#i put my bookshelf and nightstand together by myself

[crimson-calligraphyx]

Tag List: @cheyfi @kingdomof-omens @daylightlvrs @blade-in-red @jay02bo @itsmrsfuentes @cncohshit @catj422 @lma1986 @chels3a-smile @kiwi475 @cookiesupplier @timid-raccoon @xxkittenkissesxx

A subtle breeze coasts down my exposed skin, leaving goosebumps in its wake. I whine, tightening my grasp and burrowing my face further against Noah in search of warmth, only to come to the realization it wasn't him I was clutching to me. I cracked open an eye, my pregnancy pillow coming into view instead of the sight of my slumbering husband.

I furrowed my brows in perplexity; I know I had fallen asleep in Noah's arms.

With a groan, I rolled as far onto my back as I could, rubbing the sleep out of my eyes before pushing myself out of bed—which was getting progressively more and more difficult as the days went by. "Noah?" I called, trudging out of our bedroom with a hand on my back. "God, it's fucking freezing," I grumbled to myself, a chill running down the length of my body the further I walked down the hall. The air conditioning was on full blast as usual, thanks to Noah.

I call his name once again, but there was still no definitive response, other than a muffled 'fuck'.

There wasn't any music playing or the faint smell of toast cascading through our home, so he wasn't in the kitchen or studio. The only other option was the nursery.

I waddled my way towards what used to be our spare bedroom, peeking through the door left ajar. I grinned to myself when I saw him hunched over a piece of paper, tiny screws laid out in front of him in neat piles. I pushed the door open gently and leaned against the doorframe, giving it a light tap to announce my entry.

"Hey you," I greet him. "Whatcha up to?" "Building the crib," he replies, clipped. I scrunched up my face at his curtness, shaking my head lightly. "I see... Been here long? I didn't even feel you get out of bed." "Couple hours. Didn't want to wake you."

I stand up straight, pulling my brows together with a small frown. I was not appreciating his tone.

I take a gander around the room, seeing he had put together the white bookshelf my mom had gifted us and the nightstand we got from Ikea. I loved seeing that things were coming together, bringing me a sense of security and joy, but I could still feel the rigidness permeating from him.

"Everything okay? You seem a little tense," I ask. He sighs harshly. "Yes, I'm fine. There's a few pieces missing, so I'm a little annoyed with that." I shuffle on my feet. "Well, we could take a break. Make some breakfast. Plus, we still need to paint the walls, so we can figure out the missing pieces afterwards—" "We?" He scoffs. "I'm the one putting all this shit together."

My mouth opens, but no words come out. I snap my mouth shut; I'm left blinking as I register the words he just said.

I ball my hands into fists as I feel anger simmering in my veins. "It's a little more difficult for me to sit on the floor and put things together, Noah." "Then maybe we should've done this sooner before it got too difficult for you," he mumbles with a roll of his shoulders. "Excuse me?" My jaw drops and my hand flies to my chest, absolutely appalled. I give him a chance to explain himself, but we're left in a tense silence as I watch him continue to fidget with a piece of the crib. "You know what? Go fuck yourself. I can't believe you just said that!" I take hold of the door knob, pulling the door towards me as I begin to make my exit. "Sorry for being eight months pregnant," I snap, then slam the door behind me.

Tears are burning my eyes as I stomp to the kitchen. From there, I don't waste a second and pull out the griddle, aggressively putting it on the counter and plugging it in to heat up. It might be hard for me to build a crib and paint the walls, but it certainly wasn't hard for me to cook breakfast for the both of us. Even if I was pissed off to no end.

After throwing several strips of bacon on the griddle, I made my way around the kitchen and grabbed everything that I needed to make pancakes with haste. I whipped together the batter as the bacon cooked, never minding the fact that Noah was now standing by the island, watching me.

"Olivia," he says my name gently, closing the distance between us. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you." "I'm cooking." I shoulder him away when he places an arm around my shoulders. I see him stiffen in my peripheral, letting his arm drop to his side. "Would you like some help?" "Nope."

We're back to a rigid silence, nothing but a quiet sizzle filling the room as I poured batter onto the griddle in perfect circles. Noah is hovering behind me, and it doesn't help alleviate the tension. Instead, I realize it was making it worse as I fisted the spatula with such aggression, my knuckles turned white. My hand even trembled a little bit while I watched the pancakes start to rise, speckled with tiny bubbles.

"You're gonna burn them—" I grit my teeth. "I know," I grumbled, flipping them harshly one by one. I knew they would burn if I let them cook any longer, he didn't need to tell me. He sighs, sidling up behind me and placing a hand on my waist. "I'm just trying to help, love—" "You can help by parking your ass at the table and leaving me be." I feel him flinch and slowly retract his hand before he returns to the island, where I hear him take a seat on one of the stools.

Minutes pass; I take the pancakes off the heat and split them between two plates. I had already laid the strips of bacon on paper towels to soak up the excess grease before serving Noah the chewier pieces, and me the crispier.

I may be done cooking breakfast, but I was certainly still stewing in aggravation as I grabbed the bottle of syrup and slide his plate in front of him. I glance at the sullen look on his face before I turned and retrieved my own plate, sitting across from him. He thanks me in a quiet voice, but he doesn't so much as move a muscle while I dig into my breakfast.

"Olivia, I'm sorry," he tries again. "I was just frustrated, I shouldn't have taken it out on you and said that." I picked up a piece of bacon, avoiding his gaze. "Yeah, you shouldn't have." I shrug and take a bite of the bacon, savoring the hint of applewood as I chewed, and he sighs. "You gonna eat?" "I'm not all that hungry."

I rolled my eyes and shook my head lightly in annoyance, finishing the strip of bacon in hand before picking up my fork and digging into one of the pancakes.

"You know, that's how I felt when I spent hours putting those things together, just for you to come in and tell me we still had to paint the walls, Liv." "Seriously, Noah?" In an instant, the anger flared up again and I finally brought my eyes to him, shooting daggers in his direction. I slammed my fork on the table, his untouched silverware rattling from the aggression. "Why are you being such a dick?" He pressed his lips into a line as he leered at me, his eyes bouncing between mine while the tension between us was once again pulled taut. "Forget it," I grumbled, standing abruptly from my seat.

I picked up my plate and brought it to the sink, practically tossing it onto the counter, and turned to make my way back to the bedroom. I brushed past Noah with tears in my eyes and he calls my name, but I ignore him and continue down the hall. My throat burned as I tried not to cry.

It was like a flip of a switch with him, and I didn't understand it. Yesterday he was so kind, gentle, and helpful during the entire shower. He helped set up the event, helped me open gifts, cut and served the cake and other food, put everything away—hell, he barely let me lift a finger. But this morning? He made me feel like absolute garbage for not being able to do these things. I can't lift more than 10 pounds, I can't sit on the floor for very long and put together furniture, I can't paint the walls by myself.

I took a seat on the edge of the bed, my cheeks burning hot as tears rolled down them. Noah comes in shortly after and crouches in front of me, taking my hands in his with a gentle squeeze. He says my name quietly and I bring my eyes up to his face, which screamed nothing but remorse with a definitive crease between his brows and a heavy frown.

"I'm so sorry," he whispers. "Please don't cry." "Why are you so... flippant this morning?" I mumbled, struggling to find the right word. My lips quiver and he lets go of one of my hands to cup my cheek, his thumb swiping the trail of tears dry. "I don't mean to be," he sighs, shaking his head. "I'm just stressed." "So, you take it out on me instead of talking to me about it? Yesterday you were fine, and now... this," I motioned between us. "Did something happen?" "No, not exactly..." he trails off. I shake my head, not understanding. "Then what?"

He remains silent, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows. He licks his bottom lip before biting it lightly, most likely mulling over his words before he cradles the back of my head and presses his lips to my forehead.

"I didn't want to upset you by telling you I was nervous about having the baby." He's kneading his fingers in the back of my head as he says this, his eyes heavy with concern, begging for forgiveness. "And don't think that means I'm not excited to have him, I'm just... I'm in my head, you know? It's a lot and I'm worried that... that I'm not ready or that I won't be a good dad." I felt my heart sink hearing his words, my whole jaw trembling trying to hold my emotions back. "W-why didn't you say anything before, Noah?" I sobbed, shaking my head as fresh tears spilled down my cheeks.

"Because it didn't hit me until yesterday," he tells me, squeezing my hand. "Seeing all the gifts, seeing how excited everyone was for his arrival, knowing you're nearly 9 months pregnant. It hit me all at once. We have so many things to put away, so many things to do for the nursery; it freaked me out." I lock eyes with him, his chocolate irises glistening with sincerity. "And you know how I get when I have a task on hand—I don't stop until it's finished. Til everything is perfect. I just want everything to be perfect for you and him." He cups my face with both hands, once again trying to dry my tears with his thumbs. "Okay? I'm sorry for being an ass, from the bottom of my heart."

I nod shallowly in his hands, and he brandishes a soft smile before pressing his lips to mine delicately. I let out a single cry against his mouth and cling onto his shirt, melting into him shortly after, and we stayed like this until neither of us could breathe.

Though him saying he wanted everything to be perfect was reassuring, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't the least bit worried about what comes after childbirth. The irritability from lack of sleep, and the arguments that would ensue from it. The disagreements, the crying, the screaming. Things won't be perfect, and that's what scares me—what if he gets sick and tired of trying to make things 'perfect' and leaves?

"Come on," he breaks through my thoughts. "Let's finish breakfast, cuz I know you're hungry," he chuckles, and I huff a quiet laugh. "Then we can set up the room to start painting the walls. How's that sound?" "But what about the things you already put together?" "I'll move everything to the center and put a tarp over it. We have to put one down over the rug, anyways."

I nod with a quiet 'okay' and he gives me another reassuring kiss before standing, pulling me to my feet. He takes my hand in his, bringing me back to the kitchen where we finished our now cold breakfast before he left to set up the nursery for painting.

In the meantime, I cleaned up the kitchen and changed into clothes that I didn't necessarily care if they got ruined or not. I threw my hair up into a messy bun and made my way into the baby's room, seeing Noah had finished the task of tarping everything and covering the trim in painter's tape. He was now beginning to pour paint into the pans.

"Ready to get painting?" he asks after putting the lid back on the can. He stands, picking up one of the rollers and attaching it to an extension pole before handing it to me. "I figure it would be easier for you, not having to bend or reach as much. I'll get the nooks and crannies when we get there," he winks, holding up a wide, angled brush. "Thanks," I chuckle. "Let's get this party started," I say, glancing around the area to survey where to begin. I dip the roller into the pan, coating it in the sky blue color we picked out, and started with the wall opposite of the door.

The idea of painting was a lot easier said than done. It wasn't all that bad at first, just a little burn in my arms from extending them time and time again, but after a while, my back started to ache quite a bit. I was breaking a sweat, and was even a little winded, but still, I pushed on through it, knowing this had to get done—I couldn't let Noah do it all himself, considering our little tiff from earlier.

We had just started the third wall when I couldn't handle the back pain anymore, which was beginning to spread to my abdomen. I set the roller down gently and excused myself, making my way to our bedroom where I lay down, hoping to alleviate some of the ache. It doesn't take long for Noah to follow me in, a look of concern spread on his face as he closes the gap between us.

"You okay, love?" he asks, brushing my bangs back to press a kiss to my forehead. "Yeah," I let out an exasperated sigh, my face scrunching from the uncomfortability. "My back hurts. I just need to rest for a minute and I'll be back to help finish painting." He frowns. "I'll finish it up, I don't want you over-doing anything. Sit tight, I'll grab you some water, okay?" "But—" "I mean it." He shoots me a pointed look before exiting our bedroom.

I huff with defeat, settling against the pillows with an arm draped over my face, my other hand cradling my belly where the twinge of pain remained. My muscles tighten briefly, and I let out a quiet groan just as Noah reenters the room. I move my arm away from my face and take the glass of water he offered, thanking him before taking a few tiny sips and putting it down on the nightstand.

"You doing okay?" "Yeah," I nod lazily. "It's going away. I just needed to rest for a minute," I reassure him. He pulls his lips to the side, a look of doubt strewn across his face as he places his hand on my bump, rubbing slow circles against it. "Alright, if you say so. I don't want you painting anymore though, okay?" "Noah, please, I'm fi—" My face contorts and I let out a hiss. "It's just a cramp," I tell him through gritted teeth. "Liv," he says my name warily. "You don't think you're going into labor, do you?"

My heart jumps into my throat, my eyes flashing to Noah's as panic starts to creep in. I can't be going into labor; I still had 5 weeks left to go.

#fanfic #fan fiction #noah sebastian #fanfic writing #quandary #fantasy #romance #noah sebastian fanfic #noah sebastian fan fiction

[gffa]

Sometimes I get defensive about those house decor posts I see going around where people say that the neutral colors/black & white sleek look is "soulless" and they want to bite, kill, rend, and destroy for getting rid of the color in their homes. Setting aside that people should be allowed to do whatever they want in their own homes, let me tell you what "color" means to me: Everything in my life was a different color. Every room had every color crammed into it. Which sounds like, oh, that must have been a pretty rainbow effect! It wasn't, none of these colors were meant to go together, it's a hot pink plastic shoebox set on top of a dark brown folding table holding three wildly different shades of brown hand towels, some cornflower blue notebooks, and orange pens. It's burnt orange shag carpeting in the living room and hallway, with slate blue chairs, and a white tv tray loaded up with bright yellow pill and cornflower blue bottles and pale wood bookshelf next to dark brown folding table next to pine-colored dresser next to medium dark wood nightstand, all of those that fake material with the sticker made to look like wood, not actual wood. It's lime green countertops and dark beige flooring with one faded yellow wall, one off-white wall, and one faded mint green wall. It's a pine wood mimicking kitchen table with gold trim that's a sticker not actual wood, combined with one black rolling chair, one maroon and oak chair (not actual wood), and one gray upholstered chair. It's a robin's egg blue frayed blanket tossed over the red-and-black walker in the corner, which is also loaded up with the dark green and dark blue exercise bands. It's white and beige pieces of paper plopped everywhere. And all of these colors are faded so they're not really even pretty on their own, it's just a mishmash everywhere. All of this together in one house and that's just a fraction of it, it's a constant clashing of colors and, if there was a foot of space against the wall available, it had another dresser, nightstand, or bookshelf shoved into it. I look at some of these colorful homes that people love and I think they're beautiful and I get so much joy out of people in their homes loving their surroundings! But I will never be able to live in that kind of color for myself again without being heartsore about it. I've gone for a neutral palette now that I'm making the design decisions, I'm choosing white walls (admittedly with a little bit of a blue undertone that you only notice when it's picking up other things' colors), black trim, and gray/white/black/brown reclaimed wood flooring. I picked out a gray/white/black comforter to throw over the bed with a black headboard and black + gray pillows. I'm getting some subtle green accents to put in the room, the guest room has been going with a pale yellow theme (to accent the black/white/gray/grown colors), I'm not eschewing color all together, but those bright, overwhelming colors are not what makes my soul sing. Neutral colors are not a soulless choice on my part, it's the first time in my life that I feel like it's finally clean, that I can breathe properly. You could scrub down a room with seafoam and forest green colors and have it so clean you could lick the walls and I would still have to go outside and take a moment to gather myself together if I had to live in it, because for me "color" means messy and I've had an entire lifetime of mess. I love when people put bright orange or bright green on their walls, that rocks and I will come over and genuinely tell you how beautiful it is, because I understand that it makes your soul sing. But understand that, in turn, having sleek, subtle colors makes my soul sing in a way that's just as genuine.

#lumi.txt #hoarding

[not-alien-girl-v]

Vampires Will Never Hurt You (Harry Styles)

Chapter 8

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When I woke up, the house was rather quiet. It was common to hear Donna cooking or Harry singing something (something I noticed the strange boy did more than often, figures, since it's his job,) as I was always the last to wake up, but if I didn't know any better, I might have been the first awake.

It was a Wednesday, and the clock on my nightstand informed me that it was 5 in the morning. The air was cold - colder than usual, likely due to the beginning of October, which reminded me that I still had to pick out a Halloween costume for my Halloween party.

My Halloween parties are always the most bomb-ass in history. Kidding. Donna wouldn't let me throw huge parties, the most she'll allow is the coven and a couple of friends. Unfortunate, but at least the coven was big enough that it was more of a party than a get-together.

However, this year, I'm going to go all out. I'm inviting every young adult I know and throwing THE single most epic Halloween party there ever was. I assume I can count on the addition of Harry and Louis to the party. And through them, most of my master plan is finished.

I mean, if word gets out that both men will be at one single Halloween party, I'll be having a hard time keeping people out!

Aside from my plans to throw an awesome party, I didn't have anything to do today. Donna and I had said we would start writing down the things we need to get done so we don't put them aside, but in the end, I'm pretty sure we got distracted and forgot to write them down.

Regardless, that only meant that I had a full day to do whatever I wanted.

I slid out of my bed and took a quick shower before I walked out into the hallway. It was currently early to mid-fall, which explained the cold temperature in the air. I went back into my room to grab a heavy sweater, then walked back into the hallway, this time, making it all the way into the living room. I made my way over to the bookcase which was perpendicular to the wall with the bay window that overlooked our backyard.

Next to the bookshelf was my favorite chair that I scored from some old woman's yard sale about 50 years back, and it had a very vintage look to it. Next to that was, of course, the bay window, where Jorge's creaky old birdcage resided, and he sat tranquilly.

The image seemed truly serene, with the way the beams of sunlight shone delicately through the window and onto the chair, perfectly illuminating it like a gift from the gods. It's times like these that make me glad to be alive, even if I take life for granted way too often, it's a gift nonetheless and I think people forget that.

I then spotted my grandmother's grimoire, the same grimoire I used to extract the spell which turned Harry. Maybe its time I do some proofreading to know what else I might have missed in the book. Also maybe something easy like a starter spell for Louis.

Speaking of Louis, last night I made plans with him to meet with my coven and him so we could work out the details of him joining. I decided to give it a few weeks because after all, we don't just let anyone in, and I think I'd like to know him better before either of us makes any big decisions.

I slipped the heavy book from its slot on the shelf and settled myself into my chair.

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A couple hours had passed, and I was still engrossed in the grimoire. It had started to rain outside, no contrast from the gloomy weather previously, but still a rare occurrence for southern California.

Donna had woken up sometime as I remember her trying to hold a conversation with me through my reading, to which I ignored, so she now was outside collecting rainwater for some weird ritual. I don't really know what she's doing exactly; her and I have very different ideas of a 'witchy vibe' but whatever floats her boat I guess.

However, I still had not seen Harry at all this morning, which is strange, since he tends to be a morning person, much more than Donna or I have ever been, but it was now 1 in the afternoon and I had not heard a peep from him.

Maybe he was busy, with social networking, or whatever it is that famous people do other than sing and stuff. Although, he wasn't my main priority at the moment.

Yes, you heard it here first, folks, Faye Callahan actually came up with a to-do list. It only really has one thing on it, but it sure is a kicker. I decided that once I got bored of the grimoire, I would get Charlie over here and workout whatever is going on with him, since we got interrupted previously.

It had been about a week since the whole Louis and Florence thing, and I had been putting this off for a while, because I knew it wouldn't be easy, but Charlie isn't the best at being the mediator, which left me to solve his problem like these, even in situations I'm hardly involved in.

It's mostly because he is so stubborn and proud, he would never, in any circumstance, admit that he's wrong, but I blame that mostly on the fact that he's a Leo. I never trust a Leo. Or a Pisces. Talk about a victim complex. But that's beside the point.

Donna's not much better, with her being a Capricorn, but it always comes to me, the Sagittarius to solve these fights. I hope Harry doesn't have these types of problems, with him being an Aquarius and all.

I sighed, pushing my book aside, knowing I can't avoid this all day. I grabbed my phone from the window sill and reluctantly dialed Charlie's number. It rang almost exactly to the point where I thought it would go to voicemail, but at the last second, he picked up.

"Hello?" He sounded groggy, like he had just woken up.

"Were you asleep?" I questioned. I suppose he doesn't have a job or anything, but it's still strange for him to be asleep when he could be out doing something fun on a day when I hadn't texted him at all.

"Who wants to know?" He yawned, and I could practically hear his inaudible stretch before his breath returned back, close to the speaker.

"Me. You're coming over today and we are going to talk about your feelings, for real this time. I'm not letting you avoid this any longer." I expected him to put up a fight with me, like he does when I confront him about something serious, but he didn't.

"Okay. I'll be there. Give me like half an hour," and with that, he hung up on me, but I trusted him to keep to his word and arrive shortly.

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆

Now, Charlie was sitting on my couch, with leg tucked under him and his arms around the back of the couch. Donna had come inside when the lightning started, not that it would injure her, but she preferred to be inside to watch it happen. Although, when she heard Charlie's voice enter the house, she immediately came to sit with the two of us.

Still, no Harry.

"Donna, have you heard about Charlie's new girlfriend?" I asked her, and based on the temporary expression of shock on her face, I could tell it was news to her.

"No, I haven't," Donna didn't seem half as angry as I expected. If anything, she seemed upset that she hadn't heard about it, rather than upset that he had a girlfriend.

"Yeah, I, uh, started dating this girl, Florence, she's Faye's boss at IHOP." I squinted my eyes at Donna. There's no way she's one hell of an actress. I've known her for long enough to tell when she's hurting inside, and she genuinely seemed unphased.

"Donna, would you mind giving us a moment alone?" I asked, and she silently nodded and walked off somewhere in the hallway. I took a moment to make sure she had actually left before I turned back to Charlie.

"Alright now, Mr. Charles, tell me the truth. The actual truth, and don't even think about lying because we both know I see right through that. Why are you really dating Florence, when its clear to literally anyone and everyone that you have a thing for Donna?"

"Well, I guess, um, Donna's a big fan of Harry and his little boyband, and, um, well, I guess when he came around, I assumed my chances with her were, well, over." He zipped his mouth shut the moment he stopped talking, like he had to superglue it closed so he wouldn't share anymore secrets.

"So what you're saying is that you're using Florrie to make yourself feel better about a girl you think you'll never have?" He cringed at my words. Good. At least he knows what he's doing is wrong. That's major progress.

He shifted awkwardly in his seat. "Well when you put it like that..."

"There's no other way to put it, dude. I think the best decision for you would be to break it off with that poor girl, she doesn't deserve this," I reasoned, and he sighed and opened his phone, shot a quick text to someone and closed it. We'll talk about text breaking up with someone later, that's not on the to-do list today.

"What should I do about Donna?" He huffed and laid his head on the back of the couch, staring at the ceiling now.

"Well, I think you should know that Donna doesn't like Harry that way. Not even a little bit. In fact, I don't think I've seen them actually talk to each other very much. Also, I think you're projecting your anger from your unrequited feelings onto Harry, although we both know he's not at fault here. So please, be nice to him, he's having a tough time lately."

"Alright, alright, I'll be nice to the kid, but remind him that he's on thin ice," I smiled brightly at his response. It may not be perfect, but its sure better than Harry thinking Charlie hates him. "Now what about Donna?"

"Well, that's a tricky one. You know as much as I do, it's hard to truly get to Donna. I suppose 51 years isn't enough for you. But if I had to give my best advice, I'd say you should try to connect with her. Learn about who she really is as a person. And stop being so self centered around her. She actually really likes it when people ask her about her personal life."

He sighed up at the ceiling before letting out a small laugh. "Y'know, you're actually really smart when you try to be. Who knew you could give such good advice."

"Well, hopefully, you. I've been solving all your problems since I was born, are you really only picking up on this now?" I laughed in return. His laugh was slightly louder this time, with more humor in it.

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm gonna head out now, I have things to think over."

We both stood up from the couch so I could walk him out. I slapped his shoulder. "Alright, well, let me know when you get things figured out, dude." He gave me a grateful smile before he was on his way out.

I sighed in contentment. I laid down on the couch, knowing my work was done for the day. I couldn't help but let myself dose off.

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When I woke up, the sun had already set and it was dark out. I looked at the clock on the wall to see that it was now 9 at night. Had Harry still not come out of his room?

Maybe my work wasn't quite done yet.

I stood up from the couch to walk wearily down the hallway. What if he's dead? No, he can't be. I never even showed him the dagger that would kill him. Speaking of which, the dagger was still secured in my pocket, so at least I knew he wasn't dead.

I knocked on Harry's door, and I heard some rustling before he came and opened the door. I expected him to look like shit, but he didn't I guess that's a part of being a vampire, you probably always look good, no acne, no eyebags, no sweat, no greasy hair or skin. Or maybe that's just an exclusive Harry Styles thing. I don't really know yet.

However, he didn't look very happy, and that was the dead giveaway that something was up. "Yes?" He asked.

"Are you okay?" I returned his question with one of my own, and he gave me a shrug, not seeming like he wanted to talk about it, so I nodded, but gestured with my hand for him to follow me down the hallway into the kitchen.

I took a seat on the counter as he sat at a bar stool. "What do you want for dinner?"

He shrugged again, and I decided to accept it as an answer. I'd have to call in Donna, and she was always a nightmare to plan dinner with, but I didn't think I'd get much of a response from Harry. I pulled out my phone and texted her 'talking about dinner in kitchen. move ass and get here slut'

She quickly replied, 'kk love you too bbg <333' I laughed at our antics.

Within a few seconds, she appeared at the back door. It had stopped raining, so maybe she was sitting outside smelling the rain. She does that sometimes.

"So, what are we feeling tonight?" She asked cheerfully.

"Um, how about Chinese?" I threw an idea out and hoped we wouldn't have to bicker about it.

"Fine. Only if we go to that good place a couple blocks from here," she agreed, I guess, but not without her own terms and conditions, which I would have to accept if I even wanted dinner.

Harry stayed silent and scrolled through his phone.

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Within a few hours, we had all gotten our dinner and finished it, with us all sitting in a comfortable silence on the living room couch.

Harry stood up like he was going somewhere. I decided I'd had enough of it.

"Alright. Harry?" I looked up at him.

"Yes, love?" I wasn't sure whether to cringe or swoon so I just pretended he didn't say it.

"Do you want to get out of here?"

He chuckled softly. "And go where?" I stood up from my spot on the couch to meet his stance.

"Anywhere. Haven't you ever taken midnight drive? Isolation, no destination, just the city lights and the night sky?" I perched myself on the arm of the couch to not feel so low down compared to him, although I could bring out a stool and platform boots and he'd still be taller than me.

"No, I don't suppose I have. Am I missing out on it?" He briefly touched his hair like he was going to fix it but he pulled his hands down and decided not to.

"Oh, absolutely! Right Donna?" I turned to include her.

"Yep. Especially with this one, she's got a hell of a playlist for the exact occasion," Donna briefly pulled her face from her phone to chime in.

"It's true. Now go grab a jacket. Also, do you have a car?"

⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ:*⋆.*:･ﾟ .: ⋆*･ﾟ: .⋆  

#harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x oc #louis tomlinson #louis tomlinson fanfic #louis tomlinson fanfiction #louis tomlinson x reader #2014 aesthetic #2014 vibes #2014 core #2014 grunge #2014 girl #tumblr grunge #pale grunge #dark grunge #my chemical romance #gerard way #vampire

[kangtaebins]

.

#ykw gets me 🧍🏻‍♀ #it's that anytime my dad needs help w smth physical/handy he asks my brother #or when he's about to do smth he tells my brother to watch him so he knows how #but not me #and I'm just #i know more about shit than my brother does #why don't you ask me to help you putting shit together #i built an entire vanity by myself #i put my bookshelf and nightstand together by myself #i know how to do shit bc i had to teach myself why don't you ask for my help #he had to take this rack around the house and asked my brother to help him while i was literally standing right there #i literally 'oh no don't mind me i apparently can't carry a light ass rack' #my mom even 'why didn't you ask her she was right there' #he just 'oh i didn't think you'd want to' #like you didn't a s k #irritating as hell no wonder a lot of women grow up not knowing hoe to do/fix things around the house until they're on their own #like why is that such a common thing #teach your girls like you do boys #ask your girls to help you like you do boys #and teach boys what you only teach girls too #i don't understand how household things can be gendered it's- literally things everyone should know how to do #god damn #anyways i ended up helping him but not bc he originally wanted me to but bc he felt bad after i pointed it out :/

[belphies-cuhm-sluht]

Time For Bed (Lucifer x GN!Reader) FLUFF

Random Lucifer fluff! I write about going to sleep way too much considering I barely get any sleep myself. Holy shit I think I'm projecting onto the characters. WHOOPS!

Anywhooooo

Word Count : 1.7K

Warnings : Nothing. Just fluff and soft tired Lucifer

How long had you been laying in bed waiting for him to come up to see you? A few minutes? Hours? You turned to look at the clock on the nightstand, rolling your eyes as another minute ticked by. “Dammit, Lucifer…” You groaned, kicking the blankets off as you got out of the bed. He was probably still working on some shit that Lord Diavolo had made him do, or he was passed out at his desk. Either way, he was overworking himself and you hated that he did it so often. There wasn’t a moment that the two of you could be alone, whether he was working in his office or dealing with his brothers, there was never a time where you could actually be together.

“Lucifer…” You mumbled his name as you tapped your knuckles against the wooden door of his office, letting your head rest against it as you waited for him to respond. You weren’t even tired when you had gone up to the room, but just waiting for him made you sleepy, and the thought of how much work he had to do made you exhausted. You could only imagine how he felt having to actually do it, and he deserved a break, or at least a comfortable bed to actually fall asleep in. “Come up to bed, please.” Your hand slid down the door and landed on the doorknob, still waiting for him to answer, or literally say anything or even mumble… just a noise.

“Work… have to work…” He grumbled from behind the door and you could hear the lack of emotion in his voice. The man was beyond tired, beyond exhausted, and he was still pushing himself to keep going. It wasn’t okay, and if you weren’t terrified of the repercussions, you’d have a word with Diavolo about making Lucifer do his work for him. “Go to bed, dear… I’ll be up soon…” Which you knew was bullshit. It was already two in the morning, and he woke up early too, the least he could do is try to get a little bit of sleep and rest his head on an actual pillow instead of a stack of papers.

You sighed loudly outside the door, mentally telling yourself that you wouldn’t leave without him. He wouldn’t leave the office though, not with you standing outside of the door, so you quickly pushed it open, crossing your arms as you finally took in the sight of him. His hair was disheveled and his eyelids were heavy. You could only imagine how many cups of coffee he had drank to stay up this late, and even though you knew nothing could actually happen to him, you still didn’t want him to get ill. “You can’t keep staying up like this. It’s not good for you.” You shut the door behind you before going over to his desk, shaking your head when you saw the full cup of black coffee right next to him. “You need sleep, Lucifer.”

He hummed quietly, but never dropped the pen from his fingers, scribbling across the papers in front of him and you weren’t even sure if he was actually writing legibly or if he was just making little squiggle lines at this point. Nothing made what he was doing worth it, and you weren’t just going to leave the office, not without him. You walked around the desk, grabbing his arm and giving it a light tug to try to get his attention. “Hmph… You don’t need to watch me. I’ll be up when I can.” He pulled his arm away, rolling his shoulders before going back to working on the paper in front of him.

“I’ll just stay here until you’re done, then.” You huffed loudly as you walked back around to one of the arm chairs across from his desk, flopping down in it and crossing your arms across your chest. Were you tired? Yes, but if he wasn’t going to get to bed, you weren’t either. It didn’t make any sense in the long run, and by the end of all of this, you’d both be exhausted because he was too prideful to say that you were right and actually leave, and you were too persistent to just give it up and let it go.

He finally looked up from his desk, tsking his tongue and staring at you as he leaned back in his chair. “You’re being ridiculous. What is both of us losing sleep going to do?” You weren’t actually sure what the answer to that question is because honestly, you both were just going to be extra tired by morning, and you knew that he already knew that, so there was no point in you saying it. So you shrugged, giving him a little smirk as if you knew something that he didn’t about your miraculous plan to pull an all-nighter with him, but he wasn’t a fool, and he wasn’t going to fall for whatever it was that you were doing. “Is there an actual reason that you need me right now?”

There were a lot of reasons you felt like you needed him right now, some of them didn’t actually include using the bed for its intended purpose, but you still needed him in the bed to do what you were thinking. The other reason was… well… you missed him. You missed being able to curl up into his chest and cocoon he and yourself in his blankets as you both dozed off. It seemed like it had been forever since you had done something like that with him, just having an intimate moment together in private, in silence. You were able to just enjoy… him… and being with him. It might not have been a lot to him, but it meant a lot to you. “I can’t sleep…” It wasn’t lying, because in a sense, you did find it harder to fall asleep without him in the bed with you, but it was also partially because you stayed up waiting for him every night even though he told you to get some sleep before he came up because it would be a while.

He let out a small chuckle, pushing his chair away from the desk as he got up, shaking his head. “You made this whole thing about me when it was you who couldn’t sleep. I think I have something for that…” Your eyes narrowed as you watched him walk to the bookshelf that lined the wall. What was he going to do? Was there a spell that would knock you out, or did he have a secret bottle of Z-Quil hidden in the pages of one of his books? That wasn’t the main thing though, what you couldn’t stop thinking about was how absolutely clueless he was, or at least, pretended to be. How could he not piece everything that you had said together? Maybe his brain was fried from working so much that he was unable to pick up the hints that you were dropping.

With a loud sigh, you got up from your own seat and walked over to him, grabbing his hand as he reached for a book. “I can’t sleep because you’re not there…” You didn’t actually want to put it so bluntly, it was kind of embarrassing to admit things like that, especially to him. You watched his face, waiting for his reaction, and as you watched him you could have sworn that you saw his cheeks turn a light shade of pink. His hand dropped as he turned to look at you completely, a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips. It wasn’t the usual smile you’d receive for something like this, usually he’d be smug and smirk at you while giving a witty, subtle remark about how he knows just the way to help get you to sleep. This time was different though, and it was most likely due to him being so tired.

“What kind of demon would I be to deny my darling a good night's sleep?” The question kind of threw you off because in terms of demons… he’d be a pretty good one to make you not have a good night’s sleep, but you knew what he meant and you didn’t want to ruin the moment by being a smartass. His hands moved to your hips, pulling you lightly to bring you closer to him as he leaned in to rest his forehead against your own. “Let’s get some sleep. I guess we both need it.” You hummed quietly in response, and once his hands were dropped you reached out to grab one of his to lead him out of the office. If you turned your back on him and started walking by yourself, he’d probably go back to his desk and continue working, and you weren’t going to let that happen.

Both of your movements were slow, your feet practically dragged across the floor as you walked up the stairs to his room. The fact that neither of you fell or tripped up the stairs or ran into anything is shocking considering both of you could barely keep your eyes open. By the time you were in the room all you wanted to do was fall into the bed with him, cover up, and pass out. “Are you gonna-” You hadn’t had time to finish your question, which probably didn’t matter at the moment, but you knew it would be uncomfortable for him to fall asleep in what he was wearing, but apparently he didn’t care, or he was just too tired to care right then.

He fell face first onto the bed, burying his face in the pillow. It didn’t take long for the soft sound of snoring to fill the room, and the sound of it made you smile to yourself. He was finally getting some decent sleep, and if anyone deserved it, it was him. You climbed into the bed next to him, pulling the covers up around you as your eyes started to fully close. You’d both get a good night’s sleep together, and that’s all you really wanted.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me swd #obey me shall we date #obey me! shall we date #obey me! swd #om! swd #om! shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x mc #om! x reader #om! x mc #obey me gn!mc #obey me Lucifer #om! Lucifer #obey me Lucifer x reader #obey me Lucifer x mc #lucifer avatar of pride

[thepremedthatwrites]

Insufferable

request: Hi lovely, can you do Peter pevensie x reader imagine, please? The reader meets Pevensies in Narnia, but from the beginning she and Peter can't get along together, lots of arguments, while secretly and slowly developing feelings towards each other they don't want to admit, lot of sexual tension before smth happens but eventually they'll end up together. you can include some smut stuff. Thanks xx

hi, so i was gone for a while sorry about that haha but now school is done for the year so i can focus on writing more also this is going to be a multi part story cause it’s enemies to lovers

part 2 | part 3

A soft breeze brushed my face as my eyes fluttered open. I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion as I turned to where my bedroom window should have been. Instead, a large bookshelf filled with a myriad of leather bound books was there.  The confusion grew as I took in my surroundings.  Where my nightstand should have stood was a trunk.  My dark blue comforter was now a deep maroon.  My sheets felt softer than they ever were.  As I ran a hand over them, I realized they were silk.  

“You’re up,” a voice said.  I jumped, my head snapping in the direction where the voice came from.  A tall, blond man sat in an armchair across the room.  “Lucy found you laying in the meadows.  I carried you here.  I should fetch you a maid.  You look like a mess.”  He spoke quickly, not giving me any time to interject until he was finished.  

“Where am I?” I asked, choosing to ignore the man’s last comments about me.

“Narnia,” the man said.  He stepped closer to me and as he approached, the light from the lantern on the nightstand illuminated him.  On top of his head sat a golden crown decorated with jewels.  He had good bone structure, his jawline strong and sharp.  His sparkling blue eyes studied me.

“I’m being serious,” I said, crossing my arms.  I wasn’t wearing a bra and the shirt I was wearing did not offer much coverage concerning my breasts.  The man pulled his full lips into a smirk.

“And so am I.”  I took a deep breath, not wanting to start a fight with the man who seemed to have some power if his crown was any indication.

“Please just tell me where I am.  I have a very important presentation for school tomorrow and I cannot be wasting time sitting here.”

“You’re from Earth, aren’t you,” he said, the smirk still on his face as he sat down on the bed.  

“What kind of question is that?  Of course I am.”

“I hate to break it to you, darling, but you aren’t on Earth anymore.”

“I seriously don’t have time for this.  If you don’t tell me where I am, I’ll have to call the police.”  I started searching for my cell phone which had been tossed somewhere onto my bed before I fell asleep.  My hands moved the sheets around, my eyes frantically looking for the familiar rectangular shape of my phone.

“I already told you where you are,” the man said, laughing at me.  “You are in Narnia.”

I let out a huff as I gave up my fruitless search.  “Alright fine, whatever.  I’m in Narnia.  How do I get back to Earth?”

“How would I know?”  I wanted to bury my face into the pillow and scream.  Was he being serious?

“If you won’t be of any help, you can leave.”

“I’m afraid not, darling.  You see, I’m the high king here which means I have to make sure you aren’t a threat to my nation.”  I let out an incredulous laugh.

“Who let you be king?”

“High king, actually.”

“King, high king, whatever.  You most certainly aren’t acting like any sound ruler right now.”

“Would you prefer I tied you up and interrogated you?”  I bit back my response.  I wasn’t sure if he would actually do that if I weren’t careful enough.

“Okay fine.  What must you know in order to determine that I am not a threat to your precious nation?”

“Well first, you could be a bit more respectful.  You are talking to the high king after all.  Second, tell me your name.”

“I was told not to tell my name to strangers.”

“I’m hurt, don’t you trust me?”  The man feigned a look of betrayal as I stayed silent, narrowing my (e/c) eyes at him.  “Okay fine, I’ll go first.  My name is High King Peter the Magnificent, Lord of Cair Paravel and Emperor of the Lone Islands.”

“That’s a mouthful.”

“Now that you know my name, will you tell me yours?”  

“Okay, fine,” I sighed.  “My name is (y/n).  Happy now?”  King Peter smiled, nodding his head slowly.

“Very good, (y/n).  My second question is how did you find your way to Narnia?”

“I’m not sure,” I said, my voice softer as I tried to rack my brain for any memory of how I could’ve ended up here.  “All I remember is falling asleep in my bed and then waking up here.”

“Interesting,” the king said, almost more to himself than to me.  “Well, I’m not sure how you got here or how we can get you back but I’m sure Aslan would know.”

“Who’s Aslan?” I questioned.  King Peter looked at me, the ghost of a smile on his face.

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.  Perhaps I’ll have Lucy explain that to you.”

“Who is Lucy?”

“My sister.  You’ll meet her tomorrow along with all the others.  But now, you should sleep.  It’s late.  I’ll see you tomorrow (y/n).”  He walked over to the large mahogany doors.

“Good night, Your Majesty.  It was a pleasure talking with you.”

“You should drop that sarcastic tone if you want to survive here,” King Peter said as he started to open the door.

“Is that a threat?” I asked, raising my eyebrow.

“Only if you want it to be.”  And with that, he left the room, closing the door behind him.  I buried myself deep into the covers, squeezing my eyes closed.  Maybe when I woke up, I’d be back in my bedroom.  That’s what I hoped.  Instead, I tossed and turned in the sheets.  Although they were of the softest material imaginable, I couldn’t fall asleep.  I let out a sigh, admitting defeat before getting out of the bed.  I looked around the room, spotting a wardrobe in the corner.  I pulled open the door to see a white robe, along with a few other articles of clothing.  I grabbed the robe, wrapping it around my body before opening the door.  

The door opened to a hallway, torches lighting the way.  The cool stone pressing against my feet as I walked along the corridor.  Every now and then I would pass a few doors.  All of them were always tightly shut.  I wasn’t sure where I was going and I was definitely not sure of how to get back to the room I had been in before.  That didn’t matter to me.  I just needed to clear my head.  The hallways I was walking in seemed to be reaching an end, two large wooden doors waiting for me.  The right one was slightly ajar, candlelight spilling from behind it.

I crept towards the doors.  I peeped in to see shelves upon shelves of books.  I felt my mouth fall slightly open as I cautiously walked into the room.  The shelves reached up to the tall ceiling.  In the middle of the ceiling was a large glass dome where the full moon was visible.  “Beautiful, isn’t it?” a voice said.  I tore my eyes from the moon to see a man sitting in an armchair near a fireplace, a brown book in his hand.  

“I’m sorry for disturbing you,” I said quickly.  An amused smile formed on his face.

“Don’t be.  You must be the girl Lucy found in the meadows.”

“Apparently I am,” I said while slowly walking towards the man.  “May I?” I asked, motioning to the empty seat across from him.

“Of course.”  I quickly sat down, fidgeting with my hands.

“Am I truly in Narnia?” I asked.

“Trust me, if Peter was lying you would know.  He is a horrible liar.”  I couldn’t help but smile.  

“I just never heard of Narnia before.”

“Most people from Earth haven’t.”

“I feel like I should do my research on the place.  I don’t want to offend anyone.”  As soon as the words left my mouth, my mind immediately flashed to my interaction with Peter.  “Well, not offend anyone else, I mean.”

“I’m guessing Peter wasn’t the most welcoming.”

“I don’t know.  There was just something about the way he talked to me that was infuriating.  It was like he was amused by me.  I couldn’t stand it.”

“Well, I apologize for my brother’s actions.”

“You’re his brother?”  The man nodded.  “Does that mean you’re a king too?”  He nodded again.  Great, I’ve met two royals and both meetings had been in my pajamas.  

“King Edmund, that’s me.”  

“Why isn’t your title long like your brothers?”

“Oh it is, I just don’t like stroking myself.”  I let out a chuckle, King Edmund joining in.  “You’ll get to meet Susan and Lucy tomorrow morning at breakfast.”

“Oh, I’m invited to dine with the royals?” I questioned, raising an eyebrow.

“Only if you choose to grace us with your presence.”  I felt my lips tug into a smile.

“Of course, I couldn’t disappoint the kings and queens of Narnia.”

“How generous,” King Edmund replied, a matching smile on his face.  “We should head to bed now.  You don’t want to be sleeping at the dining table tomorrow.”

“Yes, we should,” I said, exhaustion finally hitting me as I got up.

“Do you know where you’re going?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“I can show you, I have a feeling I know which room Peter put you in.”  He got up from his seat, walking towards the doors with his book still in his hands.  I quickly followed as he opened the door, holding it open for me.  We walked down hallways that seemed somewhat familiar to me.

“How do you remember where to go?” I asked as we walked.

“I don’t.  I just walk and hope I go to the right place.”  I let out a soft laugh as we passed a door where guards stood.  “I would use the guards as reference,” he continued, motioning towards the standing guards, “but they all look the same with that ridiculous face.”  He mimicked the face of the guards, eyebrows furrowed, nose flared, and mouth twisted into a frown as they stayed focused on protecting whatever was in their room.  “They look constipated all the time.”  I let out another laugh, louder than the other.  I immediately covered my mouth, hoping the noise didn’t disturb anyone.  Edmund laughed at this, the sound of the door opening cutting him off.

King Peter stood in the doorway, sleep still clouding his eyes.  “What are you doing, Ed?” he asked, before his eyes landed on me.  “You both should be asleep.”  His voice was sterner than before as his cold blue eyes focused on me.  

“Don’t worry Pete.  I was showing her back to her room, that’s all.”

“You two shouldn’t be alone together, lest someone believes you two to be partaking in a scandal.”  My face warmed at his accusation.

“I’m sure my reputation isn’t going to be ruined by being seen with King Edmund,” I said.

“I wasn’t talking about you.  Ed, you are a king.  You shouldn’t be seen with any girl, especially a peasant.”  

“I’m not a peasant.”

“Well, you certainly aren’t royalty.”

“So that makes me less than?’

“Technically, yes.”

“Well being royal doesn’t make you any more pleasant!”

“You should be thankful I’m letting you stay here.  Unless you want to live on the streets.”

“At least the streets don’t have you.”  I made my eyes meet his.  My face felt like it was on fire as I narrowed my eyes.  His jaw was clenched as his eyes stared down at me.  

“Let’s get you to bed,” Edmund softly said, his hand wrapped around my arm.  “And you, go to bed,” he added, looking at King Peter.

“Good night,” King Peter said roughly.

“Good night, your majesty,” I replied before mockingly curtseying.  He turned around, slamming the door behind him.

Edmund and I walked on in silence for a moment.  “Well that went nicely,” Edmund finally said as we neared a door.

“He truly is insufferable.  Did you hear what he said?  Calling me a peasant like I was worth nothing.  The audacity!”

Edmund only nodded, a small smile on his face.  “You should go to sleep before you get yourself kicked out by Pete.”

I let out a huff.  “I’ll try to be on my best behavior tomorrow,” I promised as I opened the door.  I was surprised to see it was the same room I had woken up in.  “How did you know which room to take me to?”

“This is the room Peter has his most important guest stay in,” Edmund said, the smile still on his face.

#peter pevensie #high king peter #high king peter the magnificent #King Peter the Magnificent #peter pevensie fanfic #peter pevensie imagine #peter pevensie smut #peter pevensie x reader #peter x reader #Peter x Y/N #narnia #The Chronicles of Narnia #narnia fanfiction #narnia imagine #narnia smut

[yikestripes]

Good Morning, Sunshine

i was feeling something a little extra domestic and fluffy tonight so i whipped this up :)

word count: 1.7k

warnings: none; s o much fluff

“Hello?” You were barely audible, considering your phone ringing had not only woken you up, but the vibrating on the nightstand scared the living hell out of you.

“Hey babe, we just finished up the case. We’re boarding the jet now; I should be at your apartment in about 3 or so hours.” Spencer said, sounding exhausted himself.

“I’ll be waiting. You sound like you haven’t slept, please try to get some rest on the jet.”

“You don’t have to wait up, it’s gonna be like, 4:30 am D.C time.”

“Promise me you’ll sleep at least a little bit.”

“I’ll make sure he knocks out.” You heard Derek say on the other end.

“Thanks Derek. I love you, Spence. Have a safe flight.”

“I don’t really have control over that, but I love you too. See you tomorrow.” You shook your head with a small laugh; either Spencer really was delirious, or he didn’t know you at all. You always waited up for him when you knew he was coming home. It’s not like you’d be able to sleep anyway, you’d be awake worrying until you heard him come through the door and then make all the noise possible changing his clothes and slipping into bed. Sometimes you wondered if he even realized how loud he could be.

You put your phone back on the nightstand and climbed out of bed, pulling one of Spencer’s hoodies over your head as you made your way to the kitchen. You hummed to yourself as you looked around, wondering how you were going to entertain yourself for the next few hours while you waited. You looked to your bookshelf, but remembered that reading always made you tired. You looked at the TV and remembered that all the shows you were currently watching, you were watching with Spencer, and you both actively tried not to watch without the other. That left one option; baking.

You pulled the ingredients together quickly, already having a plan in place. You were going to make Spencer’s favorite treat; your lemon poppy seed muffins that you made every once in a while, which is what made them so special. Spencer fell in love with those before he had fallen in love with you, whenever you brought them to his office to surprise him when you two first started hanging out. He constantly joked that those were the reason you two were still together, to which you would smack his arm and he would give you that sweet little smile that only Spencer Reid could muster.

You grabbed your speaker from your bedroom and blasted some classic rock as you worked the ingredients together. By the time they were in the oven, an hour had already passed and Spencer would be there within another 2 hours. You looked to your cat, Peanut Butter, who had lazily strolled into the kitchen and just looked at you.

“What?” You asked him as he stared at you. He meowed quietly in response, and rubbed against your bare legs. You picked him up and scratched his little head, earning a soft purr in response. “I’ll go back to bed soon, PB. I’m waiting for Spence,” You said. You frowned to yourself and put him back on the ground, where he proceeded to swish his tail at you as he walked away.

“I’ve taken to talking to my cat. I’ve really lost it now. Oh great, now I’m talking to myself in my empty apartment while I bake at 2:30 in the morning. This is normal.” You said to yourself.

You shook your head once again and went to go watch a movie while the muffins finished. You decided to watch one of your old favorites, Jaws. Every time you watched it together (which was often, considering it was one of your favorite movies), Spencer would always critique the likelihood of a killer shark ever coming that close to the beach and killing that many people. You would argue back that it could have gotten a taste for humans, because sharks weren’t the brightest creatures, and he would argue that the only time in history a shark that we knew of existed at that size was the megalodon, which went extinct some time ago. Eventually you would stop responding, Spencer would wrap his arm around you to pull you closer, and you would just enjoy the movie.

The oven beeped about halfway through the movie, about 30 minutes before Spencer was supposed to come home. You grinned to yourself as you set them aside to cool, and started up the coffee maker. You pulled down Spencer’s favorite Doctor Who mug from the cabinet, set it beside your mug and the coffee machine, and went to grab his favorite pajamas from the bedroom. You knew Spencer was utterly capable of taking care of it himself, but you setting everything out for him was one of the things he loved most about you, it just showed him how much you cared time and time again.

You were in the last 10 minutes of the movie when you heard the floor creaking outside of the door, and your heart leapt into your throat. You could hear Spencer outside of the door fumbling with his keys, a sure sign that he was tired and probably had just woken up. You smiled at the fact that he had taken your advice, or Derek forced him to.

“Hey babe.” You turned the TV off and ran over to him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Hi stranger.” You pulled away after a solid minute and ran your thumb across his cheek, taking in the circles under his eyes. “Oh baby, please tell me you slept.” Spencer smiled.

“Actually, yes. Emily actually had to wake me up this time, I slept through takeoff and landing.” He grinned.

“I laid your pajamas out on the bed for you, they’re your favorites.” Spencer placed a chaste kiss on your lips as he headed to your room. Although you hadn’t officially moved in together, Spencer basically lived at your apartment. It wasn’t out of lack of commitment or really anything else, it was somewhere between sheer laziness and not really asking the question. You both had keys to each other's apartments and could come and go as you pleased, not to mention Peanut Butter adored Spencer, but it had never really passed through your thoughts to ask him to move in.

You brewed some coffee for you both and made his just how he liked it, ridiculous amounts of sugar. It was amazing he functioned throughout the day without getting any sort of sugar crash. He emerged from your room a few minutes later, pajama clad and his hair sticking up at funny angles from the sweatshirt he put on.

“Coffee too? What did I do to deserve you,” He kissed you again, taking the mug from you.

“That’s not all,” You grinned and stepped aside, revealing the muffin tray on the counter.

“Oh my God, muffins!” He ditched his coffee mug and grabbed one, shoving half of it in his mouth. “Ohh my God, the lemon poppyseed ones!” He said through a mouthful of muffin.

“Ew, Spence, that’s disgusting!” You laughed.

“Sorry,” He grinned through his muffin-filled mouth. You shook your head as you sipped your coffee.

You looked out at the balcony as the sky began to lighten. You went over and pulled the door open, plopping yourself on one of the fluffy couches. Spencer grabbed his coffee and followed you, shutting the door just after Peanut Butter sauntered out. You patted your lap and he jumped up, purring. Spencer pet him gently, sitting snugly beside you. You leaned against him and took a deep breath, closing your eyes. You opened them to see Spencer staring down at you, a goofy smile forming on his face.

“What, Muffin Boy?” You laughed, wiping away a crumb from his cheek.

“Just looking at you, you look so beautiful in this light.” You blushed. Despite being together for just around 2 years, he still knew how to give you butterflies.

“I love you.” He kissed your head and looked out at the rising sun.

“I love you too.” You sat in silence for a little while, just watching as the sun lazily grew over the D.C horizon.

“Want to move in?” You broke the silence. Spence looked down at you with his eyebrows raised.

“Haven’t I basically done that already?” He asked.

“I mean yeah, but you’re still paying rent for your old place.”

“I would say I forgot, but I have an eidetic memory.” You giggled and Spencer grinned, happy to have made you laugh.

“So, what do you say?”

“Statistically couples who move in together have a higher chance of a successful marriage, whereas couples who get married and then move in together have a much higher divorce rate dependent on the age of the couple. So yes, I will move in.” Much to Peanut Butter’s chagrin, you sat up and turned around, locking Spencer in a passionate kiss. Before things could get too heated, Peanut Butter got jealous and swatted at your cheek. You and Spencer broke apart and looked at the small black cat, who just tilted his head.

“You are such a little asshole sometimes.” You said, staring him down. He stared back before turning around, sassily swishing his tail in your face before pausing at the door, and looking at you. Your jaw dropped at the attitude and Spencer let him inside, turning his attention back to you.

“I forgot, he’s so possessive over me.” Spencer grinned, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Shut up.” You grabbed your mug and headed inside, shutting the door behind you and leaving Spencer laughing on the porch.

You left your empty mug in the sink and climbed into bed, Peanut Butter and Spencer joining you moments later. Spencer put the cat down on the bed and climbed into bed beside you, pulling you closer as Peanut Butter settled in the middle. Spencer placed a chaste kiss on your forehead and fell asleep with a smile on his face. Nothing more than a calm, domestic life with you was anything he ever wanted.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid imagines #dr spencer reid #dr reid #doctor spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds imagines #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotch hotchner #aaron hotchner x oc #aaron hotchner imagines #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #emily prentiss imagine #derek morgan #derek morgan x reader #agent derek morgan #penelope garcia x derek morgan #derek morgan x penelope garcia #penelope garcia #penelope garcia and derek morgan #derek morgan imagines #derek morgan x oc #jj

[elias-code]

Two Left Hooves [2/7] - Choice II

Choose your own adventure ~ “What’s Better than Breakfast in Bed?“

Characters: Technoblade x gn!reader, Philza

Summary: You've asked Techno whether he wants to sleep with you or not, and he makes up some excuse to join you. He cuddles with you into the night, but you're greeted with a nightmare, Dream's voice warns you of something to come, but refuses to specify what. Techno pulls you out of the dream and you sleep undisturbed until he greets you with breakfast in the morning.

Warnings: Cussing, Nightmares

IF YOU HAVE NOT READ THE INTRO AND CHOSEN YOUR ROUTE, DO SO HERE: INTRO

— The Bird —

"Techno-" I said, kneeling to his level, "What do you want? I mean, you can sleep with me if you want to."

He paused, expecting a quip, but instead, I'd forced him to choose for himself.

"Seeing as you’re already cold, even with the fire..." He clicked his tongue, testing his words, "I want to keep you warm."

Holy shit that's adorable, I thought. Techno never let emotions shine through his words. When I talked to him, I had to constantly read between the lines. His monotone speech was, I supposed, a product of his repressed emotions. Ever since meeting him, I felt like it was my responsibility to dismantle the fortress he’d put around his heart.

"Excuses, excuses," I teased, “but you’re right, I’m gonna freeze without you.” I smiled at him. He let out a small huff, but his expression was unreadable.

"It's not an excuse, it's a reason," he said, turning to me, "They're desperate for me to be at the banquet, but they won't let me go alone, alright? If I let you freeze to death, it wouldn't make for great PR."

I rolled my eyes and scoffed, standing up. I offered a hand to him, to help him stand, "Thank you for not killing me so you don't have to go," I whispered.

"No problem, heh," he took my hand and stood, "I'll be back in a bit, alright?"

"Where are you going?"

"Just downstairs, get ready for bed," He said, dodging the question. He let go of my hand and awkwardly pat me on the head, leaving the room.

I didn't know how the ball was going to work out. On the one hand, Techno would go to the banquet and it'd be as awkward as it's always been between us. On the other, I'd manage to tear down his walls and reveal his emotions, changing our relationship forever.

Techno presented himself as untouchable, calling himself 'the blood god,' but I saw him hold back tears when Tommy betrayed him. I saw the destruction his wrath brought upon L'Manburg. He has compassion, but if he bottled them up any longer, there's no telling who he'd become. He couldn't keep letting everything out as anger, or we'd all pay the price.

I dressed for the night, setting his cape on the back of his chair. I chose a simple shirt and pants, the thickest ones I'd brought with me. I was still cold, but I took the opportunity to inspect his room.

He lives in the attic, a small loft with sparse decoration. What little furniture he did have was extravagant and of the highest quality. His desk chair was made of dark oak wood, the velvet red cushion was well worn. The table matched, a knife was stuck in it, too hard for me to pull out. It was dull, probably used to open letters.

His bed was made, probably just before I got there since it was only roughly put together. Next to it, there was a giant bookshelf pushed against the wall. Most of the books were unmarked and dusty, but a few of them were clean, recently put back. The Art of War, Odyssey, and the Iliad were among them. Their spines were worn and multiple bookmarks were sticking out of the top of each.

"Do you read much?" Techno asked, startling me.

"Um, oh," I stuttered, "I don't know where to get books from, so..."

"No?" He reached over and pulled The Art of War out of the bookshelf.

"I live out in the middle of nowhere," I shrugged, "The only thing I read is my mail."

"That's pretty sad," he said matter-of-factly.

"I have plenty of things to occupy my time with, Technoblade," I crossed my arms.

"Mhm," he handed me the book. Its cover was more worn than its spine, the old leather was cracking at the corners. "Take that home with you, I've read it a thousand times. Might come in handy."

"I suppose I can use it to knock intruders out," I flipped it over. It was like a brick in my hand, heavy and hard enough to break a window. "Thanks."

I yawned, realising how late it's gotten. I left my house almost a full twenty-four hours ago and I rode endlessly until I got here. I was exhausted.

I walked over to my pile of stuff and carefully placed the book in my bag. I then took a bit of a running start and jumped onto the bed, landing in a pile of furs and knitted blankets. "Don't wake me up in the morning," I muttered.

Techno came over and sat on the bed next to me. "I'll try not to," He said.

I shuffled under the blankets and shivered. The furs were enough to keep my body heat in, but I wouldn't tell Techno that. I heard him pick the covers up to join me. Soon, I felt his arms wrap around me, his chest to my back.

My cheeks flushed bright pink and I stifled a giggle. The blood god is snuggling with me... This is not what I thought was going to happen when I joined the server. I smiled and put my hand on his, wrapped around my waist. No one was going to believe this ever happened.

--- The Bird's Dream ---

He’s there, he’s right there. I need to go see him, I need to get there before it’s too late. There are so many people in the way, I’m not going to be there in time to dance. Who are all these people? They whisper about him as if they know him, as if they watch his every step and live in his mind. Left and right, they whisper things about me, about him.

“Did you hear, he’s going to the ball!”

“Oh and with that beautiful bird,”

“If only they knew. Tsk.”

Their eyes were unmoving, fixated on me. I shoved my way through the crowd, suddenly falling into the void.

“Did you really think it was going to be that simple? That you’d just seduce him with the snap of your fingers? He’s not a dog, he can’t be trained. He’s a wild animal. He’s unstable, He’ll break your heart, little bird.” Dream's voice boomed, echoing in my mind.

"Who are you?" I tried to yell, but only air came out.

"I'm the one who whitelisted you, the one who trusted you."

"What does that mean?" I was desperate to stop, to wake up, but I was falling infinitely.

"That's not for you to know, Puppet. You're here because I have a job for you, nothing more. You're the only one that can get through to him."

"What- What's my job? Why am I here?"

"You'll know soon enough-"

--- Technoblade ---

I slept soundly until I felt them stir under me. It sounded like they were having a nightmare, they muttered my name. What the hell are they dreaming about? I pulled them closer, brushing my hand through their hair. I wanted to wake them softly, so they'd forget about whatever was just racing through their mind.

They took a deep breath, signalling their waking. I continued to stroke their hair, "You ok, Bird?"

They mumbled an 'ok' and turned to face me, burying their face in my neck. I did the same and took deep breaths for them to follow. Within minutes, they were asleep in my arms. It felt right.

I didn't have the heart to admit it. If I did, I'd just have to tear it all away again, I'd be the one thing I truly hated. I'd be a traitor.

Don't get attached, Techno. We get to break hearts now, not just crush them! If you name this one, you'll regret it. Nothing screams ruin more than you do.

-

I woke up to birds chirping outside my window. The weather had finally let up, now I could finally get real work done. It took me a couple of seconds to remember the person fast asleep in my arms. A lump formed in my throat, but I swallowed it.

Carefully, I picked up the covers and snuck out of bed. I wanted to keep my promise not to wake them up, and so I immediately left the room, avoiding the creaky floorboards as I descended the stairs to the kitchen.

I pulled half a dozen eggs out of their box and cracked and cooked them over the fire, adding the occasional spice so it wasn't too bland. I toasted some bread and stuck it all on separate plates. Four eggs for me, two for them. I was two times their size, after all. The image of them laying on my bed flashed in my mind, making me smile. I shook it off. I couldn't get attached any more than I was now.

I pulled myself together and went back upstairs with the food. I put my plate on my desk, pulling the knife out of it and stashing it in my drawer. I walked over to the bed, placing their food on the nightstand. I reached over and gently pat them on the head, slowly waking them.

"Good morning," I whispered.

They opened their eyes and mumbled "G'morn'n,"

"I made you some eggs," I said, still petting their head, "You should eat them while they're hot,"

"Ok," they sat up and I moved back over to my desk, sitting in my chair.

They yawned and stretched, their shirt raising over their waist, exposing their belly button. I looked away and busied myself with my food.

Oh, look at them, they're so cute... so naive... so vulnerable.

I wanted to scream at the voices to shut up. They had been plaguing me ever since Phil suggested I invite them. For some reason, they had a vendetta against the bird. They wanted to see them suffer to, in turn, make me suffer. The voice's presence itself was enough to turn my hair grey, but this added a whole extra layer to my agony.

"Techno?"

"Hmm?" I didn't look up from my food.

"Did you make me breakfast in bed?"

I looked at them, hiding my embarrassment, "You told me not to wake you, but I was hungry, and I thought you'd like some too."

They blushed and shrugged. "You know me so well," they sighed.

"And I thought you'd appreciate the origin of the eggs," I added.

"Oh, and where are they from?" Their mouth was full, making them mumble a bit. They looked a bit scared.

"Well," I leaned towards them in my chair, "They're from The egg."

"Bullshit," they called, stuffing their face with more eggs. Maybe I should have given them more.

I laughed, genuinely, "They're just chicken eggs, I doubt the egg would taste very good,"

We ate and joked like nothing was wrong in the world. They were so good at making me feel at home, but the voices were eager to remind me of my past. I wouldn't let them spoil this. What we had was new to me, and I wouldn't just lay down and take the voices at their word. Gods know they aren't worth their weight.

— Philza —

“Hey, you two…” I creaked open the front door to Techno’s cabin.

The bird smiled at me from the breakfast bar, “Hey Phil, good morning!” They seemed very chipper for having just woken up. Both of them were already dressed in the day’s clothes, excluding overcoats that hung on the hooks by the door.

“Hello, Phil,” Techno nodded at me. His hair was neatly braided and they were both already dressed.

"How was your morning?"

"Techno made me breakfast!" They laughed. That was a surprise, he didn't even cook for me.

"Ooh, nice," I said, "What's better than breakfast in bed, eh?"

"Riches beyond your wildest dreams," Techno chuckled. I guess they were both in a good mood this morning.

“It’s nice to see you, mate,” I said to the bird, wandering over to join them at the breakfast bar. I sat down on a stool next to them, putting the notebook on the counter in front of me. “I’ve got something for you.”

“Ooh, what is it?” They said, sliding the notebook over to them. I reached over and opened it to the page I was referring to.

“The banquet has a dress code, and I’m assuming you don’t have anything that matches it,” Everything they wore was forest green or yellow, sometimes they had black or white clothes, but it was few and far between.

“What’s the dress code?”

“It’s blue, black, white, and gold,” I pointed to two drawings on the page, “I’m thinking either I make you a dress or a tuxedo, or I can mix the two. A tux top with a skirt. What do you think?”

They pressed their lips together, surveying their options. I tried my best to draw them, although they were rough sketches of a fancier design in my head. I could draw buildings and architecture for my blueprints, but flow-y things were not as easy.

/// UNDER CONSTRUCTION, BRRRRR ///

Choose your garment! It only affects the story slightly, I promise! There is no gender attached to them, it just changes how you’ll interact with people :)

Dress

Tux-dress

Tuxedo

#technoblade x reader #techno x reader #c!techno x reader #c!technoblade x reader #dreamxd #dreamsmp #dsmp #mcyt #dreamsmp x reader #dsmp x reader #philza #elias original #two left hooves

[silhouetteofacedar]

Fox Mulder, Closet Romantic Ch. 20: Nattduksbord

Previous Chapter - AO3 - MSR, rated E

This means something; Mulder can feel it.

This signifies a shift in their relationship; a step forward, from platonic partners to a romantic couple. It’s a shared experience that has the potential to change their dynamic forever. Years of trust, fighting together against a common enemy, seeking the truth… it could all come crashing down today, in a shopping mall in Woodbridge, Virginia.

They’re going to IKEA.

Summer is on the rise, and the humidity is close to stifling as they buckle into his car. Scully’s wearing a little striped t-shirt, capri pants, and sandals, revealing sky blue painted toes. For a disorienting moment Mulder wonders if he’s going to develop a foot fetish. Probably not, but Dana Scully could make even the most vanilla of men want to do crazy things.

“Do you have your shopping list?” Scully asks as he starts the car.

He pulls the folded scrap of paper out of the chest pocket of his white t-shirt. “Right here,” he replies, eyes darting over to her for one more look as he holds out the list.

She takes it, catching his eyes momentarily. “Why do you keep looking at me like that?” she asks.

I want to suck your toes. “You look nice today, that’s all.”

“Oh. Well, thank you.”

Scully can probably tell he’s desperate for her; she can read him like a dog-eared, yellowed paperback. He’s simultaneously grateful for her sharp instincts and embarrassed by his carnal desires. He hasn’t gotten laid in four years, and he fears he’ll be too eager when the time comes. As it is, he can barely believe she’s let him have even the smallest glimpses of her as a sexual being. She’s intoxicating, and he’s dizzy with the knowledge that this beautiful, brilliant, downright edible woman actually wants him. Him, a mortal man of aliens and bad ties and a porn collection that’s gradually becoming least seventy-five percent redheads. A man without a bed.

Hence their Saturday morning pilgrimage to the shrine where all new couples journey to find furnishings, low prices, and themselves.

“So, we’re looking for one tall bookshelf, a locking filing cabinet, a bed, and two night tables,” Scully reads. She refolds the paper and reaches across him to tuck it back into his shirt pocket. “That’s clearly not all going to fit in this car,” she notes.

“I’ll get the bigger stuff delivered,” he says.

It’s only a twenty minute drive from Mulder’s place, and they have the air-conditioning on. Mulder is starting to relax; it’s been a long time since he’s had a partner, in the domestic sense, and he’d forgotten that it makes the mundane more bearable.

Scully clears her throat almost imperceptibly. “I’m proud of you, by the way.”

“Really? Why?” Mulder asks.

“You managed to get rid of a lot of stuff,” she says, turning up the dial on the car’s air conditioner. “And organization is very clearly not your strong suit, so progress should be acknowledged and celebrated.”

“Yippee,” Mulder deadpans.

“You know, it’s odd; we’ve known each other for all these years and I never asked… why don’t you have a bed, Mulder?”

There it is, the question he knew would come up at some point. He clears his throat, grips the steering wheel a little tighter. “I, uh… I lived with someone, around ‘91. Another agent, actually. We were together for a while, and then one day she took some assignment in Europe and that was that. I got rid of everything that was hers, and that, uh, included the bed.” Technically our bed, he thinks. He winces. He’s never talked to Scully about Diana before, and he wonders if she’ll be upset that he was withholding such a large piece of personal information.

Scully is quiet. “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “That’s… I didn’t know.”

“I’m sorry I never mentioned it,” Mulder says. “It’s not like it’s some big painful secret. I just… don’t really think about her anymore.”

“It’s alright,” Scully says. “I think it’s best for these kinds of things to come up naturally. And… I was dating someone when we met,” Scully confesses. “We broke up as soon as I got back from Bellefleur.”

Mulder looks at her quickly. “Really? Why?”

She furrows her brow. “Multiple reasons, but primarily I realized that this job, my assignment, was bigger than I’d anticipated. And the things you and I went through together, the things I’d seen… when I was honest with myself, I didn’t want to be tied down to him. To have to go home and have this man ask me how my day was, as though he could ever understand even half of what we do.”

“So you chose the job over him,” Mulder muses.

“In essence… I chose you,” Scully points out. “Whether I knew it then or not. I’d never be able to turn my back on you.”

Mulder exhales slowly. He’s strangely moved.

“Take a left at the next light,” Scully prompts softly. “And yes, I do realize the irony in breaking things off with a man because of his normalcy, only to continue trying to date so-called ‘normal’ men.”

Mulder shrugs. “No, it makes sense. Maybe he just wasn’t right for you, but the next normal guy could be, right?”

“Right,” Scully sighs. “Einstein’s definition of insanity. Doing the same thing over and over again while expecting different results.”

“I’ve been led to believe that being with me is another type of insanity,” Mulder points out. “And objectively, I can’t disagree.”

“You do make me crazy,” Scully agrees, voice low. “But that’s not always a bad thing.” He feels her small hand squeeze his thigh. “And I fully intend to return the favor.”

Mulder lets out a quiet groan, hands sweaty on the steering wheel. “You planning on giving me some roadside assistance, Agent Scully? Because I’m gonna need it if you keep doing that.”

She removes her hand, tucks her hair behind her ear. “I didn’t do anything,” she says innocently.

“Uh huh.” He pulls into the IKEA parking lot. “Well, we’re here. You ready?”

“As ready as a person can be for a labyrinthian furniture store on a muggy Saturday,” she replies.

-

“This is fucking ridiculous,” Mulder says from his spot on the bedroom floor, surrounded by scattered pieces of a ‘HOLLEBY’ bedside table. “These instructions are useless and-” he flips through the booklet, “-thirty-two pages long, Jesus.”

Scully doesn’t respond; her eyes are glued to her own manual as she assembles a drawer from the second of the two nightstands. “Shh,” she hushes him softly. “I’m concentrating.”

“How have you managed to put any of these pieces together?” he asks, scooting across the floor to her. “There aren’t even words, just vague illustrations.”

She has a screw between her lips as she lines up two of the wood pieces. “I took wood shop in high school,” she says around the metal pin. She removes it and inserts it into a pre-drilled hole. “I guess that was some kind of preparation for assembling flatpack furniture?”

“That’s adorable,” Mulder says, rising to open a window. The room is stuffy with the day’s heat, and his t-shirt is glued to his back. “Do you still have any of the things you made in class?”

“The step stool in my kitchen,” she replies. “And my mom might have some things I’ve forgotten about.”

He casually strips off his sweaty t-shirt and tosses it in the laundry basket. “Remind me to look at that stool the next time we’re at your place,” he says. “Also I’m gonna order a pizza, you interested?”

Scully looks up at him then and is seemingly surprised by the absence of his shirt. “It’s hot in here,” Mulder explains, almost defensive.

“Oh, I’m not complaining,” Scully says, eyes shamelessly traveling his torso. “And I’m always interested.”

“Are we still talking about pizza here, or…”

“Make my half one with everything, please,” she says, attention returning to her project.

“Wait a minute,” he says, dropping to his knees next to her on the carpet. “I’m not done here.” He leans in and presses his mouth to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, tasting the salt on her skin. How she can still smell so good on a sticky June day, he doesn’t know; but he wants to lick her entire body.

“Mulder,” she sighs, putting down her screwdriver, “You’re distracting me.”

“That’s the idea,” he says, lips wandering up her neck and behind her ear. He flicks his tongue against her earlobe. “Forget the furniture, honey,” he says, all hot breath and lust. “We don’t need it for what I have in mind.”

Suddenly she’s facing him, looping her arms around his neck. “I’m doing this for you,” she purrs. “Do you think I like putting together IKEA furniture? No one likes it, Mulder. It’s like a multidimensional jigsaw puzzle.”

He pulls her onto his lap. “Oh, but I think you do,” he says, nibbling her ear. “You like being capable Doctor Scully, in charge of things… showing me what those hands can do.”

She leans in, licking his full lower lip. “Not everything is about you, Mulder,” she says, pressing a scorching kiss to his mouth. “I’m just doing my coworker a favor.”

“Is that what they call this nowadays?” he asks, hands clasping her hips as she grinds down on his lap.

She shuts him up with a kiss, the furniture and pizza forgotten.

#god this took me FOREVER #lol I’m busy freaking out over my second covid shot okay don’t @ me #my fic #fmcr #xfiles #txf fic #fox mulder closet romantic #msr #they go to ikea

[the-broken-truth]

Could I request a 👦male teenage reader who is the only son of mother Miranda and has to deal with her extremely overprotective tendencies?

Broken Truth (Looks at the ask): Oh, this is going to be interesting. Let the words weave together!!!

[Mother Miranda's Chapel - The Living Quarters]

"It's not fair, Mother! I just want to go outside for at least 20 minutes!" The teenage boy said as he sat on his bed, glaring at his mother with his light blue eyes.

"I know but the village is dangerous, it's not a place for you. I have a meeting with the other lords and you are to remain here until I return. Understand?" The blonde-haired woman asked the short blond-haired boy on the bed, "[Y/N]?" she spoke again.

"Yes, Mother. I understand." The blue-eyed boy said as he looked away from his mother with disappointment in his eyes. Miranda exhaled and walked over to her son, placing her hands on his shoulders before placing a kiss on his forehead; their blue eyes met.

"I know you're upset but I need you to understand that mommy is only doing this to keep you safe; I lost your sister, I don't want to lose you too, my little dove." Miranda said before placing one more kiss on his forehead before walking out the room, looked back at her son, and closed the door behind her.

*CLICK*

'She locked it." he scoffed in his mind, 'Of course she locked it.'

This young man was [Y/N] - the eldest and only child of The Leader of the Romanian Village, Mother Miranda. He looked just like his mother, from her skin color, eye color, and golden hair; the only thing that separated them was their gender. [Y/N] loved his mother very much and he understood why she was the way she was but at the same time it was unbearable; she never allowed him to do anything - he was always in his room, the same four walls he was born in. He knew where everything was in his room: His bed was tucked away in the corner adjacent to the door - along the same wall as the window, the barred-up window. At the foot of his bed was a small desk and chair and to the left of his bed was a nightstand while far to the left of the nightstand was a bookshelf that held exactly 25 books - all of them he's read before.

He didn't have a dresser in his room for his mother would bring him clothes every morning - she would walk him to the shower and wait outside the door for him to finish before bursting into the room - with him in his birthday suit - and check him to make sure he didn't have any scars or markings on his body; how could he when you kept him locked up his entire life?

He knew about the 4 Lords - Miranda's Other Children; his siblings if he thought about it but when he asked about them...

[Flashback]

"Mother, why won't you let me meet the lords?" [Y/N] asked when his mother came in to bring his lunch one afternoon.

"There's no need for you to meet then, My Dove; they have nothing to do with you." Miranda said as she placed the plate down.

"Nothing? They're supposed to be your children, thus they would be my siblings; you would keep me from my own siblings?" He asked.

"They are not your siblings, they are means to an end to revive my true daughter and your one and only sibling." Miranda said as she looked at the glare in her son's eyes.

"You shouldn't use people like that, Mother. Besides, even if you feel that way, I want to meet them; at least to have someone to speak to." [Y/N] said as he rose to his feet.

"You can talk to me; I'm all you need, [Y/N]." Miranda said as she walked over to him.

"No, you're not all I need. I hate being in this room, Mother. All I have ever known are these four walls and you never let me do anything! Have you forgotten that I'm 15 now?! I need to get out of this room before I lose my mind." He said.

"You won't lose your mind because I won't let you!" Miranda yelled at him.

"Then let me out of here! Let me do something that doesn't involve you! Let me become my own person and have a life of my own!" [Y/N] yelled at his mother - for years, he's been holding it in and he wanted to let it go.

"I want you to let me go!" He yelled.

"NO!" Miranda yelled and her hand lashed out - striking her son in the face, making him look at her with wide eyes; when she realized what she had done, her eyes widened and she began shaking.

"[Y/N]...I'm so..." She reached out for him but her hand was knocked away and he ran out of the room; the sound of his mother calling out for him made him run faster. He turned corners and just kept running until he saw a door and bolted through it and was instantly hit with the burst of cold air. He opened his eyes and wiped away his tears before the clear vision of the village filled his eyes.

He looked behind him to see if his mother was coming before he started sliding down the mountainside to get to the village faster. He finally took his first step on the snowy rocky round - he forgot that he wasn't wearing shoes but he was Miranda's son and materialized shoes on his bare feet before he began walking around the village.

He saw many things.

Spoke to many people.

He was having fun for the first time in his life.

He met up with some teens around the same age as him - all of them talking about how hard it was having parents like theirs but before he could tell him about his own...

"[Y/N]!!!" A loud familiar voice called out. Everyone looked in the direction of the voice and bowed as they saw the Head Priestess of the Village marching forward with anger in her eyes up to the wide-eyed boy.

"Dude, you know the Head Preiestss?" one of the boys asked but before he could get an answer, his arm was grabbed and he was yanked forward.

"Why did you run?! I told you never t come out here! The village is dangerous!" Miranda said.

"No it isn't! I've been having fun, I made friends, I was really enjoying myself." the boy protested.

"I don't care! I told you you are never to leave the chapel! You need to stay where I can keep you safe! You don't need anyone else but I and that is never going to change! But...what is going to change is the security I put on your room." Miranda snarled as her wings began to sprout and covered them both before they both disappeared in the rain of feathers.

[End of flashback]

That's why the bars kept the windows closed and the locks were placed on the door.

The first time he had ever known freedom and it was taken from him by his mother.

He wanted nothing more than to get away from it all but with the way his mother was...he wasn't sure if that was ever going to happen.

Right now - he could only wait until he grew in his own power or...until someone saved him from his prison.

[End]

#resident evil 8 #mother miranda

[the-starryknight]

Someone to Notice Percy Weasley/Oliver Wood | Rated: T | Length: 1.4k

A fluffy little birthday gift for the phenomenal @skeptiquewrites, who's an incredible author and a stalwart cheerleader for rarepairs. Two of my favorites of Tee's fics are She Was Pretty (Lav/Pav), which is one of my all-time favorite non-Drarry fics and a gorgeous read of Lavender Brown post-war, and Nothing Left to Burn, Tee's brand new Wireless fic, fresh and full of Montreal life. She's also absolutely brilliant at microfics, so dig into her tag here too!

It shouldn't be such a big deal, introducing Oliver to Percy's family. Only it is a big deal, because Oliver matters a lot and Percy wants it to go well.

Percy Weasley’s tiny first-floor bedroom was precisely as it had been when he left it behind at seventeen, or so Percy claimed. Oliver had never seen it before.

Oliver lounged on the small single bed, on top of the knit blanket and the thin, well-used pillows. He’d changed into striped socks and pajama bottoms and a too-small jumper, pilfered from the perfectly organized drawers.

But Oliver couldn’t take his eyes off Percy even if he wanted to be nosy about the room.

Percy was pacing back and forth, wearing pressed trousers and a buttoned shirt, hair still shiny with product. Oliver wanted to sink his hands into it and muss it up, but that wouldn’t end well for either of them if he did it yet. So he waited. It’d take at least three more room lengths before Percy started talking again.

He was near the desk in the corner at the end of his second circuit when he turned around suddenly. “It went well,” Percy said, as though it were the most ludicrous conclusion.

“Reckon it did, yeah,” answered Oliver, running his fingers over a pull in the blanket.

“I wasn’t prepared for that possibility.”

Oliver laughed brightly, and pushed himself up to sit on the end of the bed. “I know.”

Percy hesitated, as straight-backed as the dozen sharpened quills waiting at attention in the cupholder on the desk. “You’re laughing at me. You think I’m ridiculous for being worried.”

“Never,” Oliver gulped, though he couldn’t contain the smile.

“You think I got myself so worked up over this dinner, and of course it went well, and I’m—”

“You were nervous.” Oliver pushed off the bed, crowding carefully into his space. There was enough room between them still that if Percy needed to pick up his pacing again, Oliver wouldn’t be in the way. But if — if — he wanted, he could step closer and fold himself into Oliver’s arms. “I was nervous too, when you met my da wasn’t I? And that was just one parent at a time.”

“It’s not that I thought they’d be weird about the gay thing,” Percy huffed, fixing his glasses with one hand and fidgeting with the other. He always did that when he was nervous or trying to sort something out, like seeing better would help him understand. “Charlie’s, well, that’s always been obvious, and even if Mum had a hard go with Harry’s reveal, it was never about him being queer.”

“Did you think they’d be weird about me?” teased Oliver, reaching with one cautious hand. Percy didn’t shy away, so he brushed his fingertips over the back of Percy’s hand. “You are sleeping with the enemy, after all. I beat your sister fair and square on the pitch, and I’m not going to start going easy on the Harpies just for you, family or no.”

Percy smiled at that, in the corners of his eyes and the twitch of his mouth. “Can’t exactly throw the games for you or for her, can I?”

“You could.” Oliver pressed closer, daring his luck. “Oh, Minister for Magical Games and Sports Regulation, won’t you engage in a little quid pro quo?”

“For Gin, I might,” he said, but took Oliver’s hand anyway. He teased, “Don’t know if I could swing it for you.”

Oliver gasped. “You’ll put me through dinner with every single Weasley and still not break the rules for Puddlemere?”

“As if you’d let me break the rules for you,” Percy said. He stepped forward into Oliver’s arms, and let Oliver hug him.

Percy was a little taller, and a little more lithe, but his body fit against Oliver’s perfectly, Oliver’s nose in his shoulder and his hands along his back, pulling him close. He smelled like Molly’s cooking, like onions and spices and another, older sort of home. His apartment always smelled clean, like fresh-folded laundry and a new bottle of ink.

“I wouldn’t, yeah,” Oliver answered, muffled in Percy’s starched shirt. “If we can’t win on our skill—”

“You shouldn’t win at all,” finished Percy.

Oliver flushed, glad they were standing too close for Percy to catch his embarrassment. Had he said the little phrase so often? Or was Percy paying attention too?

Percy pressed a kiss to Oliver’s forehead and stepped back to lounge against the desk. “You think it went well?” he asked, too casual, though Oliver knew the nerves underneath.

“Definitely,” he said. “They loved me, but are you surprised?”

“I mean it.”

“It went really well.”

Percy met his eyes.

At dinner, Percy had sat between George and Ginny, picking at his potatoes and adjusting his glasses, toes tapping Oliver’s under the table. His worry was subtle; no one at the table had noticed, pouring Oliver more wine and laughing at a joke Arthur had told. This dinner was a big deal for Percy, and yet not one of them seemed aware, teasing Oliver like he was already a member of the family. There was no grand reveal, no he’s Percy’s, don’t you see?, no coming out, or proclamations of welcome. It was as though Oliver’s sudden presence at Percy’s side was no more unusual than the gnomes in the garden.

It wasn't insensitivity, Oliver thought. Each of them had decided Percy was fine. Percy had it together, and Percy didn’t need reassurance. It was all true: Percy was confident and together, wise beyond his years and too competent for his own good. It was easy to stop there, and his siblings never learned to notice when Percy’s words got a bit faster — not because he was excited, but because he was afraid of being cut off — or how he paced when he was trying to work through something difficult.

Oliver grabbed him, hands on Percy’s chest, against the ridiculous collared shirt, and brought him close, nose knocking against Percy’s glasses. He kissed Percy like he noticed him: every bit all at once.

“Oh,” Percy said, breathless when Oliver let him go.

“You were very brave,” said Oliver, kissing him one more time.

“You don’t think I’m ridiculous?”

“Completely batshit. But not about dinner.”

Percy frowned at him.

“Turn around,” he said, pushing Percy’s elbow, and Percy went. “Do you see that?” Oliver pointed to the bookshelf beside the desk. “You made a call number system for your personal library. Bet you’ve even got it all written down and everything. You’re completely ridiculous.”

“I don’t have it written down,” murmured Percy.

“No?”

“...It’s an automatic charm, it records when a book’s gone out. No parchment needed.”

Oliver started to laugh, joy bubbling from his chest, smiling so hard his teeth hurt. Percy started laughing too, and then they were holding hands and laughing at the bookshelf, and standing in the tiny bedroom with only one window. They laughed until they couldn’t breathe, and then they breathed and Oliver held his hand and figured that they were probably going to be alright.

“They’ll hear,” Percy gasped, rubbing his eyes, biting his lip to stop from laughing.

“Not a thing,” Oliver grinned. “George-proof silencing charm. Cast it somewhere around your fourth lap around the room.”

“Just when did you research a George-proof silencing charm?” Percy put a hand on his shoulder, subtle confidence returning to his gaze. Oliver shivered, leaning into the touch.

“I’d like to say it was for something hot,” Oliver said. Percy stepped closer to him, his other hand drifting down the front of Oliver’s too-hot, too-thick jumper.

“But?”

“I thought you might worry about,” Oliver hesitated as Percy leaned in, pressing a kiss to his cheek, to just below his ear. “Er— worry about dinner,” he finished quickly.

“I was worried,” Percy said. He stepped forward, pushing Oliver back towards the bed. It was so tiny, but they could both fit if they lay close. “But it went well.”

“Right.” Oliver sat down hard on the bottom of the bed. Percy tugged off his jumper, and ran possessive fingers down his shoulders, down his back. “I know how important your family is to you.”

“You’re important to me too.” Percy bent down to kiss him. “I’m glad I’ve got you.”

So Oliver, of course, pulled him down onto the bed with him and unbuttoned his stupid starched shirt and lay as close as he could. Percy took off his glasses, slipping them up onto the nightstand. He kissed Oliver again, and again, till they were both pink-cheeked and Oliver was smiling so hard it hurt. It was silly, kissing like this, in the tiny bedroom with all Percy’s family sleeping nearby, but maybe that was how it was supposed to be: ridiculous. Easy.

Later, Oliver said it again, in case he’d forgotten: “It went well,” like that, quiet and whispered across the threadbare pillow with only the moon outside the window watching.

#perciver #starry writes #harry potter #perciver fic #percy weasley x oliver wood

[aphrodite-would-be-proud]

🕯Anon said: hi sweetheart 🕊 can you write about armin having a quiet night with the reader? something like wearing comfy pajamas, fairy lights, cute little candles, incense, soft songs and maybe some reading? and they just cuddling? 🥺 i think about that whenever i go to sleep and do all of the above, but i'm just by myself lmao anyways, thank you so much 🌸 (btw i'm the anon who asked you about the armin x painter!reader 🥺 hello 🥺 i just love how you write can we be friends please) 🕯

Quiet night with Armin

{ Armin x Reader | tw:none | sleep help, comfort, fluff | modern }

{ "Twilight, Valley of the Genesee" 1865 by Samuel Colman 1832 - 1920 }

Shimmering golden hues weaved across pastel blue walls in the form of strings, crossing the bookshelf before making a turn at the plants corner, illuminating the room with a soft warm glow.

Your head rested against the satin pillow, just right above Armin's shoulder, close enough that you can see the rise and fall of his chest with every breath. The ends of his hair ghosting over your cheek whenever he leaned to tell a particular clever line of the book he's been reading to you.

You can't exactly remember the name of it, but you can clearly recall his excited smile this morning when showing it to you.

"It's one of my favourites" he said, "the last time i got to reread it was in high-school, has it really been that long?" And that's all you can remember from the conversation before it got sidetracked by him asking if you had lunch yet.

There's definitely something to be said about rereading a book over and over again, a sense of familiarity, an attachment to the characters, plot and world setting. It's almost magic how quickly your comfort book, show or movie can turn a horrible day into a nice one, making it the silver lining.

Looking at the way Armin would pause for a second after some lines, or chuckle at random scenes, like it's an inside joke between him and his mind, you can tell he's definitely recalling some good memories.

Just like how he's adding to his list of comfort memories by sharing this experience with you, he wants you to be a part of this silly book he once picked up as a child and continued to revisit every few years.

You glance at the remaining pages, just as he flips another one to start anew. You've already finished a third of the book, only a quarter remaining.

It's not that you're getting impatient, but it's more that the soft blanket draped over you, the warmth of Armin's body pressed next to yours and the sound of his voice, are all luring you into a hazy cloudy state where your eyelids feel too heavy and turning your head to check the clock seems too exhausting.

How long has it been? since you curled up against him right after you went to put your empty hot chocolate mugs in the sink.

You don't have the heart to tell him that your brain stopped registering the words he's saying and instead listens to the tone of his soft-spoken voice and reacts accordingly. Stealing another glance at the remaining pages, you notice a few missing, okay good, just a few more. You can hold on right?

Right?

Forcing your eyes open, you suppress a yawn threatening to rise before curling even closer to his shoulder, face against his neck, hand over his chest.

Instead of focusing on his calming heartbeat, you try to focus your attention on different things, like the smell of snowdrops flowers filling the room from the scented incense sitting on the nightstand. 

Snowdrops, the milky bell-like flowers who befriended the cold harsh snow herself.

An ancient German tale that Armin told you, on one early spring morning. When the universe was just in bloom, as the earth shaped its form and the plants dressed themselves, when the god in the heavens above just created snow, she was told to go seek her colours from the flowers below.

She came with her request, but the flowers turned their heads, refusing to acknowledge her for she is the reason for the harsh weather, deeming their life spans short, overzealous and jealous, protecting their colours from the merciless lady snow. 

She was left all alone, friendliness, colourless with no love or sympathy from a soul.

Except for one, came knocking on her door, head bowed down and humbly offered to share. Snowdrops were the flowers that warmed the snow's heart, and so white was the colour in which snow was known.

Snow made a vow, to always protect her one and only friend, even from her own self. Under her watchful gaze, snowdrops were gifted with warmth that let them be the first flowers to bloom when winter bid her goodbyes as spring was arriving soon.

You've never seen snowdrops the same since, their delicate and shy nature standing out between all the proud flowers, you even suggested planting some to Armin.

"...but sweetheart" you remember him saying with a frown, " snowdrops are poisonous."

…

Yeah, and so getting their scented incense was the second best option available.

You hear the sound of another page being turned, fewer left to go, just hold on a bit longer.

Wondering the room with your eyes, your gaze fell on the straw sunhat hanging from the on the back of a chair. It's Armin's favourite, he'd always wear it when the sun was particularly bright that day.

you remember him saying it was a gift from his grandpa when he was a child.

His grandpa...didn't you visit his farm a few months ago?

...yeah you did, you can recall clearly, how you were:

Squinting your eyes to avoid the bright sun, you wiped the sweat collecting on your forehead before leaning your head back against the wooden wall. The occasional passing cool breeze distracting you from the dryness in your throat, even after moving to sit in the shade your skin still felt too hot.

The grassy fields in front stretched wide before ending in white pained fences, where the crops patches for vegetables started.

The sudden gentle waves of cool air against your skin made you glance to the side, where Armin was fanning you with his hat, while holding a tray with two ice filled lemonades in his other hand.

"Are you sure you don't want to go inside?" He said, sitting next to you before handing you the cold drink, "you've already done a lot, I'll do take care of the rest."

You've been helping Armin with the farm work since sunrise, feeding the animals together and watering the crops, saying you're exhausted from the scorching hot sun was an underestimation.

And yet, somehow Armin seems unaffected. Not a sign of being bothered as he sat there next to you with his rolled up sleeves and cuffed pants, the slight flushing to his face was the only thing he got from the sun.

"Yeah, I need to lay down a bit." You remember saying, after emptying your drink in one go.

"If that's the case then-" setting the tray aside, Armin patted his lap while looking at you, "Come here."

Too tired to protest, you layed your head on his thigh, feeling your back stretching and the cool air from his fanning was already making you feel better.

"You know, there's a story my grandpa used to tell me about the sun."

An Australian folklore, about a time when the earth was merged in absolute Darkness, when even the stars refused to light up the sky.

Eternal darkness was the fate of humanity, as people were spent their lives carrying torches to light up their way.

Gnowee was an alone mother in a forsaken world, left to fend for her little son. Each day while he slept safely, she'd venture into the the fields in search for plants or seeds. Knowing very well that's it's a matter of life and death if she couldn't come back with something edible.

Each day she'd come with whatever she could find, feeding it to her son even if it meant sleeping on an empty stomach.

But with food scarce and the abyss looming at every corner, things were harder each day.

One day after rocking her child to sleep, she quietly left with her torch to dig for yams she saw on her way last time. Retracting her footsteps, it was a long journey but she knew it'd be worth it.

And so she walked and walked till she reached the place, began digging the ground but dirt and mud was all that she could find. But she couldn't just go back to her son empty handed, and so she wandered far.

She wandered so far in fact that she reached the end, not the end of her journey but the end of the earth itself.

Somehow, in someway she managed to pass from under it, her will for her son to live another day far greater that anything, and so she emerged from the other side.

The void.

Where nothingness lived.

Looking at the vast empty space, she didn't know where she was, the line between the ground and walls was so blurred that she thought she's floating.

Panic and dread filled her mind as she raised her torch higher and higher, attempting to clear a path for her to see. For she had to go back to her son, all alone sleeping by himself.

Climbing the sky was her only solution, as she wondered the world, unknowingly lighting up a path with her as she went.

"And so the Sun Goddess wonders the sky above, in search for her son." Armin told you that day, before offering you his own lemonade to drink because he was still worried about you.

...

You can't recall how that day ended, you think you might have fell asleep on his lap right after.

The fairylights on the wall reminded you of the clear stars sky you've seen while on the farm, his grandfather was a really sweet guy too.

With your mind still coulded in drowsiness, your hearing was also delayed apparently, since you just noticed the book in Armin's hold was closed with him staring at you with a smile instead.

Moving so he could set the book on the nightstand, Armin turned towards you before pulling you closer to him, making sure the covers don't slip off of you. He cupped your face, stroking your cheek with love in his eyes.

"I'm sorry baby, did I take too long?" He said, glancing at the clock behind you answered his question. 

You shook your head, murmuring a slurred "it's alright." 

Posture visibly relaxing, he gave your cheek a small kiss before resting too on the pillow next to you, a yawn escaping him.

With half closed eyes, you saw him cuddling close to your chest, features softening as he bid you goodnight. Your hand moved to stroke his hair just like he always liked, lacing your fingers through the soft strands you closed your eyes too. 

Warmth took over you, the feeling of his soft breath near your neck, the comfortable weight of his arms around you, the slow ticking of the clock, it all rocked you to sleep as you happily gave in.

#Armin🕯 #sleep help🕯 #comfort🕯 #fluff🕯 #modern aot🕯 #armin alert #Armin x reader #armin arlet x reader #armin x y/n #armin x you #armin aot #aot #snk #aot x reader #aot x y/n #fluff #sleep help #comfy cosy #attack on titan #aot fanfiction

[the-alice-of-hearts]

Kids Again Ch 3

<previous< first >Next>

Ch 3: ‘Cause sugar, no, she don't got time for that

Jason loved being Robin, but only a little more than he hated it.

The freedom, the ability to help people, having a brother to look up to and bond with...

But that all came hand in hand with the pressure to be good enough, knowing that no matter how many people he helped there were still children dying on these streets, training day in and out to try to prove to Bruce that he could live up to Dick’s legacy.

So he kept fighting

Kept running

Kept trying

Kept running out of time

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason trained and fought, and he ran. Always running, always half a step ahead of the bad guys, but two steps behind Dick. He couldn’t measure up. Never with the Boy Wonder.

So he got reckless. Went headfirst into situations, stopped trying to think 12 steps ahead. A person would talk just as fast if he broke a few bones, and if he could get that information faster then maybe he could save someone.

He tried to ignore the worry in Alfred’s eyes when he came in needing stitches for the fourth time that week. Avoided Dick’s questions on how he got his information to head off an arms deal. Hid his pain from Bruce when he checked in on him during debriefs.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Jason threw his mask in the corner. He had just finished briefing Bruce on his night. Having waited for him to finally leave the cave, he limped over to the med bay. He heard the door to the house open again, assuming it was Alfred coming down he continued to dress his wounds.

“I didn’t understand what Alfred meant when he told me to make sure you hadn’t pulled your stitches. I guess I do now.”

Jason jerked up from the table, “Shit!” he grabbed his side where he had, indeed, torn his stitches.

“Jason, what happened?” Bruce came closer picking up the stitch kit. “When did you get this?” he sat down on the stool in front of him. Pulling Jason’s hand away to see the wound.

Jason grimaced when Bruce started to snip the broken stitches. Keeping silent except for a  couple of moments of major pain.

Bruce continued to clean out the wound and get ready to stitch it up again, “I’ll just keep asking, what happened? When did you get this?”

Jason kept his head down, watching Bruce’s hands while he stitched him up. The slight pull at his skin when the needle went through was welcome as he could feign being in pain to avoid talking.

“Jason, I know you gave yourself a local. I’m not stupid and you’re not that slick.” He finished the stitches and glared down at him, “Now Talk.”

Jason took a deep breath as Bruce started to put antibiotic cream on the wound and a new sterile dressing, “What’s there to say, Bruce?” Jason jumped off the table the moment Bruce was done wrapping the wound, “I ran in head first like I always do? Let my emotions get the best of me? Didn’t think anything through and almost got myself killed?” He was finally letting it all out, “What answer are you looking for? What answer would prove to you that I didn’t cause this? I took a hit because I could take it, the little girl it was meant for couldn’t.” Jason shoved past Bruce to walk up the stairs to the manor, looking back for a second he added on, “This isn’t my fault. Maybe when you send your child soldiers out you should give them better protection.”

When he got to his room he flopped into bed and screamed into the pillow. Something that he had picked up from Marinette, did actually help him to feel better. He grabbed the red notebook and started writing. Telling her about what happened, writing it out really helped. When he finished he grabbed a book from his nightstand and started to lose himself in the pages.

A knock startled him. He wasn’t sure how long it had been but he still wasn’t ready to talk to anyone.

“Jason, I know you’re not asleep. You don’t have to come out, but you do have to listen. I was wrong to put this on you.” Jason looked up with a little hope when Bruce said that, only for it to be crushed by his next words. “Letting you be Robin was too much. You weren’t ready, I see that now. I’m benching you. You need to take time to figure yourself out before coming back out there. Just, talk to me about it tomorrow okay?”

Bruce wasn’t even at the end of the hall by the time Jason had grabbed his emergency backpack. It had his extra suit in it, food for a few weeks, and all the cash he had stashed away. He knew that this would happen one day, but he was prepared. He would figure it all out for himself, maybe take Dick up on his offer to stay with him. He looked around and grabbed a novel from his shelf tucking it into the bag next to the extra pens he kept there. He made sure his notebook was in his pocket and then he opened the window. His room was on the third story, but he had made worse climbs before.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Dick was woken up by a loud knock at his door. He rubbed his eyes and made sure none of his gear was in eyeshot before opening the door to see who was out there. “Jay-bird?”

Jason smiled as he let him into the apartment, “Good to see you, Dick. I’m not staying long, I just need you to hold onto this for me.”

Dick looked at him confused, “wait, what do you mean? Where are you going?”

Jason shrugged a little, “I’m not entirely sure. I’m looking for someone. Once I find her I’ll be back.” Jason stood by the table putting a letter into an envelope. He was in the middle of sealing the envelope when Dick grabbed his shoulder.

“What’s going on, Little Wing? You can tell me.” Dick was pleading with him, “I thought you were waiting to go find Marinette?”

“I’m not looking for her, yet. But since I don’t know when I’ll be back I need you to hold onto this for me. If she makes it to Gotham before me, give her this. Tell her I’m still coming for her.”

Before Dick could stop him Jason was out the door. He looked at the letter in his hands, he had written For my Soulmate; Marinette on the front of it. ‘I guess I’ll look after this for you Jay. Be safe.’ He picked up his phone to call Bruce. They had both been out all week looking for Jason, at least now they knew he was alive. ‘For now’ a stray thought chimed in.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

So maybe going on this mission alone was, indeed, a rash decision. Jason laughed at the irony of it all. Trying to prove he wasn’t reckless was what got him into this.

“Oh? Is the birdy finally seeing the humor in this?” Joker laughed in Jason’s face. He had just finished turning on a camera and now he was holding the crowbar over him again. Swinging quickly he opened a long gash across Jason’s chest.

Screaming in pain Jason could only think one thing, ‘please let me pass out, please let me pass out, she doesn’t deserve to see this, please whatever deity might be listening let me pass out!’

He didn’t pass out. He wouldn’t know it until many years later, but Joker had pumped enough adrenaline into his system to keep him awake until the blood loss would make him pass out. When he finally did it was like a relief honestly. Until the sound of voices in his head woke him up.

‘Jaybird! Please tell me you’re there! Little wing I’m trying to get there faster, but you have to wake up. There’s a bomb, you have to get up. Jay, you have to get up now! You have to go to the door.’

‘Jason, please! Please wake up. We need you, we need you to wake up. I need you!’

‘You don’t know me, but please live for us. We all need to meet you one day.’

‘Jason you have to get to the door.’

‘Jay, wake up!’

With all the yelling in his head, Jay was finally able to wake up and drag himself toward the door on the other side of the building. The timer on the bomb was running out. He reached up to grab the handle but found it was locked. He started to cry, seeing his end right in front of him. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry I never got to love you Marinette.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The bomb went off, Dick knew the second it happened. For the final moments of Jason’s life, it was like the soulbond was wide open. All four of them were connected in a way that he had never even heard of happening. When the bomb went off it was like having a piece of himself torn away from him. He collapsed to the ground in the plane, Bruce watching him fall to pieces. They had failed him. His soulmate was dead. His little brother was dead. He could feel the pain of his Soulmate, but that didn’t compare to the heart-wrenching grief that was overtaking their final puzzle piece. He could feel her soul shattered into tiny pieces.

Bruce landed by the warehouse that Dick knew Jason was in. Of all the ways to find out who one of your platonic soulmates was, this was the worst. They recovered his body, carefully loading him into the plane. Dick found his notebook and put it in a pocket next to his own. He knew that Jason hadn’t shown anyone but him what was in there, and he wasn’t going to betray his brother’s trust. Then he held him, held the body of his little brother. The boy who tried to live up to unrealistic expectations, the kid who beat him at video games and then flipped into a wall the same night. Dick vowed to one day find Jason’s Soulmate. He needed to tell her about Jason, about how brave he was, about how he helped kids and read old poetry. He wanted to tell her all the good things because he knew she already knew the bad ones. He needed to wrap her into his arms and tell her all the good parts.

None of them in the bond would ever truly heal, but it would be better to try to pick up the pieces together than apart.

He had kept Jason’s notebook on his bookshelf in his apartment, right next to the books Jason had forgotten in his apartment each time he visited. Only a few months later, Dick was getting ready to travel to Paris, to find the remaining parts of his soulbond, when he got the news. Alfred called to tell him, there was an official travel ban on Paris. No heroes, vigilante or not, allowed into the city. Diana was enforcing it, so it would be difficult if not impossible to get past her.

#maribat #jasonette #Kids again fic

[musicalgeek24601]

Childhood

  @aliypop​

  Steve sat his bed tucked under the covers with his face red and his body sweating. He had a stack of homework on his bed stand, that he hadn’t done yet and a bookshelf full of mystery novels to keep him busy. He was a small and skinny child with blonde hair and big blue eyes. He was dressed in cowboy PJs and clung to a stuffed Mickey Mouse doll. He was six years old.

            His mother, Sarah, entered the room with a tray holding a bowl of cereal, some orange juice and a medicine bottle.

               “how you are feeling?” Sarah asked him, her voice filled with concern. Her blonde hair was put back with a pink headband. She wore a plain pink house dress and no make up. despite that she had a natural beauty that only few posses. Her skin flawless and her big brown eyes would drive any man wild.

“I`m fine, mom, a lot better. Like a hundred times better!” Steve told her. He pulled the covers off of himself and stumbled out of bed. “I`m not sick anymore, I want to go back to school and you should go back to work.”

             His mother wasnt convinced and shook her head vigorously.

             “You’re staying home, last time I checked you had a very high fever.” Sarah replied.  “If you go to school, you’re going to get all the other kids sick. So get back in bed.”

Steve coughed hard, a loud hackling kind of cough.

            “I’m fine now, I promise.” Steve whined, he coughed again. “I should go to school and you should go to work. I`ll be fine.”

Sarah placed the tray onto the floor. She picked up his son and placed him back on the bed. Her son pouted, and looked at his mother with distaste, as Sarah placed the covers over Steve`s body. Steve started coughing again and when he stopped his mother sat next to him. She put her hand over her son’s forehead.

               “Your burning up, bud.” She told him. She picked up the food tray and placed it onto the nightstand. She then opened the bottle of medicine and began to poor the liquid onto a spoon.

                 “I`m tired of being in the house all the time! I want to play with my friends, i want to go to school. This is the 12th time sick day this month!””

                 “Its just how you are, you were born with a weaker immune system.”

             “what does that mean?” Steve asked, coughing again. He looked at his mother with a puzzled look.

               “it means your body can’t fight off all the germs and sickness`s as easily as other bodies can.” Sarah answered. She held the spoon out to her son. “open up.”

              Steve pouted but did as he was told. Sarah feed him the medication and then handed him the juice from the tray.

                 “Momma, Leave me here by myself. i`ll be good, i`ll take care of myself okay? I dont want you to miss more work because of me. Daddy will get mad at you if you miss work.”

She laughed and shook her head.

          “Honey, you cant take of yourself, your six. I `ll be staying here with you, until your father gets home.”

         “but daddy sometimes doesnt come home til really late and he gets mad at you if you cant give him enough money for bills...and when he gets mad then he`ll-”

Sarah stroked her son`s head.

        “Calm down, Stevie. I dont want you to worry about me, honey. I can handle your father, just worry about getting better. Leave adult issues like money to the adults, honey. ” Sarah spoke as she kissed the top of his head. “Your always such a thoughtful boy, always worrying about others. You just worry about yourself. Plus I can always take on a few more night shifts at the hospital if i need to.”

She suddenly heard the doorbell ring. She rushed downstairs hoping it was her husband, coming relive her of sick duty. Instead she saw her son`s three friends at the door. When Steve went to school, he would walk together with his two best friends. She sighed, she did not want to have to deal kids who often wouldnt take no for an answer. “I`m sorry kids, Steve is sick today. He cant go to school today and he cant play later.”

#Steve Rogers #family #great depression #childhood

[rrenzwrld]

WARNING! SUGESSTIVE CONTENT!

“ 𝐂𝐀𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄? ”

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒 𝐌𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐄.

"Can I leave my stuff out here?" I gestured to the huge dining area we were about to leave from. He nodded before turning away from me and leading me to his room. I had only been to his room a few times with the rest of our friends, but only probably about twice by myself. I was used to seeing the excessive amount of organization his room displayed so this only added to his character and one more thing I grew to love about him. I realized I started to love more things about him everyday but could he say the same about me? I didn't know the answer to that yet. And hopefully, I'd find out today.

I made myself comfortable on his bed by plopping myself down and grabbing a pillow to hug. This was something I did whenever I got a chance to be in here because it was the closest thing to putting my arms around him. As I said, he wasn't too pleased about PDA as he was too busy scolding everyone else about theirs to be caught up in it himself. So most of the time, I was cautious about when he wanted to be touched. In 2 months, the closest we got to touching or anything like that was handholding. It was still romantic but after a while, you get tired of it if that's the only thing you're doing when being in a relationship.

I watched as he looked for a book to grab off his bookshelf. I sighed in frustration.

"What's wrong?" He asked me with his eyes still scanning his bookshelf. I guessed he heard me. Finally.

"You're my boyfriend, right?" My grip on the pillow tightened.

"I am." Eyes still not on me. "Is there a problem?"

"I.. I just don't feel like it..." I mumbled, looking down. I've been meaning to share my thoughts with him the entire time and now I had the opportunity, I buckled down. Maybe I wasn't as confident as I thought.

He walked over to me and got on the bed and sat in front of me with his legs crossed in front of him. I turned to him and did the same with the pillow still in my arms.

"You don't feel like we're dating?" He revisited the topic.

"No..." I said timidly. He pushed his glasses back up onto the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry," All I wanted him to do was acknowledge it, I didn't want him to feel bad about it. "Excuse me as I haven't been in a relationship prior to this..." I don't see how, he's the sweetest thing... minus the small attitudes sometimes. Unlike him, I've been in relationships before and none of them were like the others. I've had different experiences in all of them.

I reached out to touch his hand. "It's okay. Don't be sorry." He holds my hand and entangles his fingers in mine.

"I feel like a terrible boyfriend. Your needs are just as important as mine, if not more. Forgive me." It hurt me to see that he feels this way but through out the whole relationship so far, it was hard to get an idea on how he felt towards me at times.

I scooted closer to him and reached up to caress his cheek. There was a comfortable silence between us before he spoke.

"Y/n?"

"Hm?"

"I...love you." I froze in place. I haven't gotten a chance to hear those words yet but today seemed like my lucky day. My face got hot at his words.

"I-I love you too.." And his face got hot at mine. I felt this weird energy between the two of us that began to draw us closer together. And apparently, I wasn't the only one who felt it. Iida raised his hand up to my cheek that was burning hot by now and moved it to the back of my neck, bringing my face closer to his. I slowly closed my eyes as I leaned closer, anticipating what was about to happen. I finally met the softness of his lips with mine and no words could describe this moment. I've been waiting 2 months for this. Longing for something from him. A kiss, a hug, something. And I was finally getting what I wanted.

After a few seconds, we slowly pulled away from each other. The taste of his lips lingered and I wanted more. I wanted him to kiss me more.

He instantly became more flustered than he was before, flapping his arms everywhere, something he always did. "I-I'm sorry for violating you, Y/n! I just wanted to tr-" I shut him up by slamming my lips back onto his and crawling into his lap. He accepted the kiss and his hands hovered above my hips, not knowing where to put them. I pulled away to look him in the eyes. He looked up at me with a look of infatuation in his eyes. His eyes scanned the entirety of my face, finally landing on my lips. This time, I didn't want him to let me know anything. We didn't have to talk right now.

I carefully slid his glasses off his face so they wouldn't get broken in all this (we're gonna pretend for the sake of this. you can bash me later) I waved my hand in front of his face.

"Can you see me?" I giggled.

"Yes, but not well. Doesn't matter anyhow..." I reached behind me to place his glasses on the nightstand at his bedside. Our lips meet each other once again but with more passion behind them this time. I'm sure this was his first kiss but he was doing so well. I was fairly surprised. Without breaking us apart, I grazed the tips of my fingers along his arm and gently grabbed his hands, placing them on my hips. His lips were so addicting with me getting to know them for the first time. I haven't been this happy in years.

As the kiss deepened, we started to care less about anything that didn't have to do with each other. He no longer upheld the 'smart nerd' image while he was with me and I loved it. Right now, he let everything go and I enjoyed that for him. He tightened his loose grip around my waist, pulling me closer into him. He was kissing me like I wanted to be kissed. All of the feelings we zoomed over were finally coming back to us all at one time in this moment. In this moment, we shared one breath, one sensation, one timeless and passionate moment. The heat rose in our cheeks as our tongues learned to dance seamlessly with one another with quick, electric, and delicious movements.

I pulled my shirt over my head from the hem and threw it to the side, and did the same with his as well. We didn't stay away from each other long before our lips met again. His brawny, muscular figure only added to the experience and if this all was a dream, don't you dare wake me up.

We were stopped by noises downstairs, which we assumed were his parents coming home.

He quickly detached himself from me, beginning to dress himself again. I pouted slightly. I hated that it had to end. I missed the feeling of his lips on mine. I did like the fact that the redness in his face was still evident.

"Get yourself dressed, Y/n. We don't want anything happening." I grabbed the pillow and put it in my lap.

"Something already happened." I smiled. I was still giddy from the events and I believed I'd be giddy for a long time after this. I put my shirt back on and fixed myself back up.

"When did you become such a good kisser?" I didn't think he could get any redder.

"I don't know the answer to that myself." And he wasn't lying. He seemed genuinely confused. I didn't care, it's cute. He began to walk over to open the door.

"Will this be the last time?"

"Certainly not." I sighed in relief. I stood from my spot and walked over to him. He wrapped his hands around my waist, pulling me close. He was becoming more comfortable with touching me and I liked that. Maybe now we'd start acting like a real couple. I reached on my tippy toes to whisper in his ear.

"You should kiss me more."

#writing #oneshot #oneshots #fanfic #fanfiction #anime #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #tenya x y/n #tenya iida #tenya iida imagine #bnha tenya #bnha #mha tenya #Spotify

[youngbloodlisk]

Worth It // Kim Sunwoo Model AU

Chapter 1

chapter genre: angst, fluff

(note: sunwoo does not appear in the series yet)

Emotionless, numb, and yet full of every feeling possible.

That's what packing up my stuff feels like.

That's what leaving what has been my home since age 15 feels like.

That's what being unsure of my future and career feels like.

I carefully place a designer shirt, a pink one from a shoot last year which they allowed me to keep, into the hanging clothing bag.

I zip up the bag and push it against the others.

Okay, that takes care of the clothes.

I turn away from the closet, looking around my room.

Photos litter the walls, some in frames, some stuck on with a piece of tape, and some held up with a thumbtack.

While I have a few of my magazine issues in the boxes by the door, previously displayed on my bookshelf, none of these photos are professional.

These are Polaroids, photo booths, and cell phone photos. The likes of those.

These don't document my career, they document my life. My friends, my adventures, my travels (although, those trips are credited to my job).

I feel as though I could cry again, but I've cried so much in the past week. I think I'm out of tears now.

"You want some help? That's a lot of photos to take with you." My best friend's voice comes from the doorway.

"I wanna leave them... I don't wanna have to take them anywhere. I don't wanna go anywhere."

Juyeon enters my room and wraps his arms around me from behind, going just slightly on his toes to rest his chin on my head.

"I know you don't. Neither do I. But it'll be okay."

"You don't know that."

"Sure, I do. You'll find a new company faster than you can blink. Have you checked your business email? You may have some offers already. The news is already out that Imaginary Parties is bankrupt, I'm sure other agencies are itching to snag you up."

"That's a nice thought, Ju... But I wanna stay here. This very room. I've lived here for 6 years. I've worked with the same people for 6 years. It's not easy to leave it all."

Juyeon puts his feet flat on the ground and moves his head so it's resting against mine, his lips next to my ear.

"I know." He whispers sweetly.

We stay silent and frozen in our position, besides some swaying back and forth.

He knows all I need is comfort right now.

He always knows what I need, and what I don't need. That's why he's my best friend.

He joined Imaginary Parties Modeling Agency when I was 18 and he was 20. We immediately clicked.

He's been my best friend, my second half, for almost 3 years, and that's part of what scares me the most about Imaginary Parties coming to an end.

I'll probably barely, if ever, see Juyeon.

When I join another agency, and he joins another agency, and our schedules mix about as well as oil and water...

I may only see him on magazine covers and advertisements.

I don't know what I'll do without Lee Juyeon by my side.

"You'll be okay." It's only when he responds that I realize I had mumbled my last thought out loud. "We'll be okay. Who knows, maybe we'll end up at the same place?"

"Not likely."

"With as many shoots as we've done together, it's probably more likely than you think! Hey..." He lets go of me and turns me around to look into his deep, genuine, caring eyes. "Everything is gonna be okay. You have me here?" He points to my heart, and I roll my eyes at his cheesiness.

"Yes, Ju."

"And I have you here." He places his hand on his own heart. "No matter what happens, we have each other. Right?"

"Ju, what if-"

"Right?"

I feel a tear escape my eye, and Juyeon carefully wipes it away with his thumb.

"Right."

He pulls me into a tight hug.

I know he's trying to tell me he loves me.

-----------

Juyeon holds my hand and walks with me to my car.

We just finished packing our stuff into our cars, mine first and then his.

I can feel something start to bubble up in me again. Juyeon senses my mood change.

"You better text me when you get home. I'll do the same. And I keep telling you to check your email! We should compare our offers. Maybe someone reached out to both of us and we'll be back together in an agency a lot faster than you're thinking. And even if we aren't, you know I'm gonna text you constantly. I'll annoy you to death and you'll love it."

I can't help but chuckle.

"You always know what to say, don't you?"

"Only with you." He opens my car door for me before giving me one last hug.

"Have fun in Gwangju. Be safe traveling."

He's about to travel back to his family to visit while he works out a new agency, leaving me in Seoul without him for at least three weeks.

"I will. Again, text me when you get home! I need to know you made it safe."

"I know, I know. I will. I'll see you sometime, Ju."

"I'll see you as soon as possible." He kisses my forehead.

Again, I know that's another way he tells me he loves me without actually saying it.

He let's go of my hand and begins to walk away, heading toward his own car packed full of stuff.

I sigh and repress my tears before getting in my car and driving away from Imaginary Parties for the last time, never to return.

-----------

My phone wakes me up in the middle of the night. I blink my eyes to try to focus on the name on my screen

Lee Juyeon

"Waking me up? He better be alone and stuck in a ditch..."

I swipe across the screen and press the speaker button, far too tired to hold a phone up to my ear right now.

"Ju, it's 3am. Are you okay?"

"I should be asking you that! You never text me or called me that you got home safe! At first, I assumed it was just because of service, but nothing ever came through! You did make it home okay, right?"

His extreme concern is both annoying and endearing.

"Yes, Ju. I'm home, in my room, in my bed, previously asleep. And you made it okay?" I rub my face, trying to actually listen and comprehend his answer.

"Yeah, I just got here. Travel wasn't as fast and smooth as anticipated, but I made it."

"That's great. I miss you already, Ju. Can I please sleep now and tell you more about how much I miss you tomorrow?"

"You better. Don't forget this time!" The phone beeps, telling me that he did me the favor of hanging up.

I don't even bother to put my phone back on the nightstand. My hand goes limp as I rapidly fall into sleep and the phone slips out of my grip, without me noticing or caring.

-----------

"What did I tell you? I told you! I told you like... at least twenty times. I knew it! I-"

"Ok, ok, Juyeon, I get it. You were right."

"Can you say that again and let me turn on my laptop screen record this time?"

"Absolutely not."

"Are you gonna accept it?"

"Are you?"

"If you are."

"Well, I'm only going to accept if Juyeon accepts."

"I accept!"

"Then... so do I..."

It begins to set in.

The same agency reached out to both me and Juyeon, Worth It Modeling.

Home to some of the biggest models in the business, and they want us.

Both of us.

We're gonna work together again.

We're gonna live together again.

"Can you believe that we're gonna work with the likes of Ju Haknyeon and Ji Changmin? And Lee Sangyeon? And Choi Chanhee!" Juyeon starts to fanboy over his favorite models.

When I say favorites, I mean he collects all their issues. And displays them better than he displays his own.

"Aw, little Juyeon finally gets to show off his shrine!"

"It is NOT a shrine! And I'll probably keep them in the closet if I'm working with these guys... it's a little weird to have my own co-workers' magazines on stands on a bookshelf..."

I laugh with him, feeling my worries and sadness begin to lift off my shoulders.

Sure, I'm gonna miss Imaginary Parties a lot, but at least I get to work with Juyeon. Not to mention, I'll also be working with some of the best models in Korea being at Worth It.

Maybe everything will be okay.

-----------

"What about the bookshelf stuff?" I pick up a heavy box and drop it carefully onto the bed.

Juyeon purses his lips and opens the box to look at exactly what's inside.

"It can probably all go up on the new bookshelf. But leave the magazine stands in the box, just store the magazines like normal."

I chuckle slightly, remembering the reason he wants me to exclude the stands from the new bookshelf set-up.

Juyeon goes back to organizing his clothes into his closet, and I grab a stack of books from the box to start on the bookshelf.

As I'm sliding books onto the shelf side-by-side, I hear someone enter the room and immediately Juyeon drops something on his foot and cries out in pain.

My attention is drawn to him, but it appears he's okay. Once I see who had walked into the room, I'm no longer confused by the sudden clumsiness.

I have to keep myself from laughing as Juyeon tries to avoid staring at Choi Chanhee, who is going through the other closet to find a jacket.

The irony is anything but lost on me that Juyeon happens to be roomies with his favorite model.

The moment Chanhee leaves the room, Juyeon looks at me with the most shocked expression I've seen on his face in my entire life.

"That's gotta be a joke."

"Good luck, Ju. You're gonna need it."

"Trade with me."

"You realize the name next to my name on my door belongs to a girl?"

"You realize I don't care?"

"No, Juyeon. You just need to learn to not cry every time you see his face."

"I never cry!" Juyeon protests my accusations, knowing I'm right.

"Last year's December issue of NewShot said otherwise."

He rolls his eyes.

"Whatever..."

We both get back to work, when suddenly the silence is broken after about five minutes.

"They put him in a long skirt with red eyeshadow and they painted his nails green, what was I supposed to do? Not cry?"

#ciiikbwork #tbz au #the boyz au #the boyz angst #tbz angst #the boyz fluff #tbz fluff #sunwoo au #sunwoo angst #sunwoo fluff