#i’m gonna itch to delete this when i wake up but | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

javier-pena · 3 years

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Astrid hello!! I've heard tell that you want people to talk to you about Javi G and uh ... I just can't get the image of him driving the two of you somewhere and having to pull over to fuck you in the car because he's so worked up out of my headdd 😌 (feel free to delete if you don't want to/can't answer!! I totally understand!)

- @javisjeanjacket

Hi! Okay, anyway, writing this nearly was the end of me, but I hope it's what you were looking for!

Pairing: Javi Gutierrez x f!reader

Word Count: 1.4k

Rating: it's so explicit that I'm thinking about getting a new identity actually

Summary: the ask says it all, but car s*x

Notes: "i am simply ready to lose my mind. you warned me about this but was i prepared? no." - Dani @javierpcna

***

The leather of the backseat scrapes uncomfortably against your knees, you feel your skin stick to the warm surface. Sweat is forming on your brow, your arms, your legs. Everything is hot and sticky and heavy. Your pants fog up the window in front of you, and the landscape behind it appears murky, despite the late afternoon sun, despite the light dancing over the glistening waves below. If you raise your head slightly, you can even see the next bend in the road.

But you don’t lift your head – you can’t. You press your forehead against the glass, your nails scraping against the rough, leathery surface of the door, while you’re being pushed forward over and over again by precise, well-timed thrusts, by three fingers focused on one spot, three fingers that are your entire world.

I just wanna show you the view.

Javi wasn’t lying when he said that, when he pulled the car over. You are looking at the view, but you aren’t seeing it, not really, not in a way you were meant to be seeing it. Because the minute he stopped the car, his hands were all over you, under your skirt, on your chest – squeezing, holding, teasing. You couldn’t blame him because you had been feeling much the same, had felt an ever-growing itch during his week-long absence, one phone calls and expensive toys hadn’t been able to scratch. And when he had suggested taking you out to dinner after getting back from the airport, you’d been slightly disappointed. Yes, you enjoy the build-up, the tension, the teasing, but tonight you need it hard and fast and dirty.

You hadn’t made it to the restaurant.

Javi was impatient in the car, his bottom lip caught between his teeth, his foot like lead on the gas pedal. The second your hand found his thigh, the muscles tense like steel, he pulled over.

I just wanna show you the view.

The words were slightly slurred, and the next thing you heard was a ripping sound when he tore your panties, tore them right off you, like impatiently unwrapping a gift. He found you hot and wet and wanting, he all but lifted you onto the backseat and here you are now, your skirt pushed up, your backside exposed, your slick dripping down your thighs.

“Baby,” you moan after a particularly rough thrust. You bite your lip when he does it again. “Fuck!” It’s breathless, it’s quiet, it barely scratches the surface of how good he makes you feel.

His other hand lands on the soft flesh of your backside with a crack and you gasp, your forehead knocking against the glass. Your legs tremble as you push yourself back towards him.

“Again,” you groan. “Do it again.”

He does, and the pain turns into searing hot pleasure so intense that when he thrusts his fingers into you next, you come all over them, coating them with your slick, with wet, hot release, trembling, spilling, screaming his name. Through the haze you hear a new sound, you hear how he pulls down his zipper, you even hear his hand pushing aside the fabric of his expensive dress pants, the dark green ones, the ones you love the most, followed by a sigh of relief.

You clench around his fingers at the prospect of his next move, anticipating how he will fill you up, first with his cock, then with his release, and it feels as if you didn’t just come, and maybe you haven’t because when he starts moving his fingers again, you tumble towards another edge at alarming speed.

“Need you--,” you groan through gritted teeth, “--inside, please, God, please, please, Javi, I’ve missed you so much, I’ve missed your …,” you swallow hard, “your cock, please …”

He huffs, and suddenly he’s hovering above you, his fingers on your chin, pulling so your head disconnects from the cooling support of the glass. His palm hovers in front of your face, and without hesitation you lick it, tasting leather and sweat and him. He allows you to suck two fingers into your mouth, to feel their heavy weight on your tongue before he pushes them slightly deeper, making you gag, making you feel full on both ends, before pulling them out. His hand disappears and the wet sounds that follow, mixed with his low grunts are like a heady soundtrack to your own pleasure.

You listen, and imagine his face, his hooded eyes, his reddened cheeks, his curls sticking up in odd places, and suddenly you find yourself yearning for how he looks when he’s fucked out and glowing and sated. You cannot wait to give that to him, so you try to pull yourself off his fingers to turn around, but he stops you with a harsh command.

“Stay!”

You follow his orders and listen to him fucking into his own fist, thinking about how it could be your cunt instead, and he knows you’re thinking it, too, that’s why he teases you like that, that’s why he makes you listen to his pleasure, why he keeps you on the tip of his fingers where he can feel you clench in time with his hand moving over himself.

“Did you think of me?” you ask with the last bit of strength you have left.

A grunt is all you receive as confirmation. But he does pull out his fingers and you tense because you know what’s about to happen.

His hand is so wet, covered in your slick like this that when he grabs a handful of your ass and squeezes, he leaves cooling imprints against your hot skin. He slaps you again, does it two times more – grab, slap, grab, slap. You whimper, a pitiful little sound that makes him snarl.

“Harder,” you demand.

This time, your wish remains unheard. Instead, he buries his index finger between your wet folds, then moves it up, leaving a wet trail in its wake, until he reaches a destination you both have only talked about visiting without making the actual trip. But when his wet digit probes it carefully, you want it, want him so much it makes you light-headed, makes you feel fuzzy and high.

His deep voice cuts through the blanket of lust surrounding you. “You’re so tight”, the tip of his finger slips past the firm ring of muscle, “… tight little hole for me to fill.”

He holds you hooked on his finger, like a fish caught, while he continues to stroke himself frantically. You hold your breath, listening to the obscene sounds his hand is making, listening to his pants and moans, and you wish you knew where his eyes are, but you think you can guess. Then something shifts, he shifts, and he’s closer now, also deeper inside of you, while his thumb is buried between your folds again, and your entire body clenches with need.

His thumb finds your clit and it’s over, you come with a scream that echoes around the stuffy car – it might be his name, it might be a curse – but you pull his index finger deeper inside of you as your orgasm rips through you, and he gasps in surprise, deep and desperate. He tries to wait until you’re done, but you won’t stop shaking, your cunt won’t stop fluttering like a butterfly caught in a storm, so he pulls his finger out of you while you’re still coming, making you mewl at the loss.

You feel it, hot and heavy and hard, as he drags his cock through your drenched folds, up until it brushes against where you want him inside of you, but his hot release is already coating your back, your thighs, your over-sensitive center.

You both need to come back down to reality and you need to do it now before someone finds you like this. “We’re gonna be late.”

“Late for what?”

God, his voice! Hearing it after he’s just come makes your legs feel like jelly.

You swallow. “Dinner.”

“Oh, did I forget to specify what kind of dinner?” he teases.

Both of his hands hold you in place as he leans down over your back and drags his tongue over your skin covered in sweat and his own release. When your high giggle turns into a deep moan, he whispers against you.

“I have all I need right here.”

#the unbearable weight of massive talent #javi gutierrez x reader #javi gutierrez x you #javi gutierrez #pedro pascal #fanfic #pedro pascal character fanfiction #please forgive me

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fruitydiaz-archived · 3 years

Text

from the prompt - "i think you look beautiful" for @lesbiandiaz

let's not talk about how long ago you sent me this <3

Buck asked for this. Not consciously, but he did ask for this. He has no one to blame but himself, really.

He’s sitting cross-legged in Hen and Karen’s backyard, nose itching with spring allergies, with Nia, innocently oblivious, spreading sparkly eyeshadow and lipgloss all over his face in the name of beauty.

(He had walked outside and found her chasing Harry around with a lip gloss wand, demanding that someone let her make them beautiful. And Buck, well, he couldn’t resist that face, could he?)

Meanwhile, Denny, Harry, and Chris, all significantly less innocently oblivious, are weaving leaves and twigs into his curls.

May, who was supposed to be watching over them, is no help from where she’s sitting stretched out on one of the lawn chairs, fingers tapping away at her screen, looking up occasionally, snorting, and shouting out words of encouragement to the kids.

“We’re making Buck pretty!” Nia giggles and all three boys nod their heads in agreement.

“And I so appreciate this generous makeover from you, Nia,” Buck says as she takes a brush and swipes some blush down the side of his face. He’s watched enough random makeup tutorials on YouTube to know that that is not his color, but he’s not going to tell her that. “Because you are a true artist. The rest of you I’m not so sure about.”

He reaches a hand behind him and digs his fingers into Harry’s side, tickling him.

“Hey,” Harry shouts, batting his hand away and jumping back a foot. “We’re just trying to help.”

“Yeah, Buck, we’re just helping Nia out,” Denny adds on, shooting a grin at Harry.

“We’re professional hairdressers, Buck,” Christopher says, trying to keep his voice level and serious, but he can’t really keep back his laughter.

“Oh are you, really? Remind me—when did you three go to cosmetology school again?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Harry says, dropping a handful of leaves over Buck’s head. Nia chastises him as some of the leaves drop over the front of his face, and he at least has the conscience to look a little guilty about it.

“I help my dad with his haircuts sometimes,” Christopher points out. Buck smiles.

“Well someone has to. Your dad’s too cheap to get them done professionally.”

“One time he used the clippers by himself and ended up with a bald spot on the back of his head. Abuela said he wasn’t allowed to do his hair unsupervised after that.”

Buck snickers, glancing over his shoulder at Christopher.

“I bet he looked real funny like that. You take any pictures?” Christopher’s eyes light up and he nods, dropping his voice down to a whisper.

“Yeah! But they’re on Pepa’s phone. I can ask her to share them with you.”

“That’s my boy,” Buck whispers back, holding his hand out for a fist bump.

“Oh, that can’t be good,” Eddie’s voice cuts through the yard. All five heads snap up and look in his direction before Christopher utters a tiny uh oh and all the kids scramble to different parts of the yard, Denny pulling Nia along by her hand.

Buck twists around, staring at the space around him.

“What, you're all just gonna leave me here like this? Traitors,” He shouts after them. He reaches a hand up and attempts to shake out some of the leaves, wincing as his hair gets caught on several twigs.

“Kids,” Eddie starts, crossing the grass towards Buck. “Can’t trust ‘em.”

Buck grins sheepishly at him. “You’re telling me. This bunch is sneaky, too. They pull you in with their cute charm and then you can’t get free.”

Eddie reaches a hand out towards him and Buck eyes it appreciatively before grasping it and hauling himself up.

“Yeah, kids are like that,” Eddie says, a little distracted, his eyes dancing around Buck’s face and hair. He presses his lips together, valiantly holding in his laughter, and starts helping dismantle the bird’s nest the boys made of Buck’s head.

“Thanks,” Buck says quietly, eyes dropping to the ground and watching as sticks and leaves fall down onto the grass. “They really did a number on me, huh?”

Eddie laughs, brushing some debris off Buck’s shoulder. “You haven’t seen your face yet.”

Buck’s eyes shoot up to meet his and Eddie freezes before stepping back and grinning. He pulls his phone out from his back pocket and tells Buck to smile, which earns him a scowl, and snaps a picture, turning the phone around for Buck to see.

“Please delete that immediately.”

“No,” Eddie pulls his phone away before Buck can grab it, sliding it back into his pocket. “I don’t think I will.”

“Well—just so you know, your son just promised to share some pictures of that time you shaved a bald spot into the back of your head, so.”

“Hey man, I’m just helping you out.”

“Funny, that’s what the kids said when they were turning me into some kind of forest monster.”

“And what kind of father would I be if I deleted the proof of all of their hard work?”

“I hate you,” Buck frowns—which just makes Eddie want to laugh harder. He bites his lip.

“Okay, okay. I think I have some wet wipes on me.” Buck watches as Eddie slips his hands into his jacket pockets, pats his chest pocket, pats along his legs, then finally pulls a packet of wet wipes out of the back pocket of his jeans.

“You carry wet wipes with you everywhere you go or did you just set me up for this?” Eddie gives him a look.

“We’re at a kid's party, Buck. And I have a kid. These are a staple for all parents everywhere.” Eddie pulls a wipe out and studies Buck’s face, not even really sure where to begin. The longer he stares, the more pitifully Buck stares back at him. Eddie blinks and decides to start with the eyes.

He steps closer to Buck, holding his jaw lightly with his fingers and whispering for him to close his eyes. There’s a moment of prolonged eye contact before Buck finally obliges, and Eddie starts gently sweeping the wipe over his eyelid.

“Plus,” He adds quietly. “I’ve got a best friend who somehow always manages to find himself caught up in all kinds of messes.”

“Aw, you carry those around just for me, Eds?”

There’s a pause, just for a moment, and Eddie swears he can hear his heart beating. He swallows.

“Just for you.”

Neither of them says anything for a minute and Eddie concentrates on making sure Buck’s eyes are clear of all glitter and makeup. He startles a little when Buck chuckles and Eddie feels the warmth of his breath.

He braces himself for whatever Buck’s about to say and then—

“Did you not like my makeover?” Buck and Eddie glance down, surprised to see Nia staring back up at them, standing to the left of Eddie.

“Uh,” Eddie says helpfully.

When did all four kids surround them? Eddie looks back up at Buck expectantly. Buck blinks back at him.

“I did,” He licks his lips. “But we’ve got to get ready for dinner now. So Eddie was just helping me clean up. My...face.”

“Did you tell him he looked beautiful?” Nia asks, this time staring right at Eddie, who blinks back at her.

“...I’m sorry?”

“When I used to do Mama Hen’s makeup she wasn’t allowed to take it off until Mama Karen told her she looked beautiful.”

Eddie stares at her, hand still hovering in the air by Buck’s face. Christopher tugs at his shirt from his other side.

“I think she wants you to tell Buck he looks beautiful, dad.”

Eddie turns slowly to look at him. “Thank you, Christopher.”

Christopher has the nerve to laugh at him.

Eddie straightens up and looks at Buck who stares back at him blankly, offering no assistance. He notices May setting her phone down out of the corner of his eye, a sly smile spreading on her face.

He definitely stepped into some sort of trap, walking outside. He’s sure of it.

“Um,” He says, dropping his hand to his side. Buck ducks his head a little, fluttering his eyelashes at Eddie. Eddie’s gonna kill him.

“You got something you want to say to me, Diaz?” Eddie shakes his head, letting himself laugh at the absurdity of the situation, Buck still with makeup smeared over half of his face, a bunch of kids surrounding them, watching them expectantly.

“Yeah, Buck. I think you look beautiful.”

The kids all burst into cheers and Eddie watches in amazement as Buck’s cheeks turn a shade of pink he’s pretty sure he’s never seen before.

May stands up from her chair.

“Alright let’s all get inside to wash up before dinner, okay?” She ignores everyone’s protests and ushers them back towards the house, sending a wink in Eddie’s direction before shutting the patio door.

Eddie lets his eyes linger on the door, daring anyone else to come out and catch them in another trap.

No one comes.

He turns back to Buck and they both just stare at each other before laughing softly. Eddie looks down at the wipes in his hand, almost forgotten. He steps back towards Buck and starts removing what’s left of the makeup.

“So...beautiful, huh?” Buck says eventually. Eddie focuses on the movement of the wipe against Buck’s face.

“Well, maybe not like this,” He says honestly. Buck huffs out a laugh.

“That’s good. I was worried I was gonna have to get done up like this all the time just for you to notice me.”

Eddie swallows, wiping the last stray swipe of glitter gloss from Buck’s face. He lets his fingers linger against his skin.

“I always notice you, Buck.”

Buck doesn’t say anything for a moment, just watches Eddie ball up the used wipes in his hand before slipping the pack back into his pocket.

“Really?” He says eventually, looking back up and holding Eddie’s gaze. Eddie hesitates.

He wants to play it off—say something about how of course everyone notices Buck, he demands attention all the time. He’s loud and bold and sometimes obnoxious—but Eddie knows that not everyone notices Buck the way he does.

It’s different. It’s not something that he can’t help—it's natural, instinctual. He’s drawn to Buck at all times, always. He doesn’t think there’s a way he could ever stop noticing Buck. He’s in everything Eddie does.

He notices Buck in the new alarm clock that sits on his nightstand—the one that’s supposed to wake him up gradually like the sun—the one Buck had insisted on buying for him because he thinks Eddie’s sleep schedule is shit and this clock’s supposed to be better. He never tells him that it actually does work for him—but he imagines the way the dark circles under his eyes have started to fade probably tell him all he needs to know.

He notices Buck in the oat milk that sits in the back of his fridge, in the extra protein bars in his pantry, in the box of baking supplies up high on the tallest shelf (maybe Eddie can cook—but he never bakes.)

He notices him in the extra clothes that end up in his laundry basket every once in a while—leftover from nights when Buck passes out on their couch. Notices him in the LAFD hoodie hanging on the hook by his front door (the one that’s just a little too big to be his own,) in the spare key to Buck’s apartment that’s been on his ring of keys for years now.

He’s in the way Eddie makes his morning coffee, the playlist he listens to on the way to work, the movies and TV shows in his Netflix queue, in the new phrases and mannerisms that Christopher picks up—ones that always hit Eddie right in his gut.

Of course Eddie always notices him. He could never miss the way Buck’s smile lights up a room or the way his laugh loosens up every tense muscle in Eddie’s body.

Sometimes, like if he’s had too much to drink, Eddie starts to think of Buck as a lighthouse. A really tall, really sturdy lighthouse. And through whatever—rain, fog, sleet, hail—Eddie’s always able to find his light.

Sober Eddie thinks that’s corny. But the thought always comes back to him—a truth he can’t shake.

“Yeah, Buck,” He says quietly. “Really.”

#lost your ask somehow idk #this got away from me lol #also i'm Rusty sorry <3 #writing #buddie #al talks #replies #had this outlined in my drive for like. two weeks and just. couldn’t write it lol

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peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology · 3 years

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I'm so excited to read everything for Summer of Love ✨ could i request prompt 37 + 53 with Tom? Maybe friends to lovers 👀

YES I'VE BEEN WAITING FOR THE VEGAS REQUEST I AM SO EXCITED

Okay no more screaming but I seriously hope you like it! This is one of my favorite prompts so I was super excited to get to do it 🥰🥰 Anyways, thanks for sending it in, feedback, as always, is appreciated and encouraged. Love you so so much xx

Drive Thru Wedding

37 - Getting drunk and getting married in Vegas

53 - "We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic."

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (friends to lovers)

Warnings: light angst

Summary: You had a drive thru wedding with your best friend

Masterlist

Taglist

Summer of Love

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Tom sat up, groaning and rubbing his eyes as light streamed into the hotel room. The room slowly came into focus and he spotted (y/n) passed out on his bed. He knit his brow and padded towards the window, pulling the blinds closed to try and dull his throbbing head. He made his way to the bathroom, wincing as he turned on the light. He splashed water on his face before realizing he was still in the same clothes he’d put on the night before. With a heavy sigh he returned to the bedroom and peaked at his phone. Calls and texts from his family and Harrison, nothing unusual outside of the fact that it was nearly noon.

“Shit,” he swore, glancing back over at (y/n), “Darling wake up,” he set a hand on her back, shaking her lightly.

She groaned, “Go away.”

“It’s nearly noon, come on, time to get up,” he chuckled.

“Fuck you,” she swore back at him before rolling onto her back, “I feel awful.”

“Yeah, me too,” he sighed, “I barely remember last night.”

“Me either. I hope I didn’t do anything embarrassing…”

“I’m sure you didn’t,” he assured, “We should go get some water, and eat.”

“Good call, but I need to shower first,” she yawned as she finally sat up, “Mind if I use your shower?”

“No, no of course not, I’m just gonna call Haz.”

“Cool, I’ll be quick,” she promised.

“Take your time,” he waved her off as he punched in his friend's number.

“Ah, he lives,” Harrison teased as he picked up the phone, “How’s (y/n)?”

“Showering, we’re both a bit fucked,” he frowned, “You aren’t in the suite are you?”

“No, we got breakfast and now we’re heading for the mob museum. We were going to wake you guys up but it seemed like you needed the sleep. You want to come meet us here?”

“Maybe, we’ve got to go eat first though,” he sighed, “Dude, what happened last night?”

“We all got really trashed, you and (y/n) were taking shots and you two took the driver and disappeared. We were all too trashed to even notice you were missing until we left though, but you guys were passed out when we got back to the hotel, so we figured you must have just headed back,” he chuckled, “Don’t remember a thing huh?’

“Hardly, I mean I remember being at the club for a while, but I don’t remember leaving…”

“Does she remember anything?”

“No, I don’t think she remembers anymore than I do.”

“That’s good, at least if you, you know, confessed something, she doesn’t remember.”

Tom blushed, “Yeah, that’s a plus…”

It was obvious to Harrison that something was wrong, “What?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Tom sighed, “I’ve just got this feeling something happened, I just can’t remember what.”

“Hey, I’m sure if you did anything too bad it’d be in the news by now. You probably just threw up or fell or something.”

“Probably, I just hope no one got it on video.”

“I’m sure they didn’t, look I gotta go, our Uber’s here, but let me know if you end up heading our way.”

“Yeah, no problem, I’ll get back to you in a bit.”

Tom rubbed his eyes and dug around his suitcase for some fresh clothes, after finding them he headed across the suite to use a different bathroom. He desperately wanted to clean up and figure out exactly what had occurred the night before. She still looked exhausted when they reunited outside of his room, he was sure he didn’t look any better.

“Everyone went out already huh?”

Tom nodded, “Yeah, they’re at the mob museum right now. They said we can meet up with them if we want, I figure we can see how we feel after we eat.”

“Good idea,” she rubbed her stomach with a sigh, “Do you think a mimose would help or hinder me right now.”

He smiled and wrapped his arm around her shoulders, “Definitely hinder. I think both of us should be on an alcohol detox today.”

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” she sighed, “Alright, a boring, virgin breakfast it is.”

“Oh you poor thing,” he laughed as they stepped onto the elevator, “It’s just tragic.”

They both opted for something easy on the stomach, simple eggs and fruits, regretting that they didn’t bring sunglasses down from the hotel room. They were both certain they couldn’t make it through a day on the strip, the lights and noise were bound to be too much, which ruled out the possibility of going to meet their friends. Tom still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off, it was an unreachable itch in the back of his mind.

“What do you remember from last night?”

“Uh, being at the club, doing some shots,” she tapped her chin, “I don’t know Tom, not much, it’s all kind of blurry really.”

“Same here. I just wonder where we were…”

“I’m sure we just came back here,” she yawned, “I mean you’re pretty high profile, if we were out doing anything crazy I’m sure we would have heard about it by now.”

“Yeah, probably…”

“Mr. Holland?” the waiter approached their table with a smile, “I have something for you from the front desk.”

“Oh, thanks,” he frowned at the manilla envelope placed in front of him, “Uh, who’s this from?”

“Your diver returned it this morning.”

“Thanks,” he repeated as he tore into the envelope, suddenly going wide eyed at its contents, “What the…”

(y/n) frowned and scooted towards him, “I wanna see.”

Before them laid a series of photos of them, clearly taken the night before at the Little White Chapel. (y/n) held a bouquet and Tom held her, his lips pressed to her cheek in one photo and her lips in the next.

“Holy shit,” (y/n)’s jaw nearly hit the floor, “No fucking way…”

“We must have been there for someone else,” Tom tried to explain.

“With a bouquet? Kissing?” (y/n) frowned at him, “Oh my god we eloped in Vegas!”

“Guess you can mark that one off your bucket list,” Tom tried to joke.

“Tom!” she flushed, “This is serious! We need to go somewhere right away and get this annulled!”

“Look even if we did do it, it doesn’t mean it was legally binding, I mean we were drunk, they probably just let us take some pictures to entertain us.”

“God I hope so,” she groaned, “We need to go down there now, get this sorted out right away.”

“I’ll call a driver,” Tom assured, “We’ll sort this out.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

(y/n) drummed her finger along her arm nervously while the elder lady at the chapel typed away at her computer, checking if anything had been registered under either of their names.

“Oh, yep, here it is,” she smiled to them, “Looks like we did hold a wedding for you two last night.”

“Like a real, legal one?” (y/n) pressed.

She nodded, “Yep, you two are married.”

“W-Well you have to delete it,” she demanded.

“Oh hunny, I can’t do that,” she apologized, “You’ll have to go to the county court to apply for an annulment.”

She groaned and Tom smiled at the lady as he ushered her towards the door, “Thanks for all your help, have a nice day.”

“You’re welcome!” she called after them cheerfully.

“This sucks,” (y/n) pinched her brow as they returned to the car, “I guess we��re going to the county court then.”

“We’ll get this sorted out,” Tom blushed, “I just hope we can stay friends after the divorce.”

She laughed while he gave instructions to the driver, “Depends how big my alimony checks are.”

“Why are you the one that gets alimony checks? What about me huh?”

“Because there’s no way I make more money than you movie star,” she poked his chest, “I’m taking Tessa too.”

“Oh now you’re taking it way too far,” he shook his head, “You can take the kids, and the houses, and the money, but no way you’re taking Tessa.”

“Dick,” she shook her head, “After everything we’ve been through, I can’t even keep the dog?”

“Absolutely not,” he laughed, “That’s my baby, I’ll go to war over her.”

“You used to talk that way about me,” (y/n) rolled her eyes, “See this is exactly why we’re getting this divorce.”

“Maybe we should have tried counseling,” he hummed, “You know I don’t think it would be so bad.”

“A divorce?”

“No, if we were married,” he flushed, “I mean just cause we’re like best friends and everything…”

“Yeah but you don’t marry your best friend,” she laughed, “You marry the love of your life.”

“I know, I know, I’m just saying, you know,” he wrung his hands nervously, embarrassed he’d said anything at all.

“What? That’d we’d be a super hot celebrity power couple? Because that’s totally true,” she smiled, “We’d be the best dressed at every premier.”

“Yeah, we’d be a good power couple…”

“I’m sure you and your eventual wife will also be a power couple,” she squeezed his arm with a big smile, “Well, second wife.”

He nodded and pursed his lips, “Can you believe we kissed?”

She laughed, “Oh yeah, lucky you.”

He was upset he couldn’t remember their first, and possibly only kiss, he always imagined it would be more special. “It’s just weird not remembering any of it.”

“I just don’t even know where we got the idea,” she sighed, “I wonder if we drove by it or something…”

“I don’t know, maybe we just talked about it.”

“Maybe, like we got all drunk and got up in our feels.”

“Probably.”

“Tom, what's wrong?” she frowned at him.

“Nothing, I’m just hungover,” he insisted.

“Alright, well we can go lay down again after we sort this out.”

“Yeah, that’d be nice.”

They were quiet the rest of the drive, with Tom growing more and more anxious as they approached the courthouse. It wasn’t that he wanted to be married, but he wanted some kind of relationship. He wanted to confess that he liked the idea of kissing her and being married to her and all of that, he just couldn’t seem to spit it out.

“Hi,” (y/n) smiled at the woman at the front desk, “This is kind of embarrassing but we got really drunk last night and ended up getting married, we just needed to file for an annulment.”

“Happens all the time,” she nodded, “Just fill this out and we’ll call you back to get this sorted out.”

“Thanks,” she took a clipboard and sat down beside Tom, “Time to start dividing assets.”

“Yeah, sounds good,” Tom took the board from her and began scribbling information down.

“Oh come on, I’m not that bad of a wife.”

“Ah, what’s got you in a sour mood Tommy?”

“Nothing,” he insisted, “I’m just trying to get this over with.”

“(y/n).”

“Fine, fine, I’ll just sit here,” she sighed, “Guess we aren’t getting divorce ice cream after this huh?”

Tom said nothing.

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tom continued to be quiet as they signed papers and drove back to the hotel, all (y/n) could get with her were one word responses. She wasn’t sure what had changed and made him so upset. She was worried he’d gotten a message from his managers or something.

“Tom come on, you can tell me what’s going on,” she begged, “I know you're upset.”

“It’s nothing okay? I keep telling you I’m fine.”

“But you aren’t, I know you aren’t, and I’m just trying to help, you know you can tell me anything.”

He pinched his nose, “I can’t tell you about this.”

“Of course you can,” she set her hand on his back with a frown, “You can tell me anything.”

“I don’t know, today was just stressful.”

“I’m sure no one saw anything, somebody would have contacted you already.”

“Not about that,” he sighed.

“Okay, what about then?”

“What if I didn’t want to get the annulment?”

She wrinkled her brow in confusion, “Why wouldn’t you?”

“Because it’s you,” he blushed.

“You want us to have some kind of platonic marriage?” she laughed.

Without a word he cupped her face, pressing his lips to hers for a bruising kiss, “We are not platonic, and my feelings are never going to be platonic.”

Her whole face flushed and her jaw hung open in shock, “You’re into me?”

“I’m completely crazy about you,” he nodded.

“S-So you want to marry me?”

“No, no,” he shook his head, “Not right now at least. But I don’t want to throw away any chance of us being together.”

“Tom annulling our drunk Vegas wedding isn’t the same as throwing away any chance of us being together,” she bit her cheek, “I mean I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m into you.”

His cheeks flushed bright red, “Really?”

She nodded, “Obviously dummy, I don’t think I would have married you if I didn’t.”

He laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, “So it would be cool if I wanted to take you on a date?”

“Very cool,” she nodded and wrapped her arms around his neck, “But maybe this time we can wait a little longer for the proposal.”

“Yeah well a Vegas drive thru was never exactly my dream wedding anyway,” he squeezed her waist and pressed a kiss to her forehead, “Maybe we should go somewhere without alcohol though, just to be safe.”

“Considering my head’s still throbbing, I actually think I’m good on drinking for the rest of the year,” she got on her tiptoes, giving Tom another quick kiss.

“Speaking of which, how would you like to come take a hangover nap with me, girlfriend.”

“Sounds like a lovely use of our time, boyfriend.”

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

Taglist:

@niallberry @spideyssunshine @namoreno @thevery-firstpage @outshineallthestars @roseke @zspideyy @emistrash @andreagf956 @tomsirishgirlx @peachyafshawn @agbspidey

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland x reader fluff #tom holland au #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x reader angst #tom #tom and harrison #tom and haz #harrison osterfield #harrison #summer of love #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction

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troublesometrollhunters · 3 years

Note

Hello! I would like to ask for a request please! (Is this how it happens?) but I would like to request the creep slayers helping out Werewolf!reader with their shift on the full moon? Like reader is worried that they’ll accidentally hurt them but instead they end up being a big sweat heart who just loves to chase rabbits and get good scratches behind the ears? You can make it as fluffy as you want or not at all! I do wish for it to be platonic but you can make it romantic if you wish I don’t mind! I hope you have an awesome day! 🤗💖😊 (also feel free to ignore/delete this one if your at all overwhelmed or it breaks the rules or you just don’t feel like it!)

~ You'd gotten into a scuffle with a weird looking dog creature a couple nights ago. It was during one of your patrols and the stupid thing bit you before running off. At the time it only stung a bit, there was some blood but no need for stitches as the bite wasn't deep enough. It shredderd your clothes but thankfully your arm was more or less okay.

~ You'd bandaged it and called it a day thinking nothing of it. But for some reason it'd been itching really bad all day and even stung a bit, you didn't know why. Going to Eli worried it might be infected he seem concerned. After school he took you home and did a couple tests in his room. As he continued looking under his microscope and writing things down, he swallowed nervously once he had his results.

~ Stealing his paper it was all science jargon. You couldn't really understand the prognosis. Eli doesn't want to say anything but after pressuring him because it's your body and he should tell you and after annoying him by asking what certain words meant the nerd gives in. Apprentally that dog that bit you while you were fighting? Not a dog.

~ You call Steve to have a meeting to discuss what you should do. The bite was burning because it was a full moon and in a couple hours you'd transform for the first time. You don't say what's happening over the phone incase Steve panics but it sounds important so he hops on his vespa and skips practice. Apprentally you made it sound wicked scary and he was super concerned about your health. When he gets there and he's handed the paper Eli had made he's confused too. Once Eli and you explain the situation he nods.

"Wait so (Y/N)'s gonna turn into a big slobbery dog?" He asks looking confused.

"A werewolf Steve. I'm gonna transform into a werewolf." You correct and Steve just hums and nods.

"Badass." He states still nodding.

"STEVE!" You and Eli scold and he hums.

~ Steve keeps you calm about the whole situation while Eli begins looking up when there's nights with a full moon. He starts making alarms on your phone for when the full moon will be every month so you can prepare.

~ Steve is pretty excited! His best buds gonna turn into a beast AWESOME! Eli's more on the worried side like you. He's worried you'll get hurt or you'll hurt yourself or you'll hurt someone else? And what happens if you bite someone and this spreads? That could be dangerous but they couldn't just kill you? Your not like other freaks your their friend!!!

~ You decide to have a sleepover that night. You'll watch stupid movies and eat food in the basement and they'll watch you transform and make sure you don't bite anyone before locking you up for the night. It's kinda scary to think about but it's for everyones good.

~ They watch you transform and it's painful. Bones crack, furr sprouts, and sounds a human shouldn't make are made as you growl and whine. Eventually it's done. Steve and Eli run upstairs before locking the door and your left with a raw steak.

~ You begin scratching at the door after awhile. You let out whines like any dog would and howl a bit. After some silence they hear a thud and suddenly it's quiet. Eli suggests they check it out and Steve nods. Neither of them open the door.

~ Finally Steve gives in at Eli's pestering and running into the basment bat out and ready to use your gone. Eli begins panicking as Steve freaks out. Both of them trying to figure out how you got out until they see the basements tiny but now open window.

~ Steve puts Eli on his vespa and they're off searching for you. Eli suggests getting backup but Steve wants to find you. If him and Eli did this they can fix it. Plus he doesn't want to ask Jim for help. They could handle it. After all it's just you. Werewolf or not this is their friend.

~ Armed with squeak toys, raw steak, and silver the boys go searching for you. Eli blows a dog whistle hoping to summon you and Steve squeaks a toy as he holds a bat looking around. Suddenly there's a growl. Turning there you are. Eli panics and throws a ball at your face before hiding behind Steve. Steve holds out his bat concerned.

~ You bark before you roll the ball towards Steves feet. Steve pauses staring at you before slowly placing his bat down. You yip bending down and wiggle your tail as you stare at the ball then him. You nudge it towards him again tail wagging.

~ Steve reaches out and you make pleased sounds as he gives you scratches. Kicking your foot and wagging your tail you pant happy. Your not being threatening and you don't seem like a danger. You basically a big puppy dog.

~ You paw at Steves clothes and suddenly the blonde teen is pinned. You chuff in his face before getting off of him and leaning down. You bounce back and forth and Steve laughs playing with you.

~ Eli makes observations as you and Steve wrestle together. You bark and roll ontop of him pinning the jock as he laughs and struggles underneath you. You get off and bat at him playfully as you two continue to goof off. Surprisingly your very careful and don't try to bite either one of them.

~ You follow them home getting bits of steak as you do. As Eli falls onto his bed next to Steve you lay on top of them and whine before yawning and settling down. Steve pets you to keep you calm and eventually all of you are cuddled together sleeping.

~ When you wake up you have a very intense headache. Your dehydrated and you feel like you ate something awful but otherwise you feel okay. You get breakfast and make some for the boys. When you wake up you make the CreepSlayer sign to show your fine and you all eat as they tell you about last night.

~ It becomes a CreepSlayerz tradition to have a sleepover every full moon and the boys wach over you. Eventually they go on patrols with you in your werewolf form and the creeps get the message not to mess with the CreepSlayerz.

(Might make a part two this was cute)

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kominum · 3 years

Text

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write.

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

#corpse x reader #corpse x y/n #sailor moon!au #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband angst #corpse angst

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magebastard · 3 years

Text

felled and pounded into the ground

ship: det. lane wheatley x mason somewhere after book 2

rating: m for discussion of mature topics

warnings: cw for smoking

notes: i posted this last week and accidentally deleted it so i noodled with it a little and here she is again

He’s caught half-way between a smirk and the uneasy pang in his chest.

In the pitch darkness of whatever late night hour has crept up on them, Lane is sat naked at the open window. Smoking one of his cigarettes. She’d confiscated it out of his jacket pocket, strewn carelessly on her bedroom floor. A casualty of his focus having been occupied elsewhere.

She knew exactly which pocket to reach for. Didn’t have to ask.

“You’re not gonna sleep?” His voice is thick in his own ears. It feels good. All of him well used. His smirk only grows as he stretches, slow and satisfied.

“Nah,” Lane flicks ash away, long fingers tapping gently. “I’ve got some reports I want to get drafted. Some research I’m itching to start, as well.” And if his voice is raw, hers is ruined. He sits up—finds it takes effort not to preen when she whips her head around to watch.

“It’s a blow to the ego that you’re not exhausted right now,” he quips. Lane arches a brow. She tucks a knee to her bare chest.

“One of these days I’ll have to show you what it takes to tire me out.” She places the cigarette between her lips and pulls. Something peach-pit sized and razor sharp flinches in Mason’s own rib as he hears the way her lungs crinkle and crack around the breath.

“And what about the first time?” he replies, coolly.

“The sun had just come up. I went through a supernatural home invasion. Extenuating circumstances.”

“Excuses, excuses.” Mason leans his weight back on his hands. He blazes with affection at the way her eyes rake over his splayed out form. Lane gives a short, sweet little laugh.

“Anyways, if you wanna get out of here, that’s fine. I won’t be very entertaining and I’m not promising you more sex tonight.”

And if that doesn’t just feel like someone’s dumped a bucket of ice over him.

It’s inexplicable, the way Mason tenses. His shoulders ache with the strain it takes not to hike them up to his ears. He doesn’t even know why he’s trying to play it cool, or why he needs to play at all, or why he feels like she’s just slapped him. He does know that she can see him frowning, and that she’s got one to match.

“Problem with that?” she asks, blowing out smoke. And oh, fuck that’s not-

“No, fuck, that’s not-“ And oh, he’s speaking.

Lane leans back, head resting against the window trim. “Because if there were-“

“There’s not, sweetheart.”

A wrenching pause, and Mason feels actual sweat in his palms.

“Alright.”

She turns away again, and fuck, she’s still got that frown on her face. Mason feels bloated by his sudden discomfort. He doesn’t know what to say. He’s not built for this. Whatever this is. Fuck.

“I’m not exactly used to getting kicked out of bed,” he ends up saying. He’s not sure that it’s the easygoing anecdote he was trying for. Lane laughs again, low and smooth. Mason settles. Gets to his feet and closes the distance to sit beside her at the window.

He grins at the scowl she fixes him with as he pries the less-than-halfway-smoked cigarette from her fingers, taking one drag and promptly squashing it out. Mason does not think about it as he kisses the knot between her brows. He doesn’t know what it means. He doesn’t care to ask right now.

“You don’t have to go,” she says to him then.

Years down the line, he will not remember that in this moment, he held his breath with his lips still pressed to her forehead. She will. She’ll remind him.

Lane wraps her fingers around his and he melts.

“You want me to stick around?” It’s there again. The molasses sticking in his throat.

Her hand squeezes in his. Mason swallows and squeezes back. Something impermeable and heavy hangs over them in the dark. What the fuck is going on here? His thoughts flail. Lane grants him mercy.

“Yeah.” She gives his knuckles a quick kiss, feather-light and gentle. Mason frowns. What the fuck is going on here? She turns back to the open window. “Go to bed. I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

It’s maddening. It feels like standing still in a house on fire. It feels like looking down over a thousand meter drop. It feels like swallowing an ice cube, whole.

Mason squeezes her hand again. “Yeah,” he says. “Alright,” he says. And on lead feet, he stands. He walks quietly back to bed. Sinks wearily into sheets that smell like her. Cheap drug-store deodorant, the oceanic candles she lights in her living-room and something nameless. Something indiscernible. Something alive.

Mason keeps his eyes on her. Lane stays there a while longer and he finds himself counting her breath. He’s fast asleep by the time she closes the window.

#smoking cw #twc #fic #the wayhaven chronicles #mason #m #detective #c: lane wheatley #mason x lane #f!detective x mason #myfic

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purplesurveys · 3 years

Text

1044

survey by a7xbabii

Do you use e-mail often? I use it for eight hours, five days a week for work, so yes.

Do you hear any animals right now? I’m in a Starbucks inside a mall situated in the middle of a busy highway. It would be very unlikely to hear any animals right now.

Are you in a well-lit room? Sure, I’d say this establishment has good lighting. There’s no light directly above me unlike the other seats, but it’s okay in this case as I don’t want other people seeing me take surveys.

Is your trashcan full? The main one we use at home just got full, so the last time I checked this morning my mom was airing it out.

What was the last crunchy thing you consumed? My chicken barbecue sandwich from last night.

Did you view anything disturbing today? Hmm, I guess so? I wanted to entirely redo one part of my embroidery piece since I wasn’t happy with how I did it, so I had to remove the threads and stuff. When they were all gone the template was filled with holes and it looked like one of those trypophobia photos. I’m not personally disturbed by that phenomenon, but I know a lot of people are.

Are there any holiday decorations in your house? Yeah, we’ve had our Christmas tree up since the beginning of November. We also usually put a wreath up our door but idk why my mom didn’t this year.

When was the last time you had a terrible headache? Last night, because I had not eaten all day.

Have you recently put lotion on your hands? No. I don’t like the feeling of lotion, so I don’t apply it on me a lot, if at all.

Are you hungry? Not so much, actually. I don’t feel too hungry today; I didn’t even finish my breakfast and that’s the only meal I’ve had so far today, and it’s already 4 PM.

Is it rainy where you're at right now? No, it’s quite fair. The sun’s not too strong anymore because of the time, but it’s still very much bright out.

Do you carry a purse? If so, describe what it looks like. I take a wallet with me. It’s pink, made of fake leather, has three main slots inside, and it also has some tiny bite marks on the outer edges from when Cooper was a lot younger.

Is your cell phone on vibrate? For certain notifications only, like texts and Viber.

Is your dishwasher full? We don’t use a dishwasher.

When is the last time you saw someone you like/love. Around a week and a half ago.

Do you like to wear gloves? No, I find them too itchy and I don’t need to wear them anyway.

Is there a body of water near where you live? There’s a creek that passes through my village near the clubhouse area, if that counts.

What are your thoughts on Avenged Sevenfold? No opinion. I never listened to them; though I am reminded of this one mutual I used to have on Tumblr/Twitter. She used to be a wrestling fan and was a part of our main circle, but she gradually shifted her main fandom to Avenged Sevenfold. By the time she cemented her new interest she then went on a huge unfollowing spree of wrestling fans on her feed and she apparently PM’d each person she intended to unfollow, including me. I remember her explaining that she was now in a different fandom and was gonna have to stop following me which I found...kinda extra to be honest lmao because nobody does that, but I appreciate the effort to approach each one of us, I guess.

Are you wearing anything pink right now? Nope, but my wallet is pink and so is my keyboard cover.

Do you like to swim in the ocean? I prefer beaches, but sure.

What is the creepiest bug you've ever saw? Cockroaches.

Do you currently have split ends? I don’t think so.

When is the last time you used the bathroom? Around five hours ago when I took a shower before heading out.

Do you chew on your lip? Almost never.

Are you afraid of needles? For the most part yeah, especially syringes. I’m not afraid of them when I do my embroidery, but that’s the only time I feel comfortable with a needle.

What is the last thing you lost? A pen, I think.

When is the last time you saw a bald person? Five hours ago, when I said bye to my dad.

What car were you last in? [continued from two days ago] My own. I was driving home from the mall.

Do you like Batman? I tried to get into Batman and the whole shebang of comic books when I was a teenager, but I just couldn’t.

Have you ever played tennis? Never have, actually. I’ve always wanted to try.

Can you see a star shape in the room you are in? Probably not in my bedroom.

What are you sitting on? A pillow I’ve placed on my work chair so that it’s more comfortable. My parents got me a basic chair initially meant just for my internship, so it’s not the comfiest of chairs haha. But now that I have a job, a more suitable work chair is probably one of things I’ll have to invest on.

What is the last warm thing you touched? My chest felt itchy just a few seconds ago, so I was able to feel my skin scratching it.

Do you use hand sanitizer? That’s kind of a necessity now, so...

Where do you want to go in life? [continued from...I don’t even remember anymore] I don’t know if I even plan to make it past 30 at this point. I can’t answer this right now.

Are you sweating? No, I’ve been in air-conditioned rooms all day and it feels so damn good.

When is the last time you had to scratch an itch? A few minutes ago when my neck itched.

Are you in any kind of club or group that is trying to save animals? No, but I very much support the cause.

Who is the last blonde you saw? At work today I saw someone who had her hair dyed blonde.

Where were you two hours after you got up, and what were you doing there? I needed to go to the office today because my team and I needed to pack some stuff to seed to certain media. It was the first time I got to visit the place and it was sooooooo homey and pretty :) I wish we can be allowed to work in the office soon; it would be best for my mental health at this point.

Do you wish for world peace? Um, of course.

Have you ever played fetch with a dog? We were able to teach Cooper how to pick up items that we throw but he’s still slowly learning that he actually has to give it back to us, haha.

What is the nearest object that is wood? The table I am typing on is made of wood.

Do you use Netflix? Yes, we have a family subscription.

Does your house have a fireplace? No, we don’t. And I can confidently tell you all other houses in this entire country, and probably the whole of Southeast Asia, don’t.

Do you wake yourself up in the morning, or does someone else? I wake myself up. On important days, I’ll put an alarm on.

What kind of hoodie did you last wear? It was a white hoodie with a UP seal on the left side.

Do you play games on your computer? No, my laptop isn’t equipped for games. I tried downloading Sims 4 when they made it free for a few weeks back in 2018, but my laptop’s fan started whirring like crazy and the battery got drained super fast. The entire period of me booting it up and then deleting it took like, a literal 15 minutes.

What is the last video game that you played? Mario Kart 8 on the Switch. I want to get myself Switch games as gifts, but I’m just so stingy towards myself hahaha.

Have you ever pet a stingray? I’m 50% would like to at least once and 50% I know of what it did to Steve Irwin, and I’m not messing with them.

If you were on vacation, would you ever go to Ireland? It’s not a big item on my bucket list, honestly. I’d love to go to Ireland, but it would probably be a part of a bigger itinerary, like if I decided to take a trip to that part of Europe.

Are you logged into Myspace right now? I haven’t been on there for more than a decade.

Did you have anything bad happen to you today? Yeah, but they’re stuff that happened at work that are a little hard to explain.

Have you ever been to New York? Nope. I’d love to take a trip there.

Do you use the term "lol" if you don't have anything to say? Not really. I use it in the end of my messages more so that I don’t sound mean.

Should you be sleeping right now instead of taking this survey? Hell no. It’s a Friday night so the last thing I want to be doing is sleeping.

Can you truly say you hate anyone? I don’t think so. I greatly dislike my brother, but I guess I don’t hate him. I find it too strong a word.

Have you ever disected a baby pig in a class at school? Not a piglet, no. We dissected an earthworm, a fish, and eventually a frog.

What brand of dish liquid do you use? A local brand you wouldn’t recognize.

When is the last time you ate a Hershey Kiss? It’s probably been more than a year. It’s not my favorite candy.

Do you ever feel unappreciated? Yes.

Do you currently have any blemishes on your face? No. My pimple finally went away, hallelujah.

Who is the last baby you held? My cousin who is now 13 years old. I’m too anxious to hold babies; I always feel like I’d drop them so I find myself declining even when I have the chance to hold one.

Are you a lover? I guess.

Do you use smileys often in text convos? Yes. Not a lot of people like them but it’s better to sound friendly and approachable than stoic.

Do you have the Google toolbar on your computer? Like...Chrome? I have the program, yeah. It’s my default browser as well.

Do you like Sunkist? I’ve never had it.

Would you ever consider being a cannibal? I mean...I guess only if I was in a life-and-death situation, like if a plane I was in crashed on an island and I was starting to get hungry. I certainly don’t fantasize about cannibalism on any regular day.

Did you forget something important in the past week? I made a few mistakes at work due to me forgetting things, yeah.

Do you like learning new things? Sure.

What color is your toothpaste? White.

Are the floors in your house creaky? Nopes. I don’t think our doors are creaky-level just yet as well.

Do you fear death? I hate the uncertainty of what happens while it’s taking place, and what happens after. But I’ve been wishing for it for a while as well. There’s a difference.

Is your mouth dry? Not right now, no.

Do yoou have any scars from an animal? Yeah I’ve got a few marks and scratches from Cooper. I never run out of them, really.

Did you have fun with this survey? It was okay.

Was it random enough? Sure.

#survey #surveys

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renaerys · 4 years

Text

11. “You’re going to make it. Just stay awake.” (Butch/Buttercup)

February Fic Prompt #11 originally requested by Anon. Greens shenanigans and hella innuendo, just the way I like them.

xxx

Everybody knew that the best person to go on night patrol with was Boomer. The guy talked but not nearly as much as Bubbles, who could probably talk herself through an earthquake and never even notice. He wasn’t a micromanager like Blossom or a straight-up jerk like Brick. And he definitely was not even half as annoying as Butch could be.

“You ever wonder what the fuck is up with Monster Island?”

Butch sat next to Buttercup on the Millennium Tower, the tallest building in Townsville, with their feet dangling over the edge and the city lights at their feet. She narrowed her eyes at him. “No.”

He ignored her. “You know, ‘cause that place is what, three? Four square miles? And the monsters just keep coming.”

“What’s your point?” Buttercup said, not really caring. Her watch read a quarter past midnight. She should’ve been in bed an hour ago.

Butch suddenly leaned in close, and Buttercup leaned back away from him. He looked very serious, and that almost always meant he was about to say something mad dumb—

“Giant beast orgies.”

Buttercup groaned. It was going to be a long night.

“For real! They must be going at it 24/7 poppin’ out tentacle monsters and dino hybrids and flaming squirrels at the rate we fight ‘em. How does that even work? Like, are they all just fucking and it’s Baby Roulette to see what’s gonna come out?”

“Dude, gross. I don’t want to think about that shit.”

“Pssh, don’t lie.”

“I’m really not.”

“You’re not even a little bit curious about what kinda Stranger Things shit is going down right over the bay?” Butch pointed southwest toward Citiesville’s Golden Bay, where the aptly named Monster Island sat a few miles off the coast. “Like the Booger Monster we fought before the Reds fucked off to Snob College. How does that even work?”

He made a crude gesture with this fist and forefinger and then pantomimed picking his nose. Buttercup shoved him off the edge of the building.

“Cut it out, Butch. I said I don’t want to talk about that shit.” She grabbed the backpack he’d brought and pulled out a bag of chips. “Besides, there’s nothing to talk about. It’s just weird monster biology, end of story.”

Butch floated one hundred stories above the ground and grinned at her. “So you have wondered about it.”

“Clearly not as much as you, Horny Darwin.”

He threw back his head and laughed from his gut. Buttercup scowled and stuffed some chips in her mouth. The crunch helped her focus, but her eyes were drooping and her head felt a bit fuzzy.

“Hey, you okay?” Butch was no longer laughing as he hovered close and peered at Buttercup. “You look tired.”

Buttercup cast the chips aside. They weren’t really helping, and she wasn’t hungry, anyway. She ran a hand through her shoulder-length hair. “Yeah, I woke up at 4 a.m. today.”

“Why the hell would you wake up that early on a patrol night?”

“Because I wasn’t supposed to be patrolling tonight, you were.”

“Oh, right. I forgot.”

Not surprising. Butch tended to tune out shit that didn’t directly concern him, especially if it was coming from Blossom. She’d called Buttercup at four in the goddamned morning ranting about some giant hairball monster that had attacked Ivy University campus and how Brick had been so sleep deprived that they’d both nearly suffocated to death and she had to help him to bed and somehow all of this was now Buttercup’s problem because Blossom knew they were patrolling alone for only a few hours to get out of it but no one should be patrolling alone in case of giant hairballs attacking. Buttercup pointed out that the likelihood of another giant hairball attacking Townsville, which was clear across the country from Blossom and Brick’s college, was pretty low. Blossom told her to cut the attitude and make sure Butch didn’t patrol alone tonight. She did not have time to argue when she had to go convince the administration to change Brick’s finals schedule so he could actually get some sleep.

And since Boomer and Bubbles were currently out of town at a music festival until tomorrow, Buttercup had no choice but to be here tonight.

“Ugh, whatever. Did you bring any of those energy shots? I’m about to pass out,” Buttercup said.

Butch sat back down next to her and pulled his bag onto his lap. “You know that shit’s basically radioactive rat piss.”

“This from the guy who scarfed three bacon double cheeseburgers on the flight over here.”

He grinned wolfishly and flexed his bicep at her. “Hey, this hot bod doesn’t get by on yogurt and protein shakes alone. A man needs red meat.”

“A man needs less cholesterol in his diet if he wants to live past 40.”

“See, this is why it’d never work between us. Sorry doll, I gotta lead with my stomach.”

Buttercup snapped at that awful pet name he’d taken to calling her lately and swung around to punch him in the stomach. He caught her fist just as it made contact, absorbing the brunt of her force, and met her eyes. The son of a bitch was still grinning.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” she hissed. Her fist shook and sparked with green energy as she tried to finish her punch, but he held on.

Halfway under her as she threw her weight behind her stalled punch, Butch’s smile relaxed into something softer but just as dangerous as he looked up at her through his messy bangs. “You kinda like it.”

Buttercup dug her knee into his thigh right over the femoral artery, and he shuddered. “Yeah, this is me liking it.”

She applied more pressure, and he gasped. His other hand grabbed her shoulder and threw her off him, but Buttercup rolled and landed on her hands and feet in a crouch. Butch matched her guerrilla stance and they faced off on top of the world with the stars at their backs and thunder in their veins.

“Still gonna pass out?” he asked.

“What?”

“You said you were about to pass out. Is this any better?”

Buttercup frowned. He’d provoked her on purpose to distract her from her sleepiness? That was almost…

He got up and stretched like a cat, and Buttercup couldn’t help but notice the subtle ridges of his abs when his dark shirt ran up for just a moment. Clearly he was excelling at that gym trainer job he’d been at full-time since they graduated high school.

Not that that mattered at all.

She got up and wiped her hands on her jeans. “A little, I guess. Still tired as shit though.”

Butch cracked his neck like he was getting ready to fight, but he wasn’t. For as long as she had known him, Buttercup had always been able to sense when he felt the urge, just as he could sense it in her. Primal, instinctual, not just a need but a desire to ruin and be ruined all for the manic joy of surviving it. She felt it less the older she got once her body stopped changing and growing, but every couple of months they would inevitably seek each other out for a row. Not even monsters could quite scratch that particular itch. If anything, they exacerbated it.

“Sweet. I got a few other ideas,” he said.

Buttercup crossed her arms. “You get ideas?”

“Ha ha, you bitch. I’m serious.”

She cracked a smile. “We’re on patrol.”

“Yeah, so let’s go patrol.”

“What’re you—”

He took off in a blaze of green, not flying but running down the side of the Millennium Tower, dodging balconies and flipping off the flagpole like some kind of insane Super gymnast. He didn’t lose momentum when he landed and took off running across the busy street toward the next building.

Buttercup was dashing after him before she could think twice about it, to hell with staying here by herself. She slid over the roofs of two cars crossing the street and leaped from balcony to balcony as she climbed the next building higher and higher. Butch had already made it to the top and paused to look back at her. His smiling challenge boiled her blood, and he took off sprinting again along the drain pipes. Buttercup flipped over the guard railing on the roof, sprinted to the other side, and leaped off the edge in a free fall.

The night wind whipped her loose hair, and she somersaulted to cushion her landing on the pedestrian sky bridge connecting this building to the next. Butch slid down the drain pipe and landed similarly a short ways ahead on the glass and metal bridge. They faced off, and she couldn’t help but grin fantastically at the sight of him winded and emanating green power, ready to run.

They didn’t speak, there was no need. He took off and she tore after him, each carving their own path leaping concrete chasms, rolling into their falls, and racing against gravity and mortality up the mirror-bright sides of skyscrapers. Buttercup cartwheeled through a narrow path between two huge AC generators and landed like a cat on the metal railing, where she spotted an enormous tower crane powered down for the night in the midst of a new construction project. It was tens of stories tall, and she wanted nothing more than to run up its mast.

Butch had the same idea and leaped like a monkey from the roof of the building next to hers and grabbed the jib. He hit it with the force of a Super, and the huge machinery whined and began to swing. Buttercup abandoned her original plan for one that would be a thousand times cooler. Moving fast, she raced along the thin railing and pedaled through her jump to get her across to the next building over. The crane groaned in protest as Butch sprinted along the length of the jib. She wouldn’t have much of a window.

With a running start, Buttercup scrambled up the wall of the roof access door and jumped high into the air just as the long, metal winch cord came swinging by. She grabbed it barely in the nick of time and went spinning.

Above, she searched for Butch and found that he wasn’t slowing his momentum even as he neared the end of the jib. Buttercup gave the winch cord a little extra boost of her power and went careening high into the air on an updraft just as Butch free-dived off the jib. The night air parted for her and the stars fell to meet her as she reached out, elated, and Butch reached back.

They joined hands at the wrists, and Buttercup moved with gravity and the momentum he’d brought with him before it could wrench her arm clean out of the socket. Together, they hurtled through the air, bounced off a radio tower pole, and landed in a two-man roll on a private rooftop golf course.

Butch was laughing when they came to a stop in a heap on the green, and Buttercup laughed with him. He had his arms around her as she hovered over him.

“That was,” he stammered, breathless.

“Amazing!” Buttercup said.

“Fucking incredible! Holy shit, when you ran for the winch cord—”

“I didn’t think I’d stick it for a second—”

“But you did and I swear I lost my goddamned mind—”

“You jumped! You fucking idiot, you’re lucky I was there to catch you.” Buttercup shoved him, but he only laughed again and held her waist tighter.

“Woman please, how could you ever resist the chance to catch this hot shit? I saw your face, you totally creamed yourself!”

“Fuck you, it was the moment and I wasn’t even looking at you!”

They could hardly breathe as they laughed, and gravity rolled them over. The grass was cool under Buttercup’s cheek, and above the stars were bright and close. Slowly, the moment subsided as they caught their breaths and watched each other through the gloom.

“I kinda knew you’d catch me,” Butch said.

Buttercup rolled her eyes. “I regret it already.”

“Sure you do.”

He was smiling, but there was no mocking or malice behind it. Strangely enough, Buttercup thought it suited him.

She pulled away before she could finish that dangerous train of thought, and he let her without making a big deal out of it. They sat up side by side and looked out over the city and the ocean beyond. Monster Island was dark, but the detection barrier surrounding it glowed a subtle blue in the starlight and city lights.

“Five and a half hours until sunrise,” Butch said, checking his watch.

Buttercup groaned. “That’s so long from now.”

He nudged her shoulder with his. “You’re gonna make it. Just stay awake.”

“Wow, genius plan.” She nudged him back.

“Hey, I got plenty more ideas where Super Parkour came from. Just say the word.”

Buttercup allowed herself a smile in the darkness. Butch could drive her crazy, but over the years she’d gotten used to his self-indulgent vulgarity. Sometimes she didn’t mind. Sometimes it was just kind of nice. Familiar. A pull she couldn’t explain or describe, except that she knew he felt it too, and he always knew exactly what she needed.

“In a few minutes,” Buttercup said, her eyes drooping a bit as sleep crept up on her little by little.

She could feel his warmth through her sleeve and his, close enough to touch, close enough.

“Yeah,” he said, and turned his gaze skyward. “Just a few more minutes.”

They had all night, after all.

#Butchercup #Greens #Butch #Buttercup #Powerpuff Girls #Powerpuff Girls fanfiction #PPG fic #PPG #February Fic Prompts #the more I write these two the more I adore them

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fumbling-fanfics · 5 years

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Fold Clothes - Part 2 - Viktor Drago x PregnantReader

So I have kept trying to add to this and nothing keeps happening, so I'm going to post this as is and maybe revise it or delete it or something

You knew this would happen. It was a weird feeling across your stomach - like an elastic band stretching, but it also felt like a muscle contracting. You held onto the bathroom sink, waiting for the weird feeling to pass. Waiting for pain to follow. But it didn't. There was the feeling of something snapping and the feeling of warm water down your legs. “Fuck sake” you sighed. “Not now. Not now. Not now!” you chant quietly to yourself. Your really didn't want it to happen now. Not without Viktor.

Knowing you could have hours before actually going into labor you decide to get your hospital bag and go through it to make sure you have everything you need.

And as you go through stuff you lay stuff out on the couch and wonder back and forth from your bedroom, off the side of the living room, the walking helps with the mild contractions.

The panicked call of your name from Viktor signals his home, and he's more than worried. He's probably seen the two bags sitting on the couch. He rushes into the bedroom to find you sitting down on the edge of the bed riding out a stronger than before contraction. His expression is one of pure panic and fear. “Viktor, its fine" you reassure.

***********

Of course your apartment block lift is broken, which causes Viktor to vow to fix the lift himself as you to take the stairs. While you hold the railing with one hand, Viktor has his arm wrapped around the back of your waist - practically carrying you down the stairs. You've asked him twice to go ahead and get the truck started but he refuses to leave you.

The ride to the hospital is easier than you thought it would be, your too busy trying to keep Viktor calm and relaxed to focus too much on the contractions. And when you do go quite to breath deeply, Viktor panics.

***********

“He's still holding her” the mean nurse grumbles, tossing your admission chart onto the nurses station. “Here -” the nice Nurse rises up out of the chair, cutting her break short. “- I'll swap you this one, for that one” She pulls out the easy chart and let's the mean nurse look it over. “Fine” is all the mean nurse says walking off with the new chart towards the patients room.

Sticking her head around the open doorway, the nice nurse sees your still asleep, and Viktor's still cradling his new baby girl. She steps into the room, with a quite “Hi” Viktor watches her make her way to your bed. “Is everything okay?” She can hear the panic in Viktor's voice. “Just fine, just doing the hourly check up. I'll do baby in a minute”

Viktor watches intently as the nurse hums along doing what she needs to do. He watches as she checks machines, you, writes things down. When she turns around Viktor's eyes are glued to you. “It's normal for new mothers to sleep a lot. Giving birth isn't an easy thing” Viktor nods with a blush.

“I need to do some observations on the baby, but can you hold her for me?” the nice nurse realises she will probably have to pry the baby out of Viktor's arms and that won't be good for anyone. Viktor nods and the nice nurse smiles that nice smile that makes even the hardened patients soften.

***********

“Do you want to hold her?” you offer Ivan. He stares for a minute. “You can sit down if you want” you motion to the second chair in the room. Ivan moves to it. You can feel the nervousness coming from him as you hand him your sleeping daughter. She stirs for a second making a noise that makes has Ivan stiffen. “So long as you hold her. She'll be fine. Viktor's spoilt her already” You give Ivan's shoulder a gentle squeeze. "Are you ready?" the Nurse asks, standing patiently at the door. Ivan frowns at her. “I'm just going to go to the bathroom, I'll be back” you slip on the hospital dressing gown and the nurse grabs your packed duffle bag.

It's only after 5 minutes of looking around the room and at sleeping Viktor does Ivan realise that there is small bathroom attached to hospital room. When Ivan looks back down and the tiny person in his arms she gives him smile. It's a long smile, like she knows he's looking at her.

Ivan stares and watches the smile fade, and the baby wiggles in his arms to face against his chest more. Ivan let's go of a breathe he didn't realise he was holding.

***********

When Viktor wakes up he's surprised to see his father there. His huge frame wrapper around the soft candy floss blanket that surrounds his daughter. Ivan is so busy starring down at the tiny bundle Viktor has to clears his throat to make Ivan look up.

“Where's (y/n)?” Viktor aks breaking the silence. “She said something about a bathroom” Viktor frowns noticing the small ensuite bathroom attached to the room is empty.

Viktor's Arms feel weird without the tiny weight of his daughter. His hands itch to have her back, but she seems happy with Ivan so he doesn't bother either of them.

"You were this small" Ivan muses, still looking down at the baby. "Do you have a name yet?" Viktor nods, a small smile on his face. "A few" he explains. Viktor reached for a piece of paper on the bedside table. "there's Amera, Mia, Dinah, Hanna…"

For the next couple of hours Ivan and Viktor discuss names.

***********

“Grandpa Ivan!” your daughter, Lily, screams, sprinting across the park grass to Ivan. She moves so quickly, then launches herself into Ivan's arms. Viktor realises that she may be an athlete after all - a sprinter.

"Careful" you call, watching Lily climb from the top of the climbing frame onto Ivan's shoulders. Viktor quitely laughs next to you. "That's your fault you know. You're the one that's gonna have to explain to her that she can't kept climbing on people, that there's an age limit to piggyback rides" you laugh. Viktor stares on with a smile. "I'll be able to pick her up for a while"

***********

Strolling home from the park, your daughter is still full of life. Bouncing high on her feet, recalling all the things she did with Grandpa Ivan. “I love all my Grandma's and Grandpa's” she announces to anyone and everyone. “But… Grandpa Ivan is my favourite” she muses. She skips higher, then changes the subject. “Can I be a frog when I grow up?” She turns with a yawn, reaching out for Viktor. He scoops her up in one movement and she molds against him. “Daddy” Viktor hums in response but doesn't get a reply. When you look beside your Lily is falling asleep with a yawn.

**********************************************

Tags : @beaminglife @endless00paradise @honeychicana @jojolu @designerwriterchic @lady-olive-oil @themyscxiras @amelatonin @dc41896 @mimigemrose @queen-of-the-jabari @v-writings @forbeautyandlife @blackinkfics @leah_lucas @profoundlynerdywolf @lovelymari4 @crushed-pink-petals @ellixthea @est1887 @melinda-january @blackandnoir

#viktor x oc #viktor drago x black reader #viktor imagine #viktor drago x reader #viktor drago #viktor drago fic #Viktor drago x PregnantReader

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banshee-cheekbones · 6 years

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happy fanfic writer’s appreciation day y’all!

I’ve been a part of the Unsolved fandom since November 2017, and I continue to be staggered at just how goddamn talented this fandom is. I’ve read so, so many thousands of words of quality fic, and I wanted to share a few of my faves with you! this list includes Shyan and ot3 fics, along with a few crossovers.

ao3 and tumblr links are both included whenever possible; please let me know if any links are incorrect or broken and I’ll update them asap. please show these authors some love and appreciation, whether it’s through a kudos, a comment or a reblog! as always, please be certain to read the tags and ratings so you have the best reading experience for yourself.

and now, with that being said, below the cut are 70ish fics, in alphabetical order, sorted by ship!

Ryan/Sara/Shane

A Perfect Piece of Ass, Like Every Californian by beethechange. 6866 words, rated E. ao3. �� “Happy birthday, Shane,” Sara says. “I got you a Ryan.”

Comments: this is just pure, unadultered smut and frankly, we don’t deserve Bee. she’s so good and this is so good.

Civil Discussion by ricky_goldsworth. 1854 words, rated E. ao3. “Sara,” Ryan says, very seriously. “You can have sex anywhere, if you’re determined enough.”

Comments: in real life, I have an impassioned rant ready to go at any given moment about how dumb of an idea shower sex is, but this fic almost changed my mind. it’s that incredible.

Cotton by ricky_goldsworth. 561 words, rated T. ao3. It starts on a Saturday night.

Comments: clothes sharing is my favorite trope of all time, and this was super sweet and perfect.

Daisy Canfield Will Have Her Revenge On Los Angeles by ricky_goldsworth. 5852 words, rated T. ao3. Once Sara becomes a permanent addition to the True Crime crew, it’s inevitable that she ends up roped into the filming for the next season of Supernatural, too.

Comments: This is the first ot3 fic I ever read and it made me fall in love with them. The dynamic is spot-on, and the way they fall together is very sweet and natural.

ghoooOOOooost.mov by ElasticElla. 1542 words, rated M. ao3 & tumblr. "Did I tell you Shane and I might’ve caught a ghost on video?”

Comments: not only does this fic have one of the best titles that I’ve ever seen, but I’m a sucker for Ryan being stuck on Sara and Shane, and this fic is a nice twist on that!

hands to the sky (show me that you're mine) by angelsaves. 3631 words, rated E. ao3. Sara fills in for Shane on a Buzzfeed Unsolved Supernatural shoot, and she and Ryan totally see a ghost. The only way to keep it from infiltrating their nightmares is, of course, cuddling.

Comments: I love, love this, especially the Ryan/Sara dynamic!

Ryan/Shane

a breath of myth and mystery by abovetheruins. 8295 words, rated M. ao3 & tumblr. At first Shane has no idea what the whole song and dance routine is about. All he sees is the familiar broad span of Ryan's back, the dimples resting just above his ass, the dip of his spine, and miles of bronze skin, until Ryan nudges his hoodie further up the length of his back, wincing as he carefully maneuvers the hem over what Shane realizes aren't actually folds in the fabric but lumps beneath it.

Comments: I’ve never been a huge wing!fic person, but this fic changed my mind. it’s wonderfully written, and there’s some extremely sensual moments that were a delight to read.

(a moment) by thisissirius. 1437 words, rated G. ao3. Ryan is shivering when they get back to the motel.

comments: Look, you can never have enough huddling for warmth! this is extremely sweet and fluffy.

and all the birds have flown by anarchetypal. 1575 words, rated M. ao3. Detective Madej knows Ryan Bergara is guilty, but there’s no evidence. Nothing will stick to him. He’s like smoke, and Shane can’t catch him.

Comments: I love a good serial killer au, and this is right up there. the narration is very different and unique, and I dig it.

and i'm puffing my chest, getting red in the face by pissedofsandwich. 6052 words, rated T. ao3. Or: Shane is definitely not at all jealous of how close Zack and Ryan are getting during the making of Sports Conspiracies. Except that he is.

Comments: I love jealous Shane, and I love Zack Evans, and this fic has a multitude of both. the ending is fantastic.

Back to You by punk_rock_yuppie. 6168 words, rated T. ao3 & tumblr. Shane wakes up and knows immediately that something is wrong.

Comments: this fic punched me in the heart. it’s a little bit angsty and a little bit bittersweet and extremely good.

Be Your Teenage Dream Tonight by hapakitsune. 4203 words, rated E. ao3. Shane wears a cheerleader outfit for #content and things get weird.

Comments: have you ever wondered if there was smut involving That cheerleader outfit? I’m here to tell you that yes, there is, and it is amazing.

but still let me tell you that i love who you are by BooyahFordhamYacht. 1136 words, rated G. ao3. Or, five voicemails from Ryan that Shane refuses to delete.

Comments: I’m a sucker for 5+1 style fics, and the concept of this one is honestly adorable.

cat(astrophe) by ElasticElla. 3218 words, rated T. ao3 & tumblr. “She’s hideous. And she doesn’t blink,” Ryan says, and just to spite him, the cat looks up and slowly blinks.

Comments: this fic is absolutely adorable. not only does Ella write the boys super well, but she also perfectly nails the mannerisms of a cat.

City of Angels by carrieonfighting. 2765 words, rated T. ao3. Alternatively, two dorks skip work and go to the beach and don't even realise it's a date.

Comments: I’m a sucker for little slice of life fics, and this is absolutely wonderful. It also makes me want to move to Los Angeles.

Coffee by YogurtTime. 2628 words, rated T. ao3 & tumblr. "Sometimes Shane taps a set of fingers against his hip to get him to move; there’s no time for words when you’re clocking eight orders every five minutes between 7 and 10 A.M even if the touch lingers and Ryan feels the touch burn until the end of his shift."

Comments: Look y’all, I’m also sucker for coffee shop AUs and this one is perfect. their dynamic is complicated and feels super natural, and the ending is very soft.

Collateral Damage by istie. 5801 words, rated E. ao3 & tumblr. Shane learns to walk in heels for a video - not just walk in them, but murder strut. Ryan doesn't want to admit he's into it, but ... he's really, really into it.

Comments: so y’all know that video about Shane walking in heels? this fic came first. it is hilarious and smutty and perfectly characterized, and comes complete with a cake recipe!

didn't know that i was starving (til i tasted you) by abovetheruins. 5289 words, rated E. ao3. He was never like this, before. He’d always had the hunger under control, didn’t need to feed often or much at all unless he had gone too long without. Food sustained him just as well, though it never did quite sate that itch, the craving for skin and sweat, breath and heat.

Comments: I didn’t know that I needed incubus Ryan until this fic, but not only is it quite hot, it’s also surprisingly sweet and domestic!

First Anniversary. 1750 words, rated G. ao3. Shane's distracted, it's their first anniversary and Ryan doesn't even seem to remember.

Comments: This fic has been orphaned on ao3, but it’s very sweet, and I love the anniversary gifts!

first, i have to be alone with you by alvaughn. 2144 words, rated M. ao3. Shane’s surprised Ryan hasn’t noticed.

Comments: Shane discovers Ryan’s choking kink and I am very into it.

From a Kiss to a Thrill by punk_rock_yuppie. 1602 words, rated M. ao3 & tumblr. He’s sculpted and fit and the fact that he can throw Shane around like it’s nothing is just fucking great.

Comments: Did someone say size kink? The dirty talk in this is blistering.

fuck you (Can I Have This Dance?) by punk_rock_yuppie. 2565 words, rated E. ao3 & tumblr. It starts in a bathroom and ends in Ryan's bed.

Comments: This is smut, pure and simple, folks. Very, very good smut. I won’t be able to listen to a certain Nine Inch Nails song again without thinking of it.

ghosts can’t pick up power drills (probably) by anarchetypal. 1193 words, rated M. ao3. “What you’re suggesting is that we have sex in the exact spot where a dude was once brutally murdered with a power drill. That is what you’re suggesting to me right now.”

Comments: there is some a+ banter in this, and it’s a good fun fic!

he shoots, he scores by ElasticElla. 2417 words, rated M. ao3 & tumblr. If it wasn’t for basketball, he wouldn’t know exactly how good Ryan looks after scoring the winning point.

Comments: this fic was a present for me, and what a marvelous present. Shane fawning over how Ryan looks playing basketball, plus frottage? it’s truly wonderful.

Hold Your Breath, It Gets Better by beethechange. 10297 words, rated E. ao3. Comments and summary: Essentially, Shane discovers Ryan’s anal beads. Shenanigans ensue. Very well-written, ludicrously hot shenanigans.

Honey. 2472 words, rated M. ao3. Alternatively: Ryan Bergara seizes the moment.

Comments: another orphaned fic. One of the tags on this is ‘sensuality’ and honestly, what an accurate tag. The first kiss in this is a+.

Hot Scary Summer by thewindupbird. 11626 words, rated E. ao3. The boys hunt some ghosts, make some impulsive choices, and try their best to sort out what it means to get to the heart of this thing.

Comments: The way this author writes kills me. The details, how thoroughly they get into both of their heads, the analysis of their relationship, it’s all so damn good.

I love your bones (series) by thewindupbird. 32,357 words across three works, rated E. ao3.

Comments: the precursors to Maelstrom, these fics are bittersweet and beautiful and painful, all in the best way possible.

if we’re gonna do this, we gotta do it now by floatingonthelehigh. 3331 words, rated T. ao3. Shane gets Ryan to come to an old abandoned house with him. One of them, and you'll never guess who, gets more than a little freaked out. Featuring: pure terror! confessions of love! and a somewhat-terrifying framed photograph of a woman!

Comments: this is such a cute fic, with an exceptionally soft Shane just wanting to be alone with Ryan. it’s so fluffy.

if you believe in magic by abovetheruins. 2908 words, rated E. ao3. Ryan has this theory – just the one, because it’s the only one that makes sense. Not that it actually does make sense, because… well, it doesn’t. Shane will say that it doesn’t, anyway. He’ll say that it’s ridiculous, that it’s illogical, that the only reason it exists in the first place is because it strokes Ryan’s ego, and hey, he’s not wrong.

Comments: this is a last minute addition, because I read it last night and my brain just kinda shouted hot damn the entire time.

if you love me, come clean by juniperProse. 765 words, rated T. ao3. Four times Ryan felt absolutely in love with Shane Madej, and one time he (accidentally) told him so.

Comments: I have a soft heart and fluff makes me happy, so this definitely made me happy.

i’ll hold your hand (but only if you want me to) by cactsu. 4466 words, rated E. ao3. (basically based on the ‘I’m pretending to be your bf because you looked VERY uncomfortable with that person at the bar hitting on you’ prompt)

Comments: Look, I’m a big fan of that trope, so I really enjoyed this!

i'll tell you about the magic (it'll free your soul) (series) by punk_rock_yuppie. 18260 words across three works, rated E. ao3. A variety of magical creatures inhabit the earth: werewolves, sirens, and faeries, oh my! The LA Buzzfeed office is chockful of these creatures; here are some of the shenanigans they get up to.

Comments: Features telepath Ryan, demon Shane and some delightful BuzzFeed shenanigans!

I’m Gonna Keep You in Love with Me (for a While) by beethechange. 21847 words, rated E. ao3. Comments and summary: Every fandom needs a married in Vegas fic. This is that fic for the Unsolved fandom. It’s one of the best things I’ve ever read. Bee writes developing relationships like no one else.

i’m lost without you by bodhirookes. 7213 words, rated M. ao3. Ryan's weekend long Star Wars marathon gets interrupted when Shane starts throwing rocks at his window, and it only gets better from there. As in, lots of boys crying and having life-affirming sex and Jake Bergara kicking ass and taking names better.

Comments: There seem to be surprisingly few high school aus in this fandom, but this one is A+. It’s perfectly sweet and nostalgic.

In These Frozen and Silents Nights by beethechange. 25257 words. ao3 & tumblr. Planning a shoot at a remote cabin in Vermont the week before Christmas wasn't Ryan’s best-ever idea. Taking a leisurely walk in a blizzard wasn't Shane’s. Scrap the ep, there’s a new plan: survive the storm, stay warm, try not to kill each other, and figure some shit out along the way.

Comments: If you love Shyan in general or snowed-in fics in particular, you need to do yourself a favor and read this. The characterization is nothing less than perfect, it made me laugh, it gave me emotions... this fic is essentially perfect. The comment I left on it is embarassingly long and rambling.

it started like this by sky_somedays. 2465 words, rated T. ao3. Shane thinks that if he can just pin down when it started, maybe he can do something about it. Think himself out of it, somehow. Understand the problem to solve the problem.

Comments: this fic feels like a series of vignettes, documenting some moments in their friendship/relationship, and the writing style is fantastic.

keep you like an oath by spoopyy. 11850 words, not rated. ao3. "I'm in love with you," Ryan says, desperate.

"No, you're in love with the views."

Comments: Fake relationships and couples getting handcuffed together for 24 hours, with a dash of angst? What’s not to love?

Maelstrom by thewindupbird. 40433 words, rated M. ao3. Here’s the thing about driving halfway across the country to see someone. You can’t really deny, after that, that you’re pretty much head over heels for them.

Comments: I can’t put my feelings about this fic into proper words. Please just know that it’s probably one of the best things I’ve ever read, and that’s including published works.

Maple Close (series). 5450 words across three fics, rated E. ao3.

Comments: an orphaned series, but the author is absolutely amazing. This series is about Shane and Ryan growing up together, and it’s beautiful, and the nostalgia is utterly magnificent. like childhood friends? how can you go wrong?

Missed by ricky_goldsworth. 547 words, rated T. ao3. Aren't you tired every day? / 'Cause I run through your brain / Hold me down, keep me safe

Comments: the opening line of this fic is one of the most beautiful sentences I’ve ever read, and the whole thing is utterly gorgeous.

naked love (don’t you dress it up) by abovetheruins. 5107 words, rated M. ao3 & tumblr.

Comments and summary: The summary is a bit long for this post, but essentially, Ryan finds out that Shane likes to walk around his apartment naked. Wonderful shenanigans ensure. The fic is truly a delight.

Netflix by YogurtTime. 958 words, rated M. ao3 & tumblr. "A lot of people liked great movies. None of those people were Shane."

Comments: The prose in this is super unique, and the way they bond over movies is lovely.

oblivion by rocketshiptospace. 2546 words, rated G. ao3. “So, how long have you and Shane been dating?” Jen asks.

Comments: this is so damn fluffy in the best way possible and features a marvelous cameo from Jen. It’s adorable.

one, two, three by adelaidebabe. 3957 words. ao3. ao3. Shane's a dancer with a dance competition the next day. Ryan's still a ghost hunter. The theater may or may not be haunted. (It's not.)

Comments: I love dancer!Shane, and we all know that I love meet-cutes, so this is perfect for both of those.

only a week by Hugabug. 663 words, rated G. ao3 & tumblr. How lucky I am, that I have something that makes saying goodbye oh so very painful.

Comments: this fic is so sweet and cute, dear god. Give me all the fluff.

our hopes and expectations, black holes and revelations by ElasticElla. 3442 words, rated T. ao3 & tumblr. Live interviewing always carries an inherent risk. A stupid, unnecessary risk if you asked Ryan. May the record show, that it was in fact Shane’s brilliant idea to do a live video q&a.

Comments: I love everything Ella writes, and this is no exception. the kiss towards the end of this fic is amazing and the banter back and forth is so good.

Por Favor, Sweetheart by carrieonfighting. 759 words, rated T. ao3. Two dorks raise a baby and don't even realise they're doing it together until it's too late.

Comments: I normally don’t like kid!fic very much but good god, this thing is utterly beautiful. It made me bawl.

Shut Me Up by YogurtTime. 6274 words, rated E. ao3. "You never seem to shut up when I'm touching you." Shane and Ryan play a very very terribly executed rendition of the quiet game.

Comments: This fic is incredibly NSFW and is absolutely amazing. And the ending made me burst out into hysterical laughter.

snowed in. 1424 words, rated E. ao3.

Comments: The ‘being snowed in together’ trope is one of my favorites, and this was actually written for a prompt I left at the kink meme, so I was guaranteed to love it.

the calm before crescendo by abovetheruins. 6731 words, rated M. ao3. Alternate title: 5 times Shane Madej was flustered by Ryan Bergara, and 1 time he finally did something about it.

Comments: I’m just such a damn sucker for pining Shane. The sequel to this fic (lights and thunder) is also magnificent.

The Denial Twist by beethechange. 35108 words, rated E. ao3. Or, the one where Shane and Ryan have some really weird dreams and perhaps, eventually, some sex.

Summary: One of my top five favorites in the fandom. The concept is a+, and this fic made me burst out into cackling laughter multiple times. Truly a delight.

The Devil Went Down to Denton by ricky_goldsworth. 27771 words as of the time of this list, still ongoing. rated M. ao3. A supernatural punk rock story about boys in bands, their immortal souls, and poor decisions made therein.

Comments: I love this fic. It’s got found family, pulp realism, demon Shane and boys in a punk band, and Gray writes Zack so well that I fell in love with him.

the serial killer ryan quartet (series) by ElasticElla. 10,263 words across four fics, rated E. ao3 & tumblr.

Comments: this series is exactly what it says on the tin and it is fantastic, but also extremely intense, so please mind the tags!

thin ice by rocketshiptospace. 1529 words, rated G. ao3. Or, the boys end up frozen and wet after a disasterous shoot in the woods. Shane helps Ryan get warm again.

Comments: I fucking love huddling for warmth, and this is Perfect.

Things That Go Bump in the Night (and 7 till 12 at weekends) by HoopyFrood. 4558 words, rated G. ao3. Shane works at a Haunted House. Ryan is Ryan. Things go about as well as you'd imagine.

Comments: if y’all like meet-cute fic, then boy do I have the fic for you. this was one of the first fics I read in the fandom and it is adorable.

tongues on electric sockets by ElasticElla. 1702 words, rated T. ao3 & tumblr. It’s been not-raining over the dog park for eight weeks now. All of the council members say to ignore it, the unknown will fix it when they deign to.

Comments: sort of a WTNV fusion, this fic is super unique and atmospheric and spooky.

Untitled Tumblr Fic by en-sam-malas. 908 words, rated G (I think), tumblr. Written for the prompt Shyan and drunken confessions.

Comments: Have I ever mentioned how much I love love confessions? This is fluffy and sweet and I adore it.

Untitled Tumblr Fic by en-sam-malas. 714 words, rated G. tumblr. Comments: there’s lots of hand-holding and fluff here, and it made me cry from joy.

Untitled Tumblr Fic by theawfuledges. 934 words. tumblr. Written for the prompt ‘making out in the forest on the bigfoot hunt because too much beer’.

Comments: look, I just love fics that involve making out, and this is genuinely perfect.

Vampire by YogurtTime. 1022 words, rated E, ao3 & tumblr. "The first time Ryan had kissed him, he’d tasted the murder on Ryan’s tongue."

Comments: I’m a simple person: I love vampire aus, and this is a beautifully gory, perfect one.

waiting here for catastrophe by anarchetypal. 2140 words, rated M. ao3. “Ryan.” Shane breaks off and sits down again, slides his chair closer to Ryan’s, stares him down. “God, fuck, look at me, okay, I did this. I did this, this is my case, this is mine, everything you’re talking about—”

Comments: another serial killer au, this time with a dash of humor! the dialogue in this is on point, and it’s a really interesting variation on the au!

walking in the wind. 2853 words, rated M. ao3. In which Shane and Ryan go on a hundred dates and fall in love along the way.

Comments: I love everything about this fic. The concept is A+ and the ending made me cry in the best possible way.

wasted on you by cursingcursive. 1950 words, rated M. ao3. there's a reason shane loves when ryan wears his clothes.

Comments: look, I just love clothes sharing so goddamn much. I can’t help it.

wear it well by ElasticElla. 2171 words, rated T. ao3. Summary & comments: this is basically a serial killer au with clothes sharing. Obviously I loved it.

what’s the point of this again? by touchinghearts. 9317 words, rated T. ao3. When Ryan invites Shane back for a holiday week to meet his family during a big reunion, it doesn’t even occur to Shane that it could be a big deal.

Comments: I love family fics, and oh boy does this deliver. Ryan’s family is such a delight in this, and seeing Shane become part of the family made my heart skip a beat.

YELLOW SQUARE by dejavu. 15915 words, rated M. ao3. (Or; Ryan and Shane spend four nights in one haunted house—four nights twisting closer to either each other, or insanity)

Comments: this fic is absolutely incredible. the suspense is built up really well, the chemistry is incredible, and the first kiss stopped my heart.

you can take off your skin in the cannibal glow by ElasticElla. 3172 words, rated E. ao3 & tumblr. Ryan refuses to believe it at first, despite the mounting evidence.

Comments: another vampire Ryan fic and per usual, the banter is spot-on.

Ryan/Shane/Zack

i'd love to hold you close, tonight and always by ElasticElla. 1304 words, rated E. ao3 & tumblr. Or: sometimes Ryan just really needs to get fucked.

Comment: Ella is a gift. the fact I managed to write a coherent comment about this fic is a miracle, because it fried my brain. it continues to fry my brain when I go back and revisit it.

Ryan/Steven

I Stop Breathing when You Smile by punk_rock_yuppie. 2135 words, rated G. ao3 & tumblr. Ryan unwittingly falls in love with Steven's smile.

Comments: I am contractually obliged to fall in love with a rarepair in every fandom I join, and here’s one example. This fic is absolutely fluffy and so damn sweet.

Ryan/Zack

building up that anticipa- by ElasticElla. 666 words, rated M. ao3. “What kinda favor would you like then?” Zack asks, eyes dragging down in a way that makes Ryan wanna toss all his morals out the window.

Comments: the frat boy au of my dreams that managed to wreck me in under 700 words.

Shane/Steven

after the storm (your body feels so warm) by cathect. 1394 words. rated G. ao3. or, the one where Steven is afraid of thunderstorms.

Comments: I’m in love with this fic and how soft and sweet it is.

#buzzfeed unclean #shyanlibrary #fanfic writers appreciation day #shyan #skeptic believer #mine #mine: masterlist #i was going to make another one of these for worth it but jesus this took forever #so here's this!#this also could have been way longer if i included every one of Ella and Erin's fics #but i had to show a lil bit of restraint

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studiobeebo · 6 years

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Happy Birthday (Shinsou Hitoshi x Reader)

uhhhhhhh i would die for shinsou and he deserves the best birthday in the entire world js

Sleepless nights had become more common than nights when he could sleep for Shinsou Hitoshi.

Sometimes this was a good thing as he would have time to stay up and work on homework or just relax, maybe if he was really restless go out for a short walk, but there were also times where those restless nights weren’t so fun. There were times when all he wanted was to sleep, to wash away all the crap that had built up to amount for one horrible day and start fresh the next day, but when he couldn’t sleep, it felt like all those thoughts and feelings carried on with him to the following day.

It was a pretty bad cycle, in his opinion, and he wanted nothing more but to put a stop to it somehow, but lately there hadn’t been much that could help. He was often left tossing and turning in an annoyed attempt to get comfortable or getting up twenty times to get a glass of water or just stretch his legs, but nothing could put him to sleep so he was left to stare at the screen of his phone, which was probably way too bright to be healthy for his eyes, but his phone was his only solace. Or rather, you were his only solace.

Sometimes he felt guilty texting you at early hours of the morning, knowing you were probably just as sleepy as he was, so he’d sit there with a message typed out but end up just staring at it for a few minutes before deleting it. He didn’t want to wake you up just for him, after all, that would be selfish. Besides, the last thing he wanted to do was something that would turn you away from him.

His feelings for you weren’t really...intentional, but then again, no crush ever was. It started out small, and to be honest he was kind of suspicious in regards to how friendly you were to him, introducing yourself within the first few days of his time at UA and going on to say ‘Good morning!’ or a similar small greeting the following days. Once he realized you weren’t just talking to him out of pity, surely hearing the little rumors here or there regarding his quirk, he started to return the favor, starting with small talk and moving on to a point where the two of you would eat lunch together almost every day. It was nice to have someone to talk to after all, especially since you didn’t seem to mind his sarcastic and sometimes cynical sense of speaking and would often add your own witty quips that got even him to smile. Before he knew it, seeing you everyday became a motivator in his life, especially after you spoke so encouragingly to him about following his dreams to become a hero. ‘Puppy love’, you could call it, as it could surely be seen as childish to feel such strong feelings towards someone after only a few months, but hey, you can’t help what your heart longs for.

The quiet ‘buzz’ caused by the vibration coming from his phone brought him out of his stupor, and for a moment he was a bit annoyed since he knew he was slowly falling asleep, no doubt thinking of you, but seeing that the message was actually from you soothed that irritation, and when he actually read the message, he felt like an idiot for how warm his cheeks became and he had to bite his cheek to keep himself from smiling just as stupidly as he read it over a second time.

‘i’m guessing ur awake anyways so hopefully i’m the first to say happy birthday Hitoshi!!!!’

The following burst of different birthday themed emojis was cute, in his opinion, and the last few hearts revitalized the itch he’d been suppressing to just ask you out already and get it over with. His thumbs danced over the keyboard awkwardly as he tried to think of what to say, knowing a simple ‘thanks’ would be too little but ‘hey, would you date me if I asked?’ would be way too much, at least for him. Before he had the chance to actually say something in response, however, the little typing bubble popped up on his screen before he received another message from you.

‘also I haven’t been able to get you a gift yet, but I promise it won’t be too late!’

The idea that you even felt the need to get him a gift was ridiculous. After all, with you around, what more could he ask for? A moment passed and he began typing out a response of his own, a smile still on his face as he pressed send.

‘here I thought we were friends, guess I’m just gonna have a lonely sad birthday’

The quickness of your text back made him feel a sense of pride or maybe just happiness to have your attention on him, but when he actually read your message, his smile dropped only to be replaced by a look of shock.

‘hey who said it had to be lonely??? we should go get something to eat after school tomorrow! I’ll pay of course birthday boy’

If the mention of going out to eat with you alone wasn’t enough to make his heart jump out of his chest, the little kissy face emoji surely was and he could not believe how much a tiny stupid little digital drawing could make his heart race. There’s no way that would be considered a date, right? It was just a gift, after all, but in any other circumstances…

‘obvi we don’t have to though’

A message, and then moments later, yet another one.

‘sorry if that’s like weird or something’

Were you...nervous? ‘No way’, he told himself, thinking there was no possible way someone like you could feel nervous around someone like him. He felt nervous every time he opened his mouth around just because of how he felt though, so maybe there was some hope that you felt similarly. Still, even with his heart and mind racing he couldn’t just leave you without an answer, so he typed out a response before hesitantly hitting send, thanking whatever gods that were out there that you hadn’t asked this in person because his voice surely would have been shaking if he had to respond to your request vocally, but thankfully if he worded things right you wouldn’t be able to tell just how anxious he was.

‘not weird at all, that sounds good actually’

If only he knew that the anxious breath he took in was matched to a relieved one you let out upon receiving such a message, thanking the heavens that you hadn’t just ruined the chance you had been building up to get to for weeks upon recognizing you “slight” crush on your purple haired hero as your thumbs typed quickly with excitement.

‘awesome sounds like a plan!!!!! i should probably be gettin to sleep tho, u should too nerd!’

That was enough to bring a soft smile to his face again, the endearing ‘insult’ never failing to make him happy as he texted you his ‘good night’ message before placing his phone down on his bedside table. After sitting up for a moment he laid back down, one arm draped over his eyes as he smiled to himself like the love struck loser he was. Oh, what a ‘happy’ birthday it was, and it had only just begun.

#i love this boy so so much yall #mha #mha imagine #my hero academia #bnha #boku no hero academia #shinsou hitoshi #shinsou hitoshi x reader

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sunshinechii-scenarios · 6 years

Text

Photoshoot

HI, it’s so great to be back with some scenarios! I am such a busy bee, it sucks but you guys should REALLY request some scenarios!! That way I can branch out and write for more members/idols! Lastly, the beginning of this scenario is rough but I promise it gets better haha -Sunni

✿ Stray Kids’ Hyunjin x Female!Reader ✿ Fluff ✿ Highschool!AU ✿ 1.4k words ✿ Not requested ✿ Written by Sunni

Spring had sprung early. The air had that wonderfully refreshing scent; like sunshine and green things growing. Hyunjin walked quietly next to you after school, the two of you were practically next-door neighbors. He was gazing up at the trees and you were taking deep breaths, appreciating the wonderful weather. The sunshine made his hair look lighter, you noticed. And he looked taller, somehow.

Hyunjin slid his school jacket off his shoulder and stuffed it into his backpack. “Aren’t you hot?”

“Kind of,” you replied. “But this is the kind of sunshine I’ve been waitinig for!” You spun around, almost hitting HyunJin. He started laughing and threatened to push you into a nearby puddle. “All the girls are gonna start wearing skirts and shorts,” you sighed.

Hyunjin looked up at you, a look of wonder on his face. “Why does that matter?”

You gripped the straps on your backpack. “I’ll have to try harder to look nice,” you whispered, mostly to yourself.

Hyunjin poked your arm. “You always look nice,” he mumbled. You felt the butterflies in your stomach. Hyunjin would only ever talk like that if the two of you were alone. He was also much more likely to do so in the mornings. Probably because he wasn’t even fully awake yet. Either way, it made you question what you were to him.

Everyone in school would tease the two of you, saying that you guys were a couple without even realizing it. There were even girls that would ask you whether it was okay to ask Hyunjin out and you would always be so confused. Why did people always have to make it so difficult to be friends with the opposite gender?

Of course you liked Hyunjin. How could anyone not? He was kind of a prince. And that adorable little beauty mark under his eye? Ugh, he was practically a model already.

But that meant nothing. If it wasn’t mutual, then the two of you could just remain friends. You were mature enough to move past that. But it was times like this, when Hyunjin would compliment you in a not-so-casual way and stare at you for a while. The two of you would eventually move on in conversation and there would be no more of that.

It was no different this time. “Hey, Y/N, I have an idea!” You looked over at Hyunjin, his bright smile stealing away all of your attention.

“What?”

“I’ll go home to get my camera! You can go home, change, and we can meet for a photoshoot!”

You smiled at the idea. Hyunjin loved to take pictures, especially with pretty flowers or scenes of nature in the background. “Deal,” you agreed.

Hyunjin P.O.V

Hyunjin sat on a bench in Hongdae, people-watching and waiting for you. The cherry blossoms were still in bloom and people flooded the park to see them. The beautiful weather seemed to have brought everyone in Korea here. It would be hard to get professional-looking photos but it wasn’t like he was a professional anyways.

He spotted you walking towards him. It was practically a scene out of a movie. Cherry blossom petals were falling down, your hair was blowing softly in the breeze, and you were already giving Hyunjin a small smile. The boy blushed at your baby blue blouse that exposed your shoulders and the black skinny jeans your wore. You were also wearing your favorite pair of white sneakers. It was times like these that Hyunjin realized how mature and older you could look without your school uniform on. Hyunjin looked down at himself. Denim jacket, white t-shirt, his black ripped jeans. The two of you kind of sort of matched. He couldn’t hide the smile that had formed when you finally reached him.

“Sorry I’m late!”

“No worries! There’s so many people here!” Hyunjin was itching to compliment you. But he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, either, so he kept his thoughts to himself. Sometimes, Hyunjin forgot to filter his thoughts and he would blurt them out. He was legitimately terrified that one day, he would just accidentally admit how fast you could make his heart beat. Or how if he started to get really frustrated with his dancing or inability to do so, rather, he would think of you and suddenly have the strength to keep going on. Hyunjin wanted to succeed so that he could have the confidence to show you his abilities. He wanted to impress you.

But for now, Hyunjin would continue to admire you as a friend. “Let’s start over there, yeah?” he proposed. You nodded and practically skipped over to a rock underneath one of the cherry blossom trees. Without him even asking, you sat on the rock. Hyunjin immediately raised the camera and you covered your face. “Hey, Y/N!”

“Not my face!”

“What kind of photoshoot are we supposed to have then?!”

“Of the scenery, silly!” You patted the spot next to you on the rock. Just to satisfy you, Hyunjin told himself he would sit for now. But he would definitely get pictures of you at some point. Whether you realized it or not. Besides, candid pictures always come out great.

The two of you walked around, soaking in the newly-found sunshine. Hyunjin took pictures of a fountain in the middle of the park, of a little child with a melting ice cream cone, and of course plenty of the cherry blossoms. Thankfully, you allowed some shots of your hands gently brushing the flowers or grabbing for one just out of reach.

Hyunjin spotted a narrow bridge up ahead. “Y/N, let’s take pictures on the bridge,” he suggested. He was rewarded with a dazzling smile from you as you practically skipped ahead to get to the bridge. There weren’t many people crossing at the time and Hyunjin took his chance. He took pictures of your silhouette from behind and continued to when you leaned over the railing on your tippy toes. You were too distracted by the fish in the pond to notice that Hyunjin had bent down, getting a better angle of you smiling down at the body of water. He turned the camera to the continuous shot option and held down the button as you finally turned to try to find him. Hyunjin captured every second as you spotted him, smiled, then switched to a shocked expression when you realized what he had been doing.

Hyunjin was already cracking up as you stormed over. “Hey! No fair!” you whined. Hyunjin held the camera behind his back and stood up straight.

“Oh, come on, candid shots are always great!”

You frowned at him, obviously doubtful. Attempting to reach behind his back, you stepped closer. Hyunjin stepped back. “Not ones of me!”

“How would you know? They’re candid,” Hyunjin stressed. He leaned towards you and you stared him right in the eyes. He was smirking but you didn’t look too happy.

“Why do you even want photos of me?”

Hyunjin searched for the right words. But in the moment, looking into your expectant eyes, Hyunjin snapped. He placed his right hand on your shoulder. He looked straight into your eyes and said, with confidence, “Because you’re beautiful.”

Your face softened. Hyunjin wasn’t smiling. Neither were you. The both of you were aware that he was dead serious. Suddenly, you took a step closer but Hyunjin kept his hand where it was.

“And?” you said. Hyunjin had to ask himself if you were being sarcastic. He decided you weren’t.

“And...I kind of like you,” Hyunjin whispered. He meant to be confident in this moment. When he was finally trying to tell you how he felt. How he would begin to smile at the sight of you before he even realized he was doing so. How he was loudest and happiest around you. How if he woke up dreading school, thinking of seeing you made him actually want to go. But all that came out of his mouth was a whisper. Hyunjin wanted to kick himself for it.

“I like you, too, Hyunjin,” you started. You arms slipped around his waist and Hyunjin’s breath caught. “But I can’t let you do this.”

That didn’t sound right. Hyunjin furrowed his brow. “Wait, what?” And suddenly, you were snatching Hyunjin’s camera out of the hand behind his back and running away. Hyunjin shook his head, finally waking up to reality. “Hey!” he yelled. You were practically off the bridge by now, deleting every photo he had taken of you. Hyunjin began to run after you, feeling lost yet loved and exasperated all at the same time. Only you could manage to do this to him.

Please don’t claim this as your own and please don’t do anything with it without my permission. If you don’t want it happening to you, don’t do it to others.

#stray kids #hyunjin #jyp #stray kids scenarios #stray kids x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids fluff #hyunjin x you #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin fluff #sunni

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sabrinaleethings · 6 years

Text

Writer’s Block: The Good, the Bad and the Ugly

Howdy internet!

I haven’t always been a writer, in fact only within the past few years I’ve started doubling down and taking writing seriously.

I went to college for illustration back in 2015, and it was then I hit my first mental block when it came to artistic inspiration. It sucked! I remember distinctly two separate pieces I had to do where I couldn’t for the life of me get the pencil on my sketchbook, and ended up handing in my assignments late because I couldn’t for the life of me get through whatever artistic block I was struck in.

That leads me to now- artist block and writers block varies from person to person. Sometimes mental health issues like depression or anxiety causes people to avoid writing (or drawing etc.) - and sometimes make it physically impossible get anything done. If you know that this is one of the main factors in keeping you from doing what you want to do, please talk to someone! Seek help from someone you trust, whether it be a friend, your family, or even a doctor!

Now, if there’s more to your story (pun fully intended) and somehow you’re finding yourself stuck in the middle of a scene or a random dialogue, or terrified to write very beginning of your piece, I’ve got a few tips and tricks I use to bust through the mental wall and create some kick-ass products!

Let’s do this!

Let’s Start at the Beginning, shall we?

So, before you’ve even started anything. Let’s say your given a task or you have the itch to write- you know the one where your hands are BEGGING you to type something, or write something, but you just....can’t?

Happens to me all the freaking time. Here’s what I do:

If I sit down somewhere to type or write and my mind is like a huge bowl of pudding, I move my booty.

Sometimes changing your work space, or even the physical location of your body can clear up some of the gunk in your brain.

Instead of sitting in your bed (like I usually do) move to your desk, take a notebook outside on your porch, sit on the couch (with the TV turned off), go to your local library or bookstore, become a hermit in a cafe somewhere- you’d be surprised at how well this works!

Skim through some of your favorite books for inspiration

This gets your brain moving in a “writers” kind-of way!

I like to flip through my Maggie Stiefvater books and read random scenes, or (my favorite) read some poetry (My go-to being “Our Numbered Days” by Neil Hilborn)

Check out some art or fanart from your favorite fandoms or artists!

Now, don’t let this be your excuse to procrastinate and get stuck on tumblr for hours on end (*cough cough* @me)

The key here is to yes, scroll through tumblr artists, instagram drawings, or even your favorite art book, BUT while doing this, let your mind wander. Imagine your own scenes or scenarios in your head while you do so-you’d be surprised how easy it is to clear the clutter in your head when you let yourself zone out and relax!

Now, the ugly sorta trick that I do sometimes (even though it’s gonna sound awful).

Just do it. *Insert Shia LaBeouf*

Put your hand to the paper, put your fingers on the keys, turn on your audio recording device and just bullshit something.

If I’m sitting at my computer with severe mental block about a scene I’m writing, and I can’t seem to break the funk, I just start typing something. Alot of the time it’s a “what would happen if...” and I write it. Usually it begins like a rusty machine, rough and crappy, but once you get your fingers moving and your thoughts begin to just lay themselves down on the paper or on the screen, most of the time your good to go and the mental block is gonzo!

White Space Anxiety

Whatchu talking about, Sabrina? Wellllll have you ever got a new notebook and you just, cant wait to start writing something in it, but suddenly nothing seems worthy to be written down? Have you ever opened a new word or google docs document and suddenly your fingers forgot how to word?

Lots of peeps, (me included) suffer from this type of writer’s anxiety and it prevents us from actually writing anything- total writer’s block!

Whelp let me help with what I’ve found that works:

Skip the first page!

If you got yourself a fancy new leather bound, engraved, blessed journal, or a fresh new staple’s notebook with the fancy cloth cover, just flip past the first page (the one where a bookplate or “title page” would go-) and start from page 2 or on.(If you’re super desperate like me, start five or six pages in!) By doing so, you’re tricking your brain that you’ve already written in said journal and most of the anxiety about making things “perfect” go away!

If your typing on a document, turn the font to like, a hundred!

I sometimes do this if I feel I keep focusing on the quantity of words I’m able to pump out on the first page, rather than what I should be writing.

By super pumping up that font size, you’ll fill the first few pages faster and almost immediately, and the happy hormones in your brain are gonna be like, “yes! you’re writing, good job-keep going!”

Once you’ve written like six or seven pages (maybe more depending if you went for the 150 pt font) reset the size back to normal when you feel like stopping or you feel like you’re on a roll, and voila! You’re on your way to a productive (and self-satisfying) day!

Okay, now that you’ve gotten at least something written and you find yourself in the middle of an idea or scene and suddenly ... dun dun dun You’re mind is drawing a blank. Writer’s block has fully set itself inside your noggin right in the middle of all your hard work, what do you do now!?

Writer’s Block Right in the Dang Middle

It sucks, and it happens.

Sometimes if you’ve been working a lot, and you’re not realizing how exhausted your mind actually is - it can feel like it turns off sometimes.

If you don’t have a strict deadline, and you’ve gotten a bunch done, sometimes taking a break is what you need. It sucks, because I know how much you want to write, but your mental health comes first and you deserve a break too!

Whether you just take a walk, or go grab some wine or juice, give your brain a break!

Do something other than writing- go stimulate other parts of your brain, come back, and see the difference!

Along the same line, if you do indeed have a deadline sneaking up on you and you’ve got yourself a bunch more to do but get stuck, try these things:

Take a short break.

Short meaning don’t spend hours and the rest of your day/night trolling through the internet or lose yourself neck deep in conspiracy theories on YouTube (I feel personally attacked here)

Save your work, get up from your spot, and leave the room if possible.

Leaving your room and physically moving your body, gets your blood pumping again and wakes you up subconsciously and that alone can help!

Drink water. H2O. Agua.

Sometimes, after I’ve been typing for what feels like forever, I don’t realize how much time passes, and suddenly realizes it’s been four hours and I haven’t had anything to eat/drink.

It’s easy to get dehydrated and as living beings on this place called Earth, we need water. Sometimes drinking a big glass of ice-cold refreshing water is just what your body needs to do its job! (Did I make you thirst? Good, drink some water! Take care of yourself!)

If you’re in the middle of a scene and can’t physically put into words what happens next:

Skip the scene!

Don’t stress yourself too badly on it if it’s not coming to you naturally. Move on to the next part in your piece, and start with a fresh idea! (You can always go back after, and finish/include the part you skipped!)

Re-read the last couple paragraphs you’ve written, and change up the last couple sentences (sometimes even paragraphs). Completely re-write them, or get rid of em!

Sometimes a writer’s block in the middle of the scene can quite possibly be your own novel or piece’s way of telling you that you’ve dug yourself into a little bit of a ditch and now you have to climb out of it. Meaning the way you’ve ended things in the previous sentences, don’t allow for a good, fluid transition into the next part of the scene.

Totally re-write the scene or idea that your working on!

I can’t tell you how many times I’ve deleted entire pages of crap that I could not continue to write, because I kept getting stuck.

Sometimes after fleshing out a scene or idea so perfectly, things become stale and unable to be continued simply because there’s something, some element or transitioning, just doesn’t work. Taking a great big hypothetical rubber eraser and getting rid of everything might just be the way to go!

More simple things to do if you find yourself with a writer’s block in the middle of your piece

Plan out what you’re going to write.

If you’re a ‘pantser’ (someone who writes without any, or very minimal planning beforehand) sometimes you need to plan your next moves - not only will it allow you to better flesh out your plot, but it can show you possible plot holes that you’re stuck in at the moment. It can also give you a very specific direction to move in if you know what happens next.

Change the music you’re listening to/ put on some tunes if your not!

Google “inspirational quotes for writers” ... trust me on this one.

Go make some food... and then come back quickly after!

*Make sure it isn’t a super carb-heavy or ‘thick’ food- you don’t wanna be sleepy afterwards!

And along with the previous point-brew some coffee or tea!

Curse. Heavily. Outloud.

Of course this all depends where you’re located.

And if you can’t curse, or don’t like to, sing loudly to yourself or yell random things out loud!

Ideas include: “Let it go, LET IT GO...” “I will write this fudgning piece of doo doo even if it kills me! You got this, you lovely, talented writer, JUST DO IT.”

In conclusion to this super long, probably-never-will-be-read-post- writer’s block happens, and it is something that can be overcome if you allow yourself to try something different!

Holy guacamole that was a long one- sorry about that.

Anything I’m missing? What have you tried that has actually worked? Let me know!

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mvssmallow · 7 years

Photo

Cloudy With A Chance

Part 19: …of storms (part II of II)

Masterlist

Of course he notices.

For weeks on end Hanbin sleeps right up against his left arm, hair tickling his shoulder and toes occasionally wriggling against his ankles. It gets annoying but it was also comforting in a way, just knowing Hanbin was there.

So when he starts waking up without the warm body squashed against his arm, the alarm bells begin ringing quietly in the distance.

But everyone is entitled to a bad day or a bad week. He doesn’t want to make Hanbin feel like some kind of failure for not being happy all the time, that was just unrealistic, and there’s no reason to make a big deal out of it.

He lets it go. For a few days. For a week. For a week and a half. But too many days pass where they sleep with a gulf between them and he starts waking up alone. He wants to fix it, whatever it is, but he knows it’ll only lead to a fight. What choice does he have now anyway? When Hanbin looks like he hasn’t slept properly in weeks and is just pale shell of his former self.

They eat breakfast as the sound system plays Fleetwood Mac’s greatest hits. It just makes everything even worse.

“You been okay? Keeping yourself occupied when I’m at work?” He asks casually, trying to ease them into the awkward conversation.

“Sometimes. I guess.”

“Are you sleeping okay?”

“Yeah. Sort of.” There’s a pause and a guilty look in his direction. “Did I wake you up in the middle of the night again? I’ll sleep of the couch or something. I guess I’m moving around too much.”

He knows Hanbin must have bad dreams judging by the way he frowns and grips the sheets in his sleep. By the time he’s jostled awake, Hanbin’s already settled down. Until the next time. And the time after that. He thought his heart could only hurt when it had been rejected in some romantic melodramatic way. He had no idea it could still ache when nobody was fighting or leaving.

“No, no no. Don’t do that. I can’t sleep properly without you next to me anymore. It’s actually annoying.” He says with a chuckle, hoping to lighten the mood.

Hanbin gives him a small smile. Maybe it works for a little while, he’ll take anything at this stage.

“Got anything planned for today?”

“Um, no. Not really. I might try to write some more. Or something…” Hanbin trails off, staring out their window with a faraway look on his face, mind going somewhere that no-one can ever follow.

He knows some things about Hanbin by now. He knows when to leave him alone and when to drag him kicking and screaming out of his misery. But he also knows that this time is different, that Hanbin’s nerves were brittle like glass and that there was something more to it, like an iceberg that stretched on for hundreds of miles underneath the surface. He can’t force this, it’d shatter into pieces and cut everything in sight. It makes him feel helpless. It drives him crazy.

“Well, if you get bored or need anything, you know you can just call me right?” He says, maybe too seriously. “I can just leave work if you want me to.”

Hanbin nods and hides his face behind the bugs bunny mug.

He doesn’t even want to go to work today. He had laid in bed this morning, staring at the ceiling and debating whether or not to call in sick. He doesn’t want to go fix cars, he just wants to stay here and fix this, whatever it is.

But he can’t. Not really. There were too many people relying on him to turn up, help out, supervise the new apprentice, deal with the picky customers. This is real adult life. This is what it feels like to be torn up inside.

The last strains of ‘Landslide’ plays as he’s standing in their doorway. Hanbin hands him the SpaceJam lunchbox and there’s a awkward pause before the hug. It felt all wrong. Since when did they ever pause like that nowadays?

“Call me anyway. Even if you’re not bored. Okay?”

Hanbin nods against his chest. “Okay.”

He wants to say something else but he knows he shouldn’t. Not like this. He doesn’t want it remembered with all this. What he doesn’t say in words he puts into their goodbye kiss. It’s longer, slower, softer than usual. He’s holding Hanbin’s face in his hands and he doesn’t realise he’s frowning until Hanbin pokes at it with a small smile.

“What’s up with you?”

“Nothing. Nothing.” He says. “Just gonna miss you, that’s all.”

“You’re still so dramatic.” Hanbin says with shake of his head. “I’ll be here when you get back.”

“You better be.”

He kisses Hanbin again, ignoring the quiet gasp of surprise before sinking into the tight hug with more relief that either of them should need.

He’ll fix this tonight.

****

Sometimes he thinks God abandoned him. Gave him an overly sensitive and defective brain then left him to fend for himself.

He watches Jiwon walk out their door to go to work and all he can think about is the irony of it all; that he should be so scared about the future when they were never even destined to have one.

By the time he hears the insistent knocks at the door, he knows for sure that all the Gods have definitely deserted him now.

“Hi mum.”

“Don’t you answer the phone anymore?” She asks accusingly.

He says nothing, just steps aside to let her in.

“Have you thought about what I said?” She asks, sitting at their dining table as he sets down a glass of water.

“Yes.”

“And?”

“I don’t know what you expect me to say. It’s not like you’re giving me any options.” He says bitterly.

She sighs before taking in the mess that litters their table: from the car magazines, to rap flyers, to catalogues for sound systems, to letters with their names on them.

“Jiwon. Is that his name?”

“Yes.”

“He lives here?”

“Yes.”

“What kind of mess did you get yourself into, Hanbin?” She says tiredly. “I thought you outgrew this phase.”

He can’t even think of an answer.

“Your father is back in a week. You’ve got a week to deal with all….this.” She continues calmly, tucking the letters underneath the magazines, as if it’d erase Jiwon’s existence. “And it’s the company fundraiser soon. You’re expected to come. Don’t forget.”

He looks at her bitterly. “I haven’t.”

She looks at him with sympathetic eyes. “We can’t always have what we want. You should know that by now. Do you really think it’ll go anywhere? Be anything? Is that what he promised you?”

He doesn’t have an answer for that either.

“Hanbin…..just…end it now. End it quickly. Before any more damage is done. If you really care for this boy, you’ll spare him of all this. Your world, your future, is not compatible with his. You know this. Boys his age will get over it and move on. They always do. How long as it even been? A month or two?”

“Six.” He says flatly.

She raises an eyebrow in surprise. “Well, I suppose it might take him some time to get over it then.”

He shuts down and can’t look at her anymore.

When she reaches over to squeeze his shoulder, he barely even feels it. “You think I’m being cruel. That I don’t understand. Well, you know I understand you more than anyone. But people like us…..once someone’s given us a plan, once we’ve done what they expect us to, they’ll never let us do what we want to. It’s just the way it is.”

She stands up then, gathers her coat and bag before kissing him on the cheek. “Answer your phone next time.”

It’s quiet again after she leaves. An eerie calmness washes over him. He knows this feeling-it’s his mind trying to protect him from all the rage and violence that’s buzzing around his body. He can feel both forces at once but he doesn’t really know which one to succumb to.

Rage.

Peace.

Rage.

Peace.

He stares at the glass of water on the table, fingers itching to pick it up, throw it against the wall, watch it shatter.

Rage, it is.

He walks out of the kitchen before he has the chance to destroy anything and goes into their bedroom instead, shutting the door with trembling hands and wishing he could shut out the world too.

And suddenly his entire life seems fake. Like a hologram that was glitching in and out of time. Everything taunts him; all those ideas he scribbles down for his book, all the appointments for Jiwon’s mic nights, all the plans and projects they dreamt of together. It was all a fool’s dream. What was he thinking this whole time? This wild idea to be a writer and run away with Jiwon? It was just a stupid immature dream. It’s time to get real.

His research, his drawings, his diaries, his notes….he tips them all into a box and hides them in the back of their wardrobe. He turns on his laptop and scrolls through all fifteen chapters of his book. He can barely recognise his own writing. What was the point of writing it now anyway? He’ll never get the chance to finish it.

He hits delete.

Like it never even happened.

****

He’s elbow deep in an engine when Hanbin’s name flashes on his phone.

“Hey. You okay?”

“Hi.”

“I can’t hear you properly. Are you outside or something?”

“Yeah.”

He doesn’t know what it is but his heart races with anxiety. “Where are you?”

“Outside.”

“Where?”

“At the beach.”

“The beach? What are you doing down there? It’s freezing.”

“I don’t know. I was just driving and I ended up here.”

Hanbin’s voice sounds thin, hollow, distant. It’s the first time he’s worried to the point he actually feels sick. He never ignores his gut instincts, it’s never been wrong.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you?”

There’s nothing but loud static for a few seconds.

“Hanbin?”

“Huh? What?”

“Do you want me to come get you?” He half shouts into his phone, causing the other guys in the garage to look up in awkward sympathy.

“Oh. Okay.”

“Just….wait for me okay? Don’t go anywhere. Just wait for me. Okay?” He says, not realising how desperate he sounds until he sees the looks of pity he gets.

“Okay.”

He hangs up and runs a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

“Dude, just go. We’ll take it from here.” There’s a pat on his back as his manager pushes him gently outside. “Drive carefully.”

He doesn’t. And just because the universe must want them to suffer, he hits what seems like every single red light.

“FUCK!” He says, for the 5th time.

There’s relief when he finally sees Hanbin’s blue car in the empty parking lot but the driver’s side is empty. He parks haphazardly, stalking the area like a crazy person and only calming down when he can see a small figure in the distance, just standing and looking down at the waves. He grabs the spare blanket from the back seat and walks along the cliff edge, heart hammering in his throat the entire way.

“Hey….” He starts, not knowing what to say at a time like this. Hanbin doesn’t even look up.

“Hi.”

“So, um-”

“Did you know that there is actually more sea than land? And with global warming there’s going to be even more sea and less land? We’re all gonna drown one day unless we move into the mountains.”

It’s the most Hanbin has said all week.

“Oh, ah…no. I didn’t know that.”

The wind whips his hair in his face and he shivers even though he’s wearing a thick parka. Hanbin just stands there, facing the wind, in his thin jacket, looking at the water like it held all the answers to their problems. He barely even registers the blanket draped over his shoulders.

“Do you want to-”

“She knows. About you.”

“Who knows?”

“My mum. She knows.”

“How?”

“Someone saw us. Reported it back to her.”

“Well, did you deny it?”

“No.”

“What? Why?” He panics. “I thought you weren’t ready to tell them yet? What did she say?”

Hanbin laughs bitterly, it sounds awful. “We’ve got one week left. Better make it count.”

“One week? One week of what?”

Hanbin just shakes his head, like he can’t even say it out loud.

He reaches out to touch Hanbin’s fingers but there’s that recoil again. He feels the cold sting of rejection, just like the first time. Everything was so wrong.

“Hanbin? One week of what?”

There’s a long pause before Hanbin finally turns to face him. He wasn’t prepared for the hollow eyes, the miserable defeat, how tired that beautiful face had become. “One week of this.”

“I don’t get it-”

“They want me to break up with you! What is there to get?!” Hanbin snaps at him, eyes flashing angrily with irritation.

“Break up? What?” He asks, mind reeling and body aching, like someone just punched him in the chest. “Why? What happened?”

He watches Hanbin squeeze his eyes shut and pull at his hair in frustration. He hasn’t seen him revert back to his old habits in a long time. “I don’t know! There was some affair last year and my dad almost got fired. But then my mum lied for him. Lied and went on pretending like everything was normal. So he got promoted. And now there’s some promotion again and the annual fundraiser and I have to go to it with the CEO’s daughter. And I’m a total fucking embarrassment to them. And now I have you. And I’m…this. And apparently, it doesn’t go with the image they had. And….”

He listens in disbelief and waits until Hanbin has run out of breath. “Are you….are you serious? They want us to break up because of that?”

He knew it was the wrong thing to say as soon as it left his mouth.

“I don’t expect you to understand any of it.” Hanbin says, face twisting with disappointment.

“No, I do. I do.”

“No you don’t! How can you? Nobody expects you to do anything. You can just do what you want, when you want. Chase whatever dream you feel like. I can’t do that with you. Not now. Not ever!” Hanbin yells at him as the waves crash loudly against the cliff face below them.

“Why the fuck not?!” He shouts back, tired and done with being passive and sympathetic about this.

“Because I can’t! I just can’t!”

“Yes you can! I’m so fucking tired of pretending like it doesn’t bother me. You think I’m gonna just stay silent on this and let you walk away? Do you know how long it took me to find this? Nobody is taking this from me, not even you!”

He’s so caught up in the moment that he only stops when there’s a flash of pain across Hanbin’s face. He follows his hand to where it’s gripping Hanbin’s arm, maybe a bit too tightly. He lets go with a heavy sigh.

“Are you really just going to let them tell you what to do?” He asks in a calmer voice. “Are you serious?”

“It’s not worth it Jiwon. I’m so tired of all this. Maybe leaving-”

He throws his hands up in frustration. “I can’t fucking believe we’re having this conversation. I can’t believe it. It’s like I’m talking and you’re not hearing any of it.”

“I can hear you perfectly fine.” Hanbin says with irritation. “You just think life is simple. That if you’re in love with someone, that’s all there is to it.”

“It is.”

“Maybe for you.”

He kicks at the rock near their feet and has the strong urge to punch something in the face. “So what? We just stop seeing each other? Is that what you want?”

“It doesn’t even matter what I want.”

“Why won’t you fight for it? I’m not worth it to you? All this time and it’s this easy for you to walk away from me?” He knows he’s playing dirty, implying things that he knows aren’t even true but if this is how it’s going to go down, then this is how he’ll play it.

“You don’t get anything!” Hanbin snaps. “You don’t fucking get anything! You live in some fantasy land where there are no responsibilities or consequences. They hate you, do you get that? They hate that I’m with you. They hate me. They hate the way I am. If you stay with me, do you want to know what will happen? Do you?”

“WHAT?!” He replies hotly.

“They’re going to find out everything about you. Everything you’ve worked for, it’ll be gone. Your rap thing? Might as well give up now. And your parents? Your family? Everything is going to be a mess. It’s not a fight you can ever win.”

“You can’t know that. Who even does that? How can anyone do that-”

“They’ve done it before!”

That catches him by surprise and extinguishes the red heat of his rage. All this time, they have always been so caught up in his ex-relationships that not once have they ever talked about Hanbin’s. He realises he doesn’t know anything about anyone before him.

“Where is he now? The one before me.”

“I don’t know.” Hanbin replies quietly.

“I’m…I’m sorry.” He says pathetically, feeling every bit undeserving of everything.

Hanbin just shrugs. “Well, now you know the history. I’m tired. I don’t want to talk about this anymore.”

He follows Hanbin back to the parking lot in silence and watches as Hanbin walks to his own car and attempts to find the right keys and buttons with shaky fingers.

“Here, I’ll drive it back.” He says gently as he takes he keys into his own hands.

“But you can’t leave your car here. You love that thing.”

He opens his mouth to say it but it doesn’t come out.

Not like this. Not like this.

“It’s only a car.” He says with a shrug, hoping to convince Hanbin that it doesn’t matter. It doesn’t really, not if there’s nobody to drive around in it. “I’ll drive you home.”

****

It’s 8:40pm, The Walking Dead has just started and June has finally found the comfortable spot on their couch when there’s a loud knock on their door.

He groans.

“I’ll get it.” Yo says as he walks past.

But there’s nothing for a few seconds.

“Yo? Who is it? Yo?”

He wanders out into their hallway, Yo looks back at him with a sad frown before stepping aside so he can see the figure standing in the doorway.

Jiwon.

Red eyes, tired, way too quiet.

“Hey, um…sorry for dropping by but ah, I kinda don’t have anywhere to live right now.”

#Cloudy With A Chance #if you want to know why Fleetwood Mac is relevant to this story-let me know #haha it's quite tragic #also: yes you are supposed to hate this chapter and it is supposed to be hard and annoying to read #because depression is hard and annoying #i won't make it pretty or flow nicely #it would defeat the purpose #double b #hanbin #bobby #ikon #text #fic

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the-moody-angel · 7 years

Text

Risking Fingers

Amaya yawned as she made her way to the bathroom. She was always the first to go to bed and the first to wake up - that way she didn't have to wait in line for the bathroom every morning. It was a habit she had developed while in the JSA, since their rigorous training prevented anyone from sleeping in.

After brushing her hair she reached for her toothbrush and flinched back when her fingers brushed against a cool sharp edge.

"What the hell!?"

"What is it?" Nate said as he walked up to the door.

"This," Amaya responded as she reached out to pick up the object. She gingerly removed it from where it innocently sat in the cup next to her toothbrush.

"Isn't that one of Sara's knives?" He asked as she held it up.

"It must be since no one else really uses them. But what on earth is it doing in here?"

"No idea. I'll ask her about it later. Are you almost done in here?"

"Almost." As Nate went back into the hall to wait, Amaya set the knife on the edge of the steel sink. Hopefully Sara would find it later and put it back in it's proper place . . .

The next one to find their fingers at risk was Jax. He was in the engine room, half buried in the engines and trying to figure out why they kept stalling. He didn't even know that a time ship could stall for crying out loud.

"Gideon, are you sure you can't find anything wrong?"

"Yes, Mr. Jackson. All parts of the engine appear to be intact. I can detect nothing out of place."

"What the hell then!" Jax fumed as he disentangled himself from the inner workings of the ship.

"There is no damn reason for my ship to be malfunctioning!"

"I do have one suggestion Mr. Jackson." Said the AI in a conversational tone.

"Spit it out Gideon, if I don't get the Waverider to 100 percent Sara'll thow my ass off of it."

"I highly doubt that Miss Lance would commit such an act no matter how upset she might become. However, it could be that something is interfering with the electric currents connecting the engines. The beams are mostly covered but there is a slight gap between the two engine casings where something small might be able to fall and become stuck in place."

"Why didn't you mention this before Gideon?" Asked Jax as he made his way across the room to the three inch gap between the hulking steel structures. As he bent to press his eye to the gap the AI responded.

"I am sorry Mr. Jackson, I assumed you knew every inch of the ship and therefore every possible area of potential malfunction. You say as much on a regular basis."

Jax rolled his eyes. Who knew a computer could have an attitude.

"Hey, I see something." Jax slowly maneuverd his hand into the space.

"Please be careful Mr. Jackson, touching the beams could result in deathly injury."

"Yeah, I got that." Jax muttered.

He groped around for the object and clutched at the cold sharp edge, gripping it and sliding it back out.

"What the heck is this doin back here!?"

"It appears to be one of Miss Lance's throwing knives."

"I can see that Gideon. But how did it get stuck in between my engines?" Jax looked up at the ceiling as if he could see the AI as she gave her response.

"I did observe Miss Lance and Mr. Snart enter this room earlier yesterday, although for some reason my cameras malfunctioned while they were inside, so I am afraid that I am unable to provide any more information."

"What the hell." Jax mumbled. He left the knife in the cargo room on his way back to the library. Hopefully Sara would put it back with the rest of them.

Ray wandered through the halls. They had just gone several rounds with the Legion, who had somehow managed to invade the Waverider while it was docked in the 30's. They hadn't lost anyone and their piece of the spear was safe but the ship had been a mess and everyone was more than a little banged up.

Mick had a nasty gash on his head, Sara, a dislocated shoulder, and Jax a concussion, which poor Martin was feeling as well. However, only Mick was still down. Everyone else had worked to put the Waverider back to rights.

They had just finished cleaning, which had been super easy - thanks to his own superior organization skills thought Ray. Now if only he could get Mick to stick to the chore chart.

He was on his was to the medbay to see how the arsonist in question was doing when something glinted on the wall in the artificial light.

"What's this?" He walked up and peered at the object.

"Huh. Sara must've been aiming at the speedster, otherwise there's no way she would've missed." Ray shrugged and reached up to pull the blade out of the wall.

And pulled.

He was red in the face when he finally stepped away.

"OK." He sighed, "that's not coming out anytime soon. I'll just ask Sara to take care of it." He paused in thought, "as soon as her shoulder is better."

"HEY HAIRCUT!" Mick yelled from the medbay around the corner "IS THAT YOU? YOU BETTER NOT BE TALKING TO YOURSELF!"

"No, no, of course not Mick." Ray jogged away from the impailed wall, forgetting all about the knife - at least until an hour later when he found two more similar situations next to his bedroom door . . .

It was a week later and Nate was in the library with his feet propped up reading when Stein walked in.

"Oh hey Professor, Whatcha up to?"

"Greetings Mr. Heywood, I was just looking to see if I could help with any research. Since we've been in the temporal zone for a while now I find myself itching, so to speak, for something to do."

"Oh yea, sure. Here, pull up a chair." He said while taking his feet off the desk.

"Thank you" Stein said as he sat down.

"Here," Nate said as he passed a pile of books over, "start with some of these."

They read in silence for a while before Stein grabbed a new book and opened to a random page.

"Oh my!" He gasped as a clatter accompanied his exclaimation, causing Nate to look up.

"What was that?" He followed the Professor's gaze to the floor where a small silver knife shined innocently.

"Was this in the book?" He asked Stein as he carefully picked it up.

"Yes, it was indeed. It slid out and almost hit me as soon as I opened the pages."

"Amaya found one next to her toothbrush a while back. I gotta tell Sara to stop leaving these around."

"It's strange." Stein murmured thoughtfully.

"How so?" Nate asked.

"Hmm? Oh, well in the past Miss Lance has always seemed so particular about her weapons. Always keeping them clean and put away when they're not on her person. But as of late, she seems to be leaving them in the oddest of places."

"That's weird. Well, we can ask her about it later. For now I'll just put this where we can't cut ourselves by accident." Nate tossed the pice of steel into a drawer as he spoke and it wasn't long before they forgot about it.

For a little while at least. Very soon tho, the entire ship was going to get a rude awakening.

Mick was in the kitchen; eating as usual. After raiding the cabinets he moved on to the fridge. He knew there was a cake in here damn it. A chocolate one. Yes! He pulled it out and then paused. There was a hilt sticking out of the top of the frosting.

Mick stared for a second and then shrugged. If Sara stuck one of her ninja knives in a cake then he was gonna use it. He pulled the knife out and used it to cut a huge chunk loose. Then he tossed it on the counter, shoved the cake back in the fridge and grabbed his beer.

There wouldn't have been a problem if he hadn't tried to sit down.

He put his beer on the table, pulled a chair out, and plopped down. Or at least, partway down.

He leapt up screaming before he actually hit the seat.

"WHAT THE FUCKING HELL!? I'M GONNA-"

"What on earth?" Stein came running into the room with Jax right behind him.

"Yo, what happened man?" Asked Firestorm's younger half.

"MY ASS! I GOT STABBED IN THE ASS!" Mick roared.

Before the other two men totally understood what had happened, Mick was waddling by with one hand over his wounded ass cheek. In his wake he left the culprit: one of Sara's many blades skewering the seat of Micks chair, the tip dyed red with the burly man's blood.

The whole crew had been finding their Captains blades in the weirdest places for weeks now, but for Mick this was the last straw.

Sara was oblivious to the chaos going on within her ship. She was in her office on the couch in the corner, keeling on the cushions and leaning down to lock lips with the crook beneath her. His hands were tangled in her blond hair and hers were pressed into the fabric above his shoulders.

They had been like this for several minutes and the assassin was starting to feel lightheaded when they finally came up gasping for air. She stared at his flushed face and sparkling eyes and knew hers must be twice as red.

"You know," drawled the crook, "if we keep this up, at this rate we're going to have to move to a more private place." Sara smirked.

"What, like the engine room? We barley got out of there before Jax showed up. Plus I'm getting tired of having to delete Gideon's security footage. What's wrong with an actual bed?" Leonard smiled.

"It's more entertaining."

"Hmmm," Sara smiled as she leaned down again, "I suppose I can agree with that." As they locked lips once more, Leonard ran his hands down her sides and hips. She moaned and bit his lip, causing him to make a lower noise. The combined sounds and shivers of desire prevented either of them from noticing Leonard's hands dislodging one of Sara's many knives and allowing it to slip between the couch cushions.

Sara's hands had just made it under Leonard's shirt and his were sliding down the back of her jeans when Micks angry tones reached their ears.

"BLONDIE! I HAVE A BONE TO PICK WITH YOU!"

Len and Sara leapt apart, Sara rolling off the couch, onto the floor and standing up in one fluid motion while Len was left to sit up and turn towards the bridge, where a very pissed off arsonist was storming towards the office, murder in his eyes.

"YOU STABBED ME IN THE FUCKING ASS! WHAT THE HELL BLONDIE?"

Sara didn't even pause, just swiftly pulled another ever-present knife from out of nowhere. She opened her mouth to tell Mick to stop but the big man was already a statue, his eyes fixed on the gleaming steel in his Captains hand.

"Mick," Leonard stayed where he was as he spoke, "what the hell is going on?" Mick slowly raised one hand to point at Sara's blade.

"I've been finding blondie's ninja knives everywhere for weeks. I didn't really care, until one ended up in a chair and I sat on the damn thing!"

"How do you not notice a knife stuck in the seat of a chair?" Asked Sara as she lowered the one in her hand.

"That's not the point!" Mick snapped as The rest of the crew finally ran onto the bridge.

"I think what Mr. Rory means is that it is unsafe for you to be leaving your weapons all over the ship Miss Lance." Stein; always the diplomat.

"Yea," Jax agreed, "what the heck Sara, didn't you used to keep those locked up in the cargo hold or somthing?"

"I know, right?" Ray said. "Why are they suddenly in the most random of places; like the wall for instance?"

"Or my engine room?"

"Or in our place of study?"

"Dude," Nate looked over at the professor, "just say library, will ya?"

"I -"

"Alright, alright!" Everyone turned towards the crook as he stood and interrupted the professors protest.

"I can clear this whole thing up right now, although those of you with more . . . delicate ears . . . may want to cover them.

"Oh boy." Sara muttered. But there was no stopping him. Mick had interrupted something enjoyable, and Leonard was annoyed.

"Sara and I make out all over the ship. You know this, some of you have even walked in on it." He glared at Ray who gulped noticeably.

"Sometimes that kissing turns into sex. Which means our clothes come off and so do Sara's knives, and sometimes they get left behind. Also sometimes they end up in her hands and thus end up in nearby surfaces such as walls or knocked over chairs." All of this was said in very bored tones with his hands in his pockets.

Everyone's eyes and mouths slowly got wider except for Sara, who just closed hers and pressed one hand to her forehead in exsaperation.

Leonard paused and looked around.

"Any questions? No. Good." He grabbed Sara's hand and began dragging her away.

"Mick, go to the med bay and have Gideon fix up your ass. The next one to complain about the Captain's weapons gets one thrown at them by me. I may not be League of Assassins but I can still throw a knife."

No one dared say anything as the crook and the assassin walked away hand in hand.

As Leonard's door closed behind them he turned to look as Sara's beaming face.

"What." Her grin widened.

"If this is what it took to get you to a real bed I would've stabbed Mick in the ass weeks ago."

"Very funny assassin." And with that they resumed the activity that Mick had interrupted.

This time, they made sure to collect all of Sara's knives afterward. Sara didn't want her boyfriend to end up in the same position as his best friend.

#Captaincanary #Ledgendsoftomorrow #saralance #leonardsnart #assassin #crook #weapons #knives #mickrory #fanfiction #au #smut #finallymakinguseofmytumblr #ao3 #ao3fic

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