk gives you too much time to think about the last seven hundred and twenty seven days. All of the crying. All of the anger— the screaming. Chris trying to calm you down, assure you that they were okay— that he had to do this.

"It’s so easy for you, isn’t it?" You sobbed into the phone, staring up into the stars, knowing that he couldn’t but secretly hoping that he could see you.

"This is not easy for me," he choked back tears, his tongue heavy, "Leaving you is never easy but I have to do this, baby. We have to go back for Mark. We have to."

You didn’t answer his calls for over a week. And when you did, your words were quick and harsh.

"I can’t do this anymore. I’m moving in with my sister."

Chris was silent on the other end of the phone— too silent. He sighed after a while and just said, "Ok. I understand."

That was day four hundred and sixty three.

So you moved in with your sister. Got a job at the local bar, picked up every shift you could, sometimes working sixty, seventy hours a week— just so you didn’t have to think about him. It didn’t work. You’d still stare out the window at night, up into the big black sky and through the twinkling little stars, wondering where he was, what he was doing. If he was thinking about you.

Unbeknownst to you, Chris continued to call your sister. Just to check on you.

Day seven hundred was when two Air Force officers walked into the bar as you were cutting up lemons and oranges. Your stomach, in a perpetual state of tight and sour, dropped to your feet. It’s never good when the military comes knocking on your door.

“He’s dead,” you spit out, eyes watering, chest starting to heave, “He’s dead, isn’t he? They’re all dead.”

When they removed their hats, your hands flew to your face, covering your mouth to muffle the sobs. You just knew they were all dead. Humans can’t stay in space for this long. It’s not natural.

“No ma’am,” the taller, brown skinned man answered, a small smile breaking onto his face, showing off the distinctive gap between his two front teeth, “They’re back in our orbit. They’ll be landing within the next seventy two hours.”

It was a flurry after that. Phone calls, you moving back onto the base, protocol gatherings, interviews with local and national media. None of it mattered. You just wanted to see him— you needed to see him.

Not before his mandatory three week quarantine that is.

Day seven hundred and twenty five is when they called to let you know that he was ready to move onto the second phase of his integration back on earth. Two weeks cohabitating with another person of his choice, just to make sure that his body and cells can still tolerate, you know, earth— and that he doesn’t give off anything that could make earthlings sick.

They called to let you know that Chris chose you— if you wanted to, of course. If not, he could call his sister.

You were packing your bag before the call even ended.

After two days of getting tested for everything known to man, it’s now day seven hundred and twenty seven and here you are, passing through the last set of doors and stepping into a large observatory room. One of the General’s starts talking, but you don’t hear a word. You just blink slow, lips falling open as you stare back at Chris as he stands at the little square window of his living quarters. He smiles soft, running his hand through his short, dark hair before waving and placing his palm on the window.

Tears cloud your vision. Your chin trembles as a sad smile spreads on your face. A sob chokes in your throat and a warm tear streaks down your cheeks. Despite the talking man, you step up to the window and press your much smaller hand on the glass, spreading your fingers to match his. Chris rests his forehead to it and you do the same as you really start to bawl— shoulders shaking, face breaking, breath rushing fast and hard.

"Baby, don’t cry. Come on pretty, don’t— don’t cry."

Chris’ voice is muffled by the thick glass, but just hearing it— so close, so familiar— after so longs it’s just… it’s almost too much. It is too much.

“Ma’am, we can’t let you in there like this. We need you to calm down.”

Dense thuds shake the glass as Chris pounds on it, "Open the door, Sam!"

Sam grabs your bicep, gently, guiding you towards the door— Chris following you both, still talking to you through the glass.

"It’s okay baby, I’m right here. I’m right here."

“We need you to calm down,” Sam starts again, “He hasn’t been around—”

"Sam! Goddamn it, leave her alone! Open the door!"

“Beck! You cool it in there!”

"Don’t be an asshole! Open the door! She’s scared!"

You hear a scoff, “Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.”

"I swear to God—"

“Step back from the window, Dr. Beck.” Sam is stern now, pointing his finger towards Chris. 

Sam pauses for a few long seconds, blinking slow but keeping his hand around your bicep— and thank God, because you honestly need it, “I’m going to badge you into the hallway, okay? You take this keycard,” he presses it into your palm, “And put it up to the keypad at the second door after I close this door behind you. It’s only good for one passthrough— once you’re in, you’re in until the medical staff clears you both. Understand?”

The second half of his speech is softer, his thumb rubbing the back of your arm. You like Chief Master Sergeant Sam Wilson. You nod quick, rubbing at your face with the back of your hand, sniffling hard and focusing a shaky breath out through your teeth as you step in front of the door. There’s a loud click and the metal pops, Sam reaching past you to push it open.

Your body, on autopilot, takes three steps to the second door, eyes staring at the keypad on the wall beside it. Chris is still talking to you through the windows, one hand pressed to the glass, the other on the door handle.

"Just a few more seconds baby. You’re doing so good."

There’s another click— Sam closing the door behind you. Water fills your eyes again, emotion choking up in your throat at the gravity of it all. All of the screaming. All of the crying. All of the hating him and loving him and missing him for seven hundred and twenty seven days all culminating right here, right now, while he’s just three feet away from you. The sky used to be the thing keeping you apart— now it’s just a wall. A door— that you can’t walk through.

"Baby, Chris says gently, "Come on baby. Open the door, honey."

You’re frozen. Eyes locked on the keypad, fingers gripping the keycard so hard they start to burn. Open the door, honey takes you back. Takes you back to the day that he told you he was going up— that he’d be gone for a year.

“Open the door, honey. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you.” You sniffle, staring at your reflection in the mirror in your small bathroom.

“You knew this was coming. I don’t know why you’re so mad.”

“A year? A year, Chris? I’m just supposed to put my life on hold for you for an entire year?”

He sighs through the door, “I’ve worked my ass off for this, you know that.” You do know that, you’re just being selfish. Needy and selfish, “I know we’ve got plans baby, but it’s just a year. One year and then I’m all yours—”

“Yeah, until the next time you decide to go up there. This is what Melissa warned me about. You get addicted to it.”

“I won’t.”

“You will,” you retort, “I know you.”

That makes him laugh, and then you’re laughing because he’s laughing, “Open the door, please.” Chris sighs again.

As soon as you turn the knob, he’s pushing through it, lifting you up off your feet and twirling you around— to make you laugh again.

You were standing on a precipice that night and neither one of you knew it. Your lives, both individual and combined, would change forever and that was the night that set it all in motion.

The keycard digs into your fingers and palm, bringing you back into the present. Back into the hallway, back in front of Chris. You blink, linking eyes with him again, finding them soft and down turned, his head tilted as he presses his fingers to the glass.

"Let me hold you," he says soft. So soft that the glass between you gobbles it up. But you just know that’s what he said. You just know.

The door clicks in your ear, a breeze is in your face as Chris throws it open, and then you’re consumed. Arms wrapped around you, hard chest against yours as you’re lifted right off of your feet. He’s so warm— he’s always been so damn warm.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, leaning back a little as you push your face into his neck, “This moment was the only thing keeping me going.”

“I’m sorry,” you sob, pushing your face into his shoulder, your tears wetting his NASA sweatshirt, “I’m so sorry, I was so selfish,” the words are clipped and broken, heavy on your tongue, “Chris, I—”

“Don’t. Don’t do that, it doesn’t matter.” He sits you back on your feet, rubbing your back with both of his large hands, “I’m the one that should be sorry.”

You cry openly into his chest, wrapping your arms around him and pushing your hands up into his sweatshirt, under the thin t-shirt underneath— just to feel his skin, “I missed you so much.”

One, two, three, four pecks of his warm lips on the top of your head before he rests his cheek there, holding you tight as he takes a deep breath, “All that’s over now, hmm?” you can feel the smile on his face, “We don’t have to miss each other anymore.”

-

A yawn pushes out of your mouth as you stretch out tight, sore muscles screaming. Eyes flutter as you shift, another deep breath pushing out your nose as you nuzzle your face into the pillows, body cocooned in warmth. You’re drifting again, quick, when an abrupt panic races through your veins without warning. Your stomach drops, skin instantly flushing with heat as you spring up, eyes as wide as saucers as your breath rushes.

That’s when you hear it, an all too familiar sound. A pencil, tapping slowly, methodically, against something. It calms you instantly. It’s real, you’re real, Chris is real, and you’re here. He’s here.

You swing your legs over the edge of the small bed, tucked in the corner behind a small partition. There’s a soft light glowing underneath it and a single red blinking dot emanating from the corner of the room— a camera. You push your hair out of your face but keep your fingers on your cheeks, closing your eyes as you focus on your breathing. In, out, in, out, in, out. There’s a murmur, Chris mumbling to himself and you can’t help but smile.

You stand and start moving towards the noises, padding soft and slow as his mess of brown hair and hunched back comes into view. He stands, switching out an X-Ray on the viewer before he plops back down into the swivel chair, staring at it for a second before he starts flipping through the large, open text book just to his left. There’s a little white board off to the right, leaning against the wall, the days he’s been “gone”, seven hundred and twenty seven, scribbled in his messiest of messy handwriting.

The little slice of time watching him sends you right back to your college years, waking up in his dorm room, finding the bed empty and him huddled over a too small desk, furiously flipping through a thousand page text book. You’d sneak up on him, just as you are now, barely dressed and sleepy eyed. Dig your fingers into his hair, scratch his scalp slow. Giggle as his shoulders slump and his head falls back a little, him moaning all the while.

“God, that feels good.”

“You let me fall asleep.”

“You cried yourself to sleep. Didn’t have the heart to wake you… you look like you haven’t slept in a year.”

“Hmm, more like two. What are you doing?” you ask, pushing around his side and crawling into his lap, nuzzling into his shoulder.

“Looking at our X-Rays from earlier today. I’m working on another paper for the Institute.”

“Trying to see if you guys are still earthlings?”

He laughs, the sound rumbling through you, making you smile, “Kinda, yeah. Our body masses have changed dramatically— our bones are longer, I’m not shitting you.” You giggle again at the enthusiasm in his voice, “It’s just a few centimeters, but still. Our brain waves are a little different, metabolism has sped up… it’s incredible.”

You keep the small smile on your face as your fingertips drift over his chest, rubbing slow as you feel his eyes fall to you, “You should get back in bed,” he says, squeezing your knee gently, “You look so tired, baby.”

“Not without you.”

He laughs again, “My circadian rhythm’s all fucked up, I can’t sleep.”

“Then it looks like you're stuck with me,” you kiss his chin and then cuddle back into him, “Don’t mind me.”

Mind you, he doesn't. He just goes about flipping pages and scribbling down random thoughts, marking up his pile of x-rays and fumbling through his and the rest of the crew's medical charts. You push your hand up into the arm of his navy blue NASA sweatshirt, raking your nails up and down his forearm absentmindedly as you breathe him in. Your other hand wanders too, tracing the band of his dark sweatpants before skipping up into his sweatshirt, brushing over his stomach and up to his chest.

The pads of your fingers outline the muscles that are still there, his pecs, down and across his soft abs, before back up and over a cheeky nipple. He jumps slightly, crinkling his nose as he smiles big and hard, “Babe, I’m never gonna finish this work if you keep doing that.”

“Maybe that’s the point.”

“Oh, is that so?”

You bat two big eyes up at him, the weight of going almost two years without catching up with you right at this moment. A hum vibrates in your throat as you stand, taking a few steps away from him before you toss your eyes over your shoulder, licking your bottom lip before sinking your teeth into it. You hold out your hand, wiggling your fingers after a few moments, watching him drag his big eyes down your bare legs and then back up over your powder pink satin shorts and matching camisole.

“Come to bed, Dr. Beck.”

He’s up and on his feet before the words are out of your mouth. Warm fingers interlace with yours as the two of you move back towards the bed, falling onto the soft twin size mattress. His weight dips into the bed as he sinks his knees into it, pulling his sweatshirt over his head as you crawl towards the headboard. You draw your legs up, swaying them gently back and forth, palms flat on your thighs as you inhale deep, watching as he tosses his shirt to the floor.

The smile on your face grows larger as he crawls over you, pushing your legs open with his soft hands before he settles right between them. Chris takes his time looking at you, smiling soft as his eyes drift over your face, his index finger dragging down the bridge of your nose, over two full lips, and down your chin and neck. You let out a quick breath when the pad of that sneaky finger dips just inside your tank top— right into your cleavage.

He cups your face, his thumb resting on your lips, brushing gently, “I’m never leaving you again,” he whispers, blue eyes filling with earnest as they bounce between yours, “I mean it.”

You turn your head into his palm, pressing your lips into the soft, warm skin, planting kisses, “You promise?”

The delivery is breathless. Quiet. Small. Almost begging him to mean it. He takes a deep breath, pushes it out slow before leaning in, closing his eyes as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. That’s when he kisses you— slow. Deep. Tongue pushing through your lips and into your mouth.  Massaging the roof of your mouth before sliding along your tongue. He even moans a little, lets his body— muscles, bones, brain— relax. Lets himself melt into you because it’s just been so damn long.

It ends slow, the kiss. Chris grabbing your lip with his teeth and pulling gently before he rests his forehead to yours. Eyes closed, his big, skilled hands and fingers flirting with your calves—pushing over your knees and then down your thighs to come to rest on your sides and hips.

“I promise.” You slide your hands up and down his sides, letting your eyelids flutter as he continues, punctuating his words with more gentle kisses, “We can start that life you’re so crazy about,” he laughs when you laugh and wrap your arms around his neck, “Buy you a house.”

“On the base?”

“I thought you didn’t like the base?”

“I don’t… but I kinda... do.”

“Then yeah, on the base if that’s what you want.”

Your eyes are still closed as hot lips press against your face— the crook of your nose, underneath one eye, cheeks, and then chin. You push your fingers up into his hair as he forges a path with his lips and tongue— down your neck, over two collarbones, down your arm— all the while his hands move upward. Up into your silk top, nimble fingers playing with two tight nipples before he rucks the silk top up to your chin.

“Wait,”

“What?”

“What about them?”

“Them, who?”

Pointing with your foot towards the blinking red light in the corner, “Them.”

He laughs and you laugh, covering your face with your hands until Chris pries them away, “They’re nerds, babe. We’ve already made them so nervous they’ve left the control room.”

You honestly can’t remember the last time you laughed this hard. Not since he left you suppose. It’s a nice sound, for both you and him, filling up the small space, making it alive and lived in instead of clinical and dry, “That’s not nice, Chris!”

He shimmies the thin material up over your head, casting it to the floor, “It’s the truth! I should know. Remember the first time I saw you naked? I couldn’t look anybody in the eye for a week.”

The memory makes you laugh, soft and dreamy-like, “That was so long ago.”

Chris catches the tone. It makes him halt, for just a second, his eyes shifting away from you. Guilt. For holding you at an arm’s length for so long. For making you number two. For making you wait for him for so damn long.

You tilt your head, eyes searching his. Gentle hands claim his face, pulling him back into your strong gaze, “Stay with me,” you whisper, eyes bouncing between his, “You’re buying me a house.”

“Ah, yes,” with one fell swoop, your shorts are pulled down your legs, right over the tips of your manicured toes and thrown to the floor, “One story? Two?��� He asks, back up on his knees.

“Umm, maybe just one,” You answer, sitting up, slipping your hands into the dark sweats still covering his bottom half, “A two story house is too much to keep clean.”

You pull, but not all the way. Just enough to see his hips and that little tuft of dark hair underneath his belly button. You can’t help yourself and lean forward, kissing his stomach, giggling when he jumps a little. When you do it again, kiss him, and then a third time, and a forth, he gives in. Sweeps your locs over your shoulders and pulls them into a ponytail in his hand. That’s when you hook your thumbs back underneath the thick band of his sweats and pull a little harder, pushing the material right over his hard cock, making it bounce.

Chris kicks out of the sweats, grabs your face in his hands and tilts it upward. Leans down and kisses you again— soft. Sweet. All while rubbing small circles into your cheeks with his thumbs. He stays there, forehead to forehead, eyelashes spread over his buttery, quickly blushing red cheeks as you palm him, dragging your hand from the base right to the tip.

It doesn’t take much— never has. After a few strokes, he’s wet and red all over. Chest, neck, cheeks. Mouth agape, pulling in ragged breaths as his eyelids flutter. He swallows hard, and then hums quick, deep and throaty before inhaling through his open mouth. You push upward, kissing him as you continue slow strokes, sweeping a thumb over his wet tip.

Fingertips brush along the inside of your thigh, down low, first by your knee. Then, slowly, they skirt upward, not groping or kneading, just brushing— flirting with your skin until they reach their destination. You gasp, mouth falling open as adept fingers— not only just in general, but with your body specifically— push through wet folds.

“One story it is then,” he breathes, hot, unhurried, “A dog and a,” he slams his eyes shut, hissing and grunting when you squeeze him, “Fuck baby,” he swallows again, lips trembling as he nuzzles in, rubbing the tips of your noses together, “A dog and a cat.”

Your free hand wraps around his neck, fingertips pushing into his hair as your head tips back, hips start to shove forward, eager for his touch— wanting those fingers inside. When Chris obliges, sinks his index and middle finger into your cunt—  touch starved and needy— you mewl. Making a real sound for the first time in seven hundred and twenty seven days. It enlivens you both.

Chris pushes you back, lays you back onto the small mattress, spreads you out. Keeps his fingers inside, pumping slow, curling, massaging. Thumb pressed against your clit, rubbing. He lays between your legs, coming face to face with your most intimate and blows gently. Warm air sticking to balmy flesh. Big blue eyes flick up to yours, then back to your sweet, licking his lips as a squelch fills the room.

His tongue darts out, slips along the inside of your thigh. Your hips react instantly, jutting upward as a sharp breath fills your chest. A long arm pushes up your body, fingers prodding your breast, tweaking a nipple before he palms the skin, but not for long. Within seconds, his fingertips are pushing into a willing mouth. Your tongue, swirling around thick digits as you grab onto his hand, holding it there.

Warm air tickles damp skin again as he blows on you, “Have some babies,” he offers quick, the words muffled by your flesh as he finally laps at you, tongue slipping through sticky folds, flattening against your slit as he massages the delicate, “How many you want, baby?”

Nothing but a bitten-off groan answers him. It comes for many reasons. His fingers somehow delving deeper, lips brushing over your cunt— the thought of babies. Little brown skinned, curly headed babies running in the backyard with that dog and cat. Wide smiles, complete with missing teeth, loud laughter, declarations of love as they jump into mommy and daddy’s arms.

“Oh yeah,” heavy words breathed into your ear, a hunk of man now laying on top of you, cock pressing at your opening, “My pretty girl wants babies,” the wetness makes it easy for him to slide in— all the way in— bury deep, “I’m gonna give them to you. You’ve been so good.”

He’s moving, hips pushing and pulling as he cups your face in his hands, presses his forehead to yours, “I’m gonna fill you up,” he mutters, swollen lips brushing against yours, “Stuff you— full of— my, fuck,” a deep moan, another quick hiss as he bites his bottom lip, overcome by the warmth, the wet— the tight, “Fuck, you feel good.”

Feverish lips are on yours again, teeth nibbling as his hips shove into you. Soft and swift. A palm covering your breast, fingers pressing, kneading and working sensitive, responsive skin. Nipples hardening, heat blooming across an ardent canvas of skin, pulsing hips eager to meet his.

Chris cups your chin, pushes upward so you're forced to keep slitted eyes on him and him only, “You want my babies? Hmm? Tell me baby,” you can only whimper in response, digging your nails into his sides, drawing your legs up and around him as he plunges deep, “Come on honey, use those words. Tell me how much you want my babies.”

He fucks into you hard, jamming his hips just once— the sound of skin on skin slapping out loud and off the walls. It arches your back, the sudden, quick thrust. Sends you right up into his chest. Chris pulls you into his lap as he falls back on his ass, extending his legs, heels digging into the mattress as he wraps his arms around you, holding you close and tight, fingers spreading out on your back.

Hips roll into one another. Fingers grip his calf as you lean back, hot, sloppy lips on your chest, over and between bouncing tits. A taut nipple pulled right into his wet mouth. Slippery tongue swirling and flicking, teeth nibbling before he sucks on the tight nub, teasing it further.

Then he’s holding your hips, forcing you down onto his cock. More rushed, sticky words falling from swollen, red lips, “You want me to fill you up? Hmm? Tell me.”

Tears slip down your cheeks, overcome by it all. The emotion of it, the physicality of you and him tangled together— the words, how many years you’ve waited to hear those words.

“That’s right, sweet girl,” he purrs, thrusting harder, faster, “You want me to come in you, don’t you? You’d love it if I came in you, huh? Knocked you up? Gave you a baby?”

You kiss him hard. Cupping his face, moaning sweet into his wet mouth, “I want it,” it’s breathy— desperate, “I want it, Chris. I want it.”

“Then I’ll give it to you. I’ll give it all to you.”

It’s feverish after that. Pushing and pulling. Grunting, smacking— lips on lips, skin on skin. Large hands gripping, fingers pressing into the meat of thighs and calves and ass and tits. His fingers grip the meat of your thighs, your ass, slide up your back— around your neck as your head falls back. Those fingers find your mouth, push just inside as he wraps his other arm around your waist, pulling your hips closer, helping them rock.

His fingers are out of your mouth, cupping your cheek now. Smoothing hair out of your face as it strains. You try not to get loud, slam your eyes closed, purse your lips as your toes curl and stomach tightens… heart flutters.

“Oh no,” he murmurs, brushing his thumbs over your closed eyes before prodding at your lips, “Don’t do that, honey. I know for a fact that you can be a hell of a lot louder than that. Come on, let me hear you.”

“No, I—“

“Don’t be modest,” his tone shifts, going stern and deep, and that’s all it really takes for the noise to flow, “I wanna hear you.”

But he knew that.

It’s a sweet little hum, and then a gasp before it’s clipped by an obscenity— a shaky, desperate, filthy word that dissolves away into a loud groan and then… it’s all downhill from there.

You couldn’t hold it in if you tried. It’s been too long. A pent up aggression, a nervous need all finally working its way out of you. You pull him close— crush your chest against his, wrap two liquid arms around his neck, press your face right against his. Chris loops an arm around your waist, squeezing your opposite hip, pressing his fingers right into the soft skin until it hurts.

But it’s good, the pain of the squeeze. It helps you right over the edge, makes you finally cum after seven hundred and twenty seven days. Slow at first. A warmth just taking its time as it spreads. The feeling sort of foreign because it’s been so long— your brain hasn’t caught up just yet.

When it does catch up, brain and body finding each other, dormant synapses kicking on with a jolt, it’s not just a warmth. It’s molten now, searing and stirring, passing through veins and muscles and skin and bone— it’s that deep. Toes curling so hard they go numb, fingertips digging into his shoulders as you throw your head back.

You’re sure the scientists and military guards can hear you three floors down.

Chris leans in, hot, wet, shiny lips pressing against your chest, over your tits with sloppy kisses, hips still churning into yours until they just can’t. Wet walls closing in, clamping down as they spasm, that molten enveloping him. His hips freeze quick with the first spurt, but find a haphazard rhythm as he comes. Fills you up just like he promised.

He pushes those warm blooms of silk deep with now pointed, long strokes. Not a drop escaping— it’s all for you, after all. Supply and demand and all that.

The mattress is a dream beneath you. Inviting and soft as he lays you into it, still rooted deep as he rolls you onto your side. An arm snakes around your hip, a palm and long fingers anchoring in the center of your chest. A hot, flushed cheek presses against yours as lazy wet lips drag along the back of your neck. Languid thrusts at random intervals keeps you gasping as he tucks his knees and thighs into the backs of yours.

“Say it again,” you whisper after a few quiet minutes, breath still heavy, chest still heaving.

Chris plunges into you again, soft and sweet and deep, “Say what, honey?”

“That you won’t,” the words break off, a moan replacing them as he kisses a trail down your arm, fucks into you once, twice, three times, “That you won’t leave me again.”

“I’m not leaving you again.”

-

When you wake up the next morning, that little whiteboard with the days scribbled on it is erased. All it says now?

Day one.

#bad things happen bingo #5k...holy god #chris beck #chris beck x reader #chris beck x black!reader #chris beck x you #you x chris beck #reader x chris beck #the martian #chris beck fanfiction

[kusagrasskusa]

Michael Myers X Murderer! Reader - Headcannons - "Death Card"

Also, thank you (Wattpad Person) for requesting this :) I know your the last request I got, so I prolly should have done someone else's request first, but your's was just easiest to find. (Also, I have it bad for Michael so )

Have fun reading this! I'm writing this on my laptop instead of computer so sorry if the formatting turns out worse than usual :/

Also...someone made fun of me for putting, "eight," and, "11," in the same sentence. I guess not many people know this, but anything under ten is supposed to be written out unless their fractions or decimals.

By the way, these basically aren't headcannons lol. It's just me wanting to write out a story but not being good enough to so I just write it down in simpler terms.

Enjoy~

Not only is Y/N just another famous murder who casually takes the lives of people, but she's amazing at hiding

..........until-

Y/N was an abusive home after her parents died when she was a toddler. Her aunt and uncle neglected her but karma came back at them when their car fell off a bridge, causing the pair to drown. The downside for the young Y/N was that she was put into a foster institution. And we all know by now that foster care are full of fights, drugs, weed, alcohol, and shitty employees.

As a young girl entering such a bad place, she was always a target. You know that sense of fear, worthlessness, and loneliness fucked with her head to where she felt lashing out felt great.

She would be unable to stop herself as she plunged a sharp object in and out of this prick that held her down for so long. But once she heard voices from other kids, she ran.

The story made headlines as the next big attack from yet another child. That's right, next. There was someone who inspired her to do what she did.

Of course, she always had that memory in the back of her head. That boy's violent actions filled her with immeasurable awe when she saw the news. However, she always had something more important to think about.

With so much dissatisfaction with her past, she could only fill herself up with adding things on to her in the present, and more in the future.

Y/N would steal Poker cards from people and always use the Ace of Spades to mark her kills by sliding the card into a wound. After all, betting games were the highlight of her day in the foster institution. She was always so good at it that it became her pride.

All these headlines and stories about how evil she is became such a big deal in her head. Such an overwhelming feeling of adrenaline every time she heard the name people would call her.

"The Death Card," is another name for Ace of Spades in most English countries. It was the perfect fit for Y/N.

(Ya'll, I feel like a fucking genius for coming up with that lol)

She was so good at hiding, truly. Kill someone in Kentucky, then move to Missouri. Killing someone there and move to Georgia, and so on.

Only in her hometown was she caught.

Michael was the one who started it all for her, as their same age and hometown made her feel connected to him, and finally where he got caught would be the same place she did.

14 years of hiding and killing led her to meeting him

Michael spent these 14 years sitting in complete silence. No talking, no humming, no singing, nothing. It's like he was always in his own world of thought, too busy in his imagination to interact with the real world.

Of course, there was times when he did pay attention to what's around him.

The news was the only thing he'd really pay close attention to. After all, what if something happens to Haddonfield while's he's stuck in there, and that causes plenty of people he once knew to move away?

But per usual, there was nothing about it

But there was something that caught his attention even by a little

"After 14 years, the notorious Death Card or Card of Death has finally been caught," says the Haddonfield Police Department. "While we're unsure of her motives thus far, we have been able to learn of who she is. Y/N L/N made the headlines once in 1980 at the age of eight as one of America's biggest crime cases with children as the culprit, having brutally stabbed a 15 year old boy. This happened just two years after the Michael Myers case, when a six year old boy stabbed his older sister in 1978. All else the HPD are saying is that her frantic behavior may lead her to a mental institution rather than letting her make legal decisions in court."

Michael paid attention to all the details of the report. For this report to be made about Haddonfield, chances are they'll be meeting each other soon.

The Death Card was a violent killer Michael heard of plenty of times however he never paid close attention to.

(Holy shit these are just headcannons so why am I writing long paragraphs)

He had to say, hearing about her violent stabbings were the highlight of his week. Even if he never felt strong about hearing other people having fun with their lives like she was, he couldn't help but almost feel pushed to do what she is. Living freely and ending those who cross his path...

Saying he was jealous or inspired would be a stretch though

He would spend his days painting paper mache masks while thinking of doing what she was for sure but he hated how she would show off by using those cards as if she didn't have a goal in mind, which was annoying to him. If you have nothing to live for, then kill yourself was his mindset.

Michael watched as Y/N stepped into court. He know hundreds- no thousands- of people watched as this woman of pure evil stepped into the courtroom. Her H/C hair flowed as she walked passed everyone, glaring at them with her cold E/C eyes.

A look of slight intrigue replaced his normal dull expression as he watched the girl stand up before the judge, smiling sassily at the cameras as to tell them to fuck off. Michael can recognize that look of intrusion on her face as she was practically interrogated. Clearly, she hated it there.

He watched contently as all the mystery surrounding the Card of Death was revealed to everyone in this world. Days went by of this court case before finally, she pled insanity. After all, she was known to have some underlying mental conditions as she remained so calm when talking about the varies of ways she would kill.

It's easy to see that many felt bad for the girl. Such trauma growing up led to the creation of this unfortunate human. But Michael? He didn't feel bad at all.

He never was sad or truly sympathetic however...he did feel pity. Somewhere in his soulless eyes held pity for this sad, sad girl he was soon to meet. Not exactly sympathy, but simply pity. And with that came respect.

The day that Y/N stepped foot into those doors was the day the two would meet for the very first times. Over 63 counts of first degree murder in 14 years led to the meeting of these two serial killers. At the time, they were both only 20.

Tables were scattered across the room with people talking or simply sitting alone by themselves on them. There was TV in a few different places around the room and board games in a couple of shelves. In the back of the large room was windows that showed the outside that felt so out of reach forever.

As the metal doors slammed behind her, she felt eyes on her immediately. Y/N slowly scanned the room as she gulped back the intense fear gathering in her stomach. Her lips parted open as she began to breath heavily and press her back on those metal doors.

She was so trapped and scared when she first entered that foster institution. She couldn't help but think of karma when her aunt would hurt her so badly for those five years before she died. But 63 murders are so much worse, so what could karma do to her to balance her evil deeds with punishment?

Laughter and giggled filled her ears as she shut her eyes tightly and covered her face with her arms. Her vision was going blurry; she was having a panic attack. Tears fell from her eyes as she whimpered quietly to herself.

She may be the Card of Death however she never had to be in a large group of people in so long.

Her body jerked as she was suddenly pulled away from those metal doors. She cried out when she saw a large man, around 6'7 (204cm), pull her away.

In just a few seconds, she was pulled to a metal table and forced to sit as the large man stood behind her with his hands on her shoulders.

Her body tensed unimaginably as they remained still for a few seconds, quiet aside from the occasional sobs of Y/N.

Then suddenly, the pressure on her shoulders disappeared. She heard nothing until the sound of creaking from the seat in front of her interrupted.

Y/N felt eyes on her. They were so intense over her.

A minute passed before her own eyes fluttered open, meeting the man's eyes in front of her.

A shiver ran down her spine when she came face to face with stone cold blue eyes that seemed to hold nothing within them. No light, no soul, and no sympathy. Not only that, but a orange mask made of paper mache covered the rest of his face as well.

The man tilted his head before lifting his hand onto the table, sliding something over to her. Y/N looked down at what he gave her.

"Don't speak. Write."

Michael had given her a paper with these words. His handwriting was hard to read considering he nearly never wrote anything so it took a moment before Y/N got the message. When she did, she looked back up at the man and nodded just a little so it was barely recognizable.

Obviously this conversation was to be secretive so she knew to barely show signs of interactions. The camera couldn't pick up on such a small nod to what evidence is there of them even interacting?

Michael slid the paper back to him and brought a pencil to the paper after erasing the original text. When he slid it back to her, it read, "Don't let anyone know what we say Y/N. They watch everything." When Y/N looked back up at him, she saw him dart his eyes from something behind her to something on the wall between them. She turned her head slightly to the side, noticing a camera on the wall. So she understood.

Michael had dropped on the pencil on the table, meaning it was her turn to reply. She erased the previous text before writing down, "Who are you? How do you know me?" When she slid it back, Michael took the pencil in his hand again.

"Michael Myers. I was a well known case two years before you. We heard a lot about you on TV."

"As in the boy who killed his sister at the age of six?"

"Yes. You know me?"

Y/N's eyes widened slightly as she frantically wrote down a reply. Without even noticing, the knot in her stomach had completely disappeared without a trace.

"I remember seeing your case. I thought about everyday."

Michael didn't reply immediately after reading. Instead, he waited a few minutes and stared down at the table. A look of confusion remained on Y/N's features as she impatiently waited. Then suddenly, Michael erased what was on the paper and simply drew a masked person looking somewhat like himself with a knife in his hand. He drew dead stick figures around it with blood splattering everywhere.

Michael knew that this picture would cover up all the eraser marks and writings that were still slightly visible. So when the guard that walked up behind Y/N without her knowing popped up, he didn't see any text.

Of course, this did lead to the paper being taken away. Then minutes after that, both of the pair was taken away.

If there's one thing as scary as analyzing The Shape and caring for him, it's that person who cares and analyzes him finding him interacting with someone else for the first time.

Whenever Y/N got sat down in her cell, she knew what was about to happen. She was sat down in her bed as a man she'd never seen before sat down in the chair that came with her little desk in her cell with a guard next to him.

Have you ever spoken to Michael? Are you related to him? How do you know him? How does he know you? Have you ever met his family? Why did he interact to you? Why was he drawing things for you? Does he like you? Does he hate you? Did he write to you? Did you hear him talk?

So many questions were asked by this Dr Loomis in such short amount of time. "No, no, I don't, no, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, no, no," and mostly these were your responses. No matter how many times Loomis asked, you dully replied.

You simply said he sat you down and you began to draw together, both filling in a piece of the drawing together.

And eventually, you got out.

Another day went by of "talking" to Michael.

And another.

And another.

The talks were nice and casual. What goes on in the asylum? What goes on in the outside? Who should I avoid? What's the reputation of the HPD?

Do you want to escape?

But it was only a matter of time before finally the two were friends.

Y/N was kinda just in her cell one night in bed. Then she just gasped and widened her eyes. Wait, are we friends? We're friends, right!

Michael already knew of their friendship like two weeks before she did. It felt so...wrong for him. He had always been alone and silent. How could someone like her even be so likeable to him? He didn't really understand it but he knew he hated it.

One day, the two were writing to each other per usual. Michael unintentionally added a pun in one of his comments, causing Y/N to giggle. Michael cocked his head to the side in confusion, strangely feeling heat rise his face and his heart speed up. It was air conditioned so he suspected he may have gotten sick.

Whenever the two had to go back to their cells, that feeling suddenly disappeared. Then it hit him. Oh fuck-

Hell, only a week later did Y/N feel herself experiencing the same symptoms. Michael notices that Y/N would shake and fidget a lot when they interacted, making him wonder of she was cold. As a friend, it was only right for him to sit next to her and hold her close to keep her warm, right? Y/N's face went red and damn that was embarrassing. But of course, that didn't mean Y/N wouldn't hug him back.

Eventually the two were basically cuddling. The two hugging each other warmly as Y/N rested her head on his chest, struggling to stay awake as they got more comfortable by the second.

But of course, Dr Loomis caught eye of that.

The doctor had been looking deep into al the interactions these two evil beings have had. They act so casual, so normal with each other, surely more than just drawing is happening between them, right?

The doctor had pulled them into his office separately to interrogate them. While Y/N bluntly answered his questions to make him just shut up as quickly as possible, she couldn't help but think to herself. She knows that she and Michael are mentally ill, but he should definitely be fixed by now. He's smart and creative and can casually talk to people, so it's like the only thing keeping him here is that the doctors are so ill-equipped that they can't make the necessary breakthrough to save him.

Of course, just a month later, another incident happened like this. Y/N was having a bad migraine so Michael got her to just sit down and wait for him during lunch. He brought over two trays of food for them and was sure to trade with Y/N so she can eat the things she likes and he could have the things she dislikes.

Another time, a bipolar guy ran into Michael and shoved him as if it was his fault. Michael shoved him back instinctively, causing a fight to disperse between the two. As security guards took notice, Y/N was quick to push Michael away softly and ball a fist to punch the fuck out of that guy- like a, "YO WHATCHU SAY ABOUT MY MAN?" type shit. Y/N did this to seem like she was hitting back and that Michael hadn't done anything wrong.

And when each other's birthday's rolled around, they had their own celebration. Y/N was given her own paper mache mask as a gift and a small cupcake from the cafe. Michael was given stolen art supplies that were taken from other guests and also a cupcake.

Y/N slowly stopped having panic attacks, but she definitely had her moments. Of course, Michael sat with her through it.

Dr Loomis recorded all this shit so he can gather data on Michael. Then the question hit him: How would Michael react if Y/N was gone for a few days? Does he truly care about her or is he just using her?

If you think Michael hated Loomis before, wait til he pieced together the disappearance of girlfriend and the extensive eyesight on him from security guards. For the hell he raised about it, he had to get sterilized and put into a cell without being able to get out for a few days.

Y/N remained bored in her cell for days. So what better could she do than annoy the guard watching her? She would just talk nonstop for what felt like hours and hours. The dude watching her was just getting more pissed off by the second.

"Would you shut up? Crazy bitch," he hissed, hitting the cell door. Y/N giggled cockily, shaking her head. Even if she deserved to be yelled at for continuing to talk, the Card of Death refused to back down. But when the guard went inside her cell and locked the door behind him, she got a bit worried.

Y/N got off her bed and threatened him cockily, to which he responded with physical force.

Of course, Smith's Groove is ill-equipped so even with proof of being hit and tazed, Y/N couldn't do anything to get the guard fired. But Michael?

A full month without seeing each other was like a slow suicide. But when they finally got to see each other again, the two was sure to write so much about their time alone as if they were teenage friends discussing their fun weekends. However, things turned dark whenever Y/N brought up the guard.

Michael didn't show any emotions at all, no matter what happens. But Y/N learned to guess how he's feeling depending on how long he takes to respond. Slowed blinking as if he was in thought, and slower reading as got analyze her writing closer were typically bad signs.

About a year had passed since they met at this time. A year to plan to escape. By now, the two were both 21 and fully prepared to leave once and for all.

Whenever that security guard had walked passed Michael's cell one night, Michael had knocked on the door to signal him. Michael slipped a paper through the doorslot, as he was given paper since he doesn't talk, saying he found a dead mouse in his cell. The guard just huffed and let himself inside. Michael pointed to where the mouse supposedly was; and that was a mistake for the guard.

Right as that guard went to look, Michael got behind and covered his mouth before stabbing him in the neck with a paint brush that's but carved into a small blade. Within moments, the guard dropped dead onto the floor.

Taking the keys from the guard, Michael was able to let out nearly every single prisoner to this hell out of their cells. Including Y/N.

The world sister was the only thing left of the pair as it was engraved into the door of Michael's cell. And just like that, the two were gone.

How they got there so fast doesn't matter but eventually Y/N and Michael found an abandoned house to station at until the search around the area disappeared and they could move around quicker.

"I can't fucking believe it," Y/N cheered as she felt tears run down her face from happiness. She swayed across the room, taking in the smell of dust and air. Even something dirty felt so new to her that couldn't help but love it at the moment.

Michael would watch her as he sat down in an old wooden chair, cocking his head. His body was in complete shock as the realization of all that's happened in the past years came crashing down on him. This was the real world? This is what dust smells like? This is what shattered glass and broken wood looks like? This is what trees look like up close? This is what things look like without glass tinting the color?

This is what it feels like to celebrate with someone you love? Michael reminded himself that the girl in front of him changed his life so much. His urge to harm all around him was always so strong, but the thought of her being hurt felt a bad taste in his mouth.

He stood up from the chair, walking towards the ecstatic girl as she cried happily to herself and picked up random things to remind herself of what they feel like and all she takes for granted. She turned her head to him, smiling, "Michael, look, I found a-"

Y/N gasped as Michael gripped his mask and slowly moved it. Y/N watched in awe as for the first time, she saw her only friend in this world's real face. That pale skin and soulless eyes that she grew familiar with became so new to her again.

"Michael..." she whispered, stepping closer to him. Her face heated up as she felt the weight his eyes staring down at her. She lightly bit her lip, a shiver going down her spine.

He took a few steps closer as well, making the two remain inches away from each other. Now at this point, Y/N is questioning if Michael is gonna kill her or is gonna kiss her as he awkwardly put his hand to her cheek, brushing her hair away. She leaned her head into his hand, keeping eye contact with him the whole time.

In just a matter of moments, the two came together in a soft kiss. The moment was quiet as the two did their best to remain calm and together as this moment that was little way's overdue continued.

When the two pulled away, Y/N was quick to wrap her arms around him. Now she wasn't going to cry about it, but damn was that contact she needed so badly. The Death Card and The Shape were basically Yin and Yang with how one is emotional and the other in emotionless but their need for pain and each other is what kept it healthy.

Just imagine how much suffering families went through since the two got out.

#michael myers x y/n #michael myers x you #michael myers x reader #michael myers #horror movies x reader #horror movies #slashers #slashers x y/n #slashers x you #slashers x reader #halloween #reader insert #x reader #killer reader #movie villains #aaaaaah #request #i love u #thanks for the request!

[volleychumps]

Hi! Can I request an one shot or head cannon with Akaashi and Iwaizumi where you’re manager at training camp and everyone decided it would be fun to go hiking nearby but you suddenly get lost and twist your ankle or something and when you run into them, you start to tear up from relief as they comfort you and piggy back you back.

« Finding You.

~ the one where you go missing for a night, prompting Akaashi Keiji to search for you despite the dangers lurking in the darkness

Format: One-shot

genre: fluff

- Akaashi Keiji x Reader

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

9:03pm

“Don’t tell me you’re afraid of the dark.”

“No, we should just go hiking when the sun is, I don’t know, out?” You glare at a smirking Konoha as Bokuto slings an arm around around your shoulders, pouting at you pleadingly as he bounces on the balls of his feet. 

“The other teams manager’s letting them go!!!” 

“What if you hurt yourself, Bo?” You frown, and Bokuto gasps before locking pinkies with you, staring you dead in the eye before crossing his heart with his finger. 

“I solemnly swear I will not get hurt, Y/N.” 

“Do you even know what solemnly means?” 

“Nope! Akaashi said it once though-” 

“I’m against this as well.” Akaashi puts a hand on the back of his neck, peering down at you as blue eyes notice the shift of your feet in place. “We can go exploring tomorrow-” 

“No.” You interject, noticing the immediate wilt of Bokuto’s shoulders before pinching the bridge of your nose, sighing heavily to yourself. “...we can go tonight. Some of you have way too much energy, maybe walking around will tire you guys out.” 

“‘Atta girl!” Konoha glomps you as Bokuto hugs your other side, and you laugh a bit as Komi and Sarukui go to gather the flashlights from the other teams-

A dark-haired setter the only one to notice the lilt of nervousness in your laugh among the chaos. 

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

10:12pm

“Y/N, do you want to hold my hand?” 

“Konoha, stop making moves on her, it’ll never happen.” 

“Shut it, Komi!” 

You force a chuckle, trudging along behind a talkative Bokuto as Akaashi strolls besides you, glancing at you once in a while as you keep your hands deep in your pockets, ensuring that no one would be able to see the nervous clench of your fists. Akaashi lifts another branch for you as you smile in thanks, eyes flitting around the dark as you swallow tightly. 

“You didn’t have to do this, you know. You could’ve stayed.” Akaashi’s talking before he can stop himself, and you blink at the abruptness of his words. 

You frown, laughing a bit at Akaashi’s usual polite tone before nudging the quiet boy with your shoulder once. 

“Careful, ‘Kaashi- you might make me think you don’t want me here.” 

Akaashi’s jaw clenched in the dark, noting the waver in your voice before making a calculative decision. His chest twinged as his lips parted, words slipping out quietly as the rest of the team laughed among themselves. 

“And what if I say I don’t?” 

Your feet slow, Akaashi walking ahead to merely glance back at you as the smile on your face completely disappears. 

“Am I...slowing you guys down?” Your hurt tone made Akaashi look forward, unwilling to see the flash of pain across your face as he wishes he could take it back-

“Yeah.” Akaashi says tightly, noticing the other boys have quieted down as well, the tension at the back of the group now noticeable as everyone seems to still. 

“No she’s not, Y/N don’t listen-!” 

“It’s alright, Bo.” You say softly, forcing a chuckle as you avoid everyone’s stares. “I’ll head back. I know the way.” 

“I’ll go with you.” The tension in Akaashi’s chest relaxes, and he begins to follow you before your snapped response makes him stop in his steps. 

“No. I want to go by myself. I might slow you down, Akaashi.” 

Akaashi opens his mouth to press the matter, but Konoha’s faster. He clasps the blue-eyed boy’s shoulder in annoyance, shaking his head with a you’ve done enough, gesture. You were already far now, and Akaashi stared wide-eyed after you-

his plan to get you back to safety completely backfiring. 

“Go, Akaashi, king of sucking the fun out of things.” Bokuto says childishly, nudging his friend a long as Akaashi casts another look into the now empty darkness behind him-

wishing he hadn’t said anything in the first place as he prays you reach the camp before they do. 

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

11:00pm

“Maaaan, I’m beat.” 

“We should thank Y/N for letting us go.” Bokuto yawns as the boys trudge towards the camp sluggishly. 

“Some of us have a lot of things to say to Y/N.” Konoha says carefully, refusing to glance in Akaashi’s direction before scoffing. “Let’s go make sure she got here safe, she should be sleeping by now.” 

Komi and Sarukui emerge a few moments later from the entrance of the girl’s dormitories, running frantically as Konoha blinks in confusion. Bokuto wipes the tiredness out of his eyes as the two boys pant out of breath. 

“Y/N never came back!” 

“What?! Shit, we have to go back-” 

“The teachers are out looking, right now-” 

Konoha laughs bitterly, gritting his teeth before spinning on his heel with an accusatory edge to his voice. “What the hell are you gonna do now....Akaashi?” 

But he was already gone.

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

12:01pm

It was dark. 

You didn’t know how many minutes or hours it had been, deciding to stay put instead of venturing further into your worst fear. All sense of direction lost, you had sat in a patch of daffodils, seeming to shine in the moonlight as you willed anyone to come. 

The pain in your ankle causes you to hiss as you stretch your leg out in front of you, unable to walk anymore. You stare up at the moon, fear now an exhausted emotion in your veins. 

Anyone. Please, anyone.

You should have pressed to stay with the group. You knew you wouldn’t be able to come back on your own, so why didn’t you? 

Akaashi’s face flashes in your head again as your eyes seem to well up with more unshed tears, wondering why his words had as big of an impact on you as they did. 

Keiji. The most sensible one on the team, always trailing besides you, the first to give you high-fives before matches. The one to remind the team of your birthday, always saving you the seat next to him at lunch under the trees. Keeping the boys in line when they show up for morning practice so you can take a much-needed rest, sometimes an extra breakfast packed away in his bag-

Why did it hurt so much coming from him? 

“Don’t kid yourself.” You whispered to yourself, realizing you were all alone. There were no feelings to hide in front of anybody anymore. Your face found your knee again, feeling the material of your pants wet with your tears. “You know why. You’re in love with him.”

You sniffle, feeling absolutely dumb. Feelings took precedence over your safety as you had stomped away, childishly not realizing Akaashi just wanted to bring you back to camp. Of course he noticed, what made you think he wouldn’t?

“And what if I say I don’t?” 

You whimper, digging your hands into the dirt beneath you, collecting strewn petals. 

“Keiji.” It was soft. Your tone was completely defenseless as you sobbed into your dirtied palms- 

“I’m here.” 

Your eyes snap open, head jolting up. You relax when you see that you had imagined it, not seeing anyone in front of you as you chuckle humorlessly. 

“I’m going insane.” You whisper-

a jacket with Fukurodani’s colors slipping over your vision. 

You gasp, taking the jacket laid across your head off your face to look up owlishly at a panting Akaashi, stripped off his team jacket as he stood in front of you in just a fitted black shirt. He bends at the knee, tilting his head at you as he finds stability in his voice despite the breathlessness. 

He felt punched in the stomach at the sight of dirt streaking your cheek, a trail of tears flowing from each eye freely as the look of fear on your face melts into one of relief. 

“Are you hurt?” 

“K-Keiji...” You blink, not believing the sight of the beautiful boy bent in front of you. Akaashi clears his throat, wiping some sweat from his brow before cupping your cheek gently, smiling softly when you lean into his touch. Your eyes well up with tears of relief before Akaashi tugs the material back over your eyes.

“You hate people seeing you cry, right?” 

“M-My ankle...” Is all you manage out, and you feel Akaashi assess the damage, frowning when the slightest touch makes you wince. The blue-eyed boy takes his jacket, wrapping it around your shoulders instead before facing the opposite direction of you. You blink as he presents his back, glancing back at you with a softness in his eyes you can’t pinpoint. 

“Wrap your arms around my neck.” 

“I’m too heavy...” 

“You aren’t.” 

You shakily comply, feeling Akaashi carefully lift your legs before beginning to trudge a long. The silence was thick with unsaid words as you breathe in his scent, piggybacking on the setter as you struggle to find the right words. 

“Keiji-” 

“I’m sorry.” His voice cracked as your eyes widen, and he pauses for a brief second within the silence. “Y/N, I just wanted...” 

“I know.” You cut him off with a hush, the pain in your ankle dulling to a slight throb. 

“I never meant-” 

“I know.” 

“...wanted to keep you safe-” 

“Keiji?” You cut him off a second time, and Akaashi stills his movements completely as you rest your head on his shoulder, the setter feeling tears wet his shoulder as you smile in the darkness. 

“Thank you for finding me.” You whisper, and Akaashi lets go of your good leg for a second to hastily wipe at his eyes. 

“Are you crying?” Your tone is teasing now, and the dark-haired boy scoffs, beginning to walk again. 

“Look who’s talking.” 

“Hey!” You protest, feeling his grip on your legs tighten ever so slightly. Akaashi glances back at you, and you gasp, pulling back a little on instinct from your place on his back. 

“Y/N.” 

“What?” You question hastily, embarrassed at the proximity as Akaashi’s lips stretch into a slight smirk. 

“If you’re gonna confess, confess to me, not when you think nobody’s listening.” 

Your face turns hot, the pain now unnoticeable as your eyes turn owlish, beginning to stutter excuses. 

12:36

Akaashi turns his head, blue eyes bright in the moonlight as he whispers against your lips. 

“Though I think you can guess my answer.” 

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

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[embywolf]

Zelink Week Day 5: Domesticity

Okay so here goes: I suck with grammar stuff, maths/physics are not my strong point, I know nothing of birthing and I've never written anything for fun like this. I had the idea a while ago and it might not work as I decided to try and fit that idea into the prompt for today. I'm very nervous to be posting this and I may well delete it later but for now, here is my first ever attempt. Also no idea how to format it on Tumblr, or at all if I'm being honest but figured I'd add a line as this came out longer than I expected ^_^;

I'm rambling now, can you tell? *Hovers over post button*

_________________________

Day 5 – Domesticity

She had his hand in a vice like grip, knuckles turning white. It ached, but not as much as his heart did at the sounds of her panting and pained screams. He kissed the side of her head where her hair was matted to her face with sweat. His emotions were all over the place but at the same time there was nowhere else he would rather be right now. As much as he hated her to be in any form of pain, he knew it was temporary and would be so worth it.

He murmured into her ear “You’re doing so, so well my love. Not much longer now, you can do this”

She panted hard and fast, anticipating the next contraction. He was perched on the edge of her bed, one leg laid straight alongside her, the other on the floor. He had one arm around her shoulders, hand rubbing soothing motions down her arm while the other was either placed on her stomach or, when her contractions started up again was held tightly in her grip for support.

From her parted legs and bent knees, Impa, her most trusted and loyal friend peeked above the white sheets that were draped over her. She grinned at the both of them before looking straight into Zelda’s eyes “I can see the crown! Another few good pushes and she’ll be with us”

Zelda whimpered. She was so very tired; she wasn’t sure how much more pushing she could do. As if Link had read her mind he spoke softly against her cheek “I know you tired, love. You’re so strong and we’ll soon get to meet our little girl. A few more pushes, can you do that for me?”. Zelda nodded, heaving out a massive breath as she could feel the tension of another contraction beginning.

“Zelda, I need you to give a nice big push with your next contraction” Impa urged. Zelda clenched Link’s hand once again as the contraction came over her. She strained and grunted so hard into the push that her whole face became red and heated and Link couldn’t help but be in awe of her strength. He didn’t think it was possible to love her more than he did right now in this moment.

Although the pregnancy wasn’t exactly planned, they both knew that they had wanted children together eventually. It was a given knowing that she was the reigning sovereign of Hyrule and it was expected of her to have an heir. As was tradition, there always had to be a Zelda successor, so as soon as they found out about the pregnancy everyone had begin called the baby Little Zel (they hadn’t officially decided on a name if they weren’t sticking with tradition, but it was better than called her an ‘it’ or ‘she’).

“Good girl, keep pushing!” Impa urged, the excitement rising in her tone “Her heads out! Continue your panting until you feel the need to push again.”

Link placed the hand that had been running up and down her arm to the side of her head, pushing lightly to encourage her to rest her head against his shoulder. He closed his eyes and run his hand through her hair, humming quietly in an attempt to try to sooth his wife. His wife! How did he end up so lucky? He thought absently.

“Link?” Zelda breathy voice broke through his thoughts

“Hmm?” He stopped his humming at the sound of her voice, opening his eyes to glance at her.

“Thank you for being here for me… for us” she says, placing one hand on her belly. He kissed her sweaty forehead and looked deeply into her eyes “There is no place in the entire world that I would rather be right now. Thank you for letting me be here for the birth of our girl – our daughter, Zelda.”

Her lips curled up in a brief smile and she hummed contentedly at his words before her face scrunched again as her next contraction overcame her.

“One more big push” Impa exclaimed and Zelda tensed her shoulders, sat up slightly and heaved.

“Hear that, Zel? One more big push and she’ll be with us” he was rubbing circles between her shoulder blades now, doing what little he could to somehow try and ease even a fraction of her pain.

“Keep pushin-“ Impa was interrupted as Zelda let out a noise between a shout and a wail. An ear-piercing cry broke out into the room as Little Zel took her first breaths of Hyrulian air.

“She’s here!” Link choked on a sob, catching Zelda in his arms as she flopped back on the bed, panting hard.

“She certainly is!” Impa grinned as she tended to the new born babe. She had checked her airway to ensure it is clear and listened to her strong heartbeat. “She’s a healthy, beautiful baby-“ she started as she began to wrap her up ready to present her to her parents when Impa noticed something… unexpected… “boy” she gasped out in surprise.

Impa placed the boy in his mothers arms who had tears flowing down her face and the biggest smile graced her features. She bundled the baby up looking lovingly down into his face and said in the most heart-warming voice “Hello my boy” she breathed out in a sort of laugh sob “hello ourboy” – she was looking at Link now who was freely crying and looking between both his son (his son! Hylia, he has a son!) and his wife. He placed his hand on top of the babies head, cupping it slightly and rubbing the fine, sand coloured hair there as Zelda leaned in towards him. He kissed Zelda’s head again and looked down at the bundle in her arms, awed and stunned. He was swept up in the feelings of love and pride in the strength of his wife growing this beautiful little life in her body and going through the pain of birthing. “Hello, son” he said in a breathy whisper.

---------

“What does this mean, Impa?” Zelda asked as she nursed her son, who apparently had the appetite of his father. Link was still sat beside her on the bed watching Zelda take to motherhood like a natural, completed besotted with his little family.

“I.. I’m not sure” Impa stood at the foot of the bed which had since been cleaned since the birth. “I plan on speaking with the elders and consulting some of our Sheikah texts to see if this has ever happened before in our history. I suspect not, something this significant would surely be common knowledge among us.”

Link glanced up at this “So you think that Zelda having a son is significant in the eyes of the goddess and not merely a matter of biology?”

“You know the legends as well as I, Link. You know that Hylia incarnate is always female as is the nature of maternal bloodlines” Zelda wasn’t looking at either him or Impa, she was fascinated watching her boy as he greedily suckled. She didn’t care either way that he way a boy, he was hers and she was so totally and utterly in love with him.

“Now that I know he is nursing properly I think it is time to take my leave and investigate this little miracle” Impa smiled warmly “it is also advisable that baby has skin on skin contact with his parents to help with bonding” She looked pointedly at Link “Both his parents”. She stepped towards the door before looking back at the little family “Oh, and your highness? I think you may need to consider a different name for him. Little Zel hardly seems to suit him, don’t you think?” She grinned and made her way out through the door, leaving both doting parents cooing over their new addition.

Once they were alone the little Hylian hiccupped softly, Zelda looked towards Link with pride in her eyes as he stared down at the boy and laughed lightly at the cute noises he was making. “I think it’s time this little one gets some bonding time with his father, don’t you?” She said as she shifted on the bed, cradling the baby gently and holding him out to Link. For a brief moment the baby wriggles at the change in position, stretching his limbs before snuggling up into the crook of Link’s arm. He yawns and one of his outstretched arms meets with Links hand, his tiny fingers curling around one of his fathers. Link choked on a sob as Zelda rests her head on his shoulder

“We need to name him”

“A significant name for a significant boy”

“What do you suggest?” He asks gently, her face falters at that. She has no idea. Neither does he.

“I.. I really don’t know. Any names I can think of are all girls names and that would be assuming we broke with tradition and didn’t use Zelda. Like Hope or Harmony – something that signifies the fact he was born after the calamity was vanquished.”

“You say something significant, right?” To which Zelda nods “What about ‘Rise’ as in surp-rise? After all he certainly is a surprise”. “Link please, be serious.” She looked at him with a raised brow.

“Okay, what about Finn. As in the end of the calamity?”

“No, he doesn’t look like a Finn”

“Miri like ‘Miracle’?”

“Nope”.

“Hmmm” Link ponders for a while, mummering to himself “He was born in a time of peace, where balance has been restored and tranquillity reigns –“ Link cuts himself short. “What about Quill? As in Tranquillity. That’s what his birth represents Afterall, tranquillity after a hard-won battle”

Zelda looks into the face of the child in his arms, sleeping peacefully nestled against his chest. “You know, I quite like it. It suits him. What do you think, Quill?” Zelda smiles after testing the name out loud and as if he was in agreement one of the babies cheeks scrunched up adorably, the edge of his mouth raising slightly as if he was smiling.

---------

Once Zelda and Quill had been given the all clear by the Doctors the new family were allowed to leave the infirmary and go back to their suite. Quill had been sleeping soundly in the bassinette that was placed by Zelda’s side of the bed which gave Zelda chance to rest herself. She was exhausted and sore, and as much as she wanted to keep just staring at her new son her body was struggling to stay awake. She fell asleep listening to Quills gentle breathing as Link was emptying the bags that they had taken with them to the infirmary when her labour had started. As he went to put something away in their bedroom, he noticed that Zelda had fallen asleep and stood leaning against the doorframe to just watch and take in the beautiful sight before him. While they slept Link showered to try and wake himself up a little. Zelda’s labour had been intense and long lasting, he has stayed up with her throughout it all and he was determined to let her rest while he took care of the both of them.

He came out of the bathroom with his hair down and messy from being towel dried, said towel draped over his shoulders to avoid getting his bare back soaked. He was wearing only his trousers as he busied himself around the room. He stopped what he was doing when he heard Quill start to stir and he seen Zelda’s face twitch slightly as if she was about to rouse from her sleep. Deciding she had had nowhere near enough rest yet Link picked Quill up from his basket and held him against his chest mumbling slightly as to not wake her.

“I’m here, little one” he said softly. “Mummy is resting right now and we need to be quiet to let her sleep, okay?”. He walked to the other side of the bed where he carefully lay down beside Zelda, his back propped against the pillows and his son resting against his chest. The boy calmed down upon contact with his father as Link patted his back soothingly. Quill burped then bunched his hands in the towel around Links shoulders who let out a small chuckle and began stroking his back softly. This repetitive and calming motion lulled both to sleep and it was Zelda that roused first, opening her eyes to the sight of Link and Quill snoozing together. It struck her then just how much like Link he is, he certainly had his hair and maybe his eyes. From the little glimpses Zelda had gotten his eyes looked like they may be blue but he had his mother’s nose and the same chubby cheeks that Zelda had had as a child.

She lay there in silence, enjoying the moment when a soft knock came at the door. Link roused from his nap and Quill stirred but didn’t awaken. “Come in” Zelda spoke softly but loud enough to be heard through the door, which opened as Impa popped her head around the door glancing around to look for the room occupants. “Your highness?” She questioned as Zelda rose from the bed wincing “I can come back at a more convenient time?” She said as she noticed Zelda emerging slowly and carefully from the bedroom

“Not at all Impa, please take a seat. I trust you are here having sought council with the elders?” Zelda lowered herself into one of the lounge chairs slowly, using the arm rests to support her before gesturing for Impa to take a seat at the chair opposite. Link, upon hearing Impa’s voice joined them in the lounge area, Quill’s head resting gently on his shoulder as his little legs were curled beneath him against his fathers chest. Link had draped the towel in such a way to cover most of his chest but was sure to leave the shoulder Quill was resting on exposed. He nodded and smiled warmly at Impa as he handed the baby to Zelda as he started fussing quietly. When he was settled in her arms Link glanced down at her lovingly and gave her a quick peck on the head and rubbed his knuckles softly against Quill’s cheek before heading back into the bedroom to retrieve a clean shirt.

Once he was fully dressed and had bought a tray of tea to the table between the two women, he took a seat next to Zelda as she slowly rocked the baby in her arms.

“As you both know I warped to Kakariko this afternoon to consult the ancient texts and speak with those much older and wiser than myself.” Impa began, her head tilted to one side as she watched the family in front of her fondly.

“Did you find anything of interest” Link piped up; his voice slightly hoarse from sleep.

Impa nodded, a small smile gracing her lips “I did.” To which Zelda looked up into Impa’s eyes and awaited what she had to say.

“So, as I suspected, have a male heir has never happened in the history of the royal family blessed by the goddess. I found an old passage in one of the very ancient tomes that we barely look at due to its fragile state. If I translated correctly, which according to the librarian I did, the passage spoke of a triangle that varies from the triforce in that it is more of mathematical equation rather than anything else. It speaks of forces that occur in nature and being able to calculate the distance, speed and time of an object which, apparently, if applied to the triforce gives us the answer to the calamities end.”

Zelda raised her eyebrow “but the calamity has been defeated in the past before, and still there has been no male heir born to the triforce of wisdom afterwards. So why now?”

“Because the equation has never been fully solved before” Impa says with a knowing smile. It wasn’t often that Zelda was slow on the uptake so Impa decided to continue, grabbing a piece of paper and a pen from the table in front of her in order to demonstrate what she means.

“If we place the triforce pieces in their usual positions with power at the top, wisdom bottom left and courage bottom right…” Impa draws the triforce as it has always been known “…and then we apply the mathematical formular gathered from the texts…” She draws a horizontal line below power then a vertical line between courage and wisdom “…we get the equation for defeating the calamity permanently.” She glances up at the two of them where she is perched on the end of her seat.

“I.. I’m sorry Impa but I don’t quite follow.” Zelda admitted honestly, to which Link was grateful as it meant he didn’t need to admit out loud that he too was confused - If Zelda wasn’t quite grasping it then he didn’t feel so stupid after all.

Impa wrote the equivalent formulae to accompany the triangle, also adding an ‘x’ between the vertical line. The equation read p = w x c. Zelda gasped slightly as she finally understood “Wait, so you’re saying that… that”

Impa nodding again “that’s exactly what I’m saying. The prophecy suggests that for the calamity to be beaten permanently, never to be reincarnated again then wisdom and courage need to combine. This has never happened before as previous incarnates of wisdom and courage have never been together in this way and certainly never producing offspring.”

Zelda looked to Link then, speaking softly almost in a trance “our son is a blessing from Hylia telling us that it’s over. And not just for this generation but for eternity!” Zelda’s eyes were misted up as she looked at Quill.

“In order to overcome the bane of power, wisdom and courage must combine not only in battle but also in surrender. The coming together of the two produces a force so great that not even malice incarnate can prevail.” Impa quoted from the text and gestured to the boy in Zelda’s arms.

---------

A few weeks later once Zelda had sufficiently recovered from birth and the new family had had some bonding time, the champions and the Sheikah scientists were invited to the castle for a private celebration of both the end of calamities and to introduce Quill to their friends before a formal announcement to the kingdom.

The gathering was held in a private pagoda in the castle courtyard near to the gardens with a spread of delicious foods to cater to everyone’s tastes. The group were sat together awaiting the arrival of the guest of honour. They stand when they see Zelda and Link approaching the table and as they get closer they could see Zelda’s eyes were already misty with tears of pride as she stood in front of all her most treasured friends, with Links left arm resting across her lower back and her son in her arms facing away from the group.

“Everyone” Zelda spoke in a soft but clear voice “Link and I are so very happy that you are here to join us. Your bravery and skill have proven vitally important to get where we are today, and as I know you are all aware the calamity is over and shall never plague this world again.” Everyone around her nodding and made small, gratifying sounds of approval. “It is now, in this time of great peace and tranquillity that I would like to introduce to our blessing and proof of our everlasting victory.” At this, Zelda jostled the boy in her arms carefully. “Everyone, I’d like you to meet Quill!” Zelda beamed as she turned Quill in her arms so that he was facing her treasured allies and friends.

Most of the group cooed and ‘awwed’ at Quill, and even Revali dropped his snide remarks to look over the baby with a small nod of his head to Link. It was then that realisation hit him, as he watched his wife's wide smile and beaming face as she conversed joyously with those her held most dear – they had done it. They had given Hyrule the peace it so desperately deserved after all this time. This was now the age of tranquillity, and all across Hyrule the people would be able to safely indulge in a life free of calamity, a life of true domesticity.

#Regretting this already #Legend of Zelda #Zelink #I'm going to hide now #May delete later #Zelink fic #zelinkweek #AoC #age of calamity

[scrawnytreedemon]

Can’t sleep, mind going precisely 56 miles an hour, so I think I’ll finally get around to writing this.

Couples days back, I went ahead and finally psyched myself up to do the Zant bossfight.

Because I’d picked up where I’d left off yesterday, which was just before the boss room, obviously I was taken back to the beginning of the area. This gave the whole ordeal a trek, if a short one, what with the Palace of Twilight’s laughable length, and me more time to think.

I didn’t want to do this.

It sounds stupid, but I really didn’t want to do this. I’d cried the day before trying to psych myself up and failing, and I’d cried then, before the boss door, stalling by sweeping away the crystal-fog as best I could-- A meagre attempt at housekeeping, and a futile one. Of course I couldn’t. This isn’t that sort of game. This isn’t a game for failed attempts at kindness, at least trying to clean this awful, awful place for an awful, awful man going through awful, awful things. I was supposed to be a hero.

Heroes don’t make beds.

They don’t wash dishes, or hang laundry, or hold a rival’s hand,

They kill.

The trek didn’t stop past the door, either.

We still had to walk up the stairs. To the throne.

To him.

And I was there, laugh-crying, wishing I didn’t have to. That I could skip this pathetic ordeal.

I tried to turn around and leave.

Despite it only looking like a larger one of the many, many doors we’ve passed through this awful, nonsensical, poorly-designed excuse for a palace that no one could ever live in, it didn’t budge. There wasn’t any turning back. I had to go forward, because this is an action game, and violence is key.

The game takes the reigns. Link walks up to the throne, sword drawn, despite my deliberate decision to sheathe it. The narrative begins again. Midna sneers, and throws a taunt at him.

Zant sits, and smiles. Smiles like he thinks he still has some form of control, or knows full well he’s lost it.

You know, when I was working through the Palace of Twilight, I’d come to the realisation that... Zant locked himself in the throneroom. From the outside. Logistically, despite the good laugh I had over this guy locking himself in from the fucking outside, where his opponents can grab the key, he could get out easily-- teleportation and all. But even that aside, it still spoke to a level of hasty panic, that he would even keep the key outside, behind a waterfall of yet more shitty fog-crytals in the hopes that would deter them. Deter us.

How long had the guy been here, alone in that room?

We all know what happens next. Despite this being my first playthrough, I’ve probably seen this cutscene a dozen times. Zant has what amounts to an overly-dramatised autistic meltdown expositing himself and his motivations. That he was upset and felt like everything he’d worked for had been taken away from him. That he was angry, angry and fed up of being relegated to a half-existence. Midna retorts, Zant wails some more.

What gets me is that, when Ganondorf visits him, engulfs him in this flaming ball of fucked-magical-fuckery, he just. Stares. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t do anything. Ganondorf speaks as though he’s already decided that, yes, you will do, we will make a pact and rule Everything together; I will live on through you.

Did Zant even agree to this?

I think, subconsciously or not, he accepted it, but it begs the question of whether or not Zant was capable enough to partake in it.

Whatever the answer, he’s clearly not capable enough to partake in this. This fight.

It’s laughable, that I’m expected to find victory in this.

The fight was a fucking slog, 90% of the time. Some of these boss-battles I hadn’t played in nearly two years thanks to the impromptu hiatuses I’m so fond of taking, so I didn’t know what the fuck I was meant to be doing half the time-- And when I did, it lagged to shit everytime this poor bastard fired projectiles, because I was playing on the gamepad, because why on earth would I play this on the goddamn TV? It was a sad, pitiful encounter that I had to laugh my way through and also mumble “what the fuck“ on several occasions because I guess somebody at Nintendo ate cheese before bed and the dev team were so desperate to patch something together for this guy’s sudden crisis that they threw it in-- I’m obviously having a good laugh, but What The Fuck.

I knock the guy down in the last phase of the battle, the only one where he isn’t mimicking something else and dizzies himself spinning like a hyperactive child, and the game takes the reigns again. Midna prepares her hair. I look away-- I’ve seen it before, many times before, and it’s cartoonishly grotesque for a game that relies heavily on somber semi-realism. Midna has her own crisis-- And yeah, yeah bossbabe, I feel it.

It cuts back, and there’s a Heart Container on the guy’s throne.

I.

I killed a guy, and now I’m collecting his lifeforce. I stormed into the bunged-up attempt of a fortress conjured up as a last defense by a man who’s fallen head-first into insanity, tore through any meagre security measure like butter, murder the guy when he’s having an episode, he dies a fucked up death, and then I collect his lifeforce.

Is that fucked up or what?

For all of Zelda’s endless violence, rarely do you actually kill “people.“ It’s the kind of stuff reserved for the end, for Ganondorf, or some other corrupted nigh-demigod on the brink of losing their humanity, or never having possessed it.

We kill Zant.

Zant barely puts up a fight, and we kill him. Zant gets summoned from the netherworld by Ganondorf in Hyrule Warriors; we put him there in the first place.

If we were to view this from a literal, like this shit actually happened and these characters are to be held accountable standpoint, then what we did was justified-- If not wholly, then mostly. Zant got power-hungry, committed what amounts to a bio-terroristic coup on the government, disfigured his rival, a woman notorious for her beauty, then proceeded to attempt the same thing with Hyrule, leading to the indirect death of at least the people who got transfigured into Shadow-Beasts in Kakariko, and attacks you first, then yeah, no biggie?

But I’ll be fucking real with you chief, I don’t find it... I don’t know, persuasive? Effective? Compelling, would be the best word, to think of it that way?

What Zant is, is a narrative tool. One that was set up to be this big, bad interloper who you need to Take Down and Save Everything, as per usual Zelda format. The justification for why we should hate him, if I’m going to be honest, feels contrived, most of the time. He does some bad thing off-screen, Midna gets pissed, Midna and everyone within a 12-mile radius explains why we should be pissed in a way that often feels borderline developer-hand-y-- And that’s. Well that’s how Zelda usually is.

It’s justification to commit violence.

--To be clear, I don’t say this in a political sense. I mean it in the very literal “hit/kill a guy“ sense. And in all honesty, that’s kinda inherent to the ethos of action games. We enjoy catharsis-- We enjoy taking down big things, it’s satisfying! I’ve played a little Hyrule Warriors-- Loved the feel of it. Violence is inherent to even the most benign of action games, and it is what it is.

Where it falls short for me, is that with Zant, I don’t feel like I’m taking down some great foe that I should justifiably hate.

I feel like I’m a clearly more equipped person breaking into a room, and bludgeoning a mentally ill person.

I’m autistic. I may slot in easier to NT society than most, but I am autistic, and it makes me deeply uncomfortable to see something I’ve fucking gone through be used carelessly as flavour for a prelude to violence. I have meltdowns. They’re relatively rare, and mostly in my room, alone, but I’ve also experienced one out in public. It was only sobbing, but there’s a special kind of horror, of humilation in knowing other people, strangers, family, what have you, are seeing it, and all you can think is how much you failed.

I can’t fully articulate why I cried so much during this, quite frankly, menial ordeal. I’m half-embarrassed to even talk about it-- Because then that means caring too much, and I can’t care too much over a poorly-justified character that wasn’t even intended to be sympathised with and that most of the fandom laughs at. And I can’t say I blame them.

I guess at the end of the day it comes down to the ever-present pity; some strange, childish commiseration I’d indulged in ever since I was six and cooing over Bowser and how awful everything was for him, that despite my continuous efforts, I can’t ever seem to explain.

I didn’t like the Zant fight. It felt empty,

And all did was sweep cobwebs and try to turn back.

#scrawny rambles #scrawny speaks #tloz #twilight princess #zant #back at it again with anotherhgkjhgjkhgkhj #thoughts #i'm tired of how violence is used to handle everything i guess #i feel like i'm walking around with a hammer wanting to buils a little shed and maybe set it down and make soup and hand it out #but the game goes NO bludgeoning ONLY you MUST KILL ALL THE WRONGDOERS VIOLENCE IS THE ONLY WAY-- #cAN WE MAYBE??? N O T?? FOR ONCE??? #AGAIN to get onto another thing. fuckign. mnish cap. and how e/zlo i n s i s t s the only thing to do about v/aati is kill him #you know. #his child student. that HE TUTORED WHAT THE FU C K #AND EVERYONE??? THINKS IT'S F I N E?? #(slashes employed so it doesn't show up in those tagshdjjhgjkhg) #BUT YEAH WHAT EVEN #i suppose another part of this is just how. violence is glorified so much even in everyday culture. even in progressive circles. #[especially in progressive circles.] #ugh. god i really am a soppy little lawful good pacifist aren't i??? #hhgjhfjgjl #it's 12am forgive any typos

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter twenty-two: 11 things I hate about you 

Summary: Y/l/n Y/n, a third year at Sakura High School, is just a girl with a bad attitude towards anyone outside her small circle. When y/n’s younger sister starts first year, she gains a lot of attention. Unfortunately for everyone in school, the Y/l/n household has one rule, No dating till y/n does. Some people become just desperate enough to pay the leader of the “Monsters”, the trouble making group on campus, to date y/n. What will happen when she finds out? (All characters aged up to third year unless otherwise stated)

Tw: Swearing, fights, violence, oikawa piece of shit, black eye, teachers a dick, crying 

Word Count: 1.3K

An: So theres only 8 more chapters left of this story :0 I cant belive its almost done. I will be making a pull for my next idea maybe on chapter 26!!

An part2: Sorry my poem is so bad ugehgvy Tumblr wouldn’t let me format it nice so it is italicized !!

_______________________________________________________________

Third person pov- Time skip tp Monday 

Y/n closed her locker as Tendou was standing behind the door. 

“What the fuck do you want Tendou?” 

“Please just hear me out Y/n. It really isn’t what it seems.” 

“You took the money Tendou. You got paid to date me. So step the fuck back. I don’t want to be late to class.” 

“Y/n… Let me explain, please.” 

“See you in English if you decide to go again asshole.” She pushed past him and headed to where Shirabu was. 

“What did he want?”

“Just to try and make up some shit probably. I don’t have time for assholes.” 

“Speaking of assholes, you know how you showed me that shit from Oikawa at your place?” 

“Did he already try something?” 

“He walked up to me and apologized to my face.” Shirabu said. 

“Are you for real? He really talked a big load of shit about it and then took 5 steps and gave up.” Y/n said with a laugh. 

The two walked in the direction of their first period as Tendou walked outside to the underside of the bleachers where the Monsters hang out. 

“Guess... you look like shit. Where the hell were you all weekend?” Hanamaki asked.

“Nowhere.” He said as he lit his cigarette. The others looked around at each other. They know something was off with him. 

Second period came quick and Tendou ventured into his class today on the off chance Y/n would give him even the shred of attention. 

“Good morning class, Oikawa I need you to take off those sunglasses you are inside after all.” Mr Yagami said. Oikawa removed the glasses to reveal a large balck eye beneath them. 

“Looks like someone finally got tired of your shit Oikawa.” The teacher said with a laugh. “Well would anyone like to be the first one to present their writing piece today?” Y/n raised her hand faster than anyone else. “Ah Mrs. Y/l/n. Please come up to the front.” 

She stood up as she grabbed her notebook from her desk. She walked to the front of the room and made direct eye contact with Tendou in the back. 

“Start when you are ready Mrs. Y/l/n.” The teacher said, giving her permission to begin. She took a deep breath. 

“I hate the way you approach me, and the way you have so much confidence about it 

I hate how you made me give you a chance, only to show me your true intentions so much later, 

I hate your dumb hair cut and  how proud you are after spending all that time to style it. 

I hate how you call me babe and how you could easily change my mind about things, 

I hate your dumb motorcycle and how you drive it when I am with you, 

I hate how you never texted or called, not even left me an email.

I hate when I was upset with you, you knew exactly how to cheer me up with your dumb smile,

I hate how you knew I would fall for you from the start and you even called it, 

I hate how you made me laugh like I never experienced before. 

I hate how everything you told me was based on a lie,” 

She took a deep breath, tears began to flow from her eyes at that moment. 

“I hate how you made me fall for you but your feelings were only a big dumb lie, 

But mostly I hate the way I don't hate you...

Not even close, not even a little bit, not even at all.”

She slammed her book closed and grabbed her bag as she ran from the class room, now sobbing.   

Tendou stood up as he chased after her but she was already gone from the halls without a trace of her presence even being there. 

Oikawa appeared behind him.  

“Looks like your nickname was more accurate then I could have ever thought.” Tendou turned around as he grabbed Oikawa’s shirt. He slammed him into the locker behind him. Before anyone even had the chance to blink, Kyotani and Terushima were behind him. 

“I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but once highschool is over you will be nothing. Enjoy being a piece of shit for a little more time before we knock you down a few, monster style, you asshole. You fucked with the wrong man’s paradise. You will pay for it. How about another black eye to match the one Mei gave you hmm? I think that is honestly too nice to do.” He slammed his back again before he threw him to the ground and spit on him. Tendou stormed out the other two Monsters now joined the three that were there as they all left the building. 

Lunch time- small time skip 

Y/n was seated at the table next to Tsukishima who was next to her with Yamaguchi sitting across the table. Shirabu walked up with Kuroo and Bokuto behind him. 

“What the hell do you demons want?” Y/n spit out as them. 

“We come in peace. I promise.” Bokuto said as he raised his hands. 

“Unfortunately for me I have managed to befriend these two demons. Bokuto through volleyball and Kuroo by association. They told me some interesting shit about Oikawa though.” Shirabu said in a monotonous tone.  

“You can sit with us if you really want. I’m sure you will start beef with Oikawa though.” 

“He’s kinda in love with you so he probably thinks we would be doing reckon. That’s not why we are here though. I know what happened at the dance. Iwaizumi told us both about it.” Kuroo said. 

“I am so sorry Y/n! Please forgive me!” Bokuto shouted dramatically. He looked into your eyes and she could see he was on the verge of crying. 

“It’s okay! It’s not like you made him do it.” She said to him.

“No but I did get your number for him!” 

“He is exaggerating. He told Oikawa what locker number was mine and Oikawa went through my private property to get it.” Shirabu spoke up. 

“I won’t blame you for your friend being a massive piece of shit.” Y/n said with a smile. 

“Wow straight to the point, I like that.” Kuroo said.

“We can prove to you we are done with Oikawa if you’d like.” He pulled out his phone and showed her before he rescinded that he texted Oikawa ending their friendship. “Anyone who doesn’t support my deepest love for volleyball will never understand me.” He said with a serious look on his face. 

The rest of lunch they spent together, the few who had just met them had begun to feel different about the once Oikawa lackeys. They discovered they were not who they once thought and the same for the two new people who sat there today. The warning bell rang as they all were ready to separate. 

“Before we part, sorry shirabu. I talked shit about you one time in our old group chat with the other guys, not bokuto, I just felt like it would help me fit in.” Kuroo said. 

“I talked shit about you too cause I thought you were an annoying asshole like Oikawa. No hard feelings.” Shirabu said in his monotonous voice once again.  

“Wow all of you are brutally honest. I think I will like it here.” Kuroo said with a laugh. 

Everyone was now split up as Y/n was at her locker. Her phone Vibrated as she opened it to see another unknown number messaging her.  The message read: 

We need to talk after school...please… It’s satori by the way. I know you will say it too when you respond so I already told myself to Go to Hell before I sent this message. 

She sighed and put her phone back in her pocket. Her mind was stuck on him for the rest of the day. Even on her ride home with her friends and Mei, she could only think about what he might say to her when she finally answered.

_______________________________________________________________

Previous | Masterlist | Next 

An: Sorry again about the bad poem,,,, 

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#tendou smau #tendou x you #tendou x y/n #tendou x reader #haikyuu smau #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n

[calpops]

reassurance | c.h.

Your relationship with Calum is accidentally exposed to the public and you both have to deal with the hardships it entails. Based on the prompts “nothing is wrong with you”, “I’m not going anywhere”, “you’re the only one I wanna wake up next to” and “you make me feel safe".

1.7k words

dates with cal masterlist

Copyright © 2020 calpops. All rights reserved. This original work is not allowed to be reposted by anyone else on any platform in any format (translations included).

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Your eyes are glued to your phone screen, the light burning in the otherwise dark room. You sit alone on the edge of the bed. Calum is still at the studio, another late night of finalizing keeping the comfort of him from you. Photos are surfacing online and it’s the first time you’ve been publicly spotted with Calum. How you’ve managed to keep your relationship to yourselves for so long is baffling but something you both cherished. Now that’s broken; the intimacy taken from you and splashed across headlines and social media. Your hands shake and your phone screen comes in and out of view with the motion and burning eyes. You take in a shallow breath and swipe out of social media that makes your mind spin and heart ache. You fumble to dial Calum’s number and wait with bated breath as the phone rings and rings and rings. You didn’t expect him to answer; completely used to his voicemail greeting on nights when the band takes precedence.

He doesn’t answer and familiar words flood you but you can’t fathom getting your own words out, instead you hang up and toss the phone on the bed. Willing the entire situation away from you with the action. The photos and words attached to them are clear in your mind as you crawl into bed with your clothes still on; too tired and uncaring to change into pajamas. You can picture the snapshots vividly, they were taken at a distance but capture you both in a moment you thought was private. Intimate. His hands cupping your smiling face and his lips pressed to your forehead. The words of fans and media outlets burn in dark red behind closed eyelids. They’re fleeting but come back in haunting whispers as you wait. Wait for them to go away, wait for Calum to come home, wait for assurance that everything is okay and those words aren’t true. They’re lies and rumors and misconceptions based on wild theories. You try to remember that as time ticks on and Calum still hasn’t come home. It’s later than his usual late and doubts begin to plague you, to settle in your brain with twisted words and venomous vengeance.

It’s compulsory when you reach for your phone again; you try to convince yourself it’s just to see if he’s texted yet but no notifications from him light up the screen and yet you unlock the phone anyway. You don’t know why. You know how heavy the words were the first time you were presented with them. With only minutes between you dive back into the words from faceless people that shouldn’t hurt but make your chest tight and eyes well up with tears anyway.

You’re curled into your side with a quivering lip and tear stained cheeks when Calum finally gets home with phone in hand and worries hitting him hard and fast. He saw your missed call as soon as they wrapped up the session; the lack of voicemail to accompany it was unusual and spiked anxiety and questions through him. He raced home with only thoughts of you as the rest of the world became faded. He could’ve called but the drive was short and seeing you was his first priority—the lack of your voice on his messages instilling that need tenfold. He finds you in bed, day clothes still on, phone in hand and silent sobs escaping you. He doesn’t know what’s wrong but he’s moving to your side on instinct, replacing the phone with his hand as he pulls you up and to him. You’re shaking in his hold and he does his best to calm you and stop the tears. A million scenarios race through his mind and none of them are pleasant, most of them begin with loss and heartache and leave him breathless.

“Sweetheart, what’s going on?” He asks as gently as he can manage.

Calum’s in a half crouched position at the side of the bed, his arms wrapped around you as best as they can be. You sink into his embrace and take comfort in the familiarity of his hold; revel in his concern and use it to instill faith in the things you should already know and never forget. You don’t know if you can manage to say much, throat tight and burning and chest weighed down by revelations of the night. For a selfish moment you stay silent and press closer into him, holding onto the fragmented pieces of hope that everything is still okay. Calum didn’t want to go public with your relationship and you’d never batted an eye at that—also content to keep whats yours between the two of you with only friends and family knowing. Now that’s shattered. You never wanted to live under the scrutiny of media and fans and eyes always on you, seeing you, judging you. Now you’re shattering.

“There’s pictures,” you manage to choke out and pull away from him but guide him up to properly sit on the bed though his arms don’t want to leave you. He settles on the edge and pulls you back before you can even catch your breath. “Everyone knows. Everyone hates me.”

Calum goes still; you can’t even feel the rise and fall of his chest beating out breaths. He’s stoic and contemplative as he figures out your words and rejects their meaning. You peer up at him through hazy tears and find a frown creasing his features. Guilt eats at you—tries to tell you it’s your fault and he’s upset with you for the broken bit of privacy his life once had. You suck in a shaking breath and wipe at your face, determined to move away and find refuge and safety from the moment under the covers. But Calum shakes himself and doesn’t let you go, he’s soft and warm as he invites you back into his side and does his best to rid your face of the rest of the tears.

“Can I see the pictures?” He finally asks and you can hear the hitch in his breath as reality crashes through.

You slowly nod; the articles and tweets still litter your phone, all you have to do is unlock it and hand it over. Calum doesn’t let go of you as he accepts the device, his eyebrows furrow and brown eyes glint with recognition and then glimmer back to concern. He swipes through, rolling text passes in a blur and a sigh escapes him. You’re two seconds away from another sob but bite your lip and try to keep it in. He tosses the phone away and looks down at you, hands gentle as they come up to cup your face and lips warm and familiar as they place a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s about time the world gets to know how much I love you,” he says and leaves you shocked with disbelief.

You had no way to gauge what his response might be other than late night conversations detailing how much he values your shared privacy. That he appreciates you being okay with staying under the radar. One simple sentence blows all of that away, a kiss and a sigh accompanying it in a delicate form of reassurance. But hostile words from unknown people still settle in your heart and haunt your thoughts. Knowing Calum is okay with your relationship being public is only a slim margin of the battle. The rest comes in droves of hateful words and bold headlines.

“You don’t believe any of it, do you?” He asks abruptly, tone tight and clipped. You know he means the hate, the disparaging words that dance through social media so mindlessly, so heartlessly.

You force a shrug and wipe the rest of your tears away, eyes downcast at the notches in the wooden floor. You can hear his heartbeat, the steady rhythm grounding you and forcing you away from the spiraling whirlwind of negativity and doubt.

“Maybe some of it's true,” you whisper and feel the pull of Calum pulling you closer, holding you tighter, repositioning you to settle into his lap completely and find comfort in his actions.

“It’s not,” he says firmly and keeps his gaze steady on you. “No one else’s opinion matters. There’s nothing they can say to make me think there’s something wrong with us or you.”

He’s saying exactly what you need to hear, things you already know but need to be reminded. Taking your fears and doubts from other people’s words and pushing them away so effortlessly. Comments that pick you and your relationship apart don’t feel as heavy and honest when Calum’s there to lift them away and cast light on your truth. Calum’s always considered himself a man of few words but he always has the right ones in the right moments.

“They don’t know you like I do. They don’t get a say in our relationship. I’m not going anywhere; not without you. No one else’s opinions matter,” he repeats and kisses you again. “I hope you know that.”

You did and now you do again. You nod against his chest and decompress, body easing after hours of tension and uncertainty. You move with him as he leans you back against the pillows and toward the sliver of moonlight that peeks through slotted open curtains. It’s silent for a few minutes and in that time Calum sends out a tweet of confirmation and defense. You don’t know what it says and don’t care to look or ask; you trust him and his words. Know how safe and protected he makes you feel.

“Feel any better?” He asks as he turns his phone off and tosses it away too.

“Yeah,” you answer quietly and gnaw on your lip for just a second before asking, “you’ll be here in the morning?”

You have to ask, wanting to know if the band will take precedence again, if his side of the bed will be cold by the time you wake up because of an early morning session. But there’s another meaning that sinks into the question. Reassurance being sought out.

“Of course,” he answers just as softly, with two meanings capturing his voice. “Always wanna wake up with you, sweetheart.”

<< >>

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[unforth]

Ko-Fi Commission for Diminuel

@diminuel here you go love! <3 (sorry it’s not Naga Dean, I got it written before I saw your reply)

Fandom: Supernatural

Ship: Destiel

Rating: Explicit

Tags: A/B/O dynamics, canon adjacent, omega bottom Cas, alpha top Dean, mutual pining and idiots kinda sorta using their words, heat, mentions of Dean/Kevin (in a platonic “alpha helping an omega friend through a heat” way.)

Word count: 1,646 words.

Read on AO3 or read more...(ugh Tumblr is being impossible about formatting sorry it ate all the italics, sigh...you’re probably better off just reading it on AO3)

“Where is he?” Dean demanded, slamming open the door of bunker library and storming into the room. 

Startled, Sam jumped up from his chair, hand reaching for a pistol he didn’t actually have at his side when they were at the Bunker, and then relaxed. “Who, Cas? How did you kn--?”

“No, I mean the fucking Easter Bunny - of course I mean Cas!” Anger and arousal and anger about the arousal simmered beneath Dean’s skin. “And he’s been lighting my phone up with texts like you wouldn’t believe.” This was all wrong. “I didn’t even know he knew how to use the goddamn camera on his phone, much less how to send me a dick pic.” Cas didn’t - couldn’t - want Dean. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Oh, um.” Swallowing, Sam looked away, cheeks flushing. “Maybe you should, uh...I mean, he’s in his room. I thought you two…”

Dean glared, eyes narrowing. “We...what?” 

Come on, Sammy, I dare you to say you legit thought we were a couple, when you know better. He’s a fucking angel, and I’m a fucking mess, and he’d never…

“Nothing! I...look, Dean, I’m not involved. I offered, but he said it had to be you, so...go.”

...I’d never…

“What had to be me?!”

...that’s a total lie, I would if there was even a prayer that he’d want…

“Just go,” ordered Sam, gesturing toward the door and dropping back into his chair to hunch over whatever esoteric nonsense he was reading today.

...but he never would.

Grumbling, Dean obeyed, leaving the library and navigating the tunnels of the Bunker. His nose tickled, an unfamiliar scent permeating the air, and he tried to place it. It smelled a little like Charlie, with the soothing aspect of her betaness easing Dean’s tension even when he didn’t want his tension eased. It smelled a little like Kevin, especially that one annoying time he’d gone into heat, spicy and clinging and inescapable. It didn’t smell like Cas, who never smelled like anything. Jimmy had been an omega, Dean thought, but if Cas had a presentation type, Dean had never caught a whiff of it.

It smelled good, tempting, taunting. An itch teased down Dean’s spine, a whisper of desire thickening his dick.

It smelled wrong, like it didn’t belong, like Dean shouldn’t be following it.

Except he had to check on Cas.

Except the scent intensified the closer he drew to Cas’ room.

Except that Dean didn’t think he could stop himself pursuing the source of that enticing aroma if his life fucking depended on it.

Finally, he stood before Cas’ door. The mystery aroma suffused the air, and the explicit selfies Cas had sent him suggested intriguing possibilities, and Dean stood there, paralyzed.

If he added all the pieces up, it was hard to imagine anything other than that, somehow, Cas was an omega and had gone into heat.

And, if that was the case...the last thing Dean should be doing was knocking on that door.

Cas did not want Dean...but apparently, when he was in heat, maybe he did. Dean would never be that alpha. He would never--

“Dean?” Cas’ shout, frantic and deep and raspy and fucking sex incarnate, was barely muffled by the door. “Dean, you came! Please...oh, please…”

“Yeah,” Dean replied, heart aching. “I’m here.” He should walk away. “But I can’t…”

“I know,” Cas moaned, the scent intensifying. “...I know, I know, you don’t want...I mean...but…” The air was awash with musk and a heavy scent like a thick fog descending, and Dean’s erection stiffened. “...but just this once...please…”

Catching a lip between his teeth, Dean furious debated in his head as Cas continued to beg. On the one hand, Dean was never one to take advantage of an omega in heat. On the other hand, there was a world of difference between scenting a stranger and getting a dumbass alpha boner, and helping a friend through a difficult time. When Kevin had been desperate, Dean had offered himself up, after all...consent was a bitch in cases like those but friends were friends, and working it out after the fact was a time honored tradition...if Dean went in and helped Cas, it wouldn’t be any different.

“...Dean, I’m begging...I need you so badly...need you...only you…”

Right. Not a bit of difference. Nope. Not like Kevin really is just a friend, whereas Cas is…

“...I’ll do anything…”

...is everything...

“...I’m so hot…”

...is nothing...nothing to me...we’re nothing to each other…there’s nothing between us...

“I can’t,” Dean muttered, hoping like hell Cas could hear him, hoping like hell Cas couldn’t hear him and might stop babbling enticingly long enough for Dean to escape. “Cas...look...I get you feel all...some kinda way...right now...but you don’t actually…” Dean laid an arm over the door, leaned his forehead against it, and took a deep breath despite himself. “...you don’t actually want me…” 

Fuck, Cas smelled amazing.

“I do!” said Cas frantically. “I do, please - I need you.” He sounded like he was sobbing, and Dean’s heart could have broken - he wanted to help so badly, wanted to believe Cas so, so badly. 

But...

“...you don’t…”

...he couldn’t.

“I’ll show you!”

Surprised, Dean took a step back from the door and blinked as if the dull gray would tell him what the fuck Cas meant.

Naw, don’t need X-Ray vision to know what he means. He’s horny, and of course between Sam and I’d pick me, I’m hung, and Sam’s a little bitch. When I open this door, he’ll be on his bed, presenting a slick hole, and if my willpower doesn’t snap it’ll be a fucking miracle.

“Please!”

And even knowing all that, Dean couldn’t resist the desperate catch in Cas’ voice.

Fuck, but Dean was gonna hate himself when this was over.

Fuck, but I already hate myself…

With a resigned sigh, Dean pushed the door open and stared.

He’d been partially right - Cas was on the bed presenting a slick hole.

The wings were a surprise, though.

And Cas’ scent was fucking insane, powerful, unearthly, drawing Dean into the room like a siren’s call. He’d heard some nonsense about how a true mate might smell and had never believed a lick of it, and he didn’t believe it now, no matter how amazing Cas smelled, no matter how drawn to him Dean felt - this had to be some bizarre angel mojo, no “meant to be” involved, for all that Cas moaned like a damn pornstar when the first gust of Dean’s scent swept before him into the room. There was no fucking way this was Jimmy’s humanity at work. This was pure angel grace insanity, complete with black feathers, and Dean wanted...Dean needed…

“Bedside table!” Cas gasped, craning his neck to look back at Dean. His eyes were wide, his pupils blown, his cheeks coated with sweat and tears.

Who’d’a thought Cas would have protection next to the bed...good thinking though, I’m about 2.3 seconds from sinking in balls deep, and--

Dean tugged the drawer open.

There weren’t any condoms in the drawer.

There was a book with a leather cover and all the hallmarks of being a journal. 

“Read it - please read it - and then help me, if you still want to - I’ll understand if you don’t - but I need...need...and it can only be you, it has to be you, has to be…” Cas’ supplications dissolved into sobs as, confused, Dean withdrew the book and leafed through the pages…

...Dean, it said on one page...my mortal love, it said on another...anything for him, it said on yet another...doesn’t want me, on another page...here for him no matter what, on another...don’t need more than this, on another...but I want him, on another...page upon page of devotion and care written in Cas’ unmistakable neat handwriting.

Impossible.

The book dropped from Dean’s numbed fingers.

He can’t want me.

He can’t think I don’t want him.

“Dean!”

He couldn’t possibly…

Slowly, Dean turned toward the bed. Cas panted desperately, rocking back against nothing, eyes fixed on Dean...no, fixed on the bulge in Dean’s pants, his gaze was definitely directed down with the look of a starving man...and Dean stared.

...why would he…

“...need you…” Cas whimpered pathetically.

...but he does.

Certain this must be a dream, Dean crossed the scant steps separating them, fumbling hands undoing his belt on the first step, letting his pants drop on the second, stepping out of them on the third and fourth, and then he was beside the bed, and Cas was displayed before him like a banquet, and Dean’s cock was so hard it ached, and the scent of angel heat made him dizzy, and there was nothing, nothing between them except years of devotion and uncountable words of near-confessions that never said everything and desperation and pining and need and devotion…

...there was nothing between them, not a shred of cloth, not a single inhibition, not a hint of uncertainty.

Dean climbed onto the bed.

Though...they would have a fuckton to talk about once Cas’ heat was over.

Or it’s a dream, and I’ll wake up...either way, awkward feels talks can wait...hell, they can wait forever if I’m lucky...and Cas needs me now.

“Don’t worry,” murmured Dean as he pushed forward and the head of his dick breached that perfect, tight pucker for the first time. “I’ll take care of you.”

Everything could wait until Cas was sated - until Dean had been the alpha that Cas deserved.

“I know you will,” Cas whispered, rocking back against him. “You always do...always...always…”

Yes, Cas...always...always here for you...always your alpha...always your Dean…

...always yours.

#unforth writes #spn #destiel #lemon #alpha/beta/omega dynamics #bottom castiel #omega castiel #top dean #alpha dean

[ahopelessromantic]

Stops Along the Road ➳ D. Morgan

Pairing: Derek Morgan x Reader

Wordcount: Roughly 4k

Warnings: None really, some cursing, a gun wound, mentions of pregnancy, Morgan and the reader are stupid

Summary: The road to finding your way to Morgan once and for all was a long one, but you’ve never enjoyed a ride more. (A/N: I’m so happy to finally be writing again! Criminal Minds is back on Amazon Prime and back is my inspiration baby! I know this is a bit different from my usual stuff, but I quite liked the format of the little insights into the life of reader and Derek. I hope you’ll enjoy!)

The one with the flirting

“Okay, is it just me or was the captain heavily flirting with Morgan?” JJ grinned, leaning in closer to her colleagues so no one at the station would over her them. You were in the middle of packing up your stuff right by them, trying to listen in as inconspicuously as possible. „Oh god, please don’t bring it up.“ Emily laughed, sending a confused frown across JJ’s forehead. „Why that?“ „(Y/N) gets weirdly protective of Morgan when someone’s flirting with him. It’s almost like she wants to fight them every time.“ Spencer chimed in. It was just then that you realised you probably should have gone into hiding as soon as JJ had walked up to them with her ‘I have gossip’ face. „See?“ Emily grinned at her colleague, then at you. You wanted to disappear.

„Even Reid notices. You gritted your teeth. “I don’t want him to get hurt, so what? Derek is just as protective of me with guys. We look out for each other.” Emily looked like she wanted to continue poking around, but starting to feel defensive you snapped at her. “My friendship with Derek is not your business, okay? We are what we are, and no matter how weird it may seem to you, just accept it. We’re nothing to gossip about.” The bad conscience already kicked in while you made your dramatic exit, but you swallowed it down with a heavy sigh. Constantly working around the same people sometimes caused them to get a bit too close for comfort, and their eternal teasing about you and your best friend was starting to get on your nerves. The bond you and Derek shared couldn’t be described with words and certainly, wasn’t really comprehensible to people looking in from the outside, so you wished they could just take it as it was and let you two be. You had more important things on your mind than thinking about what your coworkers’ opinions on the relationship between you and your best friend, as much as you loved them. More important things like the next case that you had already been called in for, for example.

The one with the gun wound You knew that your job wasn’t easy. You knew it brought many dangers with it, and you knew that people were bound to wind up hurt at some point. But in all your worrying over your team, that was like family to you, you had never expected yourself to be the one getting injured at some point. But here you were, shot by an unsub that had been restrained by Prentiss mere moments after he had fired his gun at you. You were sitting on the floor, jaw hurting from clenching it too hard, Morgan kneeling next to you. His body exuded warmth you desperately needed, and you couldn’t be more grateful to have his soothing presence right there beside you. „Shh. Come on, keep on breathing.” He spoke calmly, but the way his hand was squeezing yours told you a whole different story. “It’s just a shot in the leg.” You rolled your eyes and groaned, trying your best to play it off. He looked at you with his dark eyes, a mix between a deadpan and a smile that only he was able to do. „Doesn’t matter, it‘s still gonna hurt and you don’t have to act all tough like it doesn’t, okay?“ You released the breath you had been holding in a cough, teeth still gritted. „I feel like once I acknowledge that it hurts I’m going to start screaming or cursing really bad. Possibly both.“ Your voice was fainter than you would have liked it to be. He gave your hand another squeeze. „Come on, let go. The paramedics will be here in no time and then they’ll dope you up on painkillers anyway. Will you unclench your teeth now before they shatter in your jaw, you stubborn woman?“ You half chuckled, half sobbed and then decided to hell with it. You relaxed your body and started taking deep breaths again, and with the breathing in came the pain. „Motherfucker!“ You yelled, an even worse string of curses escaping your lips right after. Derek just chuckled. „See, there you go. Just let it all out.“ You just glanced daggers at him. „You are so paying for the drinks next time we’re going out.“ He just chuckled. Sometimes you hated him.

The one with the wedding If someone were to ask you what you loved most about your best friend, you would probably tell them that he was easy. There was never any doubt with him, you didn’t have to question anything about him or your friendship. Morgan was your person and you were his. Period. Your support for each other was quiet, so quiet that other people sometimes forgot about just how deep your affection for each other ran. But his love was there when he placed you coffee order on your desk every morning without words, it was there when he gave you a birthday present you had once only shortly mentioned and then never spoken of again, it was there when you patched him up with your little to none medical knowledge after he had been too rough in kicking a door down once again. So it wasn’t really a surprise that he had been the one to find you hiding out in the gardens. You were sitting on a bench, feeling miserable in your little yellow dress. Normally you were a huge fan of weddings, a huge fan of love, but this one had set something off inside of you. Most of your friends from high school were long married already, your team members were tying the knot one by one, too, and here you still were, alone on a bench with no ring on your finger and no family to come home to. “Thought I’d find you out here.” Derek’s voice ripped you out of your thoughts, and you were so grateful to see his stupid face that you almost started crying. It was as if that man had a sixth sense for your emotions, a talent for always being right where you needed him. “I’m… getting some fresh air.” You lied, knowing that he wasn’t going to be fooled by it. He sat down next to you, his eyes mustering you as if they were trying to decode your emotions. “I thought you loved weddings.” You chuckled and looked up at him through your lashes. “I do. It’s just… something about this one is bugging me. I feel awful for even letting my thoughts go there, but I just couldn’t help it tonight. You know, everyone in there is happy, with boyfriends and husbands and wives and a future to look forward to, and all I’ve got is my job and a car that my best friend likes to steal.” Derek chuckled, probably picturing himself in your beloved BMW convertible for a moment. A comfortable silence spread between the two of you, and it could have stayed that way. Just two friends sitting in a garden, enjoying the evening. But you felt the urge to talk more about this gnawing feeling in your chest, to get to know if he, at least, felt like that too. “Don’t you ever get worried? About the future? That you’ll end up alone and sad, with no one to grow old with?” He exhaled, looking happy that you had opened up yourself without him having to squeeze it out of you. For a moment he looked pensive, his gaze wandering off into the distance. You watched him closely, the strong eyebrows, the delicate face. It was a face you knew like no other, a face that had seen you in all your worst moments. “No.” He finally spoke up. “I’m not worried.” He said with an almost reverent honesty that took you off guard. “I honestly don’t know what will happen in the future. But I know that you’re in it, and nothing calms me more than knowing that. So no matter what happens, there will be you and I.“ You sighed and leaned against his shoulder, causing him to place his arm around you. Somehow, those few words had calmed you. You weren’t going to be alone, ever. “I love you, Derek.” You murmured into the night. He turned his head to press a kiss against your temple. “I love you too. Now come on, let’s break up this little pity party of yours and make use of the open bar. I mean, how often do we get free booze?” You felt a smile grow across your lips against your will. “Basically never. But you have to promise to dance with me.” Morgan got up from the bench and held out his hand to you. “Honey, if you give me two more glasses of champagne I’ll even dance the chicken dance for you.” You threw your head back and laughed, taking his hand. “Alright, idiot. Let’s go give them a show.”

The one where his mother gets involved „I love seeing you two together so much.“ You blushed and, in an attempt to hide it, continued chopping the vegetables. „Derek always seems so free without you, you know? So happy. He doesn’t allow himself to be like that with anyone else.“ You dared yourself to look at your best friend’s mom, not expecting the look on her face to be so serious. „He’s just my Derek.“ You chuckled awkwardly, not really seeing the big deal in his change of behaviour around you. You acted differently when it was just the two of you as well, but wasn’t that how people were when they let their guards down? The smallest of smiles snuck across Mrs Morgan‘s lips. „Exactly honey, your Derek. He’s yours.“ You felt yourself freeze, but as if she knew exactly what she was doing the small woman smacked you with one of her kitchen towels. „You know how desperate I am for grandchildren, I’ll take any chance I get! Can’t you at least maybe think about it?“ You laughed, maybe a little bit too loudly, and rolled your eyes. „Nice try, Mrs M. But I’ll tell you when I get there.“ Morgan couldn’t help the weird feeling in his chest upon overhearing the conversation between you and his mother. Above all, of course, was the air of familiarity with which you interacted. You were never just someone who tagged along with him, these days you belonged into his family home almost as much as he did. But then, the deeper undertones of his mother’s words gnawed away at his subconscious, as if they were trying to unlock something that wasn’t there yet. Your Derek. After years of playing the role of the tough guy, the man of the family, a victim hiding the fact that he was just that, you had somehow been the first person he had allowed himself to be soft again with. For some reason, he only realised it now, how easily you had snuck past his guards and made yourself at home way beyond them. The words of an ex-girlfriend came to his mind. „I’m tired of trying to drill through your walls, Derek. There’s always some part of you that’s hidden from me and I don’t deserve that.“ She had been right, with her words, and right to break up with him. He hadn’t truly let someone new into his life in years. Not since you had come along anyway. But he shook his head and entered the kitchen with a bright smile plastered on his face. Today was not the day to think about such profound things. Today was all about his mother, and there would be other days to venture into unveiling the true nature of his affection for you.

The one where it’s enough It had been a while since the thoughts of you and him had started blooming in Derek’s chest. Maybe it had been his mother, maybe it had been the number of years you had already spent in your weird little companionship, but somehow, he couldn’t help seeing you in a completely different light. Suddenly every laugh you laughed was for him, suddenly every touch made his heartbeat speed up. It was almost as if he was a teenager again, only that his crush was his best friend and he couldn’t just run away from you without arousing suspicion. He watched you pack your bag at your desk, a gorgeous burgundy dress he had never seen before clinging to your figure. “Oh wow. You’re dressed up like that for him?” You turned around in surprise upon hearing your best friend’s voice. “Derek? What are you still doing here?” You were the last ones still at work, everyone else had left to go home or somewhere else already. You had shoved in some extra hours tonight, mainly to distract yourself from the evening ahead. An ex of yours was back in town, and he had made it more than clear to you that he had changed and that this time, he was ready to be serious about you. You didn’t even really know yourself why you had agreed to go out for dinner with him, maybe it was the fear of feeling as lonely as you had on the wedding again. Derek stepped closer to you, an almost desperate look in his eyes. You shuddered, not prepared for the intensity of his gaze. “Don’t go on this date, (Y/N). You’ll just allow him back into your life and settle for way less than you actually deserve and-“ You frowned and watched him shake his head in frustration, not able to read his behaviour. This was a side of Derek you had never seen before, one you didn’t know, and it made you anxious. But then, suddenly, he sent you one last weird look, stepped closer to you and grabbed your face to kiss you. You felt your eyes widen, looking at him in confusion after pulling away. “Wha- what are you doing?” You stammered out; afraid he had made a terrible mistake. There had always been clear lines between the two of you, lines that had never been openly discussed yet also lines that had never been crossed. Derek cupped the side of your face, forcing you to look at him. “I need to do this before I forever regret never taking a shot at us. I love you, (Y/N), and not just in the way I’ve thought. You’re not just in my future, I think you... you are my future. No one will ever fit as much with us like us. Our crazy jobs, our stupid addiction to cheesy 90’s music, the years of experience we have with handling each other through our highs and lows…We would be stupid not to at least try it.” You exhaled the breath you hadn’t even known you’d been holding in. “So don’t go on this date, don’t let this stupid guy make you think that mediocrity is all you deserve. We might not work out in the end, which I think is highly unlikely, but we definitely are anything but mediocre. I burn for you, (Y/N), and with the way we subconsciously keep sabotaging our own relationships I can’t help but hope that you feel the same.” You blinked at him for a moment, still not really sure about what exactly was happening. You didn’t even dare properly thinking it through, but not even that scared you. This felt right, as right as nothing in your life had ever felt before. It was Derek, after all. He was your person. So you held onto his strong arms, got on your tiptoes, and tentatively kissed him. This time it was him who looked at you in surprise after pulling away, his chest heaving as if he were out of breath. “I love you too.” You whispered. You looked at each other for a moment, trying to think of what to do next. And then you were all over each other.

The one where everyone finds out “We’re not telling anyone about this. This is our thing.” You spoke, closing the last two bottoms on your blouse. Derek watched you from where he was sitting on the edge of his bed, humming in agreement. “They’ll never let us live this down if we tell them that we’re together now. Can you imagine the teasing from Prentiss and Hotch?” You shuddered at his words, making your way over to him and sinking down on his lap. “This is just ours for now.” You smiled and kissed him carefully. Sometimes you still couldn’t believe you got to do that now, to just kiss your best friend whenever you felt like it. It was exhilarating, and you almost regretted all the years it had taken you to get to that point. He snaked his arms around you and pulled you closer, the warmth in his eyes robbing you of your ability to speak. “Ours.” He repeated as if he couldn’t believe it himself. You kissed him again, just to remind him of how much you were his now. Then the two of you got ready to go to work. It wasn’t exactly a rarity to see the two of you coming into the BAU together on some mornings, so you didn’t even bother arriving on separate times, and yet something seemed to be notably different about the two of you. Something so different that, when you saw Spencer slip a fifty-dollar bill into JJ’s hand, you knew that there was no keeping secrets in this godforsaken team. The teasing during the next few weeks was awful, and hadn’t the two of you loved your co-workers and friends so much you would have probably reported their bullying to HR. But nothing could overshadow your happiness at this point. You both felt as if you had finally fully stepped into life, finally stepped into your full potential. The happiest out of all the people over your getting together though, even happier than you yourselves, was Derek’s mother. She had yelled out in joy upon hearing the news over the phone, scolding Derek for how long she had known without him listening to her and making you laugh. A few months later you finally found the time to visit Derek’s family as a real couple for the first time, already feeling bad for how long it had taken you. The first half-hour was, again, spent with Mrs Morgan telling the two of you about how she had known all along and always wished for you to get together already. “Now, all I need to be completely happy is a grandchild.” She casually said over dinner and caused you to choke on your food. Derek hid his laughter in his napkin and threw you a look that just about said ‘you knew what you were getting yourself into’. “But I can see that we’re already close to that. How far along are you, (Y/N) dear?” Suddenly Derek wasn’t laughing anymore. You felt yourself freeze in shock and blinked at your boyfriend’s mother in shock. “Huh?!” You asked with the most conviction. She happily chatted on. “Oh honey, you can’t tell me that all that glowing is just from my son, as much as I love him.” You put your fork down with trembling fingers. “Mrs Morgan, I’m not pregnant.” She looked at you, narrowed her eyes, and then shrugged. “Alright. I just had a feeling.” You knew damn well that she wasn’t done with this yet, but the topic seemed to be finished for the moment and you awkwardly moved to other subjects with your conversations. Later that night, Morgan watched you getting ready for bed with the same weird look as his mother. “Should I go get you a test?” He asked. You exhaled. “I’m not pregnant Derek!”, you almost yelled in exasperation. He lowered his gaze. “But… you have been looking different. Something feels different.” You smiled and sat down beside him on the little bench at the end of the bed. “That’s because I am different. I’m the happiest I’ve ever been, okay? It’s got nothing to do with a baby, as much as your mom hopes for one.” Derek chuckled and took your hands, lifting them to press a kiss against the both of them. “Do you think we should take her to a doctor? Maybe she’s not doing alright.” You laughed and shoved at his shoulder. “Now you’re just being mean, babe.” Still chuckling you crawled underneath the covers, patting the empty space next to you. He understood immediately, laying down next to you and pulling you close to his toned body. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the silence for a moment, the calm you always felt in your best friend’s embrace. “I am surprised, though.” You spoke into the silence. Derek hummed in question, his warm chest vibrating beneath your ear. “I thought you would be freaking out at the prospect of a baby. Yet here you were, just offering me to get a test.” He turned to be able to look at you, his face displaying surprise over his own behaviour. “Huh. I guess…” He inhaled deeply. “I guess it wouldn’t be so bad if it was with you. We’re gonna have them anyway, right? I thought that was part of the deal.” You both laughed. “Part of your mom’s deal, anyway.” He chuckled at your words. “But in all seriousness, I look forward to it, Derek. One day we’ll have a few little Morgans running around, and with our genes, they’ll be adorable. Your mom just caught me off guard, you know? We basically just started dating, even though we’ve known each other for so long. It would be a little soon, wouldn’t it?” Derek just shrugged and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “If it happens, it happens. I’ll take whatever life throws at me as long as I’ve got you by my side.”

The one where his mom knows best Was there a secret rule that mothers had to be clairvoyant, or all-knowing? It was a week later, and you had just emptied your stomach’s contents into your trash bin at work. You had been feeling dizzy the past few days, and your sense of smell had changed, too. For today, you decided to play it off as a placebo effect and continued with your day, even though Derek looked at your pale face in worry all day. But the next day was Saturday, the day you and Derek traditionally cooked a big breakfast together, and when the smell of his famous pancakes sent you running to the toilet you knew what was up. Your boyfriend ran into the toilet after you, rushing to hold your hair up and stroke your back. Once you were done coughing up your lungs and were able to sit up straight again, you met his gaze in shock and closed your eyes. And then the two of you started laughing. “Mother knows best, huh?” You laughed, burying your face in your hands. “Is there any way we can keep this from her? Just to spite her?” Derek chuckled and pressed the longest kiss against your forehead. “No way, I’m afraid. She’s never gonna shut up about this.” You smiled and looked at him, really looked at him kneeling on the floor with you. You thought back to the talk you had had in his childhood bedroom, the talk you had had at the wedding, the way he had been so sure of your future together. With him by your side, you were going to be alright. So maybe you weren’t going to shut up about this either.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds oneshot #criminology #bau #BAU Team #bau x reader #derek morgan #shemar moore #derek morgan x reader #derek morgan x you #pregnant reader

[daisylincs]

Today is, officially, the last day of 2020 - so it's literally just in time that I'm getting to @aosrecweek's amazing challenge. But that does go to show the nature of this crazy year a little bit, right? Time has just been INSANE, and I honestly cannot believe it's so close to over.

That said, I want to put it out there that everyone - absolutely everyone - who created something in this mad year, is a SUPERHERO. Like. We could have hidden away in dark corners, curled into little balls, and lost touch with our creativity entirely - but instead, we made some of the most fantastic content I have ever seen. And, excuse the language, but that is fucking amazing, of each and every single one of us. We're bloody INCREDIBLE, you guys. We really are.

Now, the rules of this challenge dictate that I've got to start with some of my own things, then repeat with the same number of creations by other people. So I'm going to do that, and I apologise for the sheer length (and self-plug-iness) of what is about to follow - but, bloody incredible, remember? I really mean that. 💜💜💜

My Own:

you could call me babe for the weekend - 19k of Spideychelle being oblivious, mutually pining IDIOTS while being snowed in. And, you know, fake dating. (This thing was SO MUCH FUN to write and though, yeah, it got completely out of control, as evidenced by the 19k, I still really love it.)

'tis the damn season - my first attempt at writing a multi-chap, and, yeah, it only has one chapter as of now, but I really love said chapter. Basically, it's Daisy and Mackelena being friends, and honestly just the BEST friends - I adore the style I managed to achieve in this thing. Plus, the Skimmons I have planned up next is going to be da bomb.

the closest thing - Philindaisy plus fake family. Also; amusement parks. And for a fangirl like me - well, it was pretty much a dream come true to write!

oh valley of plenty - in this fic, I basically told myself, so AoS won't give us Huntingbird in the finale? Fine. I'll just do it myself then - in the fluffiest way possible. And that's exactly what I did - making them, and their kids, be best friends in Perthshire.

maybe life should be about more - a very angsty Skimmons and Daisy-centric AU, focusing on the internalised homophobia Daisy has experienced through her life, and shaking it off (and eventually, y'know, getting together with Jemma.)

and it's dark in a cold december (but i've got you to keep me warm) - Fitzsimmons just make such a supreme pairing for hurt/comfort, what with how insanely well they understand each other and care about each other, so I'm really glad for the Fitzsimmons Secret Santa giving me the chance to write this! Basically, this follows our science duo through a stressful mission on Christmas Eve (so yes, it's a mission fic!!) and realising that the two of them can do anything together.

july second - ahhh, one of my personal favourites to write! Daisy birthday surprise fluff will always be top-notch for me, especially for all the team-as-family fluff you can add in, especially especially that this is set in Staticquake times! Also, it's from Hunter's point of view, which will forever be the most insanely fun thing to write, I do think.

i just wanna be with you - man, I'm such a big royal fan, so getting the chance to write a modern royalty AU for my OTP was nothing short of amazing!! This is Princess Daisy and her fiancée Lincoln Campbell at their official engagement interview

see the line where the skye meets the sea - shameless season 1 bby Bus Kids fluff, featuring movie nights, singalongs and... so much fluff your teeth will rot. Also I'm really freaking proud of the pun in the title okay

'cause all that you are is all that i'll ever need - Huntingbird waking up together fluff (because, fight me, Huntingbird in their sweet moments is one of the sweetest things you will ever get to read or write.) This is also my, fluffy, take on the origin of the Franny's Saloon keychain.

we love you, we love you (and we hope you love we too) - aha, my first polyship fic! Also my first try at some actually fancy HTML formatting (forever thanks to Kat for explaining.) Both of these things combined to form a fic that even I think is ridiculously fluffy and funny, and kinda amazing, at that.

and man I don't know where the time goes (but it sure goes fast like that) - Another Bus Kids movie night fic, but this one set post-season 7, and reflecting on how far they've come. A little bit more hurt/comfort-y than it's pure fluff prequel, but still super fluffy and soft. And, of course, with a happy ending.

she shares my dreams, i hope that someday, i'll share her home - snowy Fitzsimmons fluff, complete with them falling in love at the Winter Olympics, as you do.

then you walked in and my heart went boom - 16k of Dekesy for the wife, and remarkable for that, because literally a month ago from this, I hated Dekesy with my entire soul. Then I started reading Kat's fics, and, well, fell in love with them... so much so that I wrote sixteen thousand words of enemies-to-friends-to-lovers, bed sharing holiday fluff for them.

a love like that - a Fitzsimmons Cinderella AU, featuring my two favourite science babies, in true science bby style, falling in love over science and how stupid the whole courting thing is. Also, Daisy makes a brief appearance, and she's the freaking best.

ever after - ah, probably the one single fic I'm proudest of. A post-season 7 Daisy character study focusing on her emotional rollercoaster re: losing her family/things never being the same again, which just achieves... an emotional level that I have never managed to replicate again. I was full-on sobbing while writing it, and, guys, it also part-holds the Closest To Making Kat Cry prize.

blue - Daisy character study spanning snapshots of seven seasons, and before - but tied together by something blue in every moment. Researching for this, and finding all the blue moments, was very interesting, and immensely satisfying, especially since all the moments where a little bit of blue was present actually combine to chronicle Daisy's journey on the show remarkably well.

who is that girl I see - the one time I decided to write straight angst, and straight angst with no happy ending. Melinda May post-Bahrain, folks.

take my hand, take my whole life too - aww, the first thing I wrote that I really and truly loved. A Staticquake and Fitzsimmons Actors AU, featuring a proposal on set and INCREDIBLE amounts of fluff and softness.

hold out your hand, 'cause friends will be friends - the wife's favourite, and, as second fics go, pretty damn good, if I do say so myself. It's a Soulmates AU for Staticquake and Mackelena, with the focus being on DaisyMack friendship, and lots of denial, angst, and guilt about finding their soulmates. (They figure it out eventually, don't worry - it's me, of course I made them happy.)

Fitzsimmons + Fake Dating moodboard - Fake dating will always be FAB, and picturing it out in a moodboard - especially for my clueless bby best friends in love - was the best, and super satisfying.

Staticquake + Orange moodboard - One of the cooler ideas I had for Trick or Treat (which I still have not finished, heaven help me) was to make a series of moodboards for my OTP plus different colours. This orange one is just so light, and cheerful, and happy, and honestly I kinda adore it.

This Philindaisy + Family Moodboard - making moodboards can be insanely frustrating when you just can't find the photo that fits exactly right. With this one, however, I found all the pics I needed pretty insanely fast, and, better, the whole thing just worked, and really nicely so, too.

This Bus Kids + Baking Cookies moodboard - there's absolutely NO faults to be found with tiny, adorable Skye, Fitz and Jemma concocting choc chip cookies - but I'm actually doing a tiny cheat here, because, cute as my moodboard here is, the accompanying fic by my love @eowima is the SWEETEST and best thing you could ever wish for!!!

This Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week Photoset - Day 3 of Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week focused on an emotion, and I picked confidence and power, because honestly, it's nothing short of amazing how confident and powerful our gorgeous girl has become.

This Daisy Johnson Appreciation Week Photoset - One of the times I wish I could gif, because this quote about struggling though never giving up just suits Daisy perfectly. The photos I found are cool, though, and I mean, it's Daisy, so that's already absolutely fabulous.

Other People's:

I managed to find twenty-six of my own things that I liked enough to put up there (because, yes, I'm that big a dork, 26 things for me being 26 is the way to go :D) Anyway, now that gives me the amazing chance to spotlight twenty-six of my favourite creations by my FANTASTIC mutuals! 😍

To start, my wife - Kat said I couldn't put everything she's ever written on here, so, ugh, I guess I'll just do my top five then. *grumbling* Everything by Kat is on here in spirit, though!!

Chasing Cars (even after the story ends) by @aleksandrachaev - the epic Dekesy roadtrip AU and incredible Daisy character study itself, which, I do believe, finishes today!! Words aren't enough to describe how freaking AMAZING this thing is, or how spectacularly well characterised. Just: if you haven't read this yet, you are missing out. You will laugh, you will groan, you will want to wrap Daisy in a very tight hug, and you will probably cry, too. This fic just has it all, really!

there goes the maddest man this town has ever seen by @aleksandrachaev - the post-season 7 Deke-crashes-the-Framework-Zoom-call fic I didn't know I needed (but spent the next two weeks rereading every single night.) It is absolutely INCREDIBLE, with all the Deke & Team feels we missed in the final outro scene, and honestly just the most fantastic writing. I cannot recommend it enough!

To Box It Up And Start Again (everything must go) by @aleksandrachaev - bloody hell, this BROKE me. Deke never really got to say goodbye in canon, but Kat gave him the chance to do it here. And, my freaking GOODNESS, she made it so incredibly bittersweet and heart-shattering. 10/10

i am a leaf on the wind by @aleksandrachaev - a little bit of a stretched-out, reflective moment in the season 7 finale. As Daisy lingers on the edge of death, she reflects on all the lives she could have had - and, man, what a study in bittersweetness!! This entire fic is utterly incredible, and something I think all Daisy fans should read.

Falling Into Place by @aleksandrachaev - here's a tiny cheat from me (sorry, babes, lmao) because technically this isn't one fic, but a series of three. Way too amazing to miss out on, though!! Set mid-season 7, this has the Chronicoms go after a young Mary Sue Poots to kill Quake before she can become a problem for them. They stop the Chronicoms, yes, but not without a TREMENDOUS dose of feels and hurt/comfort. There's also a wonderful little dose of Dekesy friendship, and then an adult adoption (!!) that honestly made my entire day to read. Actually, that's true for the entire series - I really canNOT yell about it enough!!

destroyer of worlds by @bobbimorseisbisexual - a study in incredible parallels between Jiaying's daughters. Utterly breathtakingly done, this will give you ALL the feels for this small and complex Inhuman family.

Muscle Memory by @robotgort and @bobbimorseisbisexual - a Huntingbird!! Bones!! AU!! And also a collaboration between two of the most fabulous Huntingbird authors in the fandom - honestly, what more can you ask for?! This will make you laugh, and gasp, and wince, and keep you guessing at each new plot twist (and also screaming at your screen for Hunter and Bobbi to get their acts together and TALK ABOUT IT.) In short: it's completely and utterly amazing, and I cannot, cannot recommend it enough!!

You Belong Among the Wildflowers by @libbyweasley - a freaking incredible Scis & Spies Regency AU! I only just started reading, but I was hooked all the way through, especially on the way Libby writes all four characters' complex relationships (and their attraction, and their history!) Everything about it is just completely stunning, and I for one cannot WAIT for these beautiful idiots to figure out they all belong together.

Family Snapshot by @tomatobookworm - if it's family fluff you're after, especially Staticquake family fluff, look no further! This tremendously soft and utterly amazing fic follows a day in the lives of a pregnant Daisy and her husband Lincoln, and their not-so-little family of Inhumans, both adopted and biological. There's also shopping with Grandma May, lots of feels, lots of shippiness, and just AMAZINGNESS all the way through!!

Best Day Ever by @loved-the-stars-too-fondly - Jemma and Daisy want to adopt a pet, and make a very special trip to Wisconsin to do it. Also, whether he knows who he is or not, Jemma has an important question to ask Cal - and just, AHHHH, everything about this is utterly stunning! For starters, Aubrey's writing is FANTASTIC, and the scene she sets is absolutely beautiful, and so very bittersweet. I was actually misting up a little with happy tears towards the end of this - really, I cannot recommend this enough, to any Skimmons fan.

so why don't we go somewhere only we know by @loved-the-stars-too-fondly - more Skimmons (platonic this time, though), more hurt/comfort, and, yes, again, more absolutely INCREDIBLE writing. This one is canon compliant, following a shaken Jemma struggling to sleep after Maveth, and how Daisy finds a way to help her out. Incredibly sweet, tender and BEAUTIFULLY written, this one was an instant favourite the moment I read it!

Unspoken by @anxiouslynumbme - a birthday fic for yours truly, and, honestly, one of the most STUNNING Staticquake introspectives I've read. It follows Daisy and Lincoln in a beautifully tender missing moment in season 3, with them both realising their feelings, and just... AHHHHHHHH, everything about it is utterly incredible!! I cannot, cannot recommend this gem of a fic enough

the thing about water droplets and ruffled hair by @que-mint-tea - here's another fic that proves, once and for all, how good Kat's Dekesy is, because it managed to convert T to write some Dekesy smut. And, oh my GOSH, what Dekesy smut - so goshdarn angsty, but so FANTASTICALLY characterised and written that it leaves you more than a little breathless, and gaping at your screen. The first chapter initially left us on the most HORRIFIC cliffhanger, but then T fixed it, and it's just... this thing is really a whole new level of emotional writing, raw and gripping and intensely perfect for both of these characters. My haw still drops whenever I think of this thing, and how utterly AMAZING it was, so yeah. Fic rec!!!

beautiful stranger, there you are by @justanalto - I do believe I still owe Serena a long and very gushy comment on this thing, because, MAN, does it ever deserve that!! Pipsy and fake dating, with the most HILARIOUSLY incredible writing, plot and characterisation, and honestly just a giddy "askhdfkhsfh" whenever I think back to how much I enjoyed it. Yup, it was that good.

Jumping to conclusions by @eowima - a very special one, because it marks my love Océane's first venture into writing AoS fic! It's an AU of 1x06 (the Fitzsimmons episode of s1) where Fitz does actually jump out of the plane to save Jemma. Realisations of feelings, and some of the most genuinely FANTASTIC Fitz characterisation I've read in a while, follow - and, yup, I was shouting at my screen for them just to get together already. Amazing stuff, really!!

Look into your eyes and the sky's the limit by @eowima - okay, this. This. Another gift for me, and one that I will probably treasure forEVER, because it is just?? so?? utterly?? perfect?? Just for starters, the title is a Hamilton reference - and then the theme of Hamilton references continues into the fic itself, I'm delighted to say. There's also the most BEAUTIFUL, playful Skimmons friendship, and teasing, and then of course the bet about who can make out with their crush first... Staticquake & Fitzsimmons perfection. And all rendered in Océane's delightful, best-thing-ever-to-read writing!! I'm going into a giddy keyboard smash just THINKING about this, so yeah, cannot recommend it enough.

lullabies and clear blue skies by @springmagpies and @bobbimorseisbisexual - okay, I never thought I'd catch myself shipping FitzBobbi, let alone shipping it this hard, but... wow. Maggie and Al teamed up to completely blow me away, and MELT MY WHOLE ENTIRE HEART with the sheer cuteness of this!! It features Fitz, Bobbi and adopting two daughters, and it's just the most tender, beautiful development through that little family - I love it so, so much.

We made all the wrong choices by @browneyedgenius - the winner of the AoS Angst War 2020, how could I not include this one? It is such a well-deserved win, though, whoa - I was sobbing, full-on sobbing, at least twice while reading. It follows the season 5 team through the events of the time-loop, after they failed to save the world - and, oh my gosh, it ripped my heart right out of my chest, but beautifully so. Everything about this fic just hits so hard, and it's written so well - yeah, really a most AMAZINGLY deserved win, for an utterly SHATTERINGLY incredible fic.

I threw stones at the stars (but the whole sky fell) by @nazezdha321 - this is Z showing us all how to write a backstory for a minor character, and write it so well that everyone's hearts break all over again when she dies. This one is about Victoria Hand, and it builds a stirring and profound childhood for her, also making her rise through the ranks of SHIELD and just her entire character mean so much more. Really, fic-wise, this is goals, and I take my hat off to you, Z, 1000%, for writing it.

in which the universe is put together by @besidemethewholedamntime - Rebecca's emotional writing, particularly Fitzsimmons' emotions, is incomparable, and she proves it all over again in this fic. If follows Fitz and Jemma before, after and during the bloodwork, and I just... wow, honestly. The emotion!! And the characterisation!! Absolutely stunning, and honestly all I could wish for in a we-had-time fic.

Agents of SHIELD Season 8 by @egumal - THIS. This, this, this, oh my gosh - as fix-it fics go, this has to be the most spectacular one I have ever read. What it does is find a way - a potentially canon compliant way, too - to bring back Lincoln Campbell, and reunite Staticquake. Basically: just about as season 7 finishes, the Astro Ambassadors get an unexpected visitor from another timeline, who asks them to come help out against Hive. Case in point, Daisy meets her lost love again (... but he has no idea who she is) and also has to relive the Fallen Agent drama. It all gets even more complicated when Kora restores Lincoln's memories, and Daisy meets the full team Deke has assembled around him in the 33 years (for him) that they've been apart... in short, this is one of the most thorough, well-written and downright SHOCKING plot-twist-wise fics that you will ever read, and honestly, saying "I can't recommend it enough" is an understatement. This thing is thd BEST, plain and simple!

Black Roses aren't real (but you and I are) by @ohwriteiforgot - ahhhh, a fic that will always have an incredibly special place in my heart, because it introduced me to one of my best fandom friends. The main focus is on Clintasha, it's true, but it's also a crossover with AoS in the sense that Clint was adopted by Coulson and May. Also, Daisy is his little sister, and their bond is gold. Also - there's Staticquake!! And flower shops!! And rivals to friends to lovers!! All I'm going to say is, what more can you ask for?!

A book to shield my story by @maybebrilliant - Staticquake High School AU, ahhhhhhhh!! There are only two chapters out so far, but the way this is shaping up is making my DAY - with Daisy as the new girl who meets Lincoln and his group of friends, and, though her foster parents are absolutely shit, starts to find actual happiness in a school for the first time in her life. Also - THE REFERENCES. Guys. I'm crazy for those, and in this book, so are my favourite dorks, Daisy and Lincoln - and let me tell you, it's nothing short of the best thing ever.

This AoS Finale Gif Edit by @heysteverogers - AoS really has been the most INCREDIBLE journey through the years, but what's really made it special is the company - and that's summed up perfectly in this gorgeous gifset. Also, the graphics on this are just, ahhhh, stunning - I'm in awe, and I've spent very long periods of time just looking at this thing in a state of heart-eyes.

This AoS Finale Gif Edit by @jemannesimms - combining Auld Lang Syne and the final scenes of my favourite show was a raw emotional - but utterly brilliant experience - for me. It's just so absolutely beautiful, and perfectly suited to the team, and their goodbyes!! Breathtaking editing work here, too.

This Daisy as Peter Parker and May as Tony Stark moodboard by @agentsofcomedyandchaos - ahhhh, a crossover of two of my favourite fandoms!! And what a lovely one, too - the colour scheme, quotes, and just the whole FEEL of this is absolutely genius, and I am guilty of being inspired by way too many fic ideas by it. Stunning stuff!!

And... whoa, that was long, but I really do feel that we deserve a bit of a proper pat on the back after creating such magical content in such a messed up year. So that's the note I'm going to leave you with for 2020, my friends: hell-year or no, look at the absolute beauty we were still able to create!! We really are freaking amazing, guys.

#aos best of 2020 #fic rec #massive fic rec list #and honestly; WHAT a list!! #despite this utter hellstorm of a year #we as a fandom have still been nothing short of INCREDIBLE #and honestly; I am SO proud of us #💜💜💜