#if you need anything explained please let me know!!

[moonstruckme]

Hi Mae! I've been obsessed with your writing for a while now, ur poly marauders is just perfecttt. The way you write them is just so accurate to my personal characterizations and head cannons :)

I had an idea that I thought would be cute but feel free to ignore if it doesn't inspire you ofc.

I was thinking about poly! Marauders x goth! Reader. Like reader forcing them to watch her favorite horror movies or explore abandoned places or like go to a concert or smtn

Omg and the reader dressing up to go out with them and them just dying cuz the eyeliner and fishnets and everything (who can blame them, goth girls r gorgeous 😍😍)

Thanks lovely!!

poly!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 927 words

“Is it on me?” James hears the door open, followed by Sirius’ voice, growing shriller. “Is it on me?” 

“I don’t think so.” You sound one part amused and two parts exasperated. “Stay still, I can’t look while you’re moving around.” 

James leaves the dishes in the sink to soak, too curious to prioritize chores. He finds you both in the entryway. Remus is observing from the couch as Sirius stands rigidly still and you pick through his hair unhurriedly. You’re both covered in dust and what looks to be cobwebs, made even more apparent on you by your dark clothing. 

“I thought you were going to drop clothes off at the donation bin,” James says bemusedly. 

“We did,” you reply, at the same time as Sirius says, “It was a trap!”

Remus lifts an eyebrow. James is glad he’s not the only one who seems to be missing something. 

“There’s an old abandoned church not far from there,” you explain casually. “I wanted to check it out, and Sirius thought it could be fun to explore, too.” 

“That was before I knew it housed the world’s largest spider population,” he argues. “Fuck, can someone get this thing off me? If I feel anything crawling I’m gonna flip shit.” 

“Aren’t you already?” Remus murmurs. You grin at him, stepping back to let James take over for you. 

“I assume I’m taking out the web?” James asks, picking out a piece. 

You sigh. “Sirius thought he saw a spider in the car—” 

“I know I did, thank you.” 

“—and he’s worried it got on him. But I’ve been looking, and I haven’t seen it.” 

“I’m fairly sure it would have crawled off by now, love,” Remus says, sitting up on his knees and beckoning you to the couch so he can pull the spiderwebs out of your hair, too. 

“All I know is, if no one finds that thing on me, I’m going to take the world’s hottest shower to make sure it’s dead.” 

“You’ll have to hurry,” Remus reminds him. “Our reservation is at eight.” 

“We can be a few minutes late.” 

“We cannot.”

“Fuck!” James jumps a good few feet back, hands frozen in front of him. 

“What?” Sirius cries. His shoulders seize up. “What is it?” 

“Shit, sorry, it’s nothing. I thought I saw something move, but it was your hair.” 

“Oh my god, I’m gonna fucking kill you.” Sirius puts his face in his hands, sounding less murderous than teary. “Remus, please.” 

“I’ll take care of you next,” Remus replies, dedicatedly combing his fingers through your hair. 

James mumbles an apology as he goes back to doing the same thing to Sirius. All in all, you look like you’ve actually gotten the brunt of it. You’re covered in spiderwebs, likely a result of you simply putting far less work into avoiding them than Sirius. You seem unbothered as Remus unsticks a rather large one from by your ear.  

You go off to change for dinner first, because Sirius refuses to move until both James and Remus have each checked him over for spiders twice, and even then he still insists upon his shower. James can’t say he’d feel differently in his place. 

He thinks he might need a cold shower himself when you come back out. 

“Angel,” James breathes. It’s both an endearment and an observation. His eyes stutter their way up you, continually snagging on fishnet tights and kohl-lined eyes and the little lace ruffle lining your top. His tongue feels heavy in his mouth. 

“You look lovely,” Remus says, smooth where James is not, and you grin as you lean down to kiss him on the cheek. A pink tinge rises up from beneath your boyfriend’s freckles and scars. When you lift your lips, you leave a dark imprint of lipstick behind that James has absolutely no intentions of telling him about. 

“So do you,” you say, as though he’s not wearing the exact same thing he was a minute ago. (Though James is nonetheless inclined to agree. Remus always looks lovely.) Your eyes turn to James, the black liner making them look deeper and even more striking than usual. 

“You do, too,” you tell him. He feels a flock of butterflies (do butterflies have flocks?) scare into flight in his stomach. 

His grin feels wobbly, but certainly not for lack of enthusiasm. “Thanks,” he manages. 

“So, I was talking to Sirius in the bathroom,” you say, sitting on the arm of the couch. James’ eyes follow the movement of your skirt, the way it rides up with the motion. He warms in several places. “He says that if the spider’s not on him, it has to be in the car. He won’t get in it until we’ve checked.” 

Remus exhales heavily through his nose, and you nod your agreement. 

“I’m not convinced he actually saw anything,” you say. “He is so paranoid.” 

“Or maybe you,” James leans over to kiss your cheek, unable to restrain himself any longer as he reaches around you to squeeze the fat of your hip, “are just far too even-tempered from watching so many horror films.” 

“No, he’s paranoid,” Remus agrees with you, groaning as he gets up. “I’ll check the car. If I don’t find anything, we’ll just say we caught it.” 

“I’ll help.” You slip off the arm of the couch, starting after him with springy steps. 

James follows, if only so he can stand behind you and keep you from flashing the next-door neighbors when you bend over to look. It’s strictly selfless.

#poly!marauders #poly!marauders x reader #poly!marauders x fem!reader #poly!marauders x y/n #poly!marauders x you #poly!marauders x self insert #poly!marauders fanfiction #poly!marauders fanfic #poly!marauders fic #poly!marauders fluff #poly!marauders imagine #poly!marauders scenario #poly!marauders drabble #poly!marauders blurb #poly!marauders one shot #poly!marauders oneshot #james potter #james potter x reader #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fandom #the marauders #hp marauders #marauders era #marauders x reader

[ladymostdeject]

Vox - Pre-flatscreen

Are you writing about Vox, pre-flatscreen, but you’ve never seen a CRT screen before in your life because you are A BABY CHILD (affectionate)?

Come gather round, sit upon my knee, and listen to this elder-millennial tell you all about it. (if you want to I guess, I'm not the boss of you).

CRT’s don’t glitch the way we see Vox do in the show, but they had all sorts of ways to go wrong. If you flipped to a channel where there was nothing broadcast, you’d get solid static or those multicolor bars we see Vox with.

But also, if a channel had bad reception, you’d get a little static over the top and sometimes the image would distort. We called this “snow/ a snowy channel.” 

Sometimes you could get better reception if you fiddled with the antenna a little. Sometimes grabbing the antenna made the channel better, and then letting go made it worse! Because your body became the new antenna! 

I’d like to introduce you to something even before my time: Test patterns!

TV didn’t used to run 24/7! At the end of the day, the network would “sign off”, say good night, play the star-spangled banner, and end with a test pattern. Later, test patterns looked like colored bars, but early ones in the 50’s and 60’s looked like this!

One of my FAVORITE things about CRT’s is when they had been on for a while, if you ran your hand across the glass, a very gentle static would crackle wherever you were touching, and could make your hair on your arm stand up. Tell me that doesn’t have fic applications, my friends!

You can HEAR a CRT when it is on, even if nothing is playing. It’s a very high pitched whine.

I cannot explain to you how nice it felt to change channels with a dial. They were heavy metal, and there was resistance, and a very satisfying click!

If you held a magnet up to the screen you’d get crazy rainbow color distortions, but if you left it too long you’d get those color distortions permanently burned into the screen.

CRT’s are VERY heavy in the front, where the glass is, and MUCH lighter in the back where there's empty space.

CRT’s don’t have fans (only vents), or processors (they only receive, there’s nothing to process!) What they do have is something called an electron gun and vacuum tubes! This is what their insides look like:

But, Lady, you say, how do they work? I don’t know! Ask this guy!

Other things to consider: 

The word Podcast didn’t exist until 2004, and I'd never heard it until 2013 or so (who even taught Alastor this word????) I remember the first time I heard it, and I needed someone to explain to me what it was.

Emails weren’t widespread until the 90s. If Vox is communicating with his employees via text, and it’s pre-1990, the word you’re probably looking for is “Memo” which were literal sheets of paper people could send each other via an in-house courier. 

If I’ve forgotten anything, please feel free to add on! 

#radiostatic #staticmoth #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #staticradio #onewaybroadcast #I am NOT being critical btw #I love you fic writers #thank you for your service #I'm just always fascinated by the way things USED to be even before my time and trying to share the joy #lady talks #Youtube

[adelheidvonschicksal]

Can you do Zayne but we are jealous? 😭

Summary: You didn’t want to be one of those people. The type that gets jealous about someone you aren’t even dating, the type to get jealous because of a hostess of all people. But thinking about how often he must come here for her to feel comfortable calling him by name (even with the word doctor thrown in front) makes your chest tight along with the way that she looks at him like she can win him over.

And if this cake is as delicious as it looks, filled with fresh berry jam between layers of vanilla and a pretty ripe red strawberry resting on a swirled mound of white sweet cream, she might.

Pairing: Zayne x F!Reader

Content warnings: jealousy, fluff, reader is a little bit childish in this one

You didn’t want to be one of those people.

The type that gets jealous about someone you aren’t even dating, the type to get jealous because of a hostess of all people.

It’s sort of cliché, isn’t it?

The woman is just doing her job, isn’t she?

Hostesses are supposed to be polite and show courtesy to the customer. Providing exceptional and sometimes personal service is how you build a clientele, even a hunter like you knows how important optics can be.

Sometimes that might mean touching a shoulder.

Sometimes that might mean offering a suspiciously large piece of strawberry cake on the house to a customer’s table.

The overgenerous portion of cake is simply for the two of you to share. That’s all.

“I’ll give you time to look over the menu. Please let me know if you need anything,” the hostess says, and you think longer about the way her eyes linger on Zayne than you would like.

Zayne seems uncharacteristically fine with the treatment but you’re not. You aren’t happy about how the hostess—owner? — knows him by name. Thinking about how often he must come here for her to feel comfortable calling him by name (even with the word doctor thrown in front) makes your chest tight along with the way that she looks at him like she can win him over.

And if this cake is as delicious as it looks, filled with fresh berry jam between layers of vanilla and a pretty ripe red strawberry resting on a swirled mound of white sweet cream, she might.

“You knew exactly which table you wanted to sit at, huh,” you comment against your better judgment after the hostess graciously drops off your mini teapot before leaving to let you look over the menu.

“I like the spot by the window.”

“You must like it here a lot to have a nesting spot picked out already,” you say with an awkward laugh. You try so hard to make it sound like a joke, biting back the insecurity and irritation in your voice. Not trusting yourself to keep a straight face, you bring the porcelain teacup up to your mouth.

“This place is a convenient distance from the hospital the food is good, and the service is fast and above standard.” His face is completely unchanged as he stirs his tea, and it somehow makes you even more frustrated as he continues, “Not to mention their strawberry cake is the best one I’ve had so far.”

With a single finger, Zayne slides the plate off to you while the small dessert fork rests in his other hand for you to take. Placing your cup down, you quickly take the fork from him, stab it into the cake, and take a bite.

The dessert barely hits your tongue before your body works up a moan. It’s creamy, not too sweet, and absolutely delicious. It’s almost enough to make you forget about your jealousy as each bite leaves you hearing the harps of angels until Zayne explains that the hostess makes all the desserts in the teahouse.

You never had the sensation of wanting to spit out a dessert until now.

“Formed your review yet?”

Sucking the last orgasmic flavor from your tongue, you place the fork back on the plate and quickly push it back in his direction.

“It’s too sweet,” you lie, and such an obvious lie because you’d ask anyone who can bake like this to marry you if given the opportunity. Upset at the thought, you place your glare on the teacup in front of you, “and the tea tastes scorched.”

Finally, Zayne picks up on your negative attitude. More accurately, he finally decides to voice the fact that he’s noticed your mood dropping ever since you sat down.

“Aren’t you the one that begged me to take you here?”

“You can’t blame me for falling victim to the hype.”

“I take it I’m “the hype” in question?”

“Well, you did keep mentioning this place.” You shrug. “It’s not a big deal. We can’t get them right all the time.”

It’s the first time you’ve seen Zayne upset at you in a while, with his eyes narrowing in your direction. “If you’re in a bad mood then we should call it a day. I’ll take you home, you obviously could use the rest.”

Scowling, you clench your hands over your thighs. You really hate it when he talks like you’re one of his rowdy patients, or worse yet, a child who needs to be laid down for an afternoon nap.

“I’m perfectly fine. In fact, I got enough energy to walk home. I’ll catch up to you later,” you reply and snatch your bag up from the seat. You place however much you think you owe for the tea on the table and hope he doesn’t follow as you walk to the entrance, pausing briefly to roll your eyes at the basic “please come again” ringing behind you.

It’s a few days before you hear from Zayne again aside from the text late the evening of your fight asking if you made it home in one piece. At the time, you were too annoyed to reply; and now that the anger subsided, you were too embarrassed to respond to him.

You feel like an asshole for getting so snippy about it in the first place.

Zayne didn’t really do anything wrong; it’s not like he was yours in the first place, but you still let your jealousy get the better of you. Now the only thing you were angry with was yourself for becoming so short-tempered with him instead of being honest about your feelings. You hated feeling like this, but anger was nothing that beating up a few wanderers couldn’t cure.

So, you throw on your work gear and head out into the city on your normal route. It offers a nice distraction to your guilty mind as you patrol the streets of Linkon for fluctuations.

There’s nothing too concerning going on. You barely manage to find a small group of low-powered wanderers on the edge of town, perfect for beating up and clearing your head before you decide to head back home.

On the way back to the apartment complex, you can see Akso Hospital, the towering blue windows on each floor waving at you from afar. Your eyes instinctively rise to the cardiac division, and it makes you think of Zayne.

“Is he in office today? Maybe I should visit him?” You take a step in the direction of the hospital then stop yourself. “What if he doesn’t want to see me right now?”

Deciding there’s no time like the present, you fetch your phone out of your pocket and click on your message thread with Zayne. As you thought, he hasn’t sent anything since that day. It makes fear spark in your heart as you hover your thumbs over the keyboard.

You’re too nervous to think of what to send.

Frowning, you stare at the screen, muddling over how to start, erasing word after word until you see three animated gray-blue bubbles appear at the bottom of your screen.

Zayne is typing.

…Zayne is typing!

It causes your mind to race frantically. “Did he see me typing? Has he been watching me type this whole time?”

Both ideas make your stomach turn as you wait for his agonizingly slow text to appear.

Are you available? My last patient canceled today. Your route is nearby if I remember correctly.

There’s a sweat-inducing pause before the last message.

If you still trust my opinion on sweets, why don’t we stop by the dessert shop together? My treat.

Your eyes widen at the offer. Zayne simply wants to take you out to eat again. You reread over his messages, zoning in on the second to last. If you still trust my opinion on sweets, why don’t we stop by the dessert shop together?

The same sickly feeling as before begins to propagate through your chest. This time it’s because you feel bad that he might somehow think your behavior a couple of days ago was his fault. Frowning, you quickly start to draft a response to meet him at the hospital. When you get to the café, you’ll apologize and treat him instead.

Sliding your phone back in your pocket, you head fast in the direction of Akso Hospital.

When you arrive, you’re not surprised to already see Zayne waiting for you by the entrance. He already traded out his uniform for his casual attire, and you briefly think about how he looks as handsome as ever in that black turtleneck.

“I was right to guess you were in the area,” he says, which is about the most standard greeting you’ve ever gotten to your surprise.

“Good evening, Dr. Zayne.”

“Are you ready to go?” he asks, and you nod, following him out to his car and making your way to the shopping district.

You’re pleasantly, or is it more correct to say awkwardly, surprised that he doesn’t bring up the incident from a few days ago on your walk through the market. However, that doesn’t stop you from thinking about it. Sighing, you suppose you should say something if only to erase the unbearable silence between the two of you.

“What am I supposed to say?”

You force a smile to muster some confidence.

“How was work?”

“Fine.”

“Been keeping yourself busy over the last few days?” you ask, delicately trying to breach the subject and where you stand with him.

“Work is always as such,” he replies, weaving his way through the crowd; his large frame creates a path for you to follow behind him and to also hide your disappointment from him. It looks like you’re back to square one as you decide it’s best to be quiet for now.

Eventually, Zayne stops and motions you to follow him to one of the street vendors. You’re still a few streets short of the café as you find yourself waiting in line with him for the sachima stall.

It’s puzzling that he’s stopping to buy more sweets when you’re already on your way to the dessert shop. Sure, Zayne had a sweet tooth, but it wasn’t that extreme. At least you thought.

“Didn’t you want to stop by that cafe?” you ask him.

Zayne shakes his head.

“No.”

He casually slides his hands in his pockets, stepping up as the line quickly begins to dwindle down. Confused, you tilt your head at him, and you notice dark hazel eyes scanning your puzzled expression.

“From what I hear, the desserts are too sweet and the tea is mediocre.”

You begin to pout at him. So, he did invite you out today because of that, not to talk about what happened but to make fun of you.

Slowly, he leans closer to you to whisper into your ear with the same smug grin he always has when teasing you. “It also happens to make an extremely jealous person I know stare daggers at the staff.”

Embarrassment claws itself into your skin, warming it as he steps forward and begins to purchase from the vendor. He pays no mind to your silence, and you question why you ever feel jealous when all he does is make fun of you. How awful to tease a woman about such a thing!

Your head droops with embarrassment as you wait off to the side for him.

When he finally steps in front of you with confectionaries in hand, you begin, “I’m sorry, Zayne. I was rude to you even though I asked you to take me, and it was childish to storm off like that.”

Instead of agreeing with you or mocking you like you thought he would, he says, “There’s no need to apologize.”

Zayne holds out the paper container of sweets at you, motioning for you to take the box from him. However, when you reach for it, he pulls it away.

"However, I still haven't quite forgiven you for not replying to my message. At least mark it with an emoji if you're too angry to respond."

You frown, remembering that you never told him if you were okay when he asked.

"I promise," you agree remorsefully, and he finally hands the package to you.

“Anyway, the problem is resolved,” he continues. He reaches into the package in your hand, pulls out one of the sweets, and holds the confectionary to your mouth. “So, we shouldn't have a repeat incident.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, waiting for him to finish off his snack, which is easy when he’s big enough to shove the whole thing in his mouth and polish it off in a few bites. “Zayne?” you repeat when he still doesn’t answer, choosing to grab another piece.

This time he holds it to your mouth, and you take the hint to eat it. As always, sugar makes you feel better especially when Zayne hands it to you.

“I took it out of my rotation,” he answers, nearly making you choke on the syrupy treat. “I won’t be going there in the future, so you have nothing to worry about.”

Coughing, you beat on your chest to force down the chunk of sachima you inadvertently choked on at his confession.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m the one who’s at fault,” you plead with him, but it doesn't seem to faze him as he chews. “If you like it there, you should go!”

“Why would I want to go somewhere that makes you uncomfortable?” he asks, and your mind thinks it would be obvious. He should have the freedom to eat where he wants but the warmth spreading in your chest manages to find its way to your face that he’d consider that. “Besides, there are still plenty of other spots to choose from that I like.”

“But…you like the strawberry cake from there,” you mumble in an attempt to convince him that it’s fine. Your jealousy shouldn’t dictate where he is allowed to eat. “It’s the best one.”

“Then, you’ll simply have to make me a better one.”

Eyes softening, Zayne smiles at you, small, discreet, something anyone else could miss, but not you on the rare chances that you’re gifted the tender expression; and suddenly, you’re remembering exactly why you get jealous over him, even at hostesses, even when you know he’s the type to avoid things that hurt your feelings.

Flustered, you shake your head. “I don’t know the first thing about baking. There’s no way, I can—”

“I’m sure you’ll succeed. It shouldn’t be too difficult when it’s coming from you.”

You gape at his insistence because out of everything he’s said to you today, this is the one thing where he sounds like he’s serious. You shouldn’t feel so fluttery at the idea that he wants to eat something you’ve made. It’s cliché and you’re much better at shooting a gun than sifting flour—

—and—

“We need to hurry.”

Pulling on his sleeve, you begin to direct him through the crowd. Zayne raises his eyebrows at you but obediently allows you to lead him. “Where are we going?”

“I need to buy strawberries before the fruit stand closes,” you explain and put more strength into dragging the doctor. "Pick up the pace. Do you want that cake or not?"

You do your best to ignore the chuckle you hear from the man behind you.

#zayne x reader #zayne fluff #love and deepspace x reader #lads x reader #lnd x reader #zayne love and deepspace

[mischelmayleys]

CHAPTER 2

As Ingird let me through their apartment I noticed how spot on it was. Everything had its place and was dusted off. A cat came to sniff my legs as we entered, making me bend down and pat its fur letting out a soft smile at the bal of fur.

“Okay so your room is right next to ours so if you need anything you can just come to us.” Ingrid explained as she opened the door to the room.

It was mostly a bare room with a nice king size bed in the middle and TV right on the opposite wall. As we walked it I spotted the big window where in front of it was a dest with some plants and a laptop.

“We didn’t know if you needed a laptop for school or not, but we figured you can just use it for whatever you want. It has netflix in it as well as the TV.” Ingird explained, probably seeing me eyeing it.

I didn’t know what to say: “I…thank you.”

She smiled softly at me and went to put a hand on my shoulder which made me flinch: “Hey don’t worry I just wanted to dust off your top.” She pointed her finger on my shoulder which had a bit of blood on it from the fight yesterday.

“Oh, that’s just um…” I started to say but Maria came literally running into the room with my bags on her shoulders.

“I don’t know if Ingrid already told you but we can do whatever you want with the room, we can paint the wall or buy new sheets, some decorations?” She was rambling and it made me look at Ingrid for help.

“Maria calm down, she just got here.” Maria stopped talking and apologized.

“It is okay. Can I use the bathroom please?” I asked not knowing where it was.

Ingrid nodded and pointed to a door in the back of my room: “There, it’s just yours.” I stared at her in shock. Did I just get my own room WITH a bathroom?

“We will let you settle down a bit, if you need anything we are in the kitchen.” Maria said and they left me alone.

I breathed out as they closed the door and I looked at my hands. They were bruised and they hurt less than yesterday but it started to get worse again due to me picking up the skin on my fingers. With a shaky breath I went to the bathroom, and carefully washed my hands under the water. It stinged and I hissed.

I replied to the fight in my head, it wasn’t my fault…I was just protecting myself. I might not have friends in school but outside it was better. Rodrigo was one of my closest friends to many people. He seemed like a bad person, but he was a sweet guy deep down. We met when I was at my first foster home when I was seven and he was ten. I saw him in a park where he had just fallen from his skateboard and I went to help him and since then we were attached to him until he started to hang out with the wrong people.

He is twenty now to my sixteen, and still he is my rock. I came to his flat more than I was to my different foster parents. And the fight happened because of him.

Flashback:

I was sitting next to Rodrigo on a couch as he smoked some weed and I just casually smoked cigarettes. His other friends were split all over his place and just doing nothing at all.

“So…you ran away again.” Rodrigo said to me as he turned my way.

I nod: “Yeah, what was I supposed to do? Get myself killed.” he gave me a soft smile and put his hand on my thigh: “Don’t worry, you can stay here if you want.”

I chuckled a bit: “Nah, I don’t think your friends would appreciate me sleeping in here.”

“You are right, we don’t want this chick sleeping here.” Someone from the other side of the room yelled as Rodrigo went to stand up and defend me but I pulled him back down: “don’t.” He huffed and sat down but couldn’t keep his mouth shut: “Shut up Diego, you bring here sluts and I can’t have here my friend?!”

It was the wrong move and from that time on, one of the only things I remember is that Diego hit first. They were punching each other hard and somehow I stood up and went to split them up.

And that was when Diego grabbed me so to my self defense I hit.

The only other thing I remember is police breaking into the apartment and separating us from each other.

I shook my head as a shiver went down my spine. I stopped the water and walked back into my room and took it all in again.

The fresh sheets.

The Tv and laptop looked completely brand new.

There was a thing I didn’t acknowledge the first time.

It was a framed Barcelona jersey. It had Alexia along with the number 11 written on the back. Alexia…Alexia… I tried to think about where I heard it before. I took out my phone and went to google it until I realized I didn’t have any wifi or data. I sigh and go to the laptop placed on the table and carefully open it. It was connected to a which I assumed was Ingrids and Maria's wifi.

I opened google and wrote about Alexia Fc Barcelona. So much information came up, that’s when I realized it’s THE Alexia, which people in my old school were always talking about. Alexia was the best footballer in the world. It’s not like I didn’t know that Barcelona had a female team, I just never had the opportunity to see them play, I never had a Tv before or money to go to see them play. There was one picture that caught my eye. It was a full squad photo, that’s when I saw them…Ingrid and Maria both being in the picture dressed in their very own kit.

I am living with famous football players…

I didn’t know if that was good or not. They are probably going to travel all the time and not have time for me…great so no need to get close to them. Since they are public figures, they wouldn't hurt a kid…at least I hoped so.

I closed the google and leaned back into the chair. What am I supposed to do now? Unpack?

The question in my head was quickly answered when my phone ding with a message.

Rodrigo: Come over?

I pursued my lips and looked at the closed door and then out of the window. It had the railing and stairs there…great way for escape.

INGRID POV:

Eliza was quiet in her room, we thought she would come out by now to eat dinner, but we didn’t want her to feel pressured so we stayed at the table waiting for her.

Mapi was texting away on her phone when she suddenly put it down: “I am going to look at her.” I nod as I waited.

She came quickly running back to me.

I frowned: “Why are you running what happened?”

Mapi had a worried look on her face: “She is not in her room.”

I quickly stood up: “What do you mean? Maybe she is just in the bathroom.”

“No, she is not anywhere and the window is open so I think she sneaked out.” Mapi said as she sat down on the chair and put her head into her hands. I ran my hand through her hair.

“Well…we know what the social worker told us. We are going to wait for her return.” I said quietly not really believing we won’t go looking for her

#woso #women's football #fc barcelona #espwnt #woso community #mapi leon #woso x reader #ingrid engen x reader #mapi leon x reader #teenage reader #alexia putellas

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 4

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

Chap 1, Chap 2 , Chap 3 , Chap 4 ,-

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky was speechless after you kissed his hand, even though it was through the leather gloves.

You let go of his hand. "Was that too much? Sorry, I’m just overwhelmed by the offer you gave."

“I take that as a yes?” Bucky asked, still processing.

“Well yeah, didn’t I seal it by kissing your hand? I thought it was clear.” You smiled, a hint of playfulness in your eyes.

Bucky chuckled softly. "That's a new way to accept an offer, but joke aside, I’m grateful you accepted."

You lowered your guard, leaning back slightly. "So what happens next? I have to say, I won’t do anything that makes me a homewrecker."

“Oh gosh, nothing like that,” Bucky reassured you, his tone earnest.

“That’s a relief.” You let out a breath, feeling more at ease.

Suddenly, Bucky's phone rang. He picked it up and saw the caller ID: "Victoria." He bit the inside of his cheek, not wanting to talk to her at this moment. However, he didn't want to ignore the call either, as his fiancée would quickly learn that he had no feelings for her.

He excused himself to answer the call. "Hello?"

"Hello, my fiancé. I apologize for bothering you, but I heard something that doesn't sit quite right with me. I heard that you are with my older sister?" Victoria asked, her voice calm and cheerful, though her perfectly manicured fingers were crumpling a few papers nervously on the other end.

Bucky felt like he had just been caught cheating. "I am. I have something to discuss with her because of what happened last night."

"Oh, I see. Alright, I won’t bother you. See you soon." Victoria ended the call, smirking as she looked at her phone. She knew Bucky's reputation—quiet and calm but ruthless if disrespected. She remembered how you embarrassed him last night and thought perhaps he was giving you a warning.

Victoria felt a tickle of satisfaction, believing Bucky understood her without her needing to lift a finger. She felt lucky to have him as her fiancé.

Bucky, not entirely sure what had just transpired, felt relieved that Victoria didn't seem suspicious and quickly ended the call.

He returned to you and saw you chatting with the waitress and his secretary. In seconds, you had already become close to new people.

Unlike you, Bucky’s circle of friends all had to undergo background checks before he could trust them.

"Let’s talk in the car. I’ll drop you off," Bucky suggested.

"Sure," you agreed, thinking this would save you transportation money.

Inside the luxurious car, you felt like you were being enveloped by the comfortable seat. Even if you worked for 20 years on your teacher’s salary, you wouldn’t be able to afford this car.

Bucky wore his reading glasses and read a document. He spoke to you without lifting his head. "Tomorrow, after your school is over, I’ll pick you up, and we'll meet my psychiatrist."

You raised your eyebrows in surprise.

Bucky explained, "He knows my condition, and I hope bringing you to meet him will help us find a solution." His voice sounded serious, a little desperate.

"Have you had this disorder since you were little?" you asked.

He flinched, his hand stopping mid-motion as he was about to flip the paper. "It started when I was 12 years old," Bucky replied, his voice tinged with a hint of vulnerability.

His expression turned grieving. You knew this was the moment to stop asking questions; after all, you’d just met him for the second time. There’s a limit to how personal you can get with someone you barely know.

🥀🥀🥀🥀

The car stopped in front of a small house. It looked old but cozy, especially the garden with its many flowers. Bucky wondered if it was you who took care of all the roses.

You rolled your eyes, "It was my grandma who has the green thumb."

Bucky glanced at the flowers. "Pretty. I’m grateful for your cooperation, but I hope none of this gets leaked to outsiders."

So he was giving you a warning. You made a gesture of zipping your lips. "My lips are sealed." Then you closed the car door and headed to your house.

After he saw you enter the house, he told his driver to start the car.

You watched the car drive away from behind the curtain.

"Is that your boyfriend, my Ophelia?" The cheerful voice of an older woman startled you. You jumped, turning to see your grandma, Cassandra, standing beside you.

She smiled at you, happiness evident in her eyes, but you couldn't share her joy. To your grandmother, you were her daughter, Ophelia, your mother, who had passed away years ago.

Life had been cruel to her, taking away her only daughter, her son-in-law ignored her, and her business at the same time, which took a significant toll on her. The final blow was dementia.

She didn’t remember you at all. At 70 years old, her mind had regressed to when she was 40. Because of the striking resemblance between you and your mother, she thought you were Ophelia.

You sighed and put on a smile for her. "No, he's just a friend."

Cassandra giggled. "Really? Your father will be jealous when he hears this. Uhuk... uhuk..." She started coughing. You bring her to sit on her chair.

Your heart clenched each time you heard your grandma cough. It was getting worse.

She needed surgery, but you didn't have the money.

Having a rich father like Jonathan was useless because you didn't have access to your money. The reason was clear: Genevieve and Victoria.

She really hated you and wanted you to starve to death.

You quickly put a blanket on Cassandra lap and turned on the air humidifier to help ease her cough.

As you added the eucalyptus and lemongrass essential oil into the humidifier, your eyes caught the family photo on the wall. It was a picture of your family—your dad, your mom, and your grandparents—standing in front of your childhood home. Everyone was gathered to celebrate your birthday. But now, it was all just a memory.

You clenched your fist, feeling a surge of determination. Soon, you would get what was supposed to be yours.

💋💋💋💋

The next day after school, you went with Bucky to see the psychiatrist. But before that, the school was in an uproar because of the clothes you were wearing. You, who always dressed like a vampire hunter in jeans, combat boots, a grey shirt, and a black jacket, were now wearing a casual outfit with a vintage aesthetic.

You wore a cream-colored blouse tucked into a high-waisted plaid skirt paired with brown loafers and a light brown blazer with elbow patches. Your hair was styled in soft waves, and you carried a small leather satchel. The change in your appearance left everyone talking.

Jimmy couldn’t believe you were the same teacher who always yelled at him. “Who are you?”

You replied with a smirk, “Your worst nightmare.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Despite your elegant outfit, you still commanded authority.

Bucky also noticed the change in your appearance. “You look different.”

You explained, “I don’t want your psychiatrist to think that I could be a bad influence on you.”

“Fair point,” he nodded in agreement.

After a while, both of you arrived at the destination, a fancy clinic. The receptionist, already accustomed to Bucky's appointments, greeted him warmly. “He’s waiting for you.”

Bucky led you to the room, which was bright and comfortable, conducive to a relaxed atmosphere. The walls were painted in calming colors and adorned with abstract art, and the furniture was modern yet inviting.

There was already someone sitting in the chair, holding a pen and a writing board. It was Dr. Javier, who had known Bucky for a long time.

Javier waited until both Bucky and you were seated. "You told me that you had a breakthrough. Is it her?" he inquired.

Bucky nodded, taking off his leather gloves and putting on a pulse oximeter on his finger. He then reached for your hand, and you placed yours in his.

Javier widened his eyes and adjusted his glasses. Bucky showed no signs of panic attacks, and his pulse appeared normal. "Wow. Incredible. How long has this been happening?" Javier asked.

Bucky replied, "Three days."

"After you touched her, you mentioned trying to shake somebody else's hand. Did the panic attacks suddenly reappear then?" Javier inquired further.

Bucky confirmed, "Yes."

Javier wondered what made you so special. Suddenly, he moved closer to you without warning.

You exclaimed, "What the-?"

“Interesting,” Javier nodded. “I can think of one reason: your body fragrance.”

You were taken aback. Did you really smell bad? You started sniffing your clothes. They were still new; you had only worn them three times, and they had been dry cleaned.

Then you remembered, “I am surrounded by buckets of sweat and cigarettes.”

Being around students who smoked and sweated a lot due to their frequent sports activities made you open all the classroom windows to get rid of the smell.

Bucky found it difficult to accept that his disorder could be triggered by your body odor.

Javier felt as though four eyes were judging him. He cleared his throat. “Ahem. Your case is one of a kind, Bucky. Perhaps her scent doesn’t trigger your trauma—” He didn’t continue when he felt someone glaring at him.

Trauma? Bucky’s trauma? You wondered what Javier meant.

Bucky crossed his arms and changed the subject. “So the solution to my disorder is the smell of a locker room?”

Javier raised both arms, trying to calm down his patient's anger. “I’m not saying it’s the solution, but it could be.”

Bucky sighed heavily. What kind of nonsense was this? But the way he met you was also out of the blue. His life is full of surprises now.

Author Note: Poor Cassandra. 🥺 Also the reader is a non-smoker.

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#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x you #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes au #james bucky buchanan barnes #buckybarnes #james bucky barnes #bucky fanfic #winter soldier #the winter soldier #james buchanan barnes #rich!bucky #ceo!bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barns x reader #bucky barns fanfiction #bucky barns imagine #bucky barns x y/n #bucky barnes x female!reader

[55sturn]

https://www.tumblr.com/55sturn/752204504537202688/send-in-some-requests-for-chris-please-i-miss

hanging out with chris and you slowly start to realize that you like him and you end up ghosting him 😭

✮ ALL I WANTED WAS YOU

pairing: chris sturniolo x fem!reader

synopsis: in which of an indirect proclamation of love doesn’t go the way it’s supposed to.

warnings: angst. that’s it.

you hadn’t meant for your relationship with chris to get this far. you had only meant to be friends with him, but the way he’d look at you, and the way he could answer all your favourite things without second guessing himself, and the way he’d hold you so close to him without even needing to ask if you need a hug, all had you looking at him in a different light.

and to say you were scared would be an understatement, you knew if you expressed your feelings to him, he’d give you the same line he gave his brothers any time they asked if you two were together; “nah man, i cant do that, not with her, she’s too important to me to wreck it by making things romantic.” knowing that it was his fear of love and heartbreak and commitment speaking, and while you understood where he was coming from, you couldn’t jeopardize your own heart. chris means a lot to you, he’s your best friend, so in a futile act of self preservation, you distanced yourself. and for about two months you thought it was working,

until chris showed up at your apartment at one in the morning. his eyes puffy and red-rimmed from crying. he was distraught, you were his best friend and he couldn’t grasp why you would suddenly push him away, and he demanded an explanation.

“why are you shutting me out i thought things were going good?” he croaks, his throat dry as he tries to voice the anger and confusion he’s feeling.

“chris it’s not worth explaining-wait what do you mean by ‘i thought things were going good?” you cut yourself off, his question hitting you a second later than it should’ve.

“as if it’s not obvious that i like you? that i have feelings for you, y/n and up until two months ago, i thought you felt the same.” he whispers, avoiding your gaze as you let out an exasperated sigh.

“i did, i do, but what about that shit you say to your brothers about me being too important to consider dating?”

“i just said that so they’d get off my back about us. i thought everything we did made it clear that i wanted this?” chris sighs, running a hand down his face as he watches your face morph into a mix of something sad and something confused.

“i wanted this too but i was so terrified of you not wanting to it too, of your fear of commitment getting in the way. i’m still so scared.”

“you are the one thing i have committed to in a long time, even without a real relationship existing. my fears about anything to do with a relationship went away the second they were met with the idea of hurting you or pushing you away.”

“but there’s so much at stake chris, my friendship with your brothers, the friends we share, not to mention my friendship with you. if i lose that, i lose everything that means something to me, everything that makes getting up in the morning worth it. everything that has shown me what love is. i can lose just about anything chris, but jesus christ, i cannot lose you.” you whisper, your eyes welling with tears as you shred every ounce of pride, allowing yourself to be bare for a moment, indirectly confessing just how deep your feelings for chris run.

“then don’t push me away, let us be together in the way we want to be, give us a chance, because you are everything i’ve wanted and more.”

“i’m sorry chris but i cant, not when you’re too valuable to me. i don’t want to risk anything. what if we break up and it’s not a good, mutual one? what if it’s harsh and cruel and crushes every chance we could have reconciling? i couldn’t live with that.” you sob, your fears becoming all encompassing as your mind begins to spiral of the torturous what ifs of the relationship souring between you and chris.

“you’re insane if you think i’d ever let you get away once i got a taste of what it’s like to be completely yours.” he whispers, his hands gently cradling your face as he pulls you to face him, his own tears gently trailing down his face, the salt in the tears turning his eyes red, make them seem a shade of such a clear blue that it makes it difficult to keep your own eyes trained on his.

“i’m sorry chris but it’s too risky. i think you should go.”

“well that’s your decision and i may not agree with it but i’m willing to wait until you change your mind, if you ever do. and if you do, you know where to find me.”

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© 55STURN 2024 ! REBLOGS NOT EXPECTED BUT GREATLY APPRECIATED ! [ you do not have permission to copy or save or share my work to other platforms and devices! ]

#chris sturniolo x reader #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo smut

[lilghostiequinni]

Not the Only One

Main Masterlist Lestappen Masterlist

Pairing: Norris!female oc (Lea) x Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc

Warnings: Fluffy,

Summary: She comes to Formula One as a photographer. Well, kind of. She's something else but a photographer nonetheless, but for three teams, she takes photos.

Requested: NO / yes (Saturday Poll)

The better part of all 10 teams was gathered in one of the many conferencing rooms in the F1 headquarters; every team had its own little section.

"Alright, well, we have a new member joining, she is a photographer to all teams, partially and three teams full time," Stefano says to the group of teams in the room as he walks in, a woman following behind.

"She is already assigned to one team of her choice. The other two will be determined via her terms," Stefano says, moving to the side for the woman to come forward.

"This is Lea, Lea Norris. She will also be taking team photos and the grid photo for this year's beginning," Stefano says, pointing to the woman as he does.

"Hello, I'm Lea. The team of my choosing was McLaren. I brought it up to Stefano about how to determine the other two teams I will be working for, and that is a charity race for what ever charity you choose. Any questions?" Lea asks the grid, and a few hands go up.

Lea pointed to Alex Albon, "How are you related to Lando? He never mentions you."

"Well, I'm his twin sister, his more successful little twin sister," Lea walks over to Lando and wraps her arms around his neck, and he holds her arms with his hands.

Carlos raises his hand next, "I would like to point out that I knew of you, just not what you do?"

Lea smiles, and Lando shakes his head, "She co-owns Quadrant with me because she can do the behind-the-scenes better than I can. She also owns her own clothing brand, Leona & Odan, also owning the multi-million dollar company Leletics, the company that makes many parts of the liveries and other things. Let's not forget her athletic ability," Lando says; he does an eye roll at the end but still has a smile.

"That is all true. I own the fashion company Leona & Odan, along with the company Leletics, which is also a design company not just for livery parts and 'stuff.' I also co-own Quadrant with my brother, but I am never on camera because I don't want to. I am also athletic. I do ballet and a few other sports myself. I am terrible at golf, though," Lea says, letting go of her brother to walk back to the front of the room.

She stands at the front of the room, watching the drivers.

"Why are you doing this?" Comes from the Mercedes team.

"Because I need a change of pace. I do what I love every day, but there is only so much I can do about my hobbies, such as photography. Also, I may have punched one of the chairmen to Leletics because he was there for a few years and still thought I was an assistant and not the CEO. He tried to do something that shouldn't be done, and I may have punched him a little too hard," Lea says with a fake smile on her face.

"Someone tried to touch you! Was it that asshole Brason?" Lando demands in big brother mode.

"It's fine, Lando, later, please," Lea begs her brother; Lando clenches his jaw but backs down.

For the next hour, she answers all the questions on what she is to do before she gets a question from one Max Verstappen, "So, what are we to do for this race?"

"The race is to determine what other two teams I'll technically work for, and for charity, the two teams to win will get to give 1 million dollars to a charity of their choosing. McLaren will also be competing because they don't want them left out, but they won't get anything if they win; a charity of their choice will still get a million dollars, and the charities of the rest of the teams will still get half a million dollars, each." Lea says before she continues. "Listen, I know it sounds bad because you don't even know what I can do, but I just want to give back, and I... I don't really know how to explain myself to you. I just want to do what got me started, talking pictures of racing."

It was basically a mock race in Silverstone; liveries were provided to each team, so everyone was on the same playing field as the racers; there was a single level of qualifying and a single free practice to get familiar with the car.

In the last laps of the race, it was pretty clear that the two other teams would be Red Bull and Ferrari, but Mercedes was still in the running for the third team, attempting to over take Ferrari.

But in the end, it was Ferrari that just barely beat Mecades as Carlos passed Hamilton.

Later that day, Formula One announced the addition of a three-team photographer, and the day after, McLaren, Red Bull, and Ferrari announced themselves as the three teams for the newest photographer

Lea proved herself, too, to all the teams, not just the three that had become her job, that she was capable of taking the necessary photographs in the sport of Formula One.

It was no surprise to her brother, though, when she showed up at Woking with a helmet for her brother, one he sort of forgot about. Just barely remembered a helmet design he told her for the 2024 season, so she designed it but did not tell him she designed it, giving it to him before testing as a surprise.

A/N: So, Lestappen won, but I will check later when the poll ends and post a thing about which two get one shot in a week. There will also be a part two posted in Week 3, it will take place in Maimi, Imola, and Monaco of the current season. This didn't have much Lestappen content, but in the next one it will.

Tags: If you want to be added to the lists or a single list, let me know

#formula 1 #f1 #max verstappen #cl16 #mv33 #mv1 #charles leclerc #lestappen #lestappen fic #lestappen x reader #lestappen fanfiction #lestappen x you #formula one #formula 1 imagine #formula one 2024 #f1 2024

[shesmore-shoebill]

we've talked about the scenarios where angela would lose her composure at seeing amanda (s&b outfit and billion dollar gf dress as examples) in the rpf world we've collectively built, but now i wanna know what specific scenarios about angela amanda would completely lose her cool/have a reaction from? (raspy voice like in the tapple video? seeing angela's tattoo? could be anything!)

Oh, fucking love this question, thank you for it. Lets see.

2 things: 1 Eternal disclaimer about this all being in RPF universe/my own hc's about characterization I've decided on, not the actual people. And 2 This is not an exhaustive list of the ways I think this could go/the only ways these can work, Im just tossing out fun options that come to mind that I find internally consistent.

Okay logistically, anything to make Amanda uncharacteristically lose her shit over Angela has to be at least slightly uncommon/unexpected. So as much as I'd like to say something like "Angela in a tank top /sleeveless shirt", stuff that happens regularly needs to have an extra edge to it to explain Amanda losing it this time and not the rest of the time. Or at least losing it more.

So that said:

- Raspy voice is so fucking fun, yes please. So much potential...

One possible route is Angela loses her voice semi-regularly (unfortunately) due to starkid and moon goon and also just regular yelling, and maybe Amanda thinks she's used to it, (and normally tries to offer her honey or checks to make sure she's fine). But she's used to Angela's being voice completely gone, and one day her voice is more raspy/rough instead of being gone gone, and Amanda's normal affectionate concern is completely bowled over by her 😳😳😳 reaction to it, because oh fuck. OR, Amanda is used to the raspy voice (so she thinks), but Angela makes a sex joke or a flirty joke In That Voice and Amanda is SLAMMED by the thought of the same comments/voice in a VERY different context and Completely Ceases To Function. Bonus if its on camera/during a shoot of some kind so Angela notices the initial reaction and plays it up for the bit and Amanda is just. Not volleying it back properly. Or is volleying it back with WAY too much energy and everyone else is in the room like. 😶👀. The tapple video... the tapple video with all tge sex jokes and angela's voice being gone could be a VERY fun starting point for a fic.

- Once again falling back to the thing I've been gleefully chattering about. Amanda being flustered by Angela being the one to initiate/flirt. Angela being really forward/aggressive with flirtation, or bring Very assertive with her flirting, or just. Commanding. I think Angela flirting aggressively when she's all decked out in some ridiculous costume or putting on a goofy voice or leaning into the absurdity is something Amanda is used to/can handle. But, lets say, Angela not in a completely ridiculous character, or Angela playing a character thats only a mildly exaggerated version of herself, and being very forward/flirtatious/assertive towards Amanda. And for Amanda its suddenly like Oh fuck oh god oh shit . Because it doesn't feel like a ridiculous character like Angelo or some mustachio'ed old man being horny, it feels like Angela leaning in and oozing confidence and dropping petnames and it should NOT be working on her but it VERY MUCH IS. So much potential. Sooo fucking funny.

- Angela dressing up hot. I haven't sorted out the most fun consistent headcanon I want for this but IF we were to lean into Angela not dressing up as often I think its. So fun. To have the alternate dynamic of Angela dresses up hot for an event (Shourtney engagement party?) and Amanda sees her and nearly fucking swallows her tongue and her self control falls out of a fucking window. I know that's the go-to Angela flustered by Amanda dynamic but I think it could be fun the other way too. 👀

- This might be. me. lmfao. shining through but if we went the tattoo route we could also go an Arms™ route.... tank top Angela.... I'd have to think about it, to explain why it ESPECIALLY gets to Amanda, and maybe the tattoo is why.

- If we want to lean into the more explicitly spicy options and kind of mirror the S&B Angela flustered headcanon..... Angela shows up wearing something like a choker or something and Amanda. finds herself thinking. Many things. Many many things.

- This idea has JUST come to me so I havent thought through the logistics of it yet but. Angela showing up with a hickey or something and Amanda should be professional and normal about it but. But. But. (this could be very funny, very horny, or angsty! Or all three!)

Pausing here bc this is getting long. But. I fucking love thinking about the hc's for this, thanks for this ask. and HEY HAPPY PRIDE lmfao.

#i didnt intend to take long enohgh to answer this that we ended up in pride month but HEY HERE WE ARE #ugh this is so fun though. 👀 i love imagining the logistics of flustered amanda..... #amanda lehan canto #angela giarratana #amangela #smosh rpf #ask tag #smosh hcs #smosh au #as always with these things people are free to take or expand or modify these ideas as they see fit but if/when im writing fic you might se #some of these ideas shamelessly lifted from my own answers #anyway. amangela thoughts. happy pride.

[starpirateee]

so I had a dream where Owen is drunk and outs himself to Curt...

do with that what you will.

Oh god 👀

Okay that could go a number of different ways, but fortunately, we all know how fruity Curt is, so let me try and take this in the least(?) Angsty direction that I possibly can...

Owen woke up on the morning of a bleak Sunday, with a headache perfectly tuned to the grey morning it had turned out to be, and a weight against his chest. At first, he thought it was a strange way the sheets had fallen over him, but then he came to realise that he wasn't actually in bed at all, but draped across the couch in the place he was temporarily sharing with his American operative partner.

And the weight on his chest?

Well… That was the American in question.

Laying on top of him. Fast asleep.

Owen startled, shifting so quickly out of this position— that was evidently comfortable for the both of them— that he managed to wake his partner up in the process. His eyes were wide, and he looked down towards Curt for an explanation, hoping to god that there was some way to rationalise how they had clearly slept the entire night.

"Mega? What the… hell are you doing?!"

He was beyond the point of words. There was something in the back of his mind that said he had done something last night that had led to Curt waking up on top of him, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what. They were talking last night, weren't they? Trying to get to know each other a little better…. And there was alcohol involved, as far as the headache revealed, anyway.

But he'd always been so controlled. Ever since figuring himself out, and figuring out for himself the reason his agency would want to hunt him down if ever they found out, he'd made sure not to drink in the company of anyone he wasn't comfortable with. While Curt was a nice man, as far as these things went, and while the two of them had been professional partners on more than one occasion, Owen wasn't entirely sure whether he'd go as far as saying he trusted him enough to get drunk in his presence.

But apparently, that very thing had happened the night before, and it had left them here.

The two of them resumed a position on the couch that separated them, and Curt shot him an apologetic glance. "Must've gotten late…" He excused quickly, lacing one of his hands within the other and trying his hardest to avert his gaze. It was hard to do that, though, after what the two of them had gone through last night… He was making excuses for himself, of course, because it was clear that Owen didn't remember what they'd talked about, at least not in the immediate moment.

He tried to offer a kind of peace. There was little he could do to explain the fact that he'd woken up— and had, in fact, fallen asleep— leaning against his chest, without Owen having the proper context as to why. Once the blur of sleep had passed and he'd woken up a little bit more, they'd talk it over then, but there was really only one thing he could do while the tension was still this high. "I need to wake up before we dive into… That. Coffee?"

Owen scrubbed a hand over his face and nodded blearily. "Please." And god only knows he was going to need it, too. How had he let himself make a mistake of this weight? How had he let himself slip, if indeed that was what had happened… There was no other explanation for it, and it was barely something he could blame on the alcohol.

He stared at the mostly empty bottle of liquor that was sitting on the coffee table as if the two of them had only just finished their late night of boozing, wondering what had been said and what he'd done to end up asleep… with another man… on a couch.

===

"Nah, c'mon. I barely know anything about you! sure, the first couple times we've worked together was nothing more than a coincidence, but damn, they're making us do it again, and I think there's a point this stops just being chance…" Curt pointed out, leaning against the counter in his kitchen. Owen had been assigned to the states, and because he'd worked with Curt a few times before, Curt had offered to put him up for the duration of his stay, instead of spending the time in some cheap, shitty hotel room, where he'd have to break his back just to get a good night's sleep.

But then he'd insisted that they talk, and that was fine as far as these things were concerned, but it was when he suggested bringing out the booze that Owen got a little worried. Sure, his assignment wasn't until the Monday, so he had the whole weekend to sort himself out (since he'd arrived early), but the thought of participating in such an activity with a man who he'd previously only worked with sparked a little concern. "I'm not sure…"

"You don't hafta work till Monday, that's on you for getting here this early…"

"Yes, but—"

"What? You don't drink?" Curt looked him up and down, and shrugged. "I mean, that's fine and all…"

"No, I… Do drink, but—" He couldn't think of a good enough protest in time, because the moment that he admitted that he was, in fact, partial to a good drink, Curt lit up a little bit more.

"Sure you don't wanna?"

And after that, he'd lost most of the fight that may or may not have been present in him. It had been a long flight and a longer journey, and the lag was starting to catch up to him. He couldn't deny the fact that the warm flood of whiskey in his system would've made the deep tiredness settling into his very bones a little more manageable. He conceded with a sigh, and an all too naive declaration of "I suppose a drink or two won't hurt," to which Curt grinned.

"That's the spirit!"

===

Curt returned to the couch in a matter of minutes with two mugs of fresh coffee, and as soon as Owen had his in his hands, he was absently tapping his fingernails against the warm porcelain. Part of him didn't dare to ask what had gone down, in case Curt had a perfect recollection of what he'd said, and it was something he'd rather not hear. But, at the same time, he was curious as to how the two of them had ended up as they had been.

First port of call was coffee. That was a necessary step in both waking him up, and trying to jog his short term memory even slightly. Last night, he had arrived in America, and he'd taken up the offer to drink with a man who barely crossed the 'friend' boundary, and then a series of unknowable somethings led to the two of them falling asleep together. And he was a little unnerved in knowing those events happened in that order, because that likely meant they'd made mistakes, where mistakes shouldn't have been made.

It woke him up a little more than he expected, and it dawned on him that he wasn't entirely sure when the last time he'd had coffee was, given that it was often far too strong for his tastes, especially first thing on a morning. This was necessary, though. He needed the rush to better explain the happenings of last night.

Curt seemed a little more relaxed than he was. At least he was able to sink a little into the sofa as he nursed his own mug. The only difference was that he looked a little more uncertain, as if it was him who had set into motion this series of mistakes, and he was the one with something to say about it.

"Where do we start?" It was the only question that really mattered, the only one he could think to ask that made any semblance of sense. Owen felt the tension in his shoulders, resting dormant and adding that annoying slight of strain to his every move.

"How much do you remember?" Curt asked cautiously, turning so that the two of them were better facing one another.

This was a question to which Owen tried to genuinely find an answer. He was trying to assimilate his memories, and what little remained beyond the haze of everything, but there wasn't a lot that he would consider useful. "Not… As much as I'd like to, I'm afraid. I made it here around seven, perhaps later… And I'd barely been here an hour when you suggested we… How'd you put it, 'get to know each other'. You suggested bringing out the spirits, and after the flight I'd had, there was little in the way of argument, so… I took you up on the offer."

"That's… Awfully specific." Curt hummed. "Thought you said you didn't remember a lot."

"That's not a lot."

"What time was your flight in the morning? Where from?"

"Six thirty, from the fourth terminal at Heathrow," Owen answered automatically, without having to think about it. Curt laughed, and it was in that moment that Owen realised that their definitions of 'not a lot' were likely vastly different from each other.

"Good god."

"Okay… I see your point… Other than the specifics, I don't remember what we talked about all too well… It's a little blurred, I'm afraid."

Curt hummed, trying to think about this in a way that made sense to him. He didn't remember a great deal either, but it seemed Owen had him outmatched for exactly how much. He remembered a little of their conversation, and what had gone down that night, but it was clearly something that was going to take the both of them to figure out. "Okay, well, I'm not exactly clear either. We got to drinking, right? Must've had a few, I swear that bottle was nearly full when we started…"

"Really?"

"I think so… Anyway, it was all casual at first. I mean, the two of us are barely friends, right? And I just wanted to get to know you a little better, like you said. So, we just started talking about ourselves… Y'know, how we got into spying, why you were in America…"

"Oh, right. Of course." Owen nodded, following along. How the two of them had gotten into the industry made sense, that was a good place to start. It was always a decent point of conversation in a professional matter, and especially among two who were so similar in nature after all was said and done. "I remember you saying something about… wanting to do something for the people that wasn't what everyone else was doing. Wanting to stand out a little from the crowd, is that right?"

"Yeah, that's pretty much the exact reason I got into all of this… It's less about wanting to make that kinda impact that everyone else is making, when there's the option for me to do something better."

"Makes sense, I can't say I blame you for that."

"And you're in the country to uncover some kinda arms deal, yeah?"

"One hundred and fifty grand's worth of explosives and arms. Quite the quarry, if I dare say so." Owen recalled that much from reading his briefing file in any spare moment he could while he was still alone. It needed revising when he was less hungover, but that was a problem for a few hours time. Right now, there was a more pressing matter at hand.

Curt whistled, impressed. "It'd take most people an age to make that much."

"Tell me about it."

The coffee was doing something to clear his mind enough that he was starting to see how the conversation played out last night. As a matter of fact, they had started the night seated in different places, and Curt kept subtly adjusting himself into different positions on the armchair as the time progressed. He was right, they had both taken several drinks each, and their conversations had taken a rather merrier turn. "We didn't stop at the professional, did we? I seem to recall bringing up things we'd done in the past, and you mentioned how much you hate getting intelligence jobs."

"Mhm," Curt nodded, Owen's phrasing bringing this to mind in exactly the right way. "Yeah, I do. God, they always make you get with some girl you've gotta charm all the way to the bedroom, and then you've gotta pretend like you enjoy that part of the job while she's taking your shirt off, and all you want to do is find out what her associates are getting up to behind closed doors."

That was mutual. Of course, there was a reason behind that hatred on Owen's end, but it wasn't like that was something he'd ever told anyone. He'd always taken Curt— so long as he'd known him— for the type who seemed happy to charm a woman and take those assignments in his stride. But the way he'd talked about it couldn't be denied… If he was more passionate about it, Owen would've said that he outright hated it. But, that only led to further speculation as to the reason why.

The penny dropped.

There was only one real reason why someone wouldn't enjoy the passionate part of the job, or the part that involved waking up next to a slew of different women all because information was needed out of them. There was only one reason why someone wouldn't enjoy the thrill of being with a woman, even just for a night.

The penny clattered to the metaphorical ground in Owen's mind. His face heated up furiously, to the point where Curt took notice.

"Owen?"

"… I think I know what I admitted to last night."

Curt sighed, a little out of it still. This progression didn't look good, especially not with the way that Owen had reacted to it. His brow furrowed, and he almost dared himself to ask him to continue. That, as it turned out, was an unnecessary step, since it seemed Owen had also figured out how they had ended up spending the night on top of each other.

"… Curt, if I may ask, there is a reason you don't like sleeping with women on the job, isn't there?"

It was just the two of them, as it had been the night before. There was nobody else around, and the whole reason this building was classified as a safehouse was because nobody could infiltrate, either. So, they had gotten drunk. Curt had admitted to the reason why he didn't like sleeping with women, and Owen must've agreed. The two of them had fallen asleep that night under the alarming pretense that they were just the same, when all came down to it, in the strangest and most sudden solidarity that one could hope to experience.

Curt seemed to want to freeze up, like someone had caught him out for something they really shouldn't know, but then remembered that they'd clearly gone over all of this the night before. He let the tension drop from his shoulders— something Owen really wished was that easy— and gave in with a resigning nod. "And you too, right? There's gotta be a reason we ended up…"

"Yes."

"So you're…"

"… Yes."

===

"Yeah, no it's never been my thing to get in with a lady… 'M not into 'em." Curt shook his head, emptying his glass with a single tilt of his wrist.

"Not into… Women?"

"No." Curt answered, a little too quickly. "Never was, don't think I ever will be…"

Owen nodded, for to a revelation like this, he had little in the way of a better answer. He was in exactly the same boat. The two of them were one and the same, cut from the same cloth. That made them more alike than he'd realised. "Me neither," He hummed, because his mind was clouded, and he didn't have the chance to think it through, but he didn't care because finally— finally— there was someone just like him.

Curt's eyes went wide, and he leaned forwards again to see whether he'd heard Owen correctly. "Wait, hol' on, you… You're… Y'know— like me? We're—?"

"I s'pose we are."

"What're the chances..?"

"Wouldn't 've bet on it, 's for sure. Not good odds, finding 'nother gay agent."

#spies are forever #saf #curtwen #agent curt mega #owen carvour #void offering #star mail #nova's tags → #i had a lot of ideas for this one. it was always just a matter of which one made the draft #there's surprisingly little chance that it'd end badly though #especially since curt's gay himself #if there's only curt in the room then theres no way it could go badly #but this is me. i had to make it at least slightly tense...

[sergeantbarnessdoll]

Should’ve Known Better » Steve Kemp

Pairings: Steve Kemp x Female Reader

Summary: You should’ve known better than to escape from Steve.

Warnings: mix of Angst and Fluff, language, attempted escape, mention of cannibalism, trust issues, crying, kissing, pet names

Written on my phone. I’m sorry for any mistakes.

Header made by @buckys-wintersoldier

GIF IS NOT MINE! Credit goes to the creators. I found it on Pinterest.

Steve is slowly starting to trust you and he gave you free rein of the house a month ago. You decided to roam the house while Steve was on the phone. You started in the living room and then went to the kitchen. You stopped when you found the front door of the house. You looked behind you, checking to make sure Steve wasn’t behind you. When the coast was clear, you slowly walked towards the door. You looked out of one of the windows that were on either side of the door, pushing the curtain to the side. Your eyes glanced down at the door knob. You were tempted to put your hand on the door knob, turn it, and escape. You thought about it for a second. If you open the door quietly, Steve will never know. You shrugged your shoulders. “What’s the worst that can happen?” You thought to yourself.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Steve asks from behind you.

A squeak left your lips and you turned around. Your eyes widened when you seen Steve. You gulped, scared of what he’s going to do to you for attempting to escape.

“I uhh…” You tried to think of an excuse, but couldn’t come up with one.

“You uhh what?” He mocked.

“I just wanted to get some fresh air.” You say, lying through your teeth.

Steve looked at you for a few seconds before saying anything. He knows when you’re lying and that’s what you’re doing right now.

“Nice try, sweetheart, but that’s not what you were going to do now, was it?” He says.

You couldn’t think of an answer for him. Your instincts were telling you to run which you did. You didn’t get far cause Steve grabbed you from behind and picked you up. Your heart started pounding. You thought he was going to take you back to the basement. You didn’t want that so you tried to fight him off.

“L-Leave me go!” You pleaded. “I’m sorry! I-I won’t do it again! I promise!” You say, trying to reason with him.

“You’re making it really hard to trust you, Y/N.” Is all he says.

Instead of taking you to the basement, Steve carried you upstairs to one of the bedrooms. He put you on the bed and walked out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him. You got off of the bed and ran to the door, pounding your fists on it.

“Stevie, please!” You begged. “Please don’t do this!” You say.

“You did this to yourself, sweetheart. You should’ve known better.” Steve says before walking away.

“Steve!” You called out for him, but he didn’t answer.

Your bottom lip quivered and your eyes watered. You got back on the bed, curling yourself up in the fetal position and started crying. You felt bad for your actions. Steve is right. You should’ve known better.

You didn’t even know you fell asleep cause you woke up to the sound of Steve unlocking the door. You quickly sat up, watching as he opened the door. He brought you breakfast. He sat it on the nightstand next to the bed before take a seat on the bed in front of you. He noticed your eyes were red and puffy from crying. He felt bad, but you need to learn your lesson.

“You know I’m doing this for your own good, baby.” Steve says, putting a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“No you’re not. You wouldn’t do this if you just let me explain myself.” You say.

“Then explain yourself.” He says.

You still didn’t have an answer for him. You just sat there and looked down at your lap.

“Still don’t have an answer, huh?” He stood up. “Let me know when you’re ready to talk about why you were trying to escape yesterday.” He says.

You watched as he walked out of the room, closing and locking the door behind him. You stared at the closed door for a moment before eating the breakfast he brought you.

Steve left you locked in that bedroom for a week. He brought you food and something to drink everyday you were in there. You felt bad for trying to escape him by the end of the week. You sat on the bed, zoned out and thinking about your actions. You didn’t even hear the door being unlocked and opened, that’s how zoned out you were. Steve walked towards you and sat down on the bed in front of you. You were pulled from your thoughts when Steve put his hand on your cheek, caressing it.

“Are you ready to explain yourself?” Steve asks softly.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. “I was trying to escape.” You tell him. “I was trying to leave you. I just wanted some fresh air.” You explained. “I deserve to be punished for what I did- or what I tried to do I mean.” You say, looking down at your lap.

“Sweetheart…” His voice is soft. “I’m not mad.” He says.

You lifted your head and looked at him, furrowing your eyebrows in confusion.

“You’re not mad?” You asked.

“No.” He says.

“You’re not going to punish me like what you did to those other women?” You asked.

“No, of course not.” He assured. “I told you that I like- I love you.” He says.

You looked at him. This is the first time he’s said I love you to you.

“You love me?” You asked. “Even after what I tried to do?” You say.

“Yes.” He says.

Steve leaned in, kissing you sweetly. Butterflies erupted in your stomach.

“I love you too.” You say against his lips.

Steve kissed you once more before picking you up and carrying you out of the room and to the bedroom you share with him.

“How about you take a nice hot shower and I’ll make us something to eat.” Steve says.

“Ok.” You say with a smile.

After your shower, you walked in the kitchen wearing a pair of sleep shorts and one of Steve’s shirts. Steve smiles when he sees you. He walks up to you and gives you a kiss.

“I really am sorry.” You apologized again.

“It’s ok. I forgive you.” He says softly.

🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵🩵

-Bucky’s Doll

#steve kemp #fresh movie #fresh 2022 #sebastian stan #sebastian stan characters #steve kemp x female reader #steve kemp x reader #steve kemp x y/n #steve kemp x you #steve kemp angst #steve kemp fluff #steve kemp one shot #steve kemp imagine

[7nessasaryevils]

Things that made me scream during ep 5 of Wandee Goodday

- Dee can remember every single person's birthday but he hadn't memorized Yak's yet

- Yak pouting when he realized Dee didn't know his birthday

- YAK COUNTING THE FUCKING SECOND OF HOW LONG HE AND DEE HAVE BEEN TOGETHER (read: TOGETHER, not fucking/ FWB)

- that whole fucking interaction with Cher and Yei (yes babes! Complain that you haven't gotten fucked for a while you deserve to be dicked down!)

- Kao being the King he is and offering valuable suggestions for Dee and Yak on how to improve their lives (and sex lives) using his furry accessories ♥️

- Dee offering good fashion advice... sir thank you for your service in getting Yak out of those (delectable) elephant pants - but... Taem is probably better at putting him in clothes that work

- grammammamamamamamana I love her and she is now the communal granmama

- DICK PLUSH TOY (seriously where can I get one??)

- granmama knows

- STEPPING OVER THE LINE!!! THE GASP I GUSPED (also wandee my precious my baby protect your heart please yak is gonna be a little stupid I know it)

- brb screaming crying throwing up because NEITHER of them can sleep without holding each other

- the pouting, cuddling, "need you to recharge me" YORYAK!! GET YOUR HEAD OUT OF YOUR PERT ASS YOU DUMB JOCK! This is boyfriend level behaviour!

- Dee's smile as he curls into Yak 🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

- the only time I screamed in rage: how dare you ask Dee if Taem would like while you hold motherfucking Wandee in your arm- I'm going to snap a boxer's neck (what did I say about yak doing something stupid?!)

- FUCKING WHEEZING GRANMAMA YOU ABSOLUTE QUEEN

- ... he took Yak to see his parents... I'm fine gwenchana gwenchana

- SJAXHWKZNKSJXNWKSW YORYAK YOU BUFFOON- don't you want to introduce your BOYFRIEND to your parents?! someone hold me back before I smack this idiot

- Cher doing the sneaky sneak and failing 🤣 also Yei not taking Cher with him because he knows his boyfie doesn't like the macho assholes 🥹♥️

- Yak dressing the way Dee told him to... fucking hell

- yak showing up to help his boyfriend thanks I wanna throw up

- Dr. Wandee using his and Yoryak's furry sex personas to help tell children a story was not on my 2024 bingo card 👀

- yak wanting to celebrate with Dee rather than his friends... this idiot

- I CAN EAT YOU WITHOUT WAITING- YORYAK PLEASE

- domestic food fight my beloved (also yak refusing to let Dee do anything cooking wise because he doesn't want to poison Granmama 🤣)

- I do so love an aptly placed song that perfectly explains the conflict of our main characters ♥️♥️

- sir. Yoryak. For someone who claims they like Taem, you sure do lean in to kiss Dee a lot 👀👀👀

- THAT CAPTION... gonna go yeet myself off their building thanks

-... couple toothbrushes... COUPLE TOOTHBRUSHES

- wandeeyoryak vs. Yoryakwandee... help me

This show is everything to me right now and I will hold onto it with my dying breath

#wandee gooday the series #yak x wandee #wandee goodday #yoryakwandee #wandeeyoryak #yoryak phadetseuk #oyeicher #plakao #the king we all deserve #ter continues to be his regular annoying self...

[collapsedglasshouses]

WOULD YOU SAY I'M WORTHY || FOUR

PAIRING: Noah Sebastian x OFC ; slight Nick Folio x OFC

DIVIDER ART WORK BY @saradika-graphics

SUMMARY: When Eden meets Noah, her life is anything but perfect. Her heart is far more broken than Noah can even guess at this point. Will he be able to mend the wounds he hadn’t caused?

WARNINGS: angst, fluff, eventually smut, mentions of grief/loss, mentions of alcohol consumption, mentions of mental health issues, mentions of illnesses

A/N: This was sitting in my drafts for way too long, bc I kept editing and editing... But we're gonna ignore that c:

TAGLIST: @measuredingold @cncohshit @lma1986 @missduffsblog @cookiesupplier @thescarlettvvitch @bngurngheart @dream-machine-love @arkiliastuff @vinyardmauro @lacktoesandtoddlerants @princessmarshmallowx @circle-with-me @thisbicc @xxkittenkissesxx @malerieee @smoke-in-diamond-shape @thatgirlforever5 @veronicaphoenix @justeli6

If you wanna be added to the story's taglist or to my taglist in general, leave a comment or message me privately!

MASTERPOST || MASTERLIST

CONTENT WARNING FOR THIS CHAPTER: THIS CHAPTER DEALS WITH THE LOSS OF A LOVED ONE! PLEASE DON'T READ IF IT BOTHERS YOU TOO MUCH. TAKE CARE OF YOURSELF AND WE SEE EACH OTHER IN ANOTHER CHAPTER/STORY! ♡

When Eden woke up on the couch in Nick’s room, it took her a moment to realize where she was. Her consciousness snapped fully into focus when she heard Nick turn in his bed, now facing in the direction of the couch. Sitting up slightly, she glanced at him. A strand of his dark hair had fallen onto his face as she gazed over his sleeping form. She was aware that it might have seemed a bit odd to be caught staring at the boy in front of her, but there was something about his presence that eased her. She didn’t know if it were his reassuring smiles or the casual chats she had with him over the last weeks at work, she just really liked being around him. Perhaps that was why she had agreed to go to the party, despite her aversion to such gatherings, especially since it happened to fall on her birthday, a celebration she typically hated too.

As Nick stirred, Eden instinctively shifted in her position, wary of being caught in her reverie.

“Are you awake, Eden?” Nick's voice broke the silence.

“Yes,” she replied, faking sleepiness.

Nick propped himself up on his arm, smiling warmly at her. “You know, I’m proud of you.”

A blush crept on Eden’s cheeks. “Why’s that?”

“We may not know each other too well, but it means a lot to me that you came to the party,” Nick explained.

“Oh, don’t worry,” Eden replied, a hint of falsehood in her words. “I actually quite enjoyed it.”

She wasn’t entirely lying; despite her discomfort in large crowds, she had found solace in her conversation with Noah outside.

“That’s actually nice to hear.” Nick answered her with a bright smile that she could just mirror. He was so sweet, she didn’t even know how to act.

Right as Nick was about to say something else, there was a knock on the door next to Eden that Nick answered. One of Nick’s bandmates, Jolly peaked inside the room with closed eyes. “I hope you all are clothed, I’m coming in.”

“Oh shut up, man.” Nick answered him and let his head fall onto his pillow, but Eden caught how his cheeks turned a slight pink tone.

“Good morning, love birds.” Jolly said with a grin on his face, but Eden came to the rescue. “You realize I’m laying on the couch about six feet away from Nick.”

“Doesn’t mean you slept there, darling.” Jolly answered with a wink in her direction that made her roll her eyes.

“I just wanted to know if you want something for breakfast, Noah and I are heading out to get something edible.” He continued but right as Eden was about to answer her phone rang. She recognized the ringtone and almost fell of the couch grabbing her phone.

“I need to get that.”

With that she slipped out under the blanket and left the room.

“So, when are you finally confessing that you are head over heels for that girl?” Jolly teased his friend that was still laying in his bed.

“Could you finally stop? I do not have a crush on her.” – “So, you just stop by a random bar multiple times a week because… you’re an alcoholic?” Jolly wanted to know but Nick simple rolled his eyes and got up from the bed.

“Get out of my room and get me a coffee or I might kill you on the spot.”

Jolly just giggled before leaving his room again. Nick’s thoughts shot right back to Eden. She looked stressed when her phone rang.

Nick quickly got ready and headed downstairs. First, he was met with Noah, already wearing a jacket and ready to go out.

“Have you seen Eden?” Nick quickly asked.

“She’s outside on the phone.” Noah answered him honestly. Noah had thought about following her outside since he saw the worried expression on her face but when he dared to give her a second glance and she was on the phone with someone, he kept his distance. He caught himself sometimes staring outside the window. Eden looked stressed. Worse than she already had been. Noah knew something was going on inside of her, but he also knew he didn’t know her well enough to get into her business.

“Maybe, you should wait for her.” Noah suggested and Nick nodded heavily.

“I’ll bring you a coffee and a croissant or something.” Noah mumbled before patting his friend on the shoulder and heading out with Jolly.

It didn’t take long until Eden stepped into the house again. Nick noticed how glossy her eyes were.

“I’m really sorry, but I need to go.” She mumbled under her breath, scared to let her new friend know she had cried.

“Are you sure, you can drive?” Nick asked with a caring voice while Eden hugged herself.

“Yeah… Everything is fine, but it would be nice if I could borrow some clothes. I can’t go back home, and I don’t want to wear that dress again.” She really tried her hardest to not let her emotions show. She was slowly going insane.

“Sure!” With that Nick ran upstairs and searched for a pair of joggers that she could wear and her purse. When he came down again, he saw Eden biting her nails in impatience.

“I know they are a tad too big, but I don’t have anything else for you.” Nick said while handing her the clothes.

“Oh, don’t worry.” Eden whispered and ran into the bathroom downstairs to get dressed. As soon as she was ready, she came back and stood in front of Nick for a second, awkwardly looking towards the door.

“Thank you for having me. I guess, I’ll see you at work sometime.” She mumbled before hugging him tightly. She wished she could stay, she really did. But reality called.

When Eden stepped outside, she took a deep breath. The cold November wind was howling as she walked to her car. She tried to block out any negative feelings that started to come up as she started her car. It took her about an hour to reach her destination but when she was there, she felt nauseous. She knew she should have come here more frequently but her heart just couldn’t take it.

She walked through the entrance of the hospital and was quickly met with the girl at the reception.

“Uhm… I’m here because of Dylan. Dylan McAdams.” She said, her voice not more than a broken whisper.

“Oh yeah, we called you about an hour ago right?” – “Yes.”

“Follow me, I’ll get you to his room.” The woman in front of her told her with a faint smile on her face. Eden knew she tried her best to keep a positive attitude. She knew this was all a façade. It was bad.

She walked behind the nurse that didn’t walk into the intensive care unit, to Eden’s surprise. Her heart sank with each step. Before they could even reach his room, they were met with another nurse.

“Eden! It’s good to see you again.” The nurse said calmly and touched Eden’s shoulder for comfort. She was here so many times they were on first name basis.

“Layla.” Eden only answered and forced a smile on her face. Layla noticed and her smile dropped a little.

“We need to talk to you about something.” The nurse said and Eden closed her eyes for a second. She didn’t know what to expect anymore.

Layla guided her to a room that had a desk and chairs in it. A simple office. Dr. Johnson was already in it.

“Is he dead?” Eden blurted out before Layla could even close the door. She needed to know.

“Please sit down, Eden.” The doctor in front of her said calmly, while Eden was starting to panic.

“Please tell me he isn’t dead.” She pleaded with the man, and he sighed.

“You know, Dylan has been in a coma for a long while now.” Eden nodded at the doctor’s statement.

“We’ve been checking his brain functions daily.” The doctor continued. “We need to inform you that we sadly haven’t been able to track any brain function for the past 30 hours. Dylan is brain dead.”

Eden’s breath caught in her throat. It felt like her soul left her body and she was now staring at the scene from above. Everything felt unreal. She felt like someone put cotton wool in her ears. She saw the doctor spoke up again, but she couldn’t hear it. This couldn’t be real. She forced her eyes close for a second, hoping when she opened them again, she would wake up on Nick’s couch. This wasn’t happening.

Layla noticed how stiff Eden became and grabbed her shoulder softly.

Eden couldn’t hear a thing the doctor said. Everything that happened in the last couple of months playing in her head. She gave everything up to be here. To care for him. Everything started to feel useless. She knew he wasn’t in the wrong. He was ill. He was so ill. But she couldn’t shake the feeling of betrayal. Like Dylan gave up on her.

“Can I see him?” She blurted out, stopping the doctor’s monologue about how to continue, mainly because she couldn’t even hear it anyways.

“Of course, Layla can discuss the formalities with you.” The doctor answered. Formalities. As if Dylan was an object.

Eden felt numb when Layla directed her out of the room.

Machines beeped softly in the background as Eden entered the room. The setting casted a sterile glow over the scene. When her eyes met Dylan’s frame, she couldn’t hold herself together any longer. Tears started to run down her face.

As Eden stepped closer to Dylan’s bed, she tried her hardest to suppress her cries. There was a mixture of hope and reality in her eyes. Dylan laid there, motionless. He was hooked up to various tubes and monitors, his chest rising and falling in a rhythmical pace that wouldn’t be possible without the assistance of the ventilator.

“Oh Dylan…” Eden cried out with a trembling voice and reached out for his hand, gently taking it in hers. Her fingers traced the familiar contours of his palm as guilt washed over her. She hadn’t been to the hospital in quite a while since Dylan had fallen into a coma. She was distracted with moving to California to be closer to him and since he wasn’t even conscious, she had tried to get her life together for some time. She regretted not visiting him more frequently.

She leaned in close, her breath hitching in her throat as she studied his still and pale face.

“Can you hear me, love? It’s me… Eden… I’m here… Please, wake up and tell me this is a joke, Dylan.” She whispered as tears ran down her face.

She pressed her lips to his forehead, her touch tender yet desperate. But Dylan didn’t move. He didn’t open his eyes and smiled at her like he used to. He remained unresponsive and she started to realize she would never see his smile again.

“Dylan, please. I can’t do this. Please come back to me.” She exclaimed, her voice broken, and her eyes fixated on his closed eyes. His expression was empty.

Eden’s heart ached with longing as she gazes down at him, grappling with the harsh reality of their situation. Slowly but surely, the realization dawned upon her, and her grip tightened on his hand as if she searched for a flicker of light.

Eden knew he was gone. She knew the Dylan she had met in Highschool, the Dylan she fell in love with, the Dylan that was by her side for the last decade, wasn’t here anymore. She knew the only thing bonding him to this world was machines attached to him.

She wondered how it could come to this. She wondered how they ended up like this. In this nightmare.

She was reliving the day of the diagnosis like it was her personal living hell. She remembered how his headaches started and how they were slowly but surely getting worse. She remembered how his demeanor shifted. How he became darker and more aggressive. She remembered how she begged him to get it checked out by a neurologist. She remembered how he cried in her arms for hours after they told him he had brain cancer. She remembered every surgery he underwent. Every chemotherapy. Every sleepless night in that hospital. She remembered how mad her parents were when she told them she sold her and Dylan’s home to move to LA to be closer to him. She remembered the last time he kissed her and told her it was going to be fine.

Nothing was fine. Dylan was dead. Her husband was dead.

“Eden?” Layla asked carefully, causing the woman to jump a bit. Eden nodded.

“I know this is incredibly difficult for you, but there are some decisions that need to be made about Dylan’s care.” Layla’s voice was soft. She was good at her job, Eden knew that. Layla was by their side the whole time. Every time Eden accidently fell asleep on the hard hospital chairs, she would wake up to a coffee and wrapped up in a blanket. She knew this had been Layla’s work and she was thankful for every second with her.

“What are the options?” Eden asked, her voice almost being gone from crying.

“The machines are keeping Dylan’s body functioning, but there is no hope of recovery. We need to discuss the options, such as withdrawing life support or considering organ donation.” Layla informed the woman in front of her. It broke Layla’s heart. She had seen a lot of things during her time as a nurse, but Dylan and his wife had grown close to her. She knew Eden avoided the hospital in the last couple of months, but Layla couldn’t be mad. She wanted nothing but for Eden to move on. She hoped Eden could move on from this.

Eden’s breath caught in her throat again, her mind reeling with the enormity of the decision before her. She looked back at Dylan again. His face peaceful yet devoid of life and she knew that she couldn’t keep him dangling in this world for much longer.

“Thank you, Layla. I understand… I need to make a call… Can you leave me alone for a second?”

“Of course, take your time.” Layla answered Eden before quietly leaving the room.

With a heavy heart, Eden leaned in close to him once more, pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek before letting go of his hand for a final time to make the most difficult decision of her life.

She needed to call his brother. She needed to call Ryan.

PART FIVE COMING SOON

#bad omens fanfiction #bad omens fanfic #bad omens fic #noah sebastian fanfiction #noah sebastian fic #bad omens rpf #noah sebastian fanfic #collapsedglasshouseswrites #noah sebastian x oc #noah sebastian x ofc #nick folio fic #nick folio fanfic #nick folio x ofc

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

Congrats with the followers! You deserve it! May I request Demi Lovato’s “Catch Me” with Hunter?

Hello anon!

Thank you so much for the congrats and for the request. You're too sweet.

I hope you love what I did with Demi Lovato's "Catch Me".

Love oo.

Catch Me

Warnings: Unrequited love, one night stand, implied coitus, pushing away, angst, brief mention of Order 66, tenderness, longing, declaration of feelings. I think that's it, if I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Hunter was always making it difficult for you. 

It wasn’t on purpose, but everything he did kept drawing your eyes. 

It was the little things he did, the smile he always greeted you with in the mornings. The fact he always saved you a seat so you could be close to the fire when you guys were on missions. The way he checked up on you, it was just making it easier for you to keep falling for him. 

You couldn’t let yourself fall. No, if you did, it would only cause heartache. 

Yet, somehow you ended up here, sneaking out of his quarters after you both had too much to drink. It had been a mistake to have a night of passion with the Sergeant of your unit. You were their medic, a civilian contract. You shouldn’t be here, you quietly got dressed and exited his quarters as fast as you could, heading to your own room. 

It was days later when Hunter finally confronted you. 

“Listen, please!” Hunter cornered you on the Marauder, the guys had left already to secure the perimeter, “I’m sorry if I overstepped. If I … I wasn’t good enough …”

Your eyes widened, is that what he had thought this entire time? You shook your head, rubbing your forehead, “No. It’s not …” you let out a loud sigh, as you tried to find the best way to explain this, “Hunter it’s not what you think. It’s not because …” your face heated as you thought about that night, you cleared your throat focusing back on the here and now, “Trust me, Hunter, you were very good. It’s just - - you and I both know this can’t go anywhere.”

“Why not?”

“Can you see any future where this could work? I mean let’s be serious. It was a fun night, but we should forget it ever happened.”

“What if I don’t want to forget it?”

“Hunter, be logical for a minute. What’s going to happen? Either you realize I’m not what you want, I get transferred to another unit, or something worse happens. Let’s just say we had a fun night and move on.”

Hunter didn’t respond, he simply put his helmet back on and stormed off the Marauder. You leaned against the wall, your heart clenching as you watched him walk away. There was no future here, you reminded yourself. You didn’t want to get your hopes up, it would’ve killed you knowing the future you had thought of would never come true. 

You followed behind him shortly, and even though you wanted to move on, to stop feeling so completely hypnotized by him, you couldn’t stop falling for him even in this moment. 

The following weeks passed by faster than you thought it had been possible, it felt like you were constantly in hyper speed, and before you knew everything turned on its head, once Order 66 was issued. 

Now months later, you were all on the run. Crosshair had joined the Empire. Omega ran away with you, and you somehow fell even harder for Hunter than you had previously thought possible. 

You sat outside of the Marauder as you looked up to the night sky, you needed to clear your head, despite the fact you ended it before it even began your heart still clung to Hunter. 

As much as that worried, you had bigger worries now, it’d been a few months you all started working for Cid. You didn’t trust her, but there weren’t a lot of options for work; so you all were making the best out of a somewhat bad situation. Your thoughts were interrupted when you felt a blanket draped around your shoulders. You looked up to see Hunter smile as he took a seat beside you.

“Didn’t want you to catch a cold.”

“Thanks.”

Even though that night was almost a year ago, things were still somewhat awkward between you two.

“What were you thinking about?”

You turned to look at Hunter, remembering how soft his lips felt, how strong his hands were… you closed your eyes and turned back to look at the fire pushing that one night out of your mind, “How I don’t trust Cid. We need to get out of this arrangement as soon as possible.”

“Nothing we can do about that right now.”

“I know. Story of our lives.” You let out a huff of irritation.

“What do you mean?” Hunter turned to look at you, ever since that one night he had with you his heart had never been the same. You had a hold on him that nothing short of death would release him. He tried to steal as many glances of you as possible, wanting nothing more than to hold you in his arms again. 

“We never seem to be able to do the things we want to.”

He nodded as he moved subtly closer to you, wanting to feel your heat even if it was from a distance that kept you away from him. “Maybe, but I’m willing to try and figure things out.”

You turned to look at him, “What?” He couldn’t mean what you were hoping, because if he was going to say the one thing you wanted to hear, all you could pray for was that he wouldn’t break you.

He smiled as he reached over and plucked off a leaf that was stuck to your head, “I’m saying, I don’t want to say goodbye. I don’t want this to unravel. I want to be the one that catches you.” He leaned his lips close to yours, “I’m saying, I love you.”

Main Master List   | Star Wars Jukebox Roulette |   AO3 Link

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal @crosshair-is-the-superior-clone @totallyunidentified @griffedeloup @leotatombs @leotawrites

#575 follower celebration! #Jukebox Roulette #Love oo #I hope you guys have fun with this #Follower Celebration #Star Wars Fic Roulette #Fic Roulette #star wars the clone wars #star wars: the clone wars #star wars #starwars #the clone wars #the Mandalorian #Andor #Book of Boba Fett #original trilogy #Obi-wan #Ahsoka #The Bad Batch #star wars prequels #Didn't expect to do another follower celebration so soon #pick your character #tell me your favourite song #hunter x you #hunter x reader #tbb hunter #tbb #hunter bad batch #hunter #the bad batch hunter

[countrymusiclover]

4 - Calling the BAU

Part 5

Detective Stabler’s Daughter

Tag list - send an ask to be added @hiireadstuff @person-005

The next morning - Spencer’s pov

Walking into the FBI building I had been dialing Y/n for a few hours since it was strange that she hadn't called me on my way into work this morning. Sitting down at my desk I sighed pressing the call button on the phone again but I heard the same response for the fifth time. "This is Y/n, I can't answer the phone now. Leave a message and I'll call ya back later."

"Urgh! That's not right. It's can't be right." Tossing my phone on the desk I ran my hands through my hair frustrated.

Footsteps came down the hallway and I lifted my head up seeing it was JJ. "Hey Spence, you okay. Something seems to have you pretty upset." She pointed out standing in front of me.

"Uh.. There's somebody missing that I care about and she's missing." I sighed leaning back in my chair.

She tilted her head. "Is she a friend or girlfriend?"

"She’s one of my students in my classes. I’m not sure if she’s my girlfriend or not exactly..." I croaked out feeling my chest tighten with fear.

An office door opened before she could say anything more. Garcia and Hotchner came out of his office. "We have a new case. Everyone in the briefing room now." JJ and I followed them into the room seeing the rest of the team which included Morgan, Prentas, Hotch, Garcia, JJ and me.

The team had come to visit me when I wanted to show them a tour of the campus. But before they were about to go back home a call came in from Garcia about us needing to see something fairly important.

"Okay, so this will sound odd. But the computer system has been blowing up a few minutes ago with a repeated message and now there's a video that was all sent here. Specifically to Spencer's email address." Garcia explained once we were all in the conference room.

Hotch glanced over to her. "What else do you know about whoever sent the emails?"

"I wish I could say I had more to tell you. Sadly I haven't recovered much. At least until I get to read through the emails and see if anything sticks out to me." She sighed in disappointment.

I gulped feeling a lump in my throat. "Garcia uh...can I read over the emails with you?"

"I know that you can read them really fast but what do you think you'll find that she can't with her computer skills?" Emily asked with her arms crossed over her chest.

JJ sent me a half smile. "He claims that this woman is his one of his students. But not certain she’s a girlfriend yet.."

"Wait a possible girlfriend. Are you serious? How do we not know about her - how do I not know anything about her?" Garcia put a hand over her heart in awe and somewhat of a betrayal that he didn't tell them sooner.

Morgan smirked in my direction. "Pretty boy being a player over there. I wish I'd be saying congratulations under different circumstances."

Clutching my hands into fists at my sides I could feel my whole body shaking while I attempted to get the words out. Thinking back to last night and what would have happened if I had just stayed like she asked. "I have a wealth of knowledge I should be applying to this case. Behavioral patterns of stalkers. Tactical recovery strategies. Victim survival odds. But right now I can't focus on anything more than 4 seconds at a time. Which makes me the dumbest person in the room. So...Please help me. Help me find her."

"We don't know if we have a case. So we'll be working on personal time. Does anybody want to leave?" Hotch asked the others looking around and nobody said anything against it. "Good. Let's get to work."

Everybody else had left the room but I felt Garcia reach down for my hand squeezing it gently. "Don't worry, we'll find her."

"Yeah I know...I just hope she remembers what I taught her to buy her time so we can find her." I sucked in a breath following her down to her office where she opened the door and I pulled in a chair from another desk.

Sitting down beside her she turned on her computer screen grabbing me a set of headphones. "Here, put these on and wait for my cue ... .so care to tell me about this girl before we see some dark things."

"We've gone out on some coffee dates that happened near the campus... .sorry I don't really know what would be important until we look through the evidence." Running a hand through my hair I sighed heavily.

She spun slightly in her chair. "Reid, I know you're worried about this girl. But you just need to remember that this isn't all just riding on you. This girl has to fight against the clock in her own way."

"Yeah...there is one thing that sticks out to me about these photos." I dropped my attention to the printed photos she had given me when we came into her office. One of the photos showed blood on the floor and a gun bullet laying at the edge of it. "He has a handgun. That’s the weapon he used to control her.”

Garcia paused her typing on the keyboard glancing at me. “What’s her name? I might be able to track her phone or her status on social media platforms.”

“Y/n Stabler.” I answered her question. “She has a few siblings and her father is very concerned for her all the time.”

She asked me. “What’s his name?”

“Elliot Stabler. He works for New York Police Department SVU.” I gasped thinking that it was obvious what the best next step should be. Getting up from my chair I rummaged around in her bag taking out her keys and running out of the office. “I’ll bring your car back, Garcia. I have to go speak with him.”

Driving through the city streets I gripped the steering wheel parking outside the building. Rushing inside I made my way through the department until I found a door that read SVU’s written on the glass door at the end of the hallway. Entering through the door I saw multiple different people working at different desks until a woman with short dark brown hair noticed me. “Can I help you with something, sir?”

“I’m um - needing to speak with a guy named Elliot Stabler about something important.” I answered her question frantically scanning my eyes around the room even though I had never seen a picture of her father.

The woman responded. “Okay. He’s my partner so give me a minute to find her. My name is Olivia Benson.”

“Spencer Reid.” I nodded nervously hearing footsteps coming in our direction.

A guy wearing a bright blue dress shirt and black pants who crossed his arms and leaned against the wall. “What are you doing here, Mr. Reid?”

“I need to speak with you. It’s about your daughter, Y/n.” I stepped past Olivia when she took a step backwards watching the two of us talk.

Stabler stepped closer to me. “Did something happen to my daughter?”

“I think someone has abducted her.” I gulped feeling my hands beginning to clamp up at my sides, praying that he could help me find her.

Comments really appreciated ❤️

#detective stabler's daughter #spencer reid x reader #svu fic #law and order svu #svu #law and order fic #law and order special victims unit #mathew gray gubler #wattpad fanfiction #ask box is open for feedback #comments really appreciated #elliot stabler #olivia benson #law and order fanfiction #law and order svu fic #law and order svu fanfiction #college student #professor #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fandom #criminal minds fanfiction #crossover fic #svu fanfiction #kathleen stabler #christopher meloni #svu x cm #spencer reid fandom #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fic

[mrs-snape5984]

“How can I take the pain away? How can I save a fallen angel, in the dark?”

“Fallen angel, just let go. You don't have to be alone. Fallen angel, close your eyes. I won't let you fall tonight.” (“Fallen Angel” by Three Days Grace)

I guess, I have to put another trigger warning on the next three paragraphs of this post. I never mention it explicitly, but my words might imply my suicidal ideation. If you might get triggered by this topic, please feel free to skip the aforementioned parts of my text.

As I already explained in my last few posts, I’ve commissioned some of my beloved artists of Snapedom for a special project of mine. I’ve asked them to draw different stages of my afterlife journey for me. In my imagination, I will finally be able to go home with Severus, when I shuffle off this mortal coil (oh, how very Shakespearean of me 🙄) and leave my unbearable torments and pain behind.

The varying phases of my everlasting life will be shown in multiple artworks of Severus and my undeniably self-inserted OC Jules. I’m clinging to Severus as my comfort character for more than 21 years already. He’s been there for me whenever the burdens of my existence became too overpowering for me. For this reason, it seems only natural to me to expect him waiting for me…and we will finally be allowed to live the life, we deserved to have.

Since I’ve already spoken to both of my closest friends about my wishes for the time after my demise - for which I’m still feeling immensely guilty and remorseful about - I just started to put my requests into writing in an official statement by formulating my “living will” and my “last will”, which I’ve also informed my mother about. And damn, I know, that I have to apologise to my friends for all those dark jokes, which I’m making about this topic (yes, I’m very aware of the fact, that there won’t be a coffin, which could be big enough to bury me with all the items and framed artworks of my personal Snape-Museum 😅), but I need to cope with my sorrows by the usage of my dry wit.

For this component of my personal project, I’ve commissioned my precious friend @opalchalice again. Her mesmerising piece of art shows Jules as a fallen angel in distress, desperately searching for guidance out of her misery. Severus is already awaiting her with open arms, ready to guide her into the pure bliss of her afterlife. This might sound strangely pathetic to some people, but nothing else can soothe my troubled heart as much as these daydreams.

Lia, I know, that you’re very proud of this beautiful drawing and believe me, I’ve never seen anything better from you, yet. I’m immensely impressed by your talent and dedication to the improvement of your skills. It’s always fascinating to me, to go through your former illustrations, recognising the progress, you’re making with every new artwork. Your creativity and your kindness are the reason, why I’ll support you as long as I’ll be capable of going online. Thank you for everything, my lovely friend!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

#Severus x Julia #Sevy x Jules #Severus x OC #fuck me/cfs #surrounded by nothing but darkness and pain #my afterlife art project #point of no return #he will wait for me #commissioning artwork is my goddamn coping mechanism #this is my red carpet for all the artists of snape fandom #i‘m so fucking lonely #tw sui implied #severus snape #he’s by my side for 21 years now #21 years and still counting #i love snape #snape #i love severus #pro snape #snape love #snape content #severus snape art #snart #snape art #severus fanart #snapedom #severus snape fandom #mecfs #chronic illness #i can’t do this anymore

[fullsunstrawberry]

hi im confused, what happened?

with atwr? hopefully the newest part can help you understand <3

#if you need anything explained please let me know!! #i’ll try to be clear 👍 #love yah <3 #lovely anon #ask and replies