#now that its over though kinda feel a bit empty. need something else to go insane over

[surreal-duck]

incomprehensible doodles from around the first ep’s airing

#honeyworks #confession executive committee #heroine tarumono #heroines run the show #duck scribbles #doodles #probably too late now to post but. i miss them #more nagisa when #herotaru was nice overall!! probably one of the better animated adaptations imo though i still have my own gripes about it #it felt a bit rushed around halfway in after like 5 eps on the nonfan arc #mona not being included in the countdown too 😔 fuuma and ASCANA cameos nonexistent either #the special eds were such a fav though chizuhiyojuri heroine ikusei keikaku and kotaro ken romeo my beloveds #now that its over though kinda feel a bit empty. need something else to go insane over #unfortunately getting curious about a certain ensemble of stars so if i ever give in im sorry

[toomuchracket]

promises to keep (flatmate!matty x reader fluff)

matty made a promise to do something for you before you dated, and this is what happens when an opportunity to fulfil it arises once you're together - kinda sorta a sequel to this, but can be read standalone. day 4 of valentine's week. enjoy <3

“matthew? have you got a minute?”

shit. the full name. 

gritting his teeth in a grimace, matty puts down his guitar and follows your voice. “coming now, sweetheart.”

“much appreciated,” comes your tetchy reply. matty winces, wracking his brain in an attempt to figure out why you're not best pleased with him right now, but he comes up short.

he gets it as soon as he enters the kitchen, though; the french press in your hand - and the grumpiness on your pretty, sleepy face - reminds him of everything he needs to know. it also almost manages to stop matty from missing the fact you’re wearing his glassjaw hoodie, a pair of fluffy socks, and very little else. almost. “ah, fuck.”

“indeed,” you say, putting the cafetiere on the counter and frowning (quite adorably, to be honest) at your boyfriend. “actually, that was my exact phrasing when i came in here for a coffee, only to find that the grounds from the last cup hadn't been emptied.”

“m'sorry, baby,” matty moves to hug you.

you, however, have other ideas, and put your arm out to keep him back. “nope! no chance! absolutely not! you can't boyfriend your way out of this one, healy, this is a flatmate issue.”

matty sighs, but he can't exactly argue - the rules on emptying the coffee grounds have been finite since you moved in, the only way to ensure two caffeine-dependent people could cohabit in relative peace. “you're right. i really am sorry, darlin - let me clean it out now, and i'll make you a coffee, yeah?”

“thank you,” your face softens, into the cheeky smirk that never fails to make matty's heart feel funny. “would you make me a bit of toast, too, while you're at it?”

“it'll cost you a kiss, that one.”

“s'pose i could fork out for that,” you wrap your arms around matty's neck, hands sliding home into his hair to pull him down for a kiss. he dips you as you make out, like the two of you are lovers in an old hollywood romance film, and you giggle against his lips as he gently pulls you back to stand. “that was fun!”

“i was kinda scared i'd drop you, i won't lie.”

you laugh, ruffling matty's hair before taking a seat at the breakfast bar. “i would've dragged you with me if you had.”

“i'd expect nothing less,” he smiles, rinsing the coffee grounds from the press and holding it up to the light to check its cleanliness, before popping two slices of bread in the toaster. “what d'you want on your toast, by the way, babe?”

“hmm,” you tilt your head. “do we still have nutella?”

matty squints as he wracks his brain, then rummages around in one of the cupboards. “aha!” he emerges triumphant, almost-empty jar in hand. “enough for toast. but i'll need to get more before the weekend.”

“why? you don't even like it that much.”

“well, what else am i going to put on your valentine’s breakfast pancakes?”

you beam. “am i getting breakfast in bed?”

“course you are,” matty runs over to kiss your nose. “you're getting spoiled, sweetheart.”

“so are you. i was gonna keep it a surprise, but…” you pause dramatically. “i bought new lingerie.”

he drops the butter knife in shock. it hits the countertop with a clatter, and his head almost follows suit. “fuck,” he croaks out. “what colour?”

“dark red. your favourite,” you smile. “i look really sexy in it.”

“i bet you do, baby,” matty sighs happily, pouring coffee into your favourite mug. “can't wait to get into that hotel room and take it off you.”

“me either. and thank you for organising all that, my love. m’excited,” you smile, leaning up to kiss matty as he brings your breakfast over. “thank you for this, too. love you.”

“love you,” he kisses you again. “bring it to the living room? wanna cuddle.”

you nod, picking up your mug and plate and following matty through. he settles on the sofa first, arranging the blankets draped over it and taking your plate from you as you snuggle into his arms. with a kiss to your head, he flicks the tv on, and the two of you sit in contented silence for a little while - with the exception of you crunching your toast - watching animal park. 

matty nudges you when the camera zooms in on a pair of lions curled up together on a rock. “us.”

“really?” you snort, putting your plate on the coffee table. “you think we're lions?”

“yeah. you're the brains behind everything, and i just chill out and have really cool hair.”

you laugh, bringing his hand to your lips and kissing it. “you're an idiot, healy.”

“but i'm your idiot. and i'm right,” matty looks down at you, grinning. “and you've got a little bit of nutella on your lip. here, let me,” he leans down and kisses it away. “there.”

“thanks, lover,” you stretch, snuggling back into your boyfriend with a sigh. “the lions are boring me a bit now, though. what else is on?”

“hmm, let's see,” matty clicks through channels, watching each for a couple of seconds before continuing to search - only when a familiar shot of a girl curled up in a chair reading the bell jar appears does he stop. “oh! babe, look! 10 things!”

“aww, i love this film,” you curl up even further into him, playing with the neck of his t-shirt. “remember when we watched this together in my room?”

matty's voice is quiet when he answers, but you can hear him smile. “thought about it every day since we did, darlin.”

he grins bashfully when you turn to look at him, open-mouthed. you smile, too, so sweetly that it hurts his heart. “same. it was all i ever wanted, to be so intimate like that with you,” you reach up to stroke his face. “best feeling in the world, knowing i get to do it for real now.”

all matty can do is softly hold your face and kiss you, until he runs out of breath and has to pull away from your chocolate-flavoured lips; even then, though, he keeps his hands on your jaw, and murmurs against your lips. “my dream girl. m'so in love with you.”

“i love you so much,” you whisper. “d'you wanna keep watching this, then?”

“course. rite of passage, innit?” your boyfriend grins, tugging you onto his lap and wrapping his arms around you. you turn to kiss him softly once more, then rest your head against his chest and look at the screen. 

the time passes a lot like it did the last time you and matty did this, but instead of mutual pining and an undercurrent of sadness knowing you weren't really together, it's just completely… lovely. you press kisses to each other's heads and hands and lips, and just bask uninterrupted in the love evident between the two of you in the room. aside from the kisses, you don't even move.

that is, until the scene matty knows is your favourite begins. he grins, shifting you slightly further up on his lap so he can look at you properly, and begins to sing into your ear along with heath ledger onscreen. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you…”

your cheeks lift into a smile, and matty can practically feel the heat radiating off them. but still, you keep your eyes on the tv, the only proper acknowledgement of matty's singing being the way you softly squeeze his thigh.

“... you'd be like heaven to touch, i wanna hold you so much,” he continues, resting his head against yours and smiling when you giggle, then taking your hand. “at long last love has arrived, and i thank god i'm alive,” he moves his hand up to gently turn your head, singing the last bit to your adorably flustered smiling face. “you're just too good to be true, can't take my eyes off of you.”

you laugh joyously when he stops singing - the best sound matty thinks he's ever heard - and pull him into a kiss. “you're serenading me?!”

“you asked me to, first time we watched this,” matty smiles warmly, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “and i promised you i would.”

“i did?” your brow furrows so cutely. “you did?”

“just as you fell asleep. therefore,” he grins, taking a deep breath before literally belting. “i love you, baby, and if it's quite alright i need you, baby, to warm the lonely nights. i love you, baby - trust in me when i say…”

you beam, wrapping your arms around his neck and swaying as you join in the song. “oh, pretty baby, don’t bring me down, i pray,” the two of you giggle as you sing, and matty's never been so in love in his life. “oh, pretty baby, now that i've found you, stay, and let me love you, baby, let me love you.”

as your voices fade out, matty leans forward and kisses you chastely; he beams and caresses your cheek when he pulls back. “thank you for letting me keep my promise. and for singing with me - that was lovely. should get you on the next album.”

“no, i think i'm content with just singing to you at home,” you smile, playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. “thank you for doing that for me. always found it really romantic, that scene and that song. but you know how i am about pda, so what you just did was really perfect,” you kiss him again. “i honestly can't remember you making that promise, though.”

“i think you had already fallen asleep on me, darlin,” matty giggles. “but i wanted to keep it, anyway. and speaking of promises to keep,” his face goes a bit more serious, but still tender, as he picks up your left hand and kisses your ring finger - your breath catches in your throat, eyes widening and welling up. “gonna marry you someday. i mean it.”

you nod, a teary smile on your beautiful face, and pull him into a hug. “i can't wait.”

#mads muses #mads does writing #flatmate!matty #valentine75 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fanfic #matty healy fic #matty healy fluff #matty healy x reader #matty x reader

[undobutton]

Hello!!! anon here, can I request some gn!freelancer x lasko fluff? I'd like to see a confession kind of thing, but anything is fine, I'd love to see what you write !

— 🩹 anon

warnings: Mentions of anxiety, barely proofread, ooc Lasko and Freelacer

genre: Fluffy!

characters: Lasko, and Freelancer!

synopsis: Lasko finally decides to do something about his feelings for you by asking you out to lunch!

a/n: Okay, I have something to confess... I haven't listened to freelencer. Or like any of the D.A.M.N crew's audios.. I plan to! I really wanna but I don't have the time rn. So I apologize deeply if anyone is ooc and I will probably rewrite this after I listen to the playlists. Also hii 🩹anon! I hope this lives up to your expectations and I'm so sorry this took so long!

Lasko isn't oblivious. He know that his feelings for you are returned its just.. What if you say no anyhow? Like sure there's no real reason that you wouldn't agree to at least having lunch with him, y'know since that's nothing new. But anxiety never needed any logic to take hold.

Currently hes pacing around his room like a mad man, mumbling every now and then. His phone is tossed on his bed upside down with your response. He texted you about lunch, nothing more. Nothing less. (What even is less than lunch?) Now hes to scared to get it and look at your reply. He could ask someone to look at it for him, but he'd need to use his phone to call someone.

Frustrated, Lasko sits on his bed and runs a (kinda sweaty) hand through his hair before floping back onto the mattress.

"It's not that big of a deal." He says shakily, trying to reassure himself. A few moments pass and he sits up and grabs his phone in one go.

"Alright. three... two... o-one.. Go." He reads your text

"Lunch sounds fine! What time??"

He lets out a sigh and laughs at himself.

~~~~

Two days later you're sat outside at a nearby cafe scrolling through memes on some social media site. Waiting for Lasko, hes only three minutes late. Normally, you're the one being waited on, but there's a first time for everything.

Lasko comes running, catching your attention with his panicked flurry of emotions. He catches your eye and smiles nervously. After awkwardly rushing past a few other tables and nearly knocking over someones drink, he takes his seat across from you. Wasting no time before bursting into a million apologies.

"I'm so- I'm so sorry I was- Well there was a squirrel and- and sorry I'm late. You should have seen the size of it though. The squirrel I mean. It was just- were you, were you waiting long? Sorry I-"

"Lasko it's fine! It's fine. Did you get a picture of the squirrel?" You ask, putting your phone down with a smile.

He nods and pulls out his phone, calming down a bit.

~~~

Lunch goes by fine. You're both full and heading towards the parking lot. The whole way there Lasko's been even more nervous than usual. Fidgeting and rambling and stuttering up a storm. You're just about to ask if he's alright when he just stops walking all together.

Running a hand through his hair, Lasko looks over at you. He'd been avoiding eye contact this whole time but his eyes find your face now. The suns starting to dip down casting a warm glow on both of you and the sidewalk is surprisingly empty for a Thursday afternoon. He sighs shakily and smiles at you.

"Okay so I didn't just wanna have lunch today- wait no that sounds. I well- No lunch was great I don't need anything else I- I'm full and even if- like you don't owe me anything! Okay okay let me start over uhm I- Lunch?" He ..asks?

A giggle escapes you and he shakes his head.

"No its fine Lasko, start again if you want. I'm all ears!" You grin encouragingly

He takes a breath "I really liked lunch... It was fun and- and You look good. No wait like- you look very good." He blushes but keeps going. "And you look very good... often, m-most times and I uhmm appreciate it? Well you're not doing it for me I know its just- I -I. Gosh. I like you." He says quickly.

You blink a few times.

"Like a lot- I like you a lot romantically.. I said it! I- I did it!" He looks at you and smiles nervously. You crush him in a hug.

"I like you too Lasko, a lot. Romantically" You tease kissing his cheek.

He huffs playfully and pulls away from the hug.

"So.. what do we do now?"

reblogs appreciated!! <3

#redacted asmr #redactedverse #redacted lasko #redacted freelancer #redacted audio

[peccatula]

politely requesting any and all of your thoughts about heathcliff ^w^

THANK YOU FOR SENDING THIS IN IM DOING THIS ONE NOW theres like 20 before it but idc

THIS IS KINDA LONG SO ITS UNDER A CUT. i have a lot of thoughts because holyyyy shit this guy is me. they put me in limbus company

warning for discussion of self harm and self destructive tendencies but its not too in depth

heathcliff is transmasc genderfluid bisexual because i am and im projecting. he's gotten top surgery but it wasnt by the best doctor so it looks a bit odd but hes got enough scars all over that it doesnt rly matter. and hes on testosterone, how he managed to secure it living on the backstreets i dont CARE im not here to figure that out

genderfluid not in the male female nonbinary way but in the I dont fucking know sometimes im a guy sometimes im something else but usually a guy kinda way

he has borderline personality disorder, not even just me projecting here though thats a part of it

he's impulsive as hell, does self destructive things because ^^^^^^^ bpd. this is exacerbated by the fact that he can just Come Back To Life so he doesnt need to be careful anymore. he doesnt like pain but he also doesnt like himself and feels like he deserves pain + he just doesnt care to be careful and not self destruct because Oh i can come back so its fine

sneaking suspicion some of his scars are not entirely inflicted by other people. even if he doesnt like. Do it himself he throws himself into dangerous situations as a way to self harm

he's got all that bpd shit goin on including dissociation/emptiness, mood swings, he struggles with his sense of self and identity and worth and hes fucking terrified of abandonment to the point he will sabotage his own relationships because it hurts less to do that than to be left behind or hurt

he's also autistic! i havent done as much thinking on this its mostly just projection here honestly

i dont wanna go too heavily into speculation for his chapter because i hate the idea of being wrong about it but i think he and cathy had a really turbulent relationship that was not great on both sides. i havent read the source material but i think its like that in the book as well. i dont think its gonna be a relationship that you would want to root for

he gets angry a lot because like, he takes things very personally and has very bad self esteem so anything you say to him he will not take well and instead of getting sad about it his brain defaults to anger because Can't show weakness in front of others. he's competitive as a result because he wants to prove to others and himself that he's not a trash heap of a human being and actually has some worth

not a headcanon but hes not fucking stupid can the fandom stop calling him stupid f or one second and read the goddamn dialogue. he's highly observant and street smart and when he's not being impulsive he has good ideas and thinks things through

#heathcliff lcb #lcb #proton.txt

[ktyun1]

ice skating — k. sunwoo

pairing - kim sunwoo x f!reader

genre - non-idol!au, childhood friends 2 lovers, fluff, flirting, teasing between friends, ice skating

summary - y/n gets an invite from her best friend and crush — sunwoo — to the ice rink. will this hangout with him be the same as they usually are? or will things suddenly change between the two?

inspired by - a sunwoo pic at ice rink LOL

notes - idek what im doing guys this is ma first published fanfic and its kinda cringe ☠️☠️ i had written this 4 my bff before LOL enjoy ig…!.!!!!!

word count - 1.2k

NOT PROOFREAD

—

3RD PERSON POV

"sunwoo hurry up! you're taking too long!" y/n groaned, having to wait for her best friend, sunwoo, to finish getting ready. she was already outside the door, jacket in one hand and purse in the other.

"give me a minute!" he yelled back from upstairs. y/n playfully rolled her eyes at his need to always look presentable when going out with her.

a part of her hoped he's always dressing up for her, but who was she kidding? he somehow—intentional or not—always managed to friendzone her, making it obvious it was just a silly one sided attraction.

sunwoos brown tuft of hair peeked from around the corner of the doorway, with him taking his time to walk over to her, grinning. y/n frowned at his attempt to tease her.

"okay pretty boy, let's go while it's still early."

—

after what seemed like hours of driving, the pair arrived at a well known skating rink in their district, deobi ice rink.

since it was quite early in the morning, the rink wasn't as full as it would have been if they had gone in the afternoon.

“angel, i'll get the skates, you're a size 7 right?" the boy asks. y/n nodded in confirmation, before he walked away.

her cheeks burned at the nickname he called her by. despite having known each other for so long, and that nickname being as old as their friendship, her newly found crush on him gave that nickname a different feel.

she walked over to an empty bench and waited for sunwoo to come back with the skates.

y/n couldn't help but stare at the boy talking to the shop owner. his tall complexion made him more appealing to look at.

when they were young, the girl was always taller than him, constantly teasing at him for being shorter, that was until freshman year. it felt like it took only one morning for him to suddenly shoot up to be 5'9.

her thoughts were suddenly cut off when a girl her age suddenly came up to sunwoo, looking nervous. y/n could only assume the girl had interest in him based on her body language. it was now pretty easy to tell considering that it's a common occurrence.

a part of her felt jealousy at the thought that some girl could just go up to sunwoo, her crush, and talk to him while she watched. though knowing that he doesn't show any bit of interest did reassure her feelings quite a bit.

eventually, the girl had walked away looking dejected and sunwoo started making his way back to y/n. although not visible to anyone else, she celebrates yet another girl getting rejected by him in her mind.

"another girl?" y/n questioned, her eyebrows raised.

"what? are you jealous?" he smirked, wanting a reaction out of her.

"in your dreams kim."

"it’s okay, you're better than any of them anyway," he casually says, giving y/n her skates.

her heartbeat quickened at his words. not wanting to create false hope for herself, she tried to push the thought aside, despite it causing her stomach to twist and turn.

"hurry up angel!" sunwoo grins, already making his way over to the ice.

"coming!” y/n sighs.

—

the feel of the ice was something y/n had forgotten. with one foot in front of the other, she starts to slowly glide across the ice, looking at sunwoo smiling at her. she grined back, paying attention to him.

not seeing the person in front of her, she bumped into them and started falling forward.

sunwoos smile dropped as he rushed over to her, trying to catch her in time. fortunately, someone did catch her.  and it wasn't sunwoo.

"are you okay??" an unknown voice spoke. y/n looked up to see an unfamiliar face staring at her with worry.

"yes, im okay. thank you for catching me," she smiles apologetically.

just then, she heard her best friends voice calling out to her, “Y/N!"

y/n looked at him, wondering why he seems so worried. "are you okay?!" sunwoo asked, a concerning tone laced in his voice.

"yeah im alright don't worry," she started, before looking over to the other boy, "um.. whats your name?"

"juyeon," he spoke.

"juyeon caught me, im alright," y/n says, focusing her attention back to sunwoo, standing back up on her own.

looking over to juyeon, she thanks him before walking back to the railing, sunwoo following her and making sure she wouldn't fall again.

"you could've gotten hurt, be careful next time okay?!" sunwoo says, still concerned for her safety. it almost made her think it wasn't some one sided crush.

"it wasn't a big major thing sun, if anything, i'd probably only get a scratch or a bruise, its no big deal," she reassures, "plus why are you so worried anyway?"

"because i like you y/n."

her heart stopped for a second at his very sudden and unexpected confession.

"this wasn't how i wanted to tell you," he mumbled before cringing, "i've liked you since fifth grade dummy, i was just too scared to tell you since i didnt want our friendship to change because of my feelings. i understand if you dont feel the same way, and its completely fine— like, its not a big deal and i get i—"

she cuts him off with a soft peck on the lips, shutting him up. he looks at her with a shocked expression, mouth open.

"i like you too sunwoo," y/n says, looking at him.

it took him a bit to process the information. his brain felt like short circuiting.  after a while though, he smiles at her confession and hugs her, not really sure what happens next.

they stay in that position for a bit before letting go of each other.

"can i be your boyfriend y/n?" sunwoo asks, looking into her eyes.

"only if you can catch me," y/n cheekily smiled, skating away as fast as she can.

sunwoo trails after her, thinking about how lucky he was to have her. someone who knows him the best and has seen through both his good and bad days.

THE END

—

BONUS

"e-excuse me!" a girl spoke up behind sunwoo, tapping his shoulder.

he turns around to see a short girl around his age with blonde hair, "may i help you?"

"um i was wondering, are you by any chance .. single?" she nervously asked, fidgeting with her hands, "i think you're really cute and was wondering if i could get your number ..?"

he admitted how it was impressive she was able to come up to him and be straightforward about her intentions, not that it was anything new.

with an apologetic look, he looked at her wincing, "im really sorry but i currently do have a girlfriend, she's sitting there on that bench."

the said girlfriend was y/n, who wasn't his girlfriend, though he wished she was.

the girl in front of him looked embarrassed, her ears turning visibly red, "oh im really sorry! i wasnt aware! i hope you treat her well!"

she then scurries off with a dejected look after bowing apologetically to him.

sunwoo subtly smirks, proud that the excuse that y/n was his girlfriend worked. i mean obviously, she was the prettiest girl on the rink. in his eyes, nobody else could compare.

'now i really need to make her my girlfriend' he thought as he made his way back to her.

#the boyz #the boyz fanfic #kim sunwoo #sunwoo #tbz fluff #tbz fanfic #tbz x reader #tbz sunwoo #kpop fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #kpop #ktyun1 #sunwoo fanfic #deobi

[sleepyrxsetea]

im finally posting some writing!!!!

the two characters in this are from the story im writing with my friend and these two characters are in a qpr in the story! i one day was feeling angsty however so…i wrote a thing where they both have ‘amnesia’ of sorts where the don’t remember each other but feel strong deja vu when meeting again :)

later i think im gonna post a part i wrote of the story with them (and it’s a part I spent way too long on for a rough draft)

but, for now, please enjoy! (its also a bit rough please bear in mind and also really cringe. im really bad at writing this kinda thing)

Adrastus stared at their bed. Why did it look so empty? Why did it feel like something was missing like a pillow or a blanket or maybe even someone to help fill the space?

A tear slid down their cheek as they continued to stare. This has never happened before. Not even after he died. It never looked empty or felt empty. He slowly let himself down on the bed and sprawled out on it to try and fill the space but it still felt not right.

Someone was supposed to be with him, but who?

He continued to lay there and look at the ceiling. The more he stared the more he felt empty too, like a piece was gone. Not that he knew what piece that was. 

After so long that his room became dark, he launched himself forward and for a split second they thought they saw someone. Dark blue hair tied into a braid.

Blood red eyes that softened the moment Adrastus saw them. 

A small smile that crinkled the corners of their eyes. 

A smile they knew.

Who was it though?

He didn’t know.

He slowly forgot about the person he saw. His bed still felt empty and after more and more time passed he felt like he was swimming through a void, but what was he to do?

He went for coffee before his shift weeks later, a small place with cheap coffee only a block away. He never went there, always something drawing him to go anywhere else, but in a time crunch, there he found himself in the small shop. Booths full of sleep deprived college students and friends just having a chat. No line though, thank god.

He placed his order, no matter where he went, always the same drink, an iced coffee with almond milk and hazelnut syrup, and waited. It wasn’t a long wait but he still sat down to satisfy his aching knees.

“Adrastus? Did I say that right? Sure hope I did.” A soft voice came from the pick up counter. A soft voice that felt comforting and like they’ve heard it a million times before.

Adrastus didn’t know what was going on with him. First his bed feeling empty and now this voice. He slowly made his way over to the counter.

“Adrastus?!” The voice said again and Adrastus awkwardly raised his hand.

“Right here. Sorry for the wai-” he froze.

Their eyes were locked, yellow meeting red, blood red.

Dark blue hair tied back into a messy braid.

He couldn’t see their face because of a mask but their eyes crinkled in the corners.

The memory came back.

The person they saw in their bedroom, it was them.

“I’m sorry.” They shook their head and looked away. “I feel like I’ve known you for a long time.”

“Likewise.” Adrastus let out a long breath and finally found the strength to move all the way up to the counter to take his iced coffee from them.

“Sorry, but what’s your name?” Adrastus took the coffee. 

“Ace.”

“Ace.” He repeated, the name felt familiar on his tongue.

Silence passed.

“I’m so sorry, I feel like I’m being awkward. You're the customer, I should be helping you not-“

“No no. I’m the one who's making it awkward. You don’t need to-“

“But I’m the one who-“

“Sure but I…this is dumb.” Adrastus shook his head before blurting out, “Ace, could I get your number?”

“Umm, yeah. Yeah sure. Let me write it down on a napkin for you.” Ace searched for a marker and scribbled numbers onto a napkin, passing it to them.

“Thanks. I really appreciate this. See you around, Ace.”

“Yeah, you too Adrastus.”

Don’t leave me, please, love don’t leave.

thank you so much for reading!!! i really appreciate it!! hope you have an amazing day/evening/night!!!

#queer writers #writeblr #writing #writers on tumblr

[gikairan]

I've been playing Starfield properly for a week now, and some thoughts:

I think the most important thing to say is: I am having fun. I am enjoying playing this game.

But i do worry about the games... legs so to speak. I played Fallout 4 for like... a whole year. By the time i felt like i was running out of base game, the first expansions were dropping.

Starfield is... a different beast. It doesnt have one big, large, handcrafted map. Its got a lot of procedurally generated maps, with random bits and pieces. And so there isn't much exploring. And its the exploring i kinda like with Bethesda? The only other games i've played that have made an open world feel so alive are.... BOTW/ TOTK. Like, open world is a dime a dozen these days, but most of them are empty Ubisoft-likes (what i call "checklist open worlds").

But Starfield, by virtue of being a space exploration game, cant quite have that handcrafted touch I know and love from Bethesda. Like, theres only a handful of ways to do a space exploration game and thats: - you limit the exploration to a handful of locations, each with a handcrafted map. But you lose the feeling of the vastness of a galaxy (This is what ME: Andromeda and The Outer Worlds did) - You lose the open world maps, and go with more focused areas. You get a chance to show more planets, but you lose the exploration feeling. (.... This is what the first ME Trilogy did, and theyre not exactly exploration games) - You procedurally generate as much content as possible, and only add handcrafted touches when theres a specific quest. You get the vastness of the galaxy, but it loses many places of actual interest. This is what Starfield has done.

And so... one atmosphere-less planet is kinda the same as another? The colours may change, but largely youre only there because you have a quest there, or you need a specific resource that that planet has in abundance. The places of interest just arent that interesting. And most of them are atmosphere-less planets (Because... thats most planets we've discovered after all)

The game also does take a whiillle to start to open up. I've got over 24 hours of playtime clocked up (though i imagine a good 3-4 hours are just idling on menus as i do things like... cook) and i've largely just travelled between Alpha Centuri and Sol.... I've just made the trip to Akila, i've spent all of 5 minutes in Hope Town, and I have no idea where Neon even is. Theres nothing really between those places, its just fast travelling everywhere. And i'm usually a fast travel abuser, but sometimes the best moments in a Bethesda game are when you slow down and take the scenic route, yaknow? Locations needing fast travelling between them kinda ruins that a bit. And theres generally not 2 settlements on the same planet, despite that probably making a lot of sense (if Jamison is good for human habitation, why is New Atlantis the only settlement we can visit?), so theres not exactly any real random encounters on the ground maps.

My hope that the roleplaying in this game was better than FO4 because they ditched the voice protagonist was in vain. Theres kinda 2 options to continue most conversations, and anything below the first 2 (maybe 3) options are Questions to learn more - but not to move the conversation to the next part of the tree. I havent seen a huge number of skill related dialogue options, except like... medicine? Thats the one ive seen pop up the most.

Performance wise, i've largely not had any issues. Couple of crashes, but thats par for the course with Bethesda. .... But i noticed some obvious frame rate dips in Akila. Like, something in that location the xbox just did not like. But nowhere else. I also paid for a month of game pass ultimate so i could swap between my pc and xbox and see what i liked. ... I havent even tried to play on pc, because i'm happy enough on xbox. That, and the pc keybindings are... uuhh a problem. The game has so many different controls going on that i cant move WASD to any other controls without breaking some other system. Arrow keys are vital somewhere else. IJKL is vital somewhere else.... I'm not playing with WASD, because thats uncomfortable (i'm using the wrong hand for it!). And theres no point in playing on a controller on my pc, lol. I may as well play on the comfy sofa if i want to play with a controller. Will probably mess with my ability to play many mods, but honestly... i'm still uncertain about how much i'll care about the game by the time people start making some real good mods.

IDK man. I'm having fun, i'm enjoying the game. But it probably is a 7/10 game, yaknow? Theres a lot of things holding it back, but those things are also fairly central to the actual vision Bethesda had. Jurys still out on how much blorbo thoughts i can get out of this, mostly because I still dont quite know enough about the world to get a backstory going on. And thats going to be the thing that really makes everything else click. But even then, I could get an okay enough backstory out of The Outer Worlds and that never clicked, because the game just didnt have enough content for me to Really Care.

[timeandspacenovelist]

Title : Bus Ride

Rating: T Chapters: 1

Summary: Johanna Constantine, annoyed and wet, heads onto a bus to get to her next job, when she encounters a strange blonde haired woman…

Read this story on another platform: Archive of Our Own

London. What a dump. A rain filled dump at that. If Johanna had her way, most of her work would carry her to the Caribbean or Hawaii; at least some place where she could actually wear that bikini she got ages ago. A gift from Rach….

…. It still stung. Out of the many mistakes she made in her life, leaving her ranked pretty high. But she had to move on. She at least hoped her last dream was a good one.

Her London based misery continued as she stepped into a puddle, her boots absorbing the water.

“Shit.”

She really liked those boots, too. If she had gotten that car as a reward for that job she did last year, maybe she wouldn’t be in the current predicament that she was in. Walking through the rain, heading for a bus at night and messing up her outfit. But that was her life recently. Rough jobs, not a lot of good pay coming from them, and a lot less happiness than she’d desire.

A bus finally made its way towards her bus stop, and she quickly got inside, getting away from the rain. Thankfully, it was at least empty, a rarity these days, but tonight it made sense. But she appreciated it. Peace was exactly what she wanted at the moment, so she went directly to the back. She expected, or rather hoped, for a long continuous drive, not expecting any stops. This late, on a rainy night, any person would be daft to be outside here waiting for a bus like she was.

When she closed her eyes to collect her thoughts, she felt the bus jerk forward, nearly knocking her off her seat. So more for that long continuous drive. Once she sat back up and collected herself, she saw the reason for the sudden stop. _____________________________________________________________

She was an oddly dressed sort, the blonde. Rainbow striped shirt, long flowing gray coat, blue trousers that did not reach her ankle, and brown military boots. Not what she’d call the height of fashion, but she wasn’t one to throw stones with what she wore sometimes. She was an excitable sort, gleefully greeting and talking to the bus driver. Happiness seemed to run through her veins. She didn’t know whether to be disgusted or to envy her. Still, with them now hopefully being just the only two on the bus, she would have no problems with her if she found a seat anywhere but next to her. That’s all she needed from her, and she looked like someone who’d understood that. So her eyes closed once again, concentrating, meditating; a time to just calm down and feel at pea….

“Is this seat taken?”

She reopened her eyes, the blonde standing over her, looking quite concerned for what she did not know. She took a bit of time to examine her face. She looked not much older than her. A few years, she’d reckon. Though strangely, her eyes looked much, much older than her. She used to think she was the same, her line of work aging her with what she saw, but there was no doubt in her mind that this woman definitely had older eyes... and kinda pretty ones.

What? She wasn’t blind.

What she was, though, was currently not talking, which in this situation was something that she needed to stop doing.

“Uh...”

Part of her... ok, most of her wanted to say no, and in much ruder terms, fuck off. But for whatever reason, she couldn’t tell her no. No matter how much she wanted to.

“No, it’s not. Go ahead.”

“Thanks!”

So the Doctor happily took her seat next to Johanna. It was a marked improvement in how most people reacted to being close to her. As the bus set off once again, she gave up on her attempts to relax and so just looked out the window. Granted, it wasn’t an amazing sight, but it would do. It was just that someone else was watching the same sights as she was.

“Isn’t London beautiful?”

“Not what I’d call it, but you’re welcome to.”

She’d seen enough of the seedy nature of this place to know all that glitters wasn’t gold.

“Really? I’ll have to disagree. Honestly, I didn’t think it was all that either, but then I realized how much history it contained. How many lives have been changed, for good and for bad, and how it’s always found a way to survive. It’s so...”

“Boring.”

“Not a fan of history, are you?” she said, frowning.

“Not really, but then again, my line of work usually has me focused on the present, not the past.”

“And what exactly is your line of work?” she asked, her eyebrows raised.

“That’s a conversation which will not be had here or now.” Johanna said, smirking.

The woman sighed, obviously wanting a straight answer, but people tended to not react super well when she told them what she did for a living, so it was best to keep it hidden.

“Then can you at least tell me your name?”

“That I can do. Constantine, Johanna Constantine.”

“Nice to meet you, Johanna Constantine. I’m the Doctor.”

“Of what?”

“Let’s say.... solving problems”

“Now there’s one thing we have in common.”

Johanna laughed, which got the Doctor’s attention.

“Hey, I got you to laugh.” She said with a smile.

“You did. Score one for you.”

“Are we really keeping score? Because I’m sure I’ll hit 100.” The Doctor said, matching the goofy grin.

Johanna laughed again. She was funny. Weird, but funny. But she wasn’t against weird. Not in the slightest. It’s what she saw in her daily life. It was a while since she truly felt comfortable around someone, someone that actually made her laugh. This woman intrigued her, which, unless you were involved in her line of work, it meant you did something good. ______________________________________________________________

As the drive continued, out of the corner of her eye, she could see the Doctor continually checking the time on a pocket watch she had. Ignoring the oddness of someone having a pocket watch, she was interested in why she was so keen on the time.

“Got somewhere to be, blondie?”

“Hmm? No, nowhere in particular...” she said, on high alert at the interruption.

“Then maybe you can tear your eyes away from that watch for a second and tell me the truth.”

“I told you, I..”

“I know what you told me, but I also know you’re lying.”

The Doctor then turned to watch her, her eyes more concerned than she let on. She sighed, realizing that Johanna had caught her.

“I’m just.... without my normal transportation at the moment and I’m meeting someone and I’d like to be back there as soon as possible.”

“Who’s the lucky guy?...” Johanna said, with a growing smirk.

“Girl. Not that we’re together or anything like that.”

She quickly seemed to push away the notion of being with whoever it was, an obvious clue as to there being something there. Still, she had to shoot her shot.

“So you’re on the market then.. Haven’t dated a blonde in a while..” she said, turning up the charm, but the Doctor seemed immune.

“And you won’t now! Sorry, you’re beautiful, but I just....”

“Had your heart taken by someone else.”

“Well...I...”

“... What’s her name?...”

Once the question was asked, she calmed down and took a breath.

“...Yaz.”

“Nice name. Is she cute?”

“Yes, but that’s not why I like her.. She’s caring, smart, funny, brave. She’s just so... human.”

“Human? So does that make you?...”

“Alien. Yes. Got a problem with that?”

“No, not at all. Seen a lot of strange things myself. Aliens aren’t one of them, but I can get used to it.”

She flashed a friendly smile, showing the Doctor she was fine with the reveal.

“I am human, though, just saying. At least I hope I am.”

With some of the rituals she does, she wonders if she’s shifting into something more different from human. Sometimes she wondered if she was losing her soul, her very essence. That’s how it felt most days, anyway.

“Well... since I revealed what I am, why don’t you at least reveal what you do for a living?”

“You got me there. Might as well come out and say it... I’m an accomplished warlock, expert of the occult, and a master of exorcism. I also don’t work for free.“

The Doctor’s eyes widened as each description was spoken, leaving them wide open by the end.

“You’re... serious?”

“As a heart attack. It’s a dirty old job, but someone’s got to do it. Run through my family for generations. Problem?”

“Not at all. I just thought that I was the only one to have encountered threats of that kind.”

Johanna’s ears perked up at that, yet there was some suspicion.

“Funny. I don’t remember seeing you around, and I’d definitely remember a beauty like you.”

“Well, there was one in the 43rd century that I...”

“Wait? The fuck do you mean by 43rd century?”

There needed to be an explanation there, especially by how calm the Doctor looked when she said it.

“Oh yeah, I have a ship that can time travel.”

There was a brief bit of silence between them, the Doctor seeming to expect some kind of confused outburst. But all she got from Johanna was a defeated sigh.

She… expected that eventually something like that would exist. But it’s not been mentioned as far as she knew. Maybe on whatever planet she was from, but that was something she did not want to get into right now. Yet, the mention of it saddened her, mostly because that was something she really could have used herself to fix some of the shit she’s caused over the years, particularly..

“Could have used that. Maybe then Rach would still be alive.. But that’s what I deserve for doing this shitheap of a job...”

Her head dropped and fell into her hands. Tears welled up in her eyes as the reality of what happened with Morpheus and Rachel. sunk in. She failed her. She abandoned her, left her with something to become addicted to and was the reason she died. It was par for the course, really, and that was the part she despised the most. There were some days that she enjoyed what she did for a living, but most of the time, she fucking hated it with a passion. So many people lost, and she’d always be there alone, having to pick up the pieces.

But then she felt an arm rubbing her back. Firm, but soft. She didn’t have to look up to see who it was. It shocked her. She didn’t let out her emotions a lot, and when she did, she’d usually be left alone. But here was this stranger, whose name she didn’t even know outside the Doctor, and she was comforting her. ______________________________________________________________

“You don’t have to do this.” She said, raising her head up.

“Why not? It’s the right thing to do.”

Johanna scoffed.

“No one’s ever that nice to people.”

“You’d be surprised...” the Doctor told her with a smile, “But..”

“But?”

“... I’ve also been there before. Losing people I’ve loved. Even one who looked like you.”

“What?!”

“Long story. The point is. I get it. I get how painful living a life that hurts people you love is. Trust me, I know how much it takes out of you. But just...don’t lose hope.”

“I’d need to have hope in the first place, luv.”

“You’d be surprised where hope can find you. Can be in the most unexpected of places.”

The bus then came to a stop as both women looked outside. There was... a police phone box outside, with a woman standing outside of it, tapping her feet. She looked a bit worried at first, before her eyes lit up and a smile reached her face once she saw the Doctor inside.

“That would be Yaz, I imagine.” Johanna said, smiling.

She could see from the deep blush and smile on the Doctor’s face that she really meant a lot to her, and for someone who seemed as good as she did, she was happy she found someone like that.

“Yep! My reason to keep hope alive.”

The Doctor got up and began walking towards the entrance, before she turned around to Johanna with a small smile.

“Please, eh, for me, don’t lose hope.”

“I’ll try.” Johanna said, nodding.

“And don’t be afraid. Goodbye... Johanna Constantine.”

And with that, she walked away and headed outside. As the bus’ doors closed, she could see the Doctor wrap her arms around Yaz in a hug. She smiled, seeing it, but there was still a twinge of pain, wanting that again. But maybe it was a possibility. At least one person believed in her. She could work with that, at least. If one person did, then maybe there would be another one day.... Maybe that person would be the one she’s been waiting for. She didn’t know, but at least now…. she had a bit of hope.

#13th doctor #doctor who #ao3 #fanfic #archive of our own #thirteenth doctor #the sandman #johanna constantine #sandman netflix #the sandman netflix #netflix the sandman

[whythinktoomuch]

Andrea sighs. “I hate this part.”

“And what part would that be?” Kara spares a small glance for her, but continues to tug on her socks, her shoes, and anything else that she might need on her way out of Andrea’s apartment without a second thought. Again.

“The part where you make me sleep alone.”

Kara whips her head around. “… I’m sorry?”

“Nothing.”

Andrea regrets everything as she buries her head underneath her pillow. Maybe she can blame this sudden onset of weakness on her most recent trend of foregone sleep, or maybe even the very reason for said lack of sleep now standing at the foot of her soon-to-be half-emptied bed. But it certainly isn’t something that deserves any more elaboration, much less voiced.

Unfortunately though, Kara’s never been one to let something go. The rustle of clothing dies away, leading to a padding of steps which leads to the sagging of Andrea’s bed as Kara sits down beside her. “Hey, what’s going on?”

--

“Nothing,” Andrea repeats, her voice firm despite being muffled under her pillow. “Make sure to lock the door on your way out.”

“No, come on…” Kara’s tugging on Andrea’s arm, thumb rubbing gently into her skin. “Talk to me. Please? I’m right here.”

Groaning to herself, Andrea finally sits up, frown deeply set and disgruntled. “Where are you even going anyway?”

Kara takes a deep breath before answering, and Andrea hates how these are the kinds of things that refuse to escape her notice now. “I told you,” Kara says slowly. “I’m meeting a source downtown.”

“Right now? After midnight?” Andrea says with a scoff. “You don’t have a better, more business-friendly time—I don’t know—during the day to be meeting up with these people?”

“I have to go where the story takes me! And I also have to meet my sources on their own terms if I want to cultivate a lasting sense of trust and profess—”

“But for what article?” Andrea demands. “You’ve already met all your deadlines for this week. You wouldn’t be here”—she gestures aimlessly about her bed—“otherwise, so what else could you possibly be researching right now?”

“It’s…” Kara stumbles slightly, and Andrea wills her heart to harden into something that can never sink. “This is for a new story. One that I’m thinking about pitching. Soon.”

“Okay. What story?”

“I can’t tell you yet! It’s not ready,” Kara says, and Andrea just scoffs again. “Hey, seriously. What’s really bothering you? You never care about my work.”

“I’m your boss, Kara. It’s literally my job to care about your work.”

“Just tell me what’s actually bothering you, and I’ll fix it.”

Andrea rubs at her face. “I’d just… really like to know what it’s like to sleep next to my girlfriend for once…”

“Your girlfriend?” Kara echoes. “Who’s your girl—oh!” Her eyebrows nearly shoot up to her hairline. “Wait, oh…”

Groaning once more, now about ready to bury her entire body beneath her pillow if possible, Andrea just waves her hand. “Never mind, okay? Just go.”

“No, hey, hey, hey…” Kara tugs on Andrea’s wrist, refusing, per usual, to let an unwieldy moment die down on its own. “Girlfriend?”

“Forget I even said anything…” Andrea starts, but Kara seems quite unwilling to. In fact, she’s looking at Andrea in complete awe, and Andrea can’t help but straighten up at the attention. Maybe even pushing out her chest a bit just to make a point. “All right, fine, we can talk about this. But you should know right now, that I can’t date anyone who refuses to sleep with me.”

“Pfft, what do you mean? We literally sleep with each other all the time,” Kara protests, until Andrea shoots her a meaningful look—glare. “Oh… Right. You meant, just sleeping, sleeping. Um. Okay. Well, I guess that’s something we can try if you really want…”

Andrea rolls her eyes. “I don’t want you to try it just to appease me, Kara. I want you to want it too. For your own sake.”

“I do want it too! I just didn’t realize that it was something that you’d want. From me, especially.”

“Why the hell not?” Andrea says. “I’m sorry—was the past hour and a half not convincing enough for you?”

Kara flushes all over, sputtering, “No, what I meant was… I didn’t realize that you actually liked me like that?”

“Again. Was the past hour and—”

“I get your point,” Kara says, flapping her hands. “And okay. I, you know… like you too.”

“Oh, how promising,” Andrea mutters, but her nerves were undeniably starting to settle. The flow of conversation now comfortably in her favor.

“And I do want that too,” Kara continues, cracking a smile. “So… let’s do it. Let’s be girlfriends who, you know, sleep together.”

“Deal.” Andrea clears her throat, fidgeting with her sheets. “I imagine that it’ll have to start another night though, no?”

Kara rubs at the back of her neck. “I’m sorry. I just really have to meet this source tonight. It’s really important, I swear.”

“Fine,” Andrea says in a sigh. “It’s not like I don’t understand the need to put one’s career first.”

Kara pouts. She reaches out to cradle Andrea’s face, thumb tracing down her cheek, and Andrea’s not melting, she’s not melting, she’s not.

“I’ll come back,” Kara says at last. “No matter how long this meeting goes for, I promise to come straight back here and sleep with you.”

“Oh, you promise?” Andrea laughs, but there’s a serious glint to Kara’s eyes, twinkling in the way that they do in the strangest moments sometimes.

“Absolutely. I’ll be right back. And I’ll be right here for you, okay?”

Andrea lets out another laugh, ducking her head slightly. “Okay. I guess we’ll see how you do then.”

“Thank you,” Kara says, beaming. “But for now, I really do have to go. I’m actually kinda late now.”

“Then go. I ain’t keeping ya.”

Kara leans in, clearly in askance of a goodbye kiss, but when Andrea goes to cup her face, Kara resists just a tad. “Trust me,” she says. “You kiss me like that, and I’ll never make it out of here.”

“Want to test that little theory?” Andrea asks, her voice dropped into huskier territory, and Kara accordingly flushes pink cheek to cheek.

“Oh… boy…” Kara says in a hushed whisper. “I… er, I gotta go though, so…” She quickly shakes her head. “Yup, gotta go, gotta go. So sorry, but bye!” Pecking at Andrea’s cheek, Kara all but bolts out the door.

With a tiny unseen pout, Andrea sinks back into her bed, her moment of vulnerability already regretted with that aching part of her chest. But Kara promised to come back, and she seems the type to keep promises like that—the girlfriend type, that is.

Andrea’s final thought as she’s drifting off is a fleeting hope that wherever Kara’s rushing off to meet her source wouldn’t be anywhere near the sirens that have been going off. The last thing this would-be relationship needs is for Andrea’s would-be girlfriend to get stuck in traffic this late at night because of fire trucks or something.

//

Andrea wakes up to a sudden dip in her bed, coherent thoughts still slow to return as a column of warmth wraps around her middle from behind. She blinks blearily into the darkness. The sharp bite of smoke lingering in the air somehow only seems to get stronger the clearer her vision gets.

“Sorry I’m late, baby,” comes a sleepy mumble close to her ear, and Andrea starts to chuckle, her surprise melting into blessed relief.

There’s a wry comment sitting on Andrea’s tongue as she glances over her shoulder, but the specifics of it all gets lost when she sees Supergirl curled up against her. “Whoa. W-wait…”

“Oh, m’s’rry…” Supergirl says softly, eyes still squeezed shut. “Forgot to ask… Can I call you ‘baby’ now, since we’re girlfriends who sleep together and stuff…?”

Andrea is reeling, as she takes in the sight. That is to say, the sight of National City’s darling and daring hero rapidly passing out in her bed, blonde hair strewn across Kara’s go-to pillow like a golden halo, her bulk scrunched up into a tiny ball of warmth pressed into Andrea’s side, cape splayed out without a care.

“You’re…” Andrea clears her throat, hopefully ridding herself of the dry stutter caught within. “Excuse me, you’re wearing boots in my bed.”

Supergirl lets out a small whine—there’s a literal, bona fide superhero whining all disgruntled in Andrea’s bed right now—and kicks out her feet. “But I’m so tired, maybe-baby.”

“Maybe-baby,” Andrea echoes, rolling her eyes, because okay, this is definitely Kara all right.

She manages to extricate herself from Kara’s embrace with surprising ease, considering, then manages to tug Supergirl’s boots off one by one with far less ease. But the sight that Andrea’s greeted with startles her into soft laughter.

“Hey. What’s so funny…”

“I like your socks,” Andrea says, slipping back under the sheets, eyes fluttering shut when Kara sidles right up against her once more. “You know, you weren’t wearing those when you left me.”

“Is it really leaving when I come right back?”

“Yes.”

Kara snorts, burying herself into Andrea’s hair with a sigh. “Mm, I like my socks too. Was a gift from Santa,” she says, and Andrea can almost feel Kara wiggling her toes. “I like the smilin’ fruits…”

“Yes, I figured you would.”

Kara lets out a mock scandalized gasp, “It’s s’pposed to be secret Santa, you know…”

“You know what else is supposed be a secret?” Andrea shoots back, arching an eyebrow that is of course lost on her half-asleep almost-girlfriend. But Kara seems to know, because she grins.

“Hm. We can talk about it in the morning, mm’kay?”

“Oh, we most certainly will,” Andrea says, turning on her side, allowing herself to be happily spooned. “Good night, Supergirl.”

“Yeah, yeah, good night, maybe-baby.”

#bloooooooop. #my words. #superrojas

[swinging-stars-from-satellites]

Though the Truth May Vary

996 words | AU from 2x06 Ascension | major character death (but only kinda) | first part of hopefully a much longer series created by @fortes-fortuna-iogurtum and me | AO3 | tagging @today-in-fic

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

Dying, Mulder discovers, feels a lot like falling.

The truth: he is falling, very literally, and is going to hit the ground very soon. Another truth: it's unlikely he can survive the landing. Yet another: he'll never find what he spent his life searching for.

The last truth that sears itself into his mind before the ground rushes in is this: Scully needs him, and he's failed her. He'll never see her again. Possibly no one will.

(Scully deserves more than becoming a statistic.)

He hits the ground, but never stops falling.

He expects to wake up in a hospital, at least, but when consciousness returns to him, all he sees is the forest he'd fallen in. His hand flies up to his neck — Scully's necklace is intact on its chain as it had been when he first decided to wear it. It's both a comfort and a reminder.

It's dark now, too dark, middle-of-the-night dark. Mulder curses and picks himself up from the forest floor. He feels a surprising lack of pain considering how far he had fallen, considering that by all rights he should be dead, but only finds the thinnest thread of gratitude at that. He's too late, too far from the top of the mountain to reach Scully, and in that moment he feels more like a child than he has since his sister was taken. It makes his head spin, or it should, but there must be off the charts levels of adrenaline in his blood because he should be in excruciating pain right now but he isn't.

(He is, but it isn't physical.)

It takes him nearly four hours to get to the top of the mountain, four hours that pass in a blur that feels much briefer than the time that's passing. Mulder's only pain remains despair. He's not a doctor, not Scully, doesn't know much more than what he needs to keep himself alive, but he should have broken bones; it's just common sense. He doesn't know how far he fell, isn't sure he wants to know. He knows he thought he was going to die. He knows his last thought before hitting the ground was of Scully.

(He knows that he's too late for her.)

He also knows that he should probably have quite a few broken bones, should probably have a concussion, should maybe have spinal damage. He fingers Scully's necklace, feels the tiny shape of the cross she's worn as long as he's known her, despite how much she claims and proves to be a skeptic in nearly all ways. He wonders if there's something to it, if the God Scully barely talks about but still seems to believe in might have protected him.

(Mulder, in a moment of wild weakness, prays and hopes her God will hear.)

He's known for a while that he would be too late, but some small part of him that was holding onto the tiniest shred of hope shrivels away when he sees the lights of the police cars and hears the chatter at the top of the mountain. He weaves through the small crowd of police and FBI, goes completely ignored. Somewhere to his left, he hears his own name in a snatch of conversation, and turns toward the speaker.

"I'm here," he calls wearily and approaches, reaching into his jacket for his badge but coming up empty. It's probably lost somewhere in the woods, which is the least of his worries.

(Scully's cross burns freezing hot against his neck, feels heavier than such a tiny piece of jewelry has any right to; he wants to reach up and touch it, but resists.)

The man who'd spoken doesn't acknowledge him. Mulder sighs. "Excuse me," he calls. "I'm Agent Mulder and I would like to know what's happening here."

(He already knows.)

Again, he's ignored, and he grumbles frustration before turning to look for anyone else who might pay him a bit of mind. He spots Alex Krycek near one of the police cars, trots over.

"Krycek, talk to me," he says, torn between wanting to know what had happened to the trolley operator and needing to know any news on Scully. "Krycek?" He snaps his fingers in front of the younger agent's face, but he doesn't even seem aware that Mulder is there. "Alex!" Mulder shouts, frustration and anxiety and despair tearing out of him as he moves to grab Krycek by the shoulders, maybe to shake him.

His hands go right through Krycek.

Mulder blinks, pauses, decides he's exhausted and probably does have a concussion after all. Krycek is still staring right through him, arms crossed, frowning, eyes a little vacant, watching the goings on around them. Mulder sighs, swallows down his probably misplaced anger, and prods at Krycek more gently this time. Again, he watches his own hand pass right through Krycek's shoulder.

He tries again, and again, tries to get the attention of anyone around; at one point he thinks someone walks right through him. He's dead, he thinks, and then realizes the fallacy. I think, therefore I am. He's thinking, obviously, which means that he does still exist, no matter how far he'd fallen off that trolley. He's unconscious, then, in some kind of dream or limbo and maybe about to die but not there yet.

(He won't admit it, but he's afraid. Now, he does reach up to touch Scully's necklace. It's oddly a comfort even without religion, even with the reminder of its true owner.)

He hears his name again and spins around, thinking something's finally changed and maybe he's really just so exhausted his mind is telling him he's become incorporeal; he can sleep it off and forget the waking dream ever happened. Instead, he catches a snatch of conversation that brings him to a dead halt.

(There's irony in that, a dead halt. Maybe someday he'll find that funny.)

"Agent Mulder's body was found in the woods several hours ago."

#FINALLY HAVE SOMETHING TO POST #like... this is gurt's and my BABY #I'm physically vibrating with excitement #Lu writes #little talks au #txf #the x files #fox mulder #dana scully #alex krycek #i actually have a bit of a subplot planned for alex boy but i need to actually rewatch the abduction arc first #the only reason i didn't already rewatch is bc i wrote most of this portion between watching s2 and s3 so it was still fresh #alternate title and explanation: ✨g h o s t A U✨ #gurt look! #userscully

[bigskydreaming]

Hi, I was reading your post about Jason punching Dick in the face when Dick revealed he fake his death was bullshit ( which it was) and it reminded me of an issue/question that has bothered me for sometime.

Why did people believe Dick was actually dead?

I’m not the most avid comic reader so maybe I missed something but it was always weird to me that everyone just accepted this especially given how Bruce was acting or should I say wasn’t acting.

This is a man when his child died another child had to come along and told him sir you are being too violent and emotional you need supervision. When his other child died he went all over the universe to bring him back to life because he knew it was possible ( which was happening at the same time), so why didn’t anyone think it was weird he wasn’t doing that for Dick. Can you imagine Dick really dying that soon after Damian it would be injustice Batman Version. You are telling me that Tim, Jason or Barbara didn’t think it was weird that Bruce didn’t also bring Dick’s corpse to the bring Damian back to life mission or mention it to themselves. Like what more likely Dick dead and Bruce is handling it well or that he fake his death to do something stupid and Dangerous after his partner/brother/ little bit my son the feelings are complicated died after he was knocked out and woke up to his corpse.

Oh man, this is like, the entire nature of my beef?

(Slight derail just to emphasize the fact real quick that Dick DID actually die, he was just revived quickly, but like, the trauma of his death was very real and its not like anyone was clued into Luthor having a resurrection backdoor built into his literal murder of Dick in the actual moment of it happening. So Dick’s death wasn’t fake, and additionally, he didn’t have anything to do with like, telling people about it, because he was literally comatose in the cave and recovering while Bruce was telling people....by the time Dick woke up in the cave, we already know that Alfred at least had already been convinced by Bruce that Dick was dead, so I have a kneejerk need to pushback against the Dick faked his death narrative by reminding people wherever possible that Dick had no agency in the spreading of that narrative. 

It happened without him being involved, and the only actual contribution he ever made to it was just not revealing he was alive before Grayson #12, after Bruce like.....emotionally, mentally and physically badgered him into accepting that doing so would be directly harmful to his family and he didn’t want to be the reason more people died when like, people had just died because he ‘let’ himself be captured and interrogated by Power Woman’s Lasso of Submission, did he?

SORRY TO BE PEDANTIC, just wanted to start this off on a clarification, even though I know the aim of your ask was very much in tune with the rest of my response. A lot of people don’t read the actual comics, so like, I’m never gonna skip over an opportunity to emphasize that the shorthand people use to refer to Dick’s death and the year he was with Spyral, is like, literally just shorthand for describing it. Its not actually an accurate description of how all that went down and who had the most hand in it).

BUT ANYWAY. BACK TO THE MEAT OF THE BEEF.

Okay so like, not only was the entire family and Bruce himself giving Dick shit for his death and Spyral, like, PAINFULLY egregious because it was literal victim blaming in every possible sense of the word....

None of it made a LICK of sense with ANY of their characterizations, and they ONLY all accepted it on face value because the Plot Demanded It, and when you're like, no, as a reader I say The Plot Demanded It is not a good enough reason for me to be like well sure, that makes sense......looking at the characters ACTUAL actions at face value pretty much just makes them all look like assholes?

Like, Tim has never gracefully accepted anyone's death. Ever. This is core characterization for him. He will go to the ends of the earth for his loved ones and to bring them back, prove they're not dead, refuse to let death be the final verdict for them. He was tempted to use the Lazarus Pit to bring his parents back to life. He refused to accept Bruce was dead long before he had any proof whatsoever of that theory. He tried to clone his BFF/future-husband Kon in his fucking basement like, dude was two whole inches away from going Full Dark Side in his quest to bring back a lost loved one no matter WHAT the cost.....and then you've got Dick unmasked onscreen, killed offscreen, and Bruce then reporting to the rest of them with zero inflection 'oh Dick's dead now. Its very sad' and Tim's just like, sure. Sounds legit.

I mean?!?!

And you're SO RIGHT ABOUT THE DAMIAN THING! Bruce LITERALLY LITERALLY LITERALLY went BEYOND the ends of the Earth, like, he full on chartered a fucking space ship to fly his whole family out to APOKOLIPS to bring Damian back from the dead by going to EXTREME lengths.....WHILE everyone else thought Dick was dead....

And not a single person looked at Bruce and was like, okay, not that we're not down to do this for Damian because we miss Stabby Smurf something fierce ourselves, but.....what the fuck is UP with you dude? Why aren't you displaying ANY hint of this same kind of energy in regards to your eldest son that you said you watched die right in front of you?

Like....I don't know that we were actually ever told that Dick's coffin was empty or had a fake in it, but like....this family of detectives who refuse to accept death, defy death, COME BACK FROM THE DEAD....not a single one of them said like, okay, if I'm gonna like, ACCEPT accept that Dick is dead and gone for good, I need to at least just see him one last time? That's literally all it would have taken for someone to realize hey something's a little wonky here. Where's the dead body, Pops?

Since when has Jason ever missed an opportunity to prove Bruce is a) full of shit, b) acting like an emotionless robot and all his kids deserve better especially when they've just like....died, c) just factually incorrect and wrong and jumped to a conclusion before it was conclusively proved, d) lying like a liar or e) all of the above?

Nobody even ASKED if Dick's body could be put in a Lazarus Pit? Yeah, Jason wouldn't necessarily recommend it himself, given what it put him through, but actually fuck that, I take that back, because I'm NOT actually of the opinion that Jason full on hates his life and actively spends every second of every day wishing he hadn't been resurrected, even if it had come with a huge buffet of additional trauma and pain.

And that's kinda what's implied when people just take it for granted that he would never be on board with any scenario involving using a Lazarus Pit to bring Dick back, because it suggests that based even just on his own experiences and feelings, he honestly believes Dick would prefer being dead and not have ANY further opportunities to be with his loved ones, his friends, help save the damn world again at some future point.....that Jason, projecting based just off himself, legit feels Dick would rather be dead than have another shot at life even WITH the downsides of Lazarus Pit usage? Nope. Sorry, I don't buy it.

Speaking of not buying it.....you know what was missing from all those soliloquies the others monologued at Dick about how they felt and were hurt and just devastated by his death, to such a point they can't seem to muster a single shred of happiness that he's NOT dead still -

(seriously, Damian was the ONLY person in ALL THE LANDS OF EMOTION-HAVING who expressed ANY kind of positive reaction to having Dick back. We were so fucking cheated of like.....ANY opportunity to have the characters show just how much they valued him by just being fucking HAPPY he was alive, no matter what else was involved....and then most of fandom compounded that by for years being like mmmm, no, Dick didn't get yelled at enough by his family for what HE put THEM through. Needs more yelling. More punching too. Bad Dick. Bad. This is the only way you'll learn not to die and get shipped off on a mission that you don't want but at least is to protect your family after being beaten into it by your dad whilst victim blaming you for dying in the first place. WHEN WILL YOU LEARN TO THINK ABOUT OTHER PEOPLE AND THEIR FEELINGS FOR A CHANGE, DICK?!?)

- But like, BUT I DIGRESS aside....you know what was missing from all those monologues about how hard DICK'S death and ensuing year of basically exile from his loved ones was for EVERYONE BUT HIM?

We never got a single line of explanation as to what everyone else officially thinks even happened to him in the first place?

Like, did Bruce straight up just say oh bad news kids, your brother umm. Expired. Spontaneously. There's no one to blame, he just keeled over, its all very sad.

Is that how that went down?

You're telling me that the explanation of Dick's death didn't come with a single pointed finger at someone for this family of blame-happy vigilantes to like, BLAME for the loss of this brother they all mourned oh so much, they just couldn't help but blame him for all the hurt it caused them?

The family that in every other fic is like OBSESSED with avenging and being avenged and all things vengeful and even tangentially vengeance-y....like didn't ask for a single detail on whomst the fuck deprived us of our brother-having?

Where were the attempts on Luthor's life by Jason (who I mean, yeah I know it was in a previous continuity, but erasing that timeline doesn't erase my awareness of the time Dick killed Jason's murderer so like.....mmm, just saying, woulda been nice)....where was the rage directed at the Crime Syndicate and references to how seriously and personally the Batfam took making sure that they were PUNISHED for all this and would never be free to wreak havoc on their world or their family again? What did they tell Damian when he came back to life, and how are you going to tell me that this fraternal little ball of fury didn't aim himself like a cannonball at whomever the fuck had DARED take HIS Batman from him when Damian wasn't around to have his back?

Not only does everyone else's desire to be avenged start falling really flat the second you factor in hey maybe Dick feels "mmm what about MY avenging" sometimes, and why doesn't anyone ever care about doing that for him.....but also, y'know what REALLY sucks about the ONLY person we actually SEE being blamed for Dick's death and ensuing absence being like....Dick himself?

Not only were his family all super keen on making all of this HIS fault and HIM the bad guy because of how it made them all feeeeeeel (and meanwhile fuck his feelings, am I right Batfam hfaklshfklahfkla).....

They somehow found a way to justify prioritizing this OVER ever even getting around to blaming some villain for his death in the FIRST place, in the entire year or so they thought he was still dead!

Like, you couldn't come up with a single target in all that time, but Dick's back two seconds, and you don't even give him a chance to EXPLAIN before you're punching him, shutting him down with 'I expected better from you' and turning away with 'I don't want to hear it, why am I surprised Dick Grayson disappointed me again'?

afshklfhalfhalfhla

Make it make sense!

And like, it won't, cuz it doesn't, and it never will, and like I said at the top, the ONLY reason it all played out this way is because DC doesn't give a fuck about character development and deemed it necessary to go down this way for the sake of the plot (which was totes worth it, I mean, glad we sacrificed characters for this A+ plot which was clearly the greatest plot of all time and definitely justified every story choice made or not made around it loooool).

BUT.

BUT BUT BUT.

The problem isn't JUST that DC is stupid, even though that is an eternal mood and quite the problem.

Its that the SECOND large parts of fandom decided to play along with DC and just accept the story at face value, only add to it and play into it exactly as it happened in canon with no significant deviations, and like, heaping on the LITERAL abuse from Dick's siblings while ignoring the LITERAL abuse from his father....

THAT....is when all of this becomes relevant.

Because the second people decided TO engage with the reasoning DC gave for what Bruce did and how and what Dick did and how and just not mess with any of that and have it all play out exactly like that...

The second people are like, okay we're FINE with not just dismissing this story as OOC writing that doesn't make any sense, and actually VALIDATING it to various degrees by engaging with it as is....

That's when 'OOC writing' stops being an excuse or explanation for alllll of the above gaps in character logic and actions.

Because its like, when you had abundant chance to REJECT this story and say nope, this was bullshit from start to finish and I'm not here for it, when you were just as capable of transforming literally ANY aspect of this story you didn't like into something that made more sense to you....

And you chose not to.

That's.....accepting it as valid writing. You were like, okay, I'm game to just treat this as a thing that happened, just like they said that happened.

For the chance to give Dick shit for it, see. For the angst, see.

And that's when I'm like okay cool, so when engaging with this story as is and accepting it on face value and just delving into the characters as they were SHOWN interacting with and around these events......for the angst or whatever....

You guys just all decided en masse to just hop, skip and jump over allllllllll the opportunities for angst inherent in examining even ANY SINGLE ONE of the above lapses in judgment or hypocrisy on the parts of the characters (who don't get to be excused by OOC writing if you're not going to call the story an example of OOC writing, whoops).

And its just like, uh, what's up with that?

#lol thank you for this ask tho #I havent gone on a good Spyral rant in months #it does wonders for my pores

[just-dreaming-marvel]

Unofficial Fathers

MAIN MASTERLIST

Avengers x Teen!Fem!Reader

Word Count: 5,450ish

Requests: I put two requests together for this one. I hope that it’s okay.

1-What about one with the Avengers and reader (maybe they have super speed???) where the reader is a teenager and super stressed out for whatever reason so the Avengers decide to get them moving by doing something with water (like water guns, balloons, slide, etc) with them. Just like fluff, I think it’d be kinda cute 

2-Can you write an avengers x teen!reader, where she lost function in both of her legs, which makes her really sad and depressed? The others have to help her with everything and she feels bad, so she ends up trying to do things herself, but gets hurt. Maybe steve and tony play a more significant role. Thanks!

Warnings: angst / fluff / paralysis / wishing to have died 

“Hey Speedy!” Tony called over the comms. “You’re up!”

“Finally!” You exclaimed.

The mission had started almost an hour ago, and the plan had been for you to hang out in the quinjet until you were deemed needed. Which annoyed you. Even though you were barely 17, you had been a part of the Avengers for almost 3 years. Longer than even Peter Parker.

Due to some freak accident during the Battle of New York, you somehow ended up with super speed abilities. That’s how Steve and Tony found you almost 3 years old. The two were in the city for meetings and you were zooming around helping people and playing pranks. You thought it would be fun to do something to those two. But before you could do something, Tony and Steve had you pinned to the wall with part of the Iron Man suit. Apparently, their ‘meeting’ was to actually find you and bring you in.

The whole Team was interested in getting to know you very quickly and get you properly trained. Natasha, Clint, Bucky, and Steve handled your combat training personally, while Tony and Bruce tested your abilities and created gear that would help you.

Steve and Tony, though definitely not a couple, took on the role of your parents. You even had begun calling them as such. Steve was Pa and Tony was Dad. They didn’t always agree on exactly how to handle you. But they loved you and that was a step above your real parents, who you didn’t even know.

“Y/N! I need you to get in the building and get anyone and everyone out!” Steve instructed. “As fast as you can! I think the building is going down!”

“You got it Cap!” You responded.

Using your super speed you rushed out of the quinjet and into the building. You zig-zagged through each floor. The first few were empty, but eventually you ran into some people. You quickly helped them out of the building to continue your search. You were almost done with you sweep when you felt the building tremble. You paused, glancing around.

“Kid!” Tony shouted in the comms. “The building is going down. Where are you?”

“Uh… I don’t think you want to know,” you responded.

“Please tell me you’re not still in the building, Y/N,” Steve said.

“I’m sorry, Pa. I’m almost done with my sweep. Just one last floor.”

“No, Y/N! Get out of there now!”

“Just one more floor!” You sped away to get to the last floor.

“I’m on my way to you, Y/N,” Tony said. “Meet me at the Northwest window.”

“Alright. I’m almost—“ 

You suddenly heard a loud cry. You turned to see a little girl huddled up in the corner as the building’s tremor’s worsened. Rushing to the little girl, you barely missed the ceiling caving down and breaking the floor.

“I’m outside the window, kid!” Tony exclaimed. “You need to get here, now!”

“There’s a kid in here!” You retorted, grabbing the little girl. You sped to the window. “You need to take her.” You held her out to Tony. 

“Not without you!”

“Just take her, Dad! Please!”

He quickly took her from your arms. “Don’t do anything! I’ll be right back!”

He flew off and the floor began to crack worse beneath your feet. You knew, even with your super speed, that you wouldn’t be able to make it out of the building without Tony coming for you. When another section of floor collapsed, you knew you needed to get out of there.

“Dad!” You shouted.

“I’m almost there, honey!” He responded. “Just hang on!”

The floor cracked beneath you, sending you falling. You grasped onto the ledge.

“Dad!” You screamed.

“Almost, there—“

“AHHH!”

The building’s roof collapsed, with the rest of the building following. You were pushed down with the debris, screaming.

“Y/N!!!” A multitude of voices screamed over the comms.

But you didn’t hear anything else, because you landed with a thud, hitting your head and blacking out before the rest of the building landed on you.

~~~

“Tony, come take a rest,” Clint urged. “At least drink something.”

You had been stuck under the building for hours at this point, with Tony working non-stop to try and get to you. 

“I can’t,” Tony responded. “My kid’s down there.”

“Scott’s almost here, he’ll shrink down and see what’s going on.”

“I can’t afford to waste a second.”

“Stark, we don’t know if moving any of this will make it worse for her,” Bucky said. “We could just be killing her faster.”

“You don’t think I know that!” Tony spun around. “But she’s the closest thing I have to a daughter! And I’ve already let her down once today.”

“You didn’t let her down.”

“I’m the one who told her to go into the building,” Steve said, everyone able to feel the self blame in his words. “I did this to her.”

“Stop with the blame game here, guys,” Clint interrupted. “Y/N wouldn’t want that. Now, we need—"

“I’m here! I’m here!” Scott yelled, running up with Hope. “Romanoff and Banner got us hooked up to cameras and we brought extra Pym particles so that we can get her out of there.” He briefly made eye contact with Tony and Steve. “We’re going to get her out of there.”

“We’ve got this,” Hope confirmed.

Shrinking, the two quickly got into the rubble. The others rushed over to the screens so that they could hear and see what was going on. It was dusty, that much was clear. But the couple were quick to follow FRIDAY’s leads on where to go. The AI was trying to to its best to sense were you were by heat signatures.

“Miss Y/N should be just below,” the AI informed the two in the debris.

“There she is,” Steve breathed out, seeing your head on the screen. It was clear that blood had been, or still was, coming from somewhere on your head. “Tell us what’s going on guys. What’s her status?”

“She’s breathing,” Hope confirmed. “She’s scratched up, but it looks like the bleeding as stopped.”

“She’s lost quite a bit of blood,” Scott added. He turned, revealing her bottom half, squished under a large piece of cement. “That’s not good.”

“Shit,” Tony whispered. “No.”

“We need to shrink her before the damage gets worse,” Hope said. “Get on the other side of her, Scott.”

“On it,” Scott replied.

“You ready?”

“Uh-huh.”

“Shrink her in 3, 2, 1.” 

Your body was quickly shrunk. Hope and Scott quickly worked together to secure you to Hope.

“Okay, she’s secure,” Scott said. “We’re on our way up.”

“You’re going to want to get everything ready,” Hope warned. “We aren’t going to want to bring her back to normal size without being ready to work.”

“Helen Cho is waiting back at the compound with her team,” Bruce informed. “Natasha and I have the quinjet ready to stabilize her as much as we can on the way.”

“Steve, Tony, you may want to stay away. It’s worse than the camera’s probably caught.”

“Not a chance.” / “Like hell!”

“Hope is right,” Clint said. “Bruce needs to be able to check her out with out you two hovering.” He looked at Bucky, the two seemingly having a silent conversation. They both took a step towards the two other men. “When they bring her out, we can’t have you two going all papa bears.”

“We’re in the quinjet,” Scott informed.

Clint and Bucky were quick. Bucky went for Steve, fighting with him to slow him down. Clint quickly shot an arrow at Tony’s arc reactor, shutting down the suit and effectively locking Tony in it. While that was happening, the others raced to the quinjet, getting it off the ground before the four men could get there.

Scott normalized himself first before helping Hope with herself and Y/N. Natasha and Bruce were waiting, ready to grab you as soon as they could. You were limp in Bruce’s arms, so incredibly so that it scared even the Hulk to his core. He and Natasha worked quickly and efficiently together to do everything they could before getting to the compound.

Back at the site, the four men had slowed down their fighting.

“How could you do that Clint?” Tony asked, clearly hurt as he was able to get his helmet off. “You have kids. You should understand the need to be with them when they’re injured.”

“I do,” Clint replied. “That’s why we knew we needed to stop  the two of you.”

“Whatever happens, it’s going to be hard,” Bucky said. “And they need to be able to fully evaluate her. It was either this or sedation… We’re sorry. We want to be there for her too."

~~~

It was two hours before Cho had finished running all the tests and an hour after that before Tony and Steve could wait at your bedside. You were all bandaged, bruised, and scrapped, but you were alive. That’s all that really matter. The test results had yet to come back, so the men had to try and be patient. You sucked in a breath, alerting the men to the possibility of you waking up.

“Y/N?” Steve softly called. “You there, doll?”

“Pa?” You rasped, head turning towards the sound of his voice while your eyes crept open.

“Hey.” He smiled.

“Hi, kid,” Tony said. 

You turned to look at him. “Dad.”

“How are you feeling?”

“Like I feel a hundred feet and then a building landed on me.”

“We’re not surprised there,” Steve commented.

“Hey, Y/N,” Helen Cho greeted as she walked into the room with her tablet. “How are you doing? Any unusual pain?”

“Well the drugs you’ve given me are trippy,” you replied.

“Drugs?” She repeated concerned, glancing at Tony and Steve.

“Yeah. I can feel my upper half, but my waist and below are completely numb. What did you give me, doc?”

Helen immediately went to work. She tore off the blankets covering your feet and immediately began running her pen up and down them.

“What’s going on?” You asked, trying to sit up.

“Steve, go get Bruce,” Helen ordered. Steve nodded and rushed out.

You looked at Tony. “Dad? What’s going on?”

“I-I— oh my gosh,” Tony stammered, hand covering his mouth. 

“Dad!”

“We didn’t give you any pain meds, Y/N,” Helen stated.

“What?”

“We wanted to see if there was any damage done, so we didn’t want the pain meds getting in the way.”

“So… I—I… I can’t…” You began hyperventilating. “I…”

“Honey, lay down,” Tony urged, gently pushing you onto the bed. “Breathe.”

“I’m here!” Bruce said, hurrying in with Steve. “We need to get her into the scanner and compare it to the other tests we’ve taken.” 

Helen quickly went to the head of your bed, unlocking the wheels. All of this was scaring you.

“Dad?” You looked at Tony, teary eyed, before looking at Steve. “Pa?” They both grasped one of your hands.

“We’re right here,” Steve said, bringing your hand up for a kiss as Helen and Bruce began to wheel you away.

“You both need to stay here, while we run the scans,” Bruce said.

“No! Please!” You pled, crying.

“I’ll be with you, Y/N. Tony and Steve just need to stay here.”

Bruce and Helen pushed you away as you begged and cried out for Steve and Tony. The rest of the Team rushed into the hallway to see what was happening. They witnessed you being pushed down the hall.

“What the hell is going on?” Sam asked, looking into the room where Tony and Steve had been left. Both men looked distraught, and absolutely heartbroken.

“Steve?” Bucky questioned.

“She… She… I…” Steve couldn’t pull his thoughts together.

“Tony?” Natasha questioned. 

The man fell back into a chair, burying his head in his hands. “She couldn’t feel her legs,” Tony whispered. “She couldn’t feel her legs.”

“She thought they had given her pain killers,” Steve continued, whispering as well.

“Steve, sit down,” Bucky said, moving to help his friend. “You look like you could pass out.”

“I might… she couldn’t feel her legs…”

“She’s going to be alright,” Sam said. “Y/N’s a fighter.”

“Yeah, but… she couldn’t feel her legs…”

~~~

After getting you into the scanner, Bruce and Helen actually gave you drugs to help you calm down. You were asleep almost as soon as they were injected. The two doctors worked together to look over each scan and previously done test. Only to reach the same conclusion each time. You were paralyzed. This brought on a multitude of worries, but the biggest one had to do with your abilities. Would you ever be able to use them again? 

After finding out about the diagnosis, it was the first question to leave Tony’s lips. Tony and Steve were standing outside your med-bay room, Helen and Bruce in front of them. The two doctors sighed, glancing at one another.

“No,” Bruce answered. “She wouldn’t be able to use her abilities again.”

What they didn’t know was that you had woken up just in time to hear Tony ask the question and Bruce answer it. Covering your mouth, you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to stop from sobbing.

“She’s going to need help with everything, especially right now,” Helen continued for Bruce. “She’s going to need to be looked after. And I—“

“We’ll do it,” Steve replied, firmly. “We’re her family, we’ll take care of her.”

“I know that you two—this whole team, sees her as family. But this is going to be a long, hard road.”

“What are you saying?” Tony asked. “That we send her away? She’s almost 17! Who would be willing to adopt her at that age? Especially when we are her family!” He motioned between himself and Steve. “We are her fathers!”

“I understand, Tony. But you need to be prepared. She’s going to need help with the little everyday things. Bathing, getting changed, going to the bathroom. Somebody’s going to need to help her with it.”

“We will,” Steve repeated, still as firm as before. “Whatever she needs, for as long as she needs it. Whether it’s officially legal or not, she is our daughter and we will help her through it all.”

“I can make her braces,” Tony said. “Just like I did with Rhodes.”

“We actually believe that it would be more valuable if she learns to live with a wheelchair first,” Bruce responded. “Just in case anything were to happen with the braces, that she wouldn’t be completely helpless.”

“I agree with Bruce on this one,” Steve said. “She needs to be able to live in a wheelchair before she tries braces.” 

“We will have her in physical and occupational therapy such, so she doesn’t lose all the muscles in her legs.”

Just then, Wanda rushed passed them, heading for your door. “Wanda?” Steve questioned. “What’s going on?”

“The pain,” Wanda replied. “She’s in so much pain.”

Following Wanda into the room, they witnessed you trying to control your emotions. Though it was clear you were upset. Tony and Steve rushed to either side of you.

“It’s okay, honey,” Tony whispered, wiping tears off your cheeks. “It’s okay.”

“N-no…” you rasped, shaking your head. “It’s… n-not…”

“Did you hear what we were talking about?” Steve asked. You nodded. “I’m so sorry, doll. You shouldn’t have had to find out that way.”

You couldn’t stop the sobs at this point. You had just gotten the worse news you could have imagined. You were paralyzed and know unable to use your abilities. In your mind, you were basically useless. 

Steve quickly got into bed with you, pulling you into his arms. As he cradled you, he tried to get you to calm down. He glanced around worriedly at everyone else in the room, who didn’t know how to help.

~~~

“You need to eat, Y/N,” Tony pressed, trying to hand you a plate again. 

“I’m not hungry,” you replied, voice void of all emotion.

You had fallen asleep in Steve’s arms, where the two of you stayed until morning. Tony brought in breakfast while Steve went to get ready for the day.

“You need to eat,” he said again.

“I said, I’m not hungry,” you repeated.

Tony sighed, seating the plate down. “Do you not like waffles? I can have Happy go get something else. A burger? Fries? Ice cream?”

“I want my legs back.”

“Kid—“

“Don’t try to make me feel better about this. You have no understanding about how I am feeling.”

“I wasn’t trying to. I just—“

“Can you leave me alone? I want to be alone.”

Tony knew that you just needed a moment. So without responding, he got up and left, closing the door behind him. He leaned against the wall next to it, running a hand down his face. The guilt he was feeling was real. If only he had grabbed you and the kid, or if he had just flown faster.

“You’re going there too?” Steve asked, coming up to lean on the wall across from Tony. 

“The guilt is real,” Tony responded.

“Yeah… I shouldn’t have had her go into the building. What was I thinking?”

“I shouldn’t have let her convince me to take the kid… but, I guess, feeling this way won’t do her any good now, will it?”

“No, unfortunately, it won’t.” Steve looked at the closed door. “How is she?”

“She refused to eat… I’m thinking about having Happy get all her favorite foods for lunch.”

“Good idea. Maybe we could even try the wheelchair out and bring her to the common area.”

“I like it.”

“I’ll let everyone know about it.”

“Yeah, I—“

“Excuse me, Boss, Captain,” FRIDAY interrupted. “But Y/N is in need of immediate assistance.”

~~~

After Tony left, you huffed. This was miserable. You didn’t want to be stuck in this bed. And, honestly, the longer you sat there, the more you needed to go to the bathroom. You just didn’t want to ask for help, you didn’t want that to be your life. Studying the distance between your bed and the toilet for a few moments, you decided to get there yourself. Besides, they hadn’t tried to stand you up and get you to walk, maybe this was all one big cruel joke.

Taking a deep breath, you flung your covers off. You pushed yourself towards the edge of the bed, helping your legs to rest over it. Other deep breath in and you pushed yourself off the bed, trying to stand. You immediately fell. Trying to brace yourself, you landed on your hands. One of your wrists cracked, failing to break your fall. In the midst of the struggle, your bladder decided to let loose, causing you to lay in a pool of your own pee. You clutched your wrist close to your chest as your door burst open, revealing two extremely worried men. You looked at them, with tears cascading down your cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” you said. “I just wanted to do something by myself.” They looked at you with complete pity, which you absolutely hated.

“It’s okay,” Steve said, getting on the floor beside you, minding the puddle. He noticed your wrist. “Did you hurt yourself?”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ll go run and get you clothes, sweetheart,” Tony said. “Steve will help you into the shower. It’s all going to be okay.” He rushed out.

“No it won’t,” you whispered as Steve scooped you up into his arms. “It will never be again.”

And Steve thought his heart couldn’t shatter more than it already had. As he lifted you, he could practically feel the weight that this was having on you. You wouldn’t look at him as he took you into the bathroom and set you on the shower floor.

“Can I help you undress?” Steve asked.

You inhaled sharply, closing your eyes. This was your life now. Though you could undress yourself, you would always need help, basically be waited on all the time.

“If you want, I can go grab Natasha,” Steve suggested. “Or Wanda. Or, Pepper might even be in today. You love Pepper.”

“I want to be alone,” you mumbled.

“Y/N, I just want to help. Just let me help.”

“And I just want to be alone.” Tears were still falling, though you couldn’t understand how.

“Y/N—“

“Just leave me alone!” You shouted, pushing yourself into the corner.

“What’s going on in here?” Tony asked, bringing in the clothes with Pepper following.

“Leave me alone!”

“Why don’t you guys wait outside?” Pepper suggested. “I’ll help Y/N.”

Steve sighed, straightened up from his kneeled position and hurrying out of there. Tony looked at you sadly before taking his leave. Pepper shut the door and came to your side.

“What do you want me to do?” She asked softly.

“I want to be left alone,” you responded, frustrated and not willing to look her way.

“That’s not going to happen and you know it, Tony and Steve won’t allow it. Those men out there care about you and are so extremely worried. All they want to do is help.”

“I don’t care.”

She let out a small sigh. “Will you at least let me help? We need to get you out of those clothes and washed up. Especially since that wrist needs to get checked out.”

After a moment, you gave in and looked at her. “Okay.”

Pepper smiled at you briefly. “Okay.”

~~~

Apparently, there was already a hairline fracture in your wrist because of the accident. Your fall off the bed didn’t do anything to help it. You had willingly let Pepper help you clean up, but other than that you were still fighting asking for help.

The Team had tried to lift your spirits at lunch out in the common area, but to no avail. After that, you were taken to your regular room, where a twin bed had been added.

“What’s that?” You asked, you hadn’t spoken since the bathroom. 

“Someone is going to stay in here with you until things start becoming normal again,” Steve replied, pushing the wheelchair further into the room. 

“Normal,” you scoffed.

“Buck and I were thinking we could have a movie night today. Maybe try and watch all of the—“

“I just want to sleep.”

“That’s okay too.”

“I would be here too kid,” Tony added, “but Pep and I are working out somethings with the physical therapist.”

“What’s the point of physical therapy? My legs don’t work.”

“It’s to keep your muscles, so that one day you can get braces.”

You nodded, glancing around until you were staring at your tennis shoes on the floor. They were brand new, Stark designed shoes. They were meant to not wear as fast because of your speeding abilities. Your speeding abilities that you could no longer access.

“Can you do something with those?” You asked, pointing at them. 

Both Tony and Steve looked over. They got a tad deflated after remembering how excited you had been about those shoes.

“Yeah, sure, kid,” Tony responded, grabbing them. “I’ll just put them up in your closet. We can—“

“No,” you interrupted. “I want them gone.”

“Y/N—“

“I don’t need any reminders of what I’m now unable to do.”

“Sweetheart,” Tony got down in front of you, “you can still, or will be able to, do a lot. You got lucky.” He immediately regretted his last sentence, even Steve flinch.

“I got lucky? I. Got. Lucky?”

“Y/N, that’s not what—“

“Get the hell out!”

“Hey, that’s not how you talk to your—“

“My what? Father?! Cause you aren’t, remember? Maybe you should take Helen’s advice and give me away! Might make it easier on everyone!”

“You are my daughter, damn it! Whether it’s official or not, or by blood!”

“Y/N, Tony—“ Steve tried to interrupt. 

“No! I actually will say that you got lucky. You did because you have people willing to help you, willing to support you.”

“Well stop!” You shouted back. “Have you ever thought that I don’t want any of your help?! Maybe I think that you should have just left me down there to die! It would have been better that way! I’m basically useless like this!”

“Enough!” Bucky yelled, barging in with Nat. “Steve, Tony, out.”

With a glare sent their way from Nat, the two men didn’t even argue. You were refusing to look at Bucky and Nat. Half embarrassed that you said those things to the men you considered your dads, and half embarrassed that you were believing the terrible thoughts your mind was taunting you with.

Bucky and Natasha looked at each other, unsure of what exactly to do. You let them help you into bed before they left you alone, leaving with a promise to bring food later. 

In the loneliness of your bedroom, you let your thoughts consume you. How you were now useless as an Avenger without being able to have super speed. How you wished they would have just let you die. How you wish they wouldn’t be so helpful, it was driving you crazy. How you really didn’t have any family, you were all alone.

~~~

To respect your boundaries, Tony and Steve decided to let the others help them. No matter how hard it was. It hurt them to see you struggling through everything and not rush to your side. Not that you would let them help, you weren’t letting anyone without putting up a fight.

Steve and Tony had had many talks since they realized you were wishing that you had just died. Tony had made sure that FRIDAY had surveillance on you 24/7 and the Team, besides Tony and Steve, were switching sleeping in your room every night. 

It wasn’t easy on anyone, especially since you were having nightmares about being stuck down in the debris. Someone would wake you from the dream, only to be quickly shut out. The terrors would leave you trembling, sweating, and in a state of panic. But, with you not willing to let people help, the others were forced to watch you struggle with this.

Physical and occupational therapy was a whole other issue. You were rude to the therapists and unwilling to do anything. As the weeks went by, the Team could see the affect it was happening on your legs and they were concerned. Steve and Tony would watch each session from above, angry at the whole situation.

It had been two months since the whole incident, and you still weren’t showing any signs of changing your attitude any time soon.

“Come on, Y/N,” your therapist sighed. “What I’m asking you to do isn’t all that hard. I’m going to do all the work.”

“No,” you stated, determined.

“Y/N—“

“Why don’t you go help someone who’s more able to do things? Maybe someone who will actually get better. I’m sure they’d love your help."

“I can’t watch this anymore,” Tony said to Steve, watching from above. “She’s hurting herself.”

“You know we can’t force her to do anything, Tony,” Steve replied. “We have to let her do this on her own.”

“No, we don’t.” Tony turned around and headed for the room you were currently in.

“Tony! What are you going to do?”

“Use the hate she is harboring towards what happened, towards us, for her benefit.”

Tony burst into the room, causing you and the therapist to jump. You furrowed your brows, confused at what Tony and Steve could possibly be doing here.

“Hand me your leg, Y/N,” Tony demanded.

“What? No,” you responded.

“Hand me your damn leg!”

“No!”

“Fine!” Tony marched over and picked you up from your wheelchair.

“Put me down!” You tried to push off Tony. “Let me go!”

“Tony!” Steve called. “What are you doing?”

“It’s time for some tough love,” Tony responded. He set you down, not gently, on a therapy table. He grabbed your leg and began doing the exercises.

“Let go of me!” You demanded, trying to reach and pry him away, but failing. 

“No! Don’t you see what you are doing to yourself? What you’re doing to those around you?! You are miserable and you are making others miserable! Yes, what happened to you was absolute shit. Trust me, Steve and I will have that guilt with us for the rest of our lives. But it’s up to you to decide how to come out of this. You ever fight to live, fight to find the new normal, or you let yourself whither away. And I’m not about to let that last one happen.”

“You may think you’re alone in this, but you aren’t,” Tony continued. “Steve and I, the Team, we all want to help you through this. Even if that means sticking with you for life.”

During Tony’s whole thing, you had began crying. He was right, you were making yourself and everyone around you miserable.

“I’m sorry,” you cried out. “I’m so sorry… I just… I just wish…”

“I know, honey, I know,” Tony said, moving to pull you into his chest. You melted into him, crying. He placed a kiss on your head. “I’ve got you… I’ve got you.”

“Don’t leave me, Dad.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

Steve came over and grabbed one of your hands, gently kissing it. You gave his hand a squeeze.

“I’m sorry, Pa,” you croaked.

“It’s okay,” Steve replied with a tiny smile. “No need to apologize. Just please don’t say that you would have rather died again. I don’t think I could take it if you did.”

“If I died or said it again?”

“Both.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

“Will you guys… uh, will you guys help me with my exercises?”

“Of course, honey,” Tony replied. “But maybe Steve should do the other leg, because I think I wore myself out.”

Steve stood. “I’ll exercise that leg better than you could, Stark,” he commented.

“Oh, you’re on, Rogers.” Tony swiftly stood up.

“Great,” you muttered. “Now this is going to be a thing.”

~~~

Now that you were accepting help, things were beginning to look up again. Not that things weren’t hard, but they were better and you could handle it all better. The Team had decided to celebrate, but wouldn’t tell you how. Wheeling your wheelchair into the common area, you found it pitch black.

“FRIDAY,” you called out to the AI, “can I get some lights?”

“Of course,” the AI responded.

The lights came on and suddenly you were being pelted with water from squirt guns. The Team came out of their hiding spots, laughing, as they continued to fire at you.

“Guys!” You squealed, trying to shield yourself. “Guys! St-stop!”

“Never!” Sam exclaimed as he made his way closer to you.

“Here,” Peter said, lowering himself from the ceiling. “Take this.” He offered you a large gun. “Save yourself.”

You laughed as you began to fight back. Suddenly, you were pulled backwards by both Steve and Tony, who were trying to use you and the chair as protection.

“They’ve turned against us!” Tony exclaimed.

“Help us, Y/N!” Steve added.

You couldn’t stop laughing as you, Tony and Steve worked together to try and defeat the others. The Team couldn’t stop smiling as they watched you act so happy. It was so refreshing. After the common room was all but turned into a pool, the Team decided to change and then meet down in the movie room to relax for the night. When Y/N had arrived down there, Tony and Steve had saved a place between them.

“Can I help you onto the couch?” Steve asked.

You responded with a nod and let Steve pick you up, wrapping your arms around his neck. He carefully guided you through the maze of lodging teammates to the spot him and Tony had chosen on the couch.

“Thanks Pa,” you said as he set you down. You pulled your legs up close to you.

“Not a problem,” he smiled, sitting down beside you.

Tony spread a blanket over you guys. “Thanks, Dad.”

“Of course,” Tony responded, leaving a little kiss on your forehead.

You curled up against Tony as Steve moved your legs to rest over his lap, allowing him to massage them. FRIDAY quickly turned on your favorite movie. You glanced around, taking in everyone around you, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Though your life was going to continue to have its challenges, you were glad you had found this family.

Part 2

#the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #tony stark imagine #steve rogers x imagine #marvel x reader #the avengers x teen!reader #avengers x teen!reader #tony stark x teen!reader #steve rogers x teen!reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines

[angelguk]

omg so i sent in an ask re angst jock jk n oc ! but then i also realized its highly possible these 2 break up at one point while in uni mostly bc of the "are we dating bc its convenient" kinda dilemma and then it just pushes them apart bc they think theyre losing theirselves while being in such a close relationship,,,cue save ur tears by theweeknd BUT i just know when they grow up a lil bit more, theyll end up together <3

here we go! (the beginning of the end....may be...)

didn’t include save your tears as the soundtrack but may haps for the follow-up :3

pairing: jock!jk and oc

warnings: angst, yes the break-up scene, jaykay being an ass (a very huge one motivated by his own insecurities and selfishness – translation: he’d rather break her heart and carry that weight than be the heartbroken one), chayoung is no longer Seed of Doubt but something else (still up for debate but she’s fairly nice here), not edited but hey atp that’s part of my branding (also i would like everyone to consider that oc is not the greatest gf ever like guys don’t hate jk alone!!)

soundtrack: bags, clairo + stay, gracie abrams + say you know, alina baraz

(titled — honeymoon fades)

Jeongguk’s contact name hasn’t lit up the screen of your phone for six days now and you haven’t seen his face for just as long. It’s weird to go from constant incessant  communication to complete and utter radio silence. Not a single meme deposited in your Instagram inbox, no random notification from his Twitter. Just silence, quiet brewing silence. 

It breaks two days later when Chayoung finds you coddled under your duvet, mouth stuffed with the saccharine sweetness of mint chocolate. (Jeongguk kept a stash of it at your place but who was around to eat it anymore apart from you?). 

“And why do you look like you live in a dumpster?” She’d hummed, ripping open the curtains you’d involuntarily welded shut. 

“Because that’s how I feel inside,” you’d retorted, pushing aside your laptop. The screen is stuck with an image of an idiotic character named Nabi kissing the spawn of Satan. You hope for her sake it works out. Chayoung had huffed at your response, fondly whacking your head with a stray pillow. 

“Well get over that feeling cause we’re going out tonight.” A declaration, the fierceness in her feline eyes a warning that you’re not allowed to even think of saying no. That doesn’t mean you hadn’t tried – sorrowful eyes and pouted lips as you begged her to spare you. But Chayoung is a force of nature, one that could easily wreak havoc on your delicateness. And she does though, with a string of comments that propels you out of the miserable burrow you’d dug up. 

“You’re killing everyone, you know?” She’d supplied, yanking open your closet. “You’re sulking, Jeongguk is shutting down. He’s said like five words since this whole...thing...you have going on.” 

You couldn’t help but scoff at that, toying with the corner of the large grey shirt donned on your body. Jeongguk’s shirt. One of his favourites actually. You’d thought about stealing it after spying it on his obsessively neat laundry pile, but after seeing your wandering eyes he’d given it to you instead. 

“He always does that,” you’d said after Chayoung had whipped her head in your direction, curved eyebrows perplexed. “I mean, shut down. It’s his emotional response to things that bother him. Complete detachment so it hurts less.”

She had just stared at you, a long meaningful look at left your skin prickled. 

“Huh.”

“What do you mean ‘huh’?”

A measured step forward, her body weight sinking into the edge of your mattress a moment later. “I mean, you know him so well.”

“Of course I do he’s my best-friend,” you’d said, indignation coating your words

“No–No you're not getting me. You know him. You know he wouldn’t make the move to reconcile–”

“But he should!”

“You told him to go away! He’s trying to listen to you even though he’s hurting!”

And maybe that was it, that simple implication that you were causing him pain that had you pausing, reviewing the things you’d said to him – the things you’d felt. 

“But,” a timid rebuttal, “I just–I just need him to show me that he cares.”

“He does,” Chayoung had returned. “So much. And he misses you. He’s probably just afraid that you don’t feel the same.”

“But I do! He knows this.”

“Does he?” A question in her eyes, one that you’re afraid you know the honest answer to. 

You say things and never mean them, he had said, eyes hard.

That had hurt you but perhaps he was right, there are things you hadn’t told him, feelings you hadn’t truly expressed. And Jeongguk had always been good to you, so understanding and caring, trying to fill the places were you lacked. Wasn’t he the one who planned the majority of your dates? Remembered all the important milestones of your relationship while you contributed the bare minimum. You hadn’t even told Chayoung about the surprise he had planned for your one-year anniversary, the shame of your own choice hanging heavy over your head. 

So that’s why you’re here, staring at the back of his head forlornly as the music drifts around you, flashing florescent lights bathing him a hazy glory. He hasn’t seen you yet (something you’re thankful for because oddly enough you feel sick to your stomach). It feels like you’re skating on thin ice, waiting for the impending crack to sound through your heart, ice water swallowing you whole immediately. Chayoung is the one who pushes you forward, gingerly plucking the idle drink from your hand, Jimin aiding her efforts with a soft smile your way. 

It’s time for you to try the way Jeongguk has, put aside that bumbling ego that oversees your actions and adopt the humility he’s always granted you.

“Go,” she murmurs. “He misses you.”

And God you hope he does because you’ve missed him too. 

Except the moment his honey eyes land on you you know he hasn’t.

“Jeongguk,” you mumble. Yoonoh is frozen beside him, concerned gaze flicking between your faces. Your own eyes are stuck on him, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips, the subtle hint of the dimple in his cheeks. 

You’ve missed him, and it slips from your heart and brims in your eyes, vision blurry as your blink those stray tears back inside. 

“Hi,” you add, when his silence doesn’t break.

“I should probably go,” Yoonoh lets out, awkward words bumping into the wall of tension standing firm between you to. He settles a hand on Jeongguk’s shoulder, sending him a look that feels loaded. “See you guys later, right?”

You nod, finally noticing the lump clogging your throat. “Yeah, sure.” Jeongguk just hums, the edge of his cup caught between his lips. Yoonoh flees within seconds, leaving you to wade through this alone. 

“I–I know you’re not happy with me right now, but please, can we just talk?” He blinks at you, it feels like a premonition. “Please?”

“Okay.” The simple word fills you, like a hollow you weren’t aware of finally found the cure needed. 

“Okay,” a small smile on your lips. Jeongguk’s face is still unreadable. He guides you up and away from the deafening sound of the song bleeding from the speakers, into an empty room, the door closing behind him muting the music and giving way to the own pounding in your head. Nobody says anything for a second, both of you navigating this uncharted territory of animosity. Until Jeongguk sighs, melting into the bed at the centre of the room. You follow suit, allocating enough space between the two of you. You’ve ever had to do that before.

“You said you wanted to talk?” Jeongguk finally cuts through it, eyes unforgiving when he glances at you.

“I did! I do–Just Jeongguk,” you can’t help it drifting out. “I miss you.”

Nothing, not even a flicker in his eyes. He eyes shift to the floor instead. “Okay. I that what you wanted to say?”

“No–No not just that! I’ve missed you Jeongguk and I’m sorry. I’m sorry that i went off on you like that and I’m sorry I haven’t been the best towards you and I’m sorry that I’ve made you feel like I didn’t care about you–or made you feel like the things I said or did had no meaning behind them. Because they do–they do because I love you. I love you so so much and I’m sorry if I made it seem like otherwise.” You automatically extend out for him, hoping to grasp on his thing floating to fast away from you. Jeongguk shifts and you hand tumbles down to the empty space between you instead, halted by his hesitance. 

His head drops into his palms a second later, a broken exhale leaving his lips. The motion cause the silver bracelet on his wrist to slip down the length of his arm. It jolts something in you. Jeongguk had given you a matching one but you’d ripped it off after the last argument and hadn’t considered putting it back on. But Jeongguk was still wearing his. 

“Do you really?”

“What?” He’s staring at you know, doe eyes cloudy.

“Do you really love me?” There, that stupid evil vile question that you thought you had the answer to but the words vanish in your head the longer he looks at you.

“I do–what? What are you implying? Of course, I do.”

“Of course, you do,” Jeongguk echoes. His eyes turn to the window located over his shoulder. You can see his head working through something, and you’re suddenly terrified fingertips itching to wander through his curls and coax those thoughts from his head. 

“Jeongguk? What the hell are you talking about? Talk to me, please.”

He sighs again, at it feels like your heart splinters. A sudden shake of his head and Jeongguk twists back to face you, a silent tear falling down his cheek.

“You don’t love me.”

“Wh–What are you talking about? I do! And how can you decide my feelings for me?”

“No. You don’t love me the way you think you do–the way you should.” It feels like he’s saying it to more than you, like he’s saying it to himself. “Maybe this the wrong choice to make. You know. Maybe we shouldn’t have done this.”

You shatter just like that, shards on the floor as you stare him, this person that you thought you knew. And maybe the feeling is mutual because Jeongguk is staring at you in a similar way, searching for the courage to say the words you know lie in his heart. Like a loaded cannon, waiting for the match to strike and leave you lying in pieces. 

“I think we should break–"

“No,” you cut him off with an adamance that you didn’t know existed until right then. “No, you’re not gonna say that and we are not doing this.”

His eyes narrow then, jaw set. “This is not about ‘us’, I’m doing what’s right for me.”

“How is that right? Huh, Jeongguk? Don’t you care about this? Don’t you care about me?”

He looks away then, ignoring your questions, his throat stuck. 

“Jeongguk...” You reach out again, and he allows it, shoulders sinking with the weight of your hand on them. “Don’t you care about me?”

Another heavy exhale, his eyes blinking hard. “I do. And that’s why this won’t work, not the way it should at least. I really think we should end this, or at least reconsider the reasons why we’re together. You say you love me–you say you always have but really–really think about it. About me and us and what we are. I’m sorry, I really am but I just can’t do this anymore.”

He rises then, your outstretched hand tumbling down to the empty space he’d left behind. You can’t move it, can’t breathe, your heart hurtling out of your chest and onto the ground where it lies, fragmented beyond repair and bleeding bare. You glance up through tears, watch him open his mouth and then it and look away. 

“Do you mean it?” You finally ask, and his eyes snap to you. He knows what you’re saying. There’s a pause that stretches out for eternity, coloured by the sound of the ringing in your head.

“Maybe.” It cuts right through you, lodging itself deep with intent. And then you just have to nod, swallow the scream clawing at your throat. He murmurs one more apology before his feet carry him away, and you watch, forlorn as you burn his frame into your memory, as your whole world walks out the door.

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #au: jock!jaykay #i really abused the hyphen in this but oh well

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you @eldritch-and-tired for commissioning this lil’ /Reader piece of @megalommi‘s Sans, Baggs. I will ALWAYS be a simp for this sexyman. Enjoy!!

Tw: injections, unwilling hypnosis/mind control

...

You giggled.

The light was so pretty. Swirling, undulating, cyan and magenta warping and shifting in and out of one another in an endless hypnotising rhythm. It made you think of a funfair... spirals everywhere, from the tops of the stalls to the decorations on the rides, to the signs leading you around to those huge lollipops that tasted tooth-meltingly sweet. Happy memories, carefree, far away and non-solid but still wonderful. What were you doing? You couldn’t remember anything. You liked blue and purple, they were everywhere, all around you, such pretty colours. 

Pretty, pretty...

“... there we go. easy now.”

... You didn’t realise he was even there until he (somewhat cautiously?) spoke. Your senses were just colours. The voice was odd and a bit disembodied at first but slowly, slowly, you became aware of its source- a face hovering just over you. The awareness spread to your body, too... you were bent at an odd angle with your feet just barely lifted off the floor, your back flat on a rather uncomfortable table, gravity pulling your hair and cheeks. And he... he was just a few inches over you, pinning you by one of your wrists.

...

A tight and tense, cutting smile, clear signs of stress around his face and shoulders making it obvious that this was the smile of a man on the edge and not one of any particular joy. Deep sockets, so wide they looked borderline painful, glaring down at you with so much intensity...

... You could feel his body heat. And his breath against your face. Your heartbeat, your slightly itchy nose, how tight he was holding your wrist.

“... Mh... Huh?” You said, ever-so articulately, vision spinning in the same direction as the swirls emanating from his left socket. A similar way to how the world rocked when you were dizzy... except for you, it never righted itself. It just kept spinning and spinning and spinning. Everything was so bright, as you fell under a pleasant fuzzy sensation burrowed into your chest and mind, blanketing your thoughts as if you were just in the middle of a nice dream where nothing much mattered.

“shh...” 

When he gently closed his gloved fingers around something you had gripped in your pinned hand, you put up no fuss, loosening your hold and allowing him to take it... when did you pick up a scalpel? What an odd thing to have. The back of your head hurt and your knuckles felt the telltale aches of having been tense a few moments ago, even though they were now just an unwound coil like the rest of you.

... Dr. Baggs let out a long slow, breath. You could feel it against your nose and neck, he was that close... his mouth open barely a crack, the magenta hue of his tongue glinting against his fangs. 

“... alright.” He said, voice silky, gentle on your thrumming ears and head, sockets easing around the edges as he calmed down. The bluish shadows of sleep deprivation under them became more apparent as the tension in the room, face and posture waned. “that’s better.”

... Yeah. You thought, relaxed and calm. It is.

... He gave you the bare minimum of personal space, leaning back and helping you to sit, lifting you with the perfect combination of gentle but firm as if he knew you’d immediately feel so dizzy when you became upright. Your hands moved up and held onto his shoulders to steady yourself- the fabric of his lab coat was surprisingly soft, it was very nice to touch. 

... He was so close. Supportive but strict hands on your elbows, your knees on either side of him, he smelled like... the artificial flavouring they added candy that just wasn’t quite natural. And a specific, scented brand of antiseptic; clean and sterile and prepared.

“... well.” He hummed, reaching out of sight for something with one hand. Your forehead would bump his collarbone if you leant forward any more. His voice was so soothing and calming, especially since you were only a few inches from his clavicle... you were getting pretty close to shutting your eyes at this point, but a prick in your arm kept you from completely nodding off- you barely noticed it, too busy studying the aesthetically pleasing purple trim to his coat and enjoying the funny fuzzy sensation in your chest and temples. Oh, he suddenly had a full syringe in his hand that he was putting a cap on... where did he get that? 

“i knew from the start you’d be uncooperative, but... not that kind of uncooperative.”

He held something up to your face. You opened your mouth, (wait, why am I opening my mouth...) and he quickly placed it on your tongue. You swallowed, again, without knowing why... it was like your body was following a list of instructions that you couldn’t see or hear. Someone else had taken the wheel; tugging the right strings to make the right parts of you move when they were needed. 

... You didn’t think about it much. No panic, no confusion, no considering the implications. The thoughts were disconnected... just ships in the night, sailing by your muffled brain. All you could really think about was how whatever he’d given you was very strange and bitter and ew, you cringed, an odd acrid taste lingering in the back of your throat.

... Another prick in your arm. That’s weird, he keeps pricking me. Oh well. This time, you looked just in time to see him removing a now-empty syringe; he wiped where he’d poked your forearm with something very cold, then placed a little circular red band-aid over it.

...

There were six other band-aids on that forearm. Two green, three navy, one black... and now the red one.

Hm... I feel like I should be alarmed by that...

Again, all you could think about was how nice you felt right now. Dizzy, warm, safe. Like you’d had a little too much to drink, but now you were laying out in the sun with your friends... I miss the sun...

“most of my ‘patients’ are at least... consistent.” Baggs hummed, continuining to hold you carefully by the elbows, predicting your post-jab swaying. He didn’t seem to realise he was talking aloud, just a scientist observing his experiment, and you weren’t really paying enough attention to what he was actually saying- too many words to process, boooring. “uncooperative awake, uncooperative under. you’re always displaying aggression toward me... and yet as soon as you have no control, there’s an obediency so immediate it’s borderline subconscious. rather fascinating.”

Instead, you...

“... Sexy voice.”

...

...

“... what?” 

Apparently, that was enough to finally break him out of his thoughts. You glanced up at Baggs’ face, still only a few inches away, you kept forgetting where things were around you... the cushion around your soul never wavered but for a moment there was a little blip in the swirls. A slight interruption.

“Mmmhm.”

...

... His expression sort of... well, ‘melted’ was the wrong word. It was more akin to the sun peeking out from between two clouds. The detached, observational, scientific air to him thinned and began to evaporate... revealing something a little more warm.

The razor and unfriendly edges of his smile were rounding into something organic. Perhaps even, daresay, resembling forward. 

“my.” He purred. “how forward of you.”

“S’very nice. Very smooth...” Your tongue felt... eh. And your arm, where he’d poked you, was starting to itch. “And you have a nice face too... handsome man. I think so.”

...

His smile started growing even more, and he leaned back an inch or two as if to look at all of you and make sure you were really the same person he’d brought into this examination room less than an hour ago. “... oh really?”

“Yeah...” ... Your hands had been just holding onto his coat... but, spurred on by your sudden drunken confidence, you properly looped them around his neck.

... He blinked, but he only let himself appear taken aback for a moment or two. Despite how ominously his magenta eyelights glowed in his dark, shadowed sockets... you could tell he was enjoying himself, and this sudden turn of events. “i’m flattered.”

You laid your head on his chest. It was getting kinda hard to stay upright. 

... Your nose scrunched.

“Funky smell, though.”

That was enough to get an actual laugh out of him- albeit shortlived, his skull cocking like a curious mirthful bird. “are you... genuinely telling me that i smell, darling?”

“Yeah. Because it’s true. You’re gremlin.”

 “i’m... gremlin?”

“Mhm.”

“stars. i wish i could tell pap about this.”

Your body shifted, enough to make you lightly squeak- things were spinning so much that it took you a minute to realise Baggs had picked you up, an arm hooked under your legs and another around your back.

“you’re all done for the day, pet.” His eyelights had become a thrumming, almost amethyst colour as he looked at you, a far gentler shade of purple than his previous headache-inducing magenta. You weren’t sure what’d caused that but you weren’t complaining. You weren’t sure what’d caused him to carry you either, considering he usually just brought someone to collect his ‘patients’ for him... but, again, not complaining. “it’s time to get back to your room.”

“I feel funny.” You mumbled.

“that’s normal.”

He started walking. The halls all looked the same, as he moved through them, blending into one another... white and sterile, a few doors dotted inbetween if you were lucky but mostly just the exact same tiles and patterns and lack of anything that would clue you into the fact that people had actually (at some point) existed in this area. 

“Hm... is this where you work...?”

A little chuckle. He was sounding further and further away. “yes. this is my job, dear.”

“It’s so g... ug-ly.”

“oh? you think so?” Baggs’ tone had become... light? Perhaps a little teasing. 

“Jus... put up some nice posters, or something.” Your head was so heavy. Since when was it this heavy? You had to rest it against his chest, feeling that nice fabric against your cheek, hearing an equally nice humming sound from inside his ribcage. “Paint the walls. It’s so... white. Clini... ...clinicic... Calic...” 

“clinical?”

“... Yeah.Tthat.”

A gloved phalange touched your arm. It was probably an attempt at a comforting gesture- stroking the skin. “good to know. i’ll make sure to pass that eloquent advice along to the decorating team.”

“Good.”

He brought you to a cell-like room. It was... vaguely familiar? A bed with one pillow, thin white sheets... some strange posters and a window with bars over it. You felt like you’d spent a long time in there, but it was impossible to think straight enough to actually muster up any memories.

Baggs laid you down on the bed, slowly, handling you like you’d fall apart at any moment. You made a little noise- it wasn’t a very soft bed... but it was good enough. And your body felt so strange and tired that any soft surface honestly was nice enough to lay down on forever.

“comfy?” He asked. Since when did he inquire if you were comfy?

“M... no. S’whatever.”

...

You peeked at him, crouched by your bed... and you reached out, pressing your inexplicably heavy finger against the top of his nasal cavity in a booping motion. You mumbled a little victorious “Silly skeleton.” 

...

He took your hand in his gloved one, gently, before it could go limp and flop down. You couldn’t really make out his expression at this point.

“don’t tell the other subjects...” He murmured... he sounded amused, at least. “but i think you’ve become my favourite.”

“Course.” You shut your eyes. “I’m... m’amazing.”

“... yes. course.” 

A feeling, like a kiss on your hand, before he placed it by your side.

“... go to sleep.”

...

And just like that, your body obeyed him before your head could even process what he’d said, and you were asleep.

#commissions #megalosomnia #baggs sans #not my sans #but damn #i wish i was his [pensive emoji] #i fuckin LOVE writing hypnosis if you couldnt tell hfsdkjf

[patchofsunlight]

Hands | Bakugou Katsuki x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Bakugou learned from a young age to keep his hands to himself, even when his entire body longed for touch and his eyes filled with tears at the loss of a comforting habit.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

WARNINGS: hurt/comfort, angst, touch starved bakugou!!, kind of a character study? i think about him a lot, one kiss, cursing, consensual hand holding (PFFFT), mitsuki fucking sucks but what’s new

I hope you like this!! please remember feedback is always appreciated and all that. thank you for reading!! sorry if it sucks LMAO I DID MY BEST AND I KINDA LIKE IT

When he was a child, before he even cared about quirks or rankings or strength, Bakugou Katsuki loved holding hands.

No one knew exactly why, but that was just something he liked. He would hold Izuku’s hand while they talked and ran around the neighborhood, he would take his teacher's hand in his ever so softly whenever he walked over to their desk to ask a question. Katsuki would latch onto his dad with the most loving, tiny grip he could muster, and he would even interlace pinkies with his mom when she was having a good day and didn’t deem his manners “too soft”,  “too weak”, “too foolish”. Those were nice days in the Bakugou household.

Bakugou Katsuki was five years old when he had his heart broken for the first time. It was a few weeks after his quirk manifested and he was just so excited to play hero (with a quirk, this time!) alongside his friends after school that he didn’t even hesitate before grabbing Izuku’s hand exactly like he always did, jumping up and down with energy and happiness, rambling about how he was gonna be the number one hero one day — until Izuku screamed, pulling his hand away with a painful expression. Katsuki furrowed his eyebrows, confused at his best friend’s antics, and then he saw it: the raw, burned flesh of his palm.

Katsuki had hurt his best friend.

It’s very easy to fix objects, his dad used to tell him while stitching up one of his ripped shirts, you just get a bit of glue or yarn and you put it back together, a smile graced his lips at the feeling of his son taking his hand immediately after he let go of the sewing needle, but people are a lot harder to patch up, Katsu. People can’t be fixed, sometimes.

He wasn’t exactly sure of when he started shoving his hands inside his pockets, when he started opening doors with his feet and touching people with his shoulders to get their attention. It took him a while to understand that that first occasion wasn’t an accident, and that controlling his quirk when he got too excited or just overly happy was too hard and the security he got from all those tender touches he so eagerly searched from everyone in his life wasn’t worth the risk. The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

He told himself it didn’t matter. You’d have to overgrow that over time, anyway, his mom reminded him at some point. Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

It was easy to pretend he didn’t miss it. After a few years, the lack of touch was simply another part of his life he consciously chose to ignore, another longing he conditioned himself not to think about. It wasn’t like many people noted his abrupt change in behavior either — there were other things about him that were much more worthy of attention than that, like his killer quirk and quick brain, like his determination and ambition. Who cared about the fact that little Bakugou Katsuki didn’t want to hold hands anymore? Who cared about the fact that little touchy and clingy Bakugou Katsuki now barely touched others? 

Such childish, silly bullshit. Only softies hold hands, Katsuki, and we both know you’re not a softie.

He met her during his second year at UA. Y/N was mostly quiet, but still friendly and hardworking, fighting hard for her place as the number one student in Class 2-B. A project involving the two classes put them as partners, and project meetings soon became sparring sessions that turned into study group that led to study dates and then real dates and, by the beginning of his senior year, Katsuki had gotten himself a girlfriend.

He wasn’t certain if she noticed the way he purposely kept his hands out of reach when they walked side by side, or if she ever saw how he always made sure his palms were pointing away from her skin whenever they hugged or cuddled. He didn’t think anyone would ever pay enough attention to him to the point of perceiving his hesitancy. It didn’t matter that Bakugou had gained complete control of his quirk, it didn’t matter that he still felt his skin and his hands tingling with the urge, the craving for touch — the satisfaction wasn’t worth the risk, not the stupid satisfaction he didn’t even need. Such childish, silly bullshit. Bakugou Katsuki was doing very well with letting go of old customs, no doubt.

But Y/N noticed. God, of course she did — she noticed all the longing gazes, all the small flinches. She noticed how he never let his hands touch hers and at first it made her worried. Didn’t he want to touch her? Had she done something wrong? Her boyfriend wasn’t the best at communicating his feelings, even though he had been putting in the effort to talk to her whenever he felt a bit under the weather or bothered. 

However, this seemed like a bigger problem, like something he would never speak of unless she brought it up. It seemed deeper.

“Katsu?”

He lifted his scarlet eyes from the book in his hands and turned them to her sitting figure. They were both on his bed, despite curfew starting in less than an hour and the knowledge they shouldn’t be alone in his dorm. To be honest, Aizawa was quite used to watching the Class B girl sneak out of his student’s room every other night, wearing one of his many hoodies and those shorts that she always left in his closet. As long as they weren’t causing him any trouble, Eraserhead didn’t cause them any trouble, either.

“Yeah?” his voice was clearly tired after a day full of training and studying, a hint of sleepiness dripping from his tone.

“How come you never let me hold your hand?”

Katsuki froze on the spot, feeling his heart pick up its pace until it was beating so loud he could hear it by his ear, throbbing. He gulped harshly, sweat immediately gathering up on his hands from his own anxiety. She had noticed?

“What do you mean?” he tried to laugh calmly, but his chuckle sounded forced and nervous. He put the book away.

“You never let me hold your hand,” Y/N’s cheeks were tinted red with shyness. She had been pondering on how to talk to him about this for days now, yet seeing him so flustered made her surprisingly tense. “You avoid touching me with your hands in general, actually,” her chuckle sounded as forced and nervous as his, “is… Is there something wrong? Would you feel better if I stopped touching you so much? Does it make you uncomfortable? Because I really don’t want to make you uncomfortable, Katsu. You can talk to me about things like that, you know it.”

He couldn’t get himself to answer, unable to move or truly process her words. He really thought he had been slick, huh? He really thought she’d never notice, he really thought she’d never care. How would she feel if he told her he was afraid to hurt her, that he was afraid he would lose control of his quirk and burn her somehow, like he had done with Izuku all those years ago? Would she think he was childish and silly, too? Such childish, silly bullshit, Bakugou Katsuki scared of holding hands with his girlfriend, scared of touching her and holding her like she deserved to because what if it went wrong? What if he fucked it up? The best thing Katsuki could do, for himself and for others, was to keep his hands to himself, even if they felt cold and empty and his big red eyes filled with tears at the loss of such a comforting habit.

People are a lot harder to patch up, his father told him. He didn’t want to be guilty of screwing this up, didn’t want to destroy the relationship he cherished so, so much. Would she think he was weak for being this reluctant? Would she laugh at his stupid antics and tell him to grow up and stop being such a softie? Would she get mad? Should he even tell her?

“Katsu?” her soft voice relaxed his muscles like it habitually did, and he sighed deeply before meeting her worried eyes. “Talk to me?”

Y/N had always had this amazing talent of making him feel at ease. Ever since they met, so many months ago, she had this blinding quality that urged him to be quieter, calmer, less defensive. She didn’t even have to try tearing down his walls — they simply melted away when she smiled at him for the first time. He had never really talked about this issue with anyone else before, and he didn’t know how to even start, but Y/N made him want to try. Still, the words felt heavy on his tongue.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he muttered so quietly that she leaned in to hear him, furrowing her eyebrows in disagreement.

“Come on, Katsu. Please?”

He inhaled deeply. She stared patiently, waiting for him to organize his own thoughts enough to explain the thousands of things running through his mind. When his eyes met hers again, he felt warm all over. Katsuki loved the way she looked at him — there was no fear, no ulterior interest, no nonsensical admiration. She looked at him and she saw… Katsuki. Just that. And, strangely, that seemed enough.

The boy averted his eyes from hers. “I don’t want to hurt you with my quirk.”

Oh. Oh? That, well, that was definitely unexpected. The crease in Y/N’s eyebrows deepened. 

“Why would you ever hurt me, Katsuki?”

The future hero lifted his head to look at her instantly, confusion swimming in his red gaze as he answered, “I mean by accident, Y/N. I—,” he almost stopped himself right there, yet her expression caused him to continue, “I really liked holding hands when I was younger, you know? With my friends, teachers, family, and all that,” his ears were bright pink with embarrassment that subsided when she smiled softly at the new information, “it made me feel safe or whatever. Then I—then I got my quirk and, sometimes, when I held hands with people it just—,” he exhaled heavily before letting out a sad, defeated laugh, “I have burned a nasty amount of people. I don’t want to do that with you, too. I’d never want to hurt you.”

Katsuki was hardly a vulnerable person. He tried to be, yes, because he wanted this to work and for it to work he had to meet her halfway somehow during certain moments, but it was so, so difficult. It was so difficult for him to open up and talk about one of his biggest insecurities of all time, about one of the things he most craved for. He didn’t want to scare her away.

“Katsuki.” Her tone was serious and she stared at him with such intensity that he lost the ability to breathe for a second. “I understand where you’re coming from, but that’s bullshit.”

Bakugou blinked. “What?”

“You’d never hurt me, okay? I know you wouldn’t. I trust you, Katsu, so much. I’m sorry I didn’t ask you about this before,” she bit her lip thoughtfully while he could only stand there, dumbfounded with her reaction. 

Out of all his imagined worst-case scenarios, this was a surprise. 

“Katsu,” the girl called to him again, smiling lovingly in that way that made his world spin in its axis when they first met, “do you trust me too?”

“Of course I do,” there was no hesitation this time. Of course he did.

“Can I touch your hands?”

Once again, he froze on the spot. She looked at him expectantly.

People are a lot harder to patch up. She was trying, though. She was really trying to fix the ripped pieces of himself he tried to bury under anger and seclusion, pretending there was nothing wrong and that this was just how things were supposed to be. 

Bakugou looked down at his own hands, studying them carefully. With a last shaky exhale, he nodded.

She took his hands in hers, letting her fingers interlace with his cautiously so as to not startle him. Her thumb caressed his palm ever so softly and he fought the instinctive flinch that threatened to push her away. After years without it, this type of touch felt too intimate, too close, too new.

He liked it. 

He smiled.

“See? Nothing to worry about.” Y/N smiled back, grinning when he took it upon himself to squeeze her hand in appreciation. “You’re fine, Katsuki. I like holding your hand.”

His smile grew wider and he leaned in to kiss her, living for the feeling of her fingers squeezing his while their lips moved slowly. They had kissed a million times before, yet this felt different. If given the chance, Katsuki probably wouldn’t mind being stuck in that moment forever, with her lips on his and his hands on hers — Y/N had melted away all his walls and defenses from the start, and he was incredibly glad. He was incredibly glad for her.

His heart was beating fast inside his chest, especially when she pulled one of his hands up slightly to let it cup her face. A shiver went down his spine as he felt the curve of her jaw under his fingertips, the softness of her skin touching his. When there was not any air left in their lungs, they parted from each other. She turned her face to kiss his palm affectionately and his entire face seemed to burst with love and gratitude.

“I like holding your hand, too.”

She giggled, and, for the first time, Bakugou felt like it’d be alright if he decided not to keep his hands to himself. Such childish, silly bullshit, waiting around when he could’ve been holding hands this whole time.

A/N: so that was it!!! i hope you liked it!!! hehe hello

taglists

all: @kiedhara @wingeddemonclub @thedemigodsarealivebitch @ray-ofmoonlight​

also tagging @tsuhika bc i am: a fan and you gave us permission to tag you in shit SOO KJSFBIUEFB LMAO SORRY

#bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #bnha x reader #bnha #mha #mha x reader

[jugandbettsdetectiveagency]

please tell me you're writing something for this episode

(bc @heartunsettledsoul told me her headcanon and i said more angst 😈)

Nancy, his first instinct says. Call Nancy.

Because he’s got a problem and that’s what Nancy does—she solves his problems. She makes things better.

Ace’s hands are hovering, fingers curled inwards, just below his sternum. They feel empty and weighted all at once. Full of things he couldn’t say fast enough. Stunned, and speechless, and… barely even surprised.

It’s been a long time since he heard his dad yell.

The double chirp of a departing siren knocks him back to earth. His stomach doesn’t stop and falls to his feet, an acidic warmth churning in its depths. There’s a click in his jaw when he closes his mouth, his tongue thick and dry like it’s coated in dust.

Nancy’s busy. She’s got her own stuff going on.

However true he knows that to be, it’s not enough to stop his hand from pulling his phone out of his pocket.

There’s a moment's hesitation as his thumb hovers over her name.

Out of all the things Nancy has given him over the time he’s come to know her, a sense of belonging is by far the strongest. Somewhere to come back to when everything else felt adrift.

The phone rings, repetitive and continuous, in his ear.

Ace paces a tight square outside the library doors. If he stops he’ll hang up, or panic, or realise that his limbs aren’t really attached to his body anymore, and he’s just a tangle of nerves and useless pieces that don’t fit back together right.

“This is Nancy, I can’t get to the phone right now but leave a message and I’ll return it when I can.”

His vision clouds with the fog of his exhale. He’ll just hang up. He won’t leave a message, won’t worry her just—

“Hey, Nancy,” he says, ducking his head against the cold bite of the evening air, like if he tucks himself inward no one can see him. “Just me.”

His next inhale stutters in his throat. “Not a big deal I’m just… I kinda thought it would be best if I… If after everything that’s gone down with, um…” He doesn’t know why he’s trying to lie to her. She’ll see right through him in an instant. “My dad has told me to find somewhere else to live for a while. It’s okay,” he says, even though it isn’t, just because he needs Nancy to think it is, “but I’m just at a bit of a loss, so. Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll… I’ll figure it out. Alright. Bye.”

He finds his way back to Ryan’s car eventually. He needs to return this. He needs to return it when Carson isn’t home, either.

For a fleeting second, the length of a blink, Ace imagines it.

Pulling into the driveway at the Drew house. Pushing open the door without knocking. Settling into the couch cushions like he’s a fixture, warm, and wanted.

His phone vibrates against his thigh.

Call Nick. I’ll be there as soon as I can.

His breath shakes.

Because Nancy fixes things. Because Nancy made him belong.

#nancy drew #nace #nancy drew fanfiction #nace fanfiction #nancy x ace #writing #replies #anon #this ask made me smile