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#stop it from being upsetting. she’s a little girl
luveline · 3 days
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I love your KBD universe, I know that Beth is having a hard time with being the weird kid and I just have to say as a lover of weird things and people I would love to see something where Bethie comes home from school happy to have met someone who LOVES that she’s a little weird!
dad!steve and his weird girls <3 mom!reader, 1k
When you get home from work with the big kids in tow, Steve’s gonna kiss you stupid. With baby Wren gurgling on his tummy and less-baby Dove sitting by his head where he lays on the couch, he’s never been this happy. He’ll be happier when the big girls are home, but for now, he’s snug as a bug, treated by his second youngest to a buffet of affection. 
“Love you,” Dove says, kissing his cheek for the tenth time in the last two minutes. He can’t stop laughing.
“I love you, too!” he says, shifting his hand to give Wren some more room. 
“Love you, dad,” Dove says.
“I know, baby, I know. Thank you for the kisses, you’re so nice.” 
Dove kisses him again. “You’re happy,” she says. 
“So happy. Can I get another kiss, you think?” 
He turns into her. She’s sitting too high to be cuddled; all Steve can do is take in her sweetness. He can’t believe how quickly her babyhood has passed into toddlerhood, and she’s been sort of a nightmare, but she’s also his little girl. She’s your daughter, her sisters’ sister. She was always going to be lovely, and Steve feels it like a loving punch as she noses at his ear. “Daddy,” she laughs, “you’re too warm.” 
“I’m blushing, babe, I’m getting all these nice kisses!” He laughs like an idiot and decides he must hug her, pulling his arm up and scooping her into his chest. 
She groans in annoyance before she realises what he’s doing, “Hug!” she says excitedly. 
“Hug!” he echoes, wrapping his arm around her. She’s starting to look less like a baby and more like a little tiny kid, which he hates and loves at the same time. “Aw, I love you, Dovey.” 
The door clatters open. Wren jumps at the sound, hiding her face in Steve’s neck, to which he gives a good back rubbing. “It’s okay, bubby, it’s just your mommy. Don’t be silly, huh? Just mommy. You’re gonna be happy when she turns the corner.” 
“Shoes,” you’re saying from the door, though Steve can’t see you, he can tell you’re smiling. “Shoes, Beth, then you can tell dad.” 
“Daddy, we’re home!” Avery shouts. 
“I can hear you, babe!” he shouts back, not unkindly. 
“Dad, I have something to tell you!” Beth shouts. 
Steve hoists himself up into a sitting position, two babies in his arms, knowing you’ll know he’s laid down all day from the mess of his hair alone but not trying to hide it. You can do whatever you want on your vacation days, you’d teased. Just make sure you feed the kids.
“Hi,” you say, appearing in the doorway, two balls of energy at your legs that bolt for Steve the second they see him. 
“Girls, I don’t have long enough arms,” he says, trying to cuddle them all, even though it’s impossible. 
He finds himself suddenly relieved of the second youngest. Dove might love her father, but she adores her mother, and she hasn’t seen you all day —she slinks down out of his hold and through the mess of her sisters to grab at you, to which you gratefully receive her, pulling her up to station on your hip. “Hi, gorgeous,” Steve hears you say. Avery pushes him back, climbing into his lap with a happy sigh. “Miss me today? I missed you,” you ask sweetly. 
“What did you want to tell me, Beth?” Steve asks curiously, grinning as Avery makes herself comfortable on his thigh, her arm wrapping behind his neck. He’s happy to see everybody else so happy, even if it’s hectic. 
Beth beams up at him with her brightest smile in weeks. She’s been having such a hard time at school, Steve wondered if he could start homeschooling, coming home upset nearly every other day. It isn’t fair. His relief that she’s had a good day is palpable. 
“Dad, there’s a new girl! Her name is Francesca and she’s got the same birthday as me and guess what!” 
“What?” he asks. 
“She said she likes being weird!” Beth’s eyes glow shiny with joy. “Cos Hilly called me weird, and she said she likes being weird. She said we can be best friends.” Beth hits his knee in her excitement. “She liked me, dad.” 
“Why wouldn’t she like you?” he asks, wondering how old he’ll have to be before he stops tearing up at Beth’s good heart. He blinks quickly to dispel any tears before they can gather. “Her name is Francesca? When did she move? Do you think she wants to come for dinner?” 
Your laugh is a snort. “Steve.” 
“What? Friends come for dinner. Best friends! Did you speak to her mom?” he asks you. 
“I didn’t see her.” 
“Don’t worry, Beth, I’ll speak to her in the morning. We’ll see if they want to come for dinner or go swimming or something.” 
Beth’s smile gets wider, “Really?” 
“Yeah, really!” He gives Avery a little shake. “Did you meet Francesca?” 
Avery nods. “She’s pale and she has big hair. Curly hair, too.” Her voice is a tad scratched, perhaps from the cold out. 
Steve lets his weight fall into the arm, cautious not to squish your baby, a grin on his face to rival Beth’s. She gets the memo and climbs up, claiming that last bit of space under the baby to hug his stomach. He tries to wrap them all up, gurgly Wren, exuberant Beth, and poor cold Avery. “You coming?” he asks you. 
There’s dinner to make. You ignore it, crossing the mess of the living room to flop down on the couch next to them all. Steve lifts his face in that way you always recognise, and is pleased as punch when you peck him quickly. 
You don’t realise how Steve thinks of you, he’d say. Don’t realise he wants another kiss, then another, that you’re on his mind when you aren’t there, and dominate it when you are. He loves his babies, but he loves you too. He wants another kiss. 
“Steve,” you scold lightly, surprised as he presses two kisses to the corner of your mouth. 
“Sorry. Beth, tell me more about Francesca. What did she say exactly?” 
Beth takes a deep breath. 
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Aunt!Yelena x niece!reader headcanons
masterlist
a/n: here’s the second one !! writing auntie Yelena has to be one of my favourite things ever :))
You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work
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Auntie Yelena who was more than ecstatic to meet you when she first heard about you. She was totally overjoyed when she found out that Natasha was adopting a baby girl
Auntie Yelena who spoiled you with gifts ever since you were a baby. Natasha had once tried telling her to stop because her house simply couldn’t take much more stuff, but after she saw the joy it brought Yelena she had given up trying to stop her
Auntie Yelena who always stole you out of Natasha’s arms when she came over. She always wanted to hold you. After Natasha would put you down for a nap Yelena would sneak into your room and hold you while you slept. Natasha caught her once but decided not to say anything. She adored watching her sister love her daughter so much
Auntie Yelena who took you with her when she went to adopt a dog at the shelter. She valued your opinion more than anyone else's
Auntie Yelena who, when she came over, always brought you a gift from whatever place she had been to then. She was always travelling, and her favourite thing was bringing something with her for you
Auntie Yelena who ‘accidentally’ taught you multiple curse words, enjoying Natasha’s face when you blurted one out. Obviously you didn’t know what they meant. All you knew was that your auntie Yelena would laugh when you said ‘fuck,’ and you took great pride in being able to make your auntie ‘Lena laugh
Auntie Yelena who, when you got older, would take you on little road trips around the city. She would simply show up in front of the house and demand Natasha to lend you to her for a couple of hours 
Auntie Yelena who made the best hot chocolates for you when you felt down, and who would make the best mac and cheese when you were sad
Auntie Yelena who didn’t hesitate to drop anything and everything when you called her while upset, and who would fly or drive to you in a heartbeat if you needed her
Auntie Yelena who loved that you loved her so much. Ever since you were a baby you always wanted to sit in her lap and play with her, and when you grew up you still wanted to hang out with her whenever you could
Auntie Yelena who scolded Alexei when he made fun of you once, claiming he was fat and mean and had no right insulting you with whatever he insulted you with 
Auntie Yelena who broke your trust only once, and that was when she called Natasha while you were being bullied in school. Natasha had comforted you while Yelena went on a little house visit and nearly made the poor girl piss herself from fear
Auntie Yelena who was the sweetest person you had ever met, yet made people fear her with a simple glare 
Auntie Yelena who, despite your age, took you to build a bear when you turned 16. She helped you pick out a soft, adorable bear and when you got to the dressing bit she had basically forced you to give it a small black widow outfit
Auntie Yelena who always supported whatever hobby you started, making sure you had plenty of supplies in stock. If you ran out of something she would know before you did, making sure you were restocked before you started another project and missed something
Auntie Yelena who, in the end, loved you more than she loved herself
Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216
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meechlamajor · 19 hours
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Ice Brady nsfw and fluff hcs pls😭🙏🏾 not enough love for my girl frl frl
ICE BRADY AS YOUR GIRLFRIEND HEADCANONS — SFW AND NSFW
Warnings: suggestions of sex, “bullying,” fluff, idfk a happy couple???? that upsets people sometimes and i don’t understand, but hey!
Author’s Note: this request made me SO happy, you don’t even know, ice is so beautiful to me and so underrated.
SFW
— Your favorite thing to do is to catch Ice off guard just to mess with her, so I feel you’d probably walk by her and flick her forehead or something stupid.
— You keep her favorite snacks on hand. I’m talking about in your car, in your backpack, in your room (you probably have a mini fridge or something), literally anywhere you can keep them because she’ll ask. And it doesn’t bother you to do this, you do it in part because you want to.
— The both of you keep hair ties on your wrists for one another. It’s the thought of being considered that matters to her.
— You guys watch “Is It Cake” together. Every couple needs their show and this one is yours. Ice threatens here and there to watch it without you if you do something she doesn’t like.
— You share a stuffed animal from Build-A-Bear and it’s 100% your child. I feel like it’d come up on a live or something. Maybe you walk in on one of KK’s very interesting livestreams and you’re like “where’s the baby?” The comments would go nuts about this alleged baby.
— I don’t think PDA would be Ice’s thing, the most I could see her doing is some hand-holding and maybe a kiss on the forehead if you get lucky. I feel like she’s just private in that way.
Imagine you’re sitting in on a practice, catching up on homework while she and the team works. You’re typing away when Ice comes over for a water break, and you bother you.
“Hi, babe,” you smile up at her.
She smiles too, her eyes forming little crescent moons. She leans over quickly and kisses your forehead. “What’s this?” Ice motions to the computer resting on your lap.
“Assignment for Dr. Smith. I’m worn out,” you reply, putting your laptop on the vacant chair next to you.
She grabs your hands, pulling you up. “Take a break and join us then.”
— Ice doesn’t give me jealous vibes either, she knows that you’re hers and she’s yours imo.
Maybe someone comments on an Instagram post or approaches you in person, I don’t think Ice would care that much. She’s not insecure and I think she might even try her hardest not to laugh.
Imagine it’s a hot summer day and you guys decided to go get shaved ice.
You and Ice approach the stand, both getting whatever you want, but you both always end up sharing anyway.
“Someone’s looking at you,” Ice sings into your ear, poking your side.
You glance over, eyeing a group of guys at a table a few paces away. One of them is particularly starstruck by your beauty.
“Ew,” you roll your eyes. “Kiss me,” you beg.
Ice shakes her head, her blonde braids moving. “I don’t really want to spoil his fun.”
— I also feel like with her, you’d never stop laughing. Ice is genuinely so fucking funny you’d have abs after spending a few hours with her.
— Of course, you get her rebounds for her 🥰.
NSFW
— I feel like toys are a no 🌚… just no.
— Praise kink 1000%
— I feel like Ice definitely has the stamina, she could go multiple times if she really wanted to.
— She’s out like a light after doing the deed, though.
— I get sub vibes, don’t ask why, I just get the feeling.
— *clears throat* exhibitionist
— I think Ice would like hickies or open-mouthed kisses for sure. Foreplay for the win 🫶🏾 I think she might not even want to cover them up, but might do it anyway just so that people don’t say anything, you know?
— I think there are definitely some fantasies and things that you both would want to try. I think she’d be open to it as long as it’s not something that’s objectively weird… iykyk.
— HAIR PULLING 🙉
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Momoi Airi is a Trans Woman
This is headcanon at the end of the day and there's nothing wrong with disagreeing, but the way she's written regarding her sense of identity as an idol, the choice of phrasing they use when she talks about herself in reference to others (namely Shizuku), and the connections her visual motifs provide to concepts and other characters tied to or commonly seen as trans just makes it incredibly hard for me to view her otherwise.
A lot of what I have to say is very personal to me; I'm a trans woman myself, and Airi's writing and experiences connect with me and my own transition journey in a way I haven't really seen anywhere else in media (I'm not a very prolific media consumer). So it's entirely possible a lot of this is just me projecting onto a character I care a lot about. But while I've adored Airi before this revelation, I didn't reach the level of attachment I have for her until the realisation of just how well she's written through the lens of a trans girl. Specifically one who's, for the most part, entirely socially transitioned but keeping the fact she is trans secret.
When Airi was little, she was, as she herself describes, very boyish. She'd get into physical fights with boys around the neighbourhood or at school, she'd come home most days covered in dirt and mud from playing with her majority boy friend group of the time. She was intensely defensive of her little sister, most of her fights being with possibly bigger-than-her boys because they were mean to her sister. It formed a reputation for Airi, a reputation that followed her as she began to deviate from these patterns and pivot her interests and activities hard and fast thanks to starting to watch idols on TV. She was enamoured with them, would rewatch recordings of their performances and interviews over and over so she could emulate it and be more like them. She'd stop getting into fights, stop playing with her rougher friends; everything started changing dramatically thanks to her being introduced to a new "type" of woman: an idol. Something Airi wanted to become, and was willing to change everything about her to be.
These changes weren't socially easy for her, though, with backlash coming from these old friends and classmates because of how girly she was trying to become. The idea of being a tomboy was something Airi started to consider a bad thing, a gross thing. During her Colourful Festival side-story, To You Who Yearns To Be an Idol, amidst a conversation with her younger self Airi calls the little girl a tomboy, something that makes the younger Airi immediately deflate and shy away from the conversation. It upset her to be called that, especially by an idol, something she wants to become. Which leads to the younger Airi talking about how she's been treated by her peers for changing the way she dresses and not playing the same way she used to, for changing the way she talks, with her being talked to like she's doing something horrible and wrong for simply chasing a dream of who she wants to be. And in this conversation, Airi says a particular line that changed everything for me:
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This is said in response to Little Airi's repeating of what the boys in her class call her as she wears cuter, girly clothes. That she's some big, mean monster who shouldn't wear things like that, who could never become an idol. Effectively telling her that she could never be a girl because of the way she used to behave. She started as someone rough, someone harsh and dirty, that's not something she should—not something she could—change. Something we see in present day that she's largely internalised through her struggles with what it means to be an idol, her struggles with calling herself an idol.
For Airi, being an Idol and being a Girl have become synonymous with each other. Her ability to be an idol, to draw that attention, have a smile that sparkles on stage and in front of the camera, spread hope and joy to other people; this part of her identity has grown beyond her job, it's who she is as an individual. Being Momoi Airi, the second year Miyajo student, is inseparable from Momoi Airi, the ex-QT member and now member of MORE MORE JUMP! And if she can't be the image of an idol that exists in her head, that she's always viewed idols to be, that Haruka and Shizuku manage to embody, that Minori is becoming, then can Airi even really call herself as much of a person, of a woman, as them?
Airi's been in this constant uphill battle where she believes she doesn't sparkle as much as the other idols around her, so she puts more effort into learning how to make herself sparkle, but manages to convince herself that because she struggles with this, she's less of an idol than those very peers. It's in large part what Ice Drop is about, Airi's difficulty finding satisfaction with her work as an idol because it doesn't shape up to her own expectations and beliefs of what an idol "should be", because it doesn't match what she sees other idols she looks up to, like Shizuku, doing. Something also portrayed during Airi's conversation with Shizuku in Chasing the Radiance Beyond the Blue Sky, where she outright tells Shizuku that because she doesn't have the same physical appeal she has to fight harder and use different strategies to get any attention as an idol. And if Shizuku is the "perfect idol", and Airi will never be able to achieve that, can she even call herself an idol?
If she can't call herself an idol, does she even deserve to call herself a girl? Or are the harsh words of her grade school classmates right about whether she should be wearing the cutesy clothes?
A large part of Airi's struggle with this, why it's even a spiral in the first place, ties into her nature as a Solid Heart student as well as why I see so much of myself and my transfemme journey in Airi's story. It doesn't matter how many people tell you that you're enough and that you've done what you set out to do, not if every thought in your head is telling you they're wrong. According to everyone I know, I pass really well as a girl. My voice is naturally feminine, even without masking it very hard, I've basically never been misgendered since growing my hair out by strangers looking at me, I've even been told by close friends that they'll forget I'm trans because I'm just "one of the girls" to so many of them. And I appreciate all of it, so much; I'm very lucky to have had such a smooth social transition. But none of that changes who I see in the mirror, who I hear when I talk, what I feel when I wake up in the morning forced to acknowledge my body. I'll never be a "real girl", not until I fix these things, and it's entirely possible that it's impossible to truly get rid of this feeling.
That's what Airi feels regarding her identity as an idol. Everyone in the world could tell her how good an idol she is, how much hope she spread as Happy Everyday, how beautiful and bright her smile is. But that will never replace or fully mask the doubt in the back of her head about whether she's really an idol, because nothing that she used to do aligns with what she's always seen idols to be, so much of what she does today is so different from the reality of her dreams. She's not that idol, so is she even an idol at all? I'm not that girl, so am I even a girl at all? Obviously I am, and obviously she is, but it's a feeling of doubt that never goes away.
Airi needs to constantly be an idol, or she's not an idol at all. And, at least to me, this has come to mean to Airi that if she's not an idol, she's not a girl. Because all of the work she put into being cute and girly was to be an idol. If she can't accomplish that, does she even deserve to be a girl at all? Or is she just a fraud wearing a mask trying to make people laugh on TV?
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deerlottie · 3 days
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OKAY, SO, I DON'T THINK ANYONE HAS ASKED THIS BUT- HCS of proposing to the yjs? Like, would they propose or would reader propose. Also, how they would do it dhhshdhan
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lottie: FOR SUREEEE she would be the one proposing. i think she'd try sooo hard to be subtle, but you know in an instant because she's so fucking nervous 😭 also didn't hide the ring that well...it'd be on a trip to greece - idk the first thing that came to mind was a little sunset picnic by the beach near ur hotel, little makeout session which turns into her getting emotional and pulling out the ring. she'd go on a monologue for like 10 minutes about how lucky she is to have met you and be with you and wake up every day to kiss you :( I feel like she'd just love a quaint little wedding with all your guys' friends and some family. doesn't have to be huge but if that's something you want, shes more than happy to oblige.
jackie: YOU WOULD! her ass would be dropping hints that she's ready for marriage and would get SO excited when you make up the worst lie when you're going with shauna to go ring shopping LMFAO. you have to wait until she forgets about it because she's on edge Every Day. i think she'd LOVE the attention if you do it in public... telling her you wanna go on a simple walk and she starts to realize you're taking her to where you guys went on your first date :( proposing to her at the exact table you sat at too 😭😭 ohh she'd be a mess. it'd take her like 5 mins to stop crying and say yes.
shauna: she would!!!!! this is probably cliche and corny as hell but i can't stop thinking about her saying she bought you a book because it reminds her of you and when you open it, inside is a poem she wrote about how she feels about you :( she includes lines from her favorite books and at the end of poem is "please say yes." you're confused but she tells you to flip to the last page and there's a ring. she's holding her breath for what seems like forever until you say yes and shes so happy :(( tbh i can see her just wanting to get married secretly and the girls finding out about it when they see that huge ass ring she got you.
nat: you'd propose. but i could also see her being kind of upset she can't afford an actual ring for you so she gets you like a ring from one of those quarter machines or some shit 😖😭 but its soo sweeet. she actually pours her little heart out and maybe cries a little...(she'll kill u if u mention this to anyone) but as for you, a simple dinner proposal is just fine. doesn't even have to be fancy - it could be a pizza shop you two frequent a lot and she'd be content. you'd do it in such a cheesy (no pun intended) way tho 😭 "accidentally" dropping your fork and asking her to pick it up for you and when she's bent down, that's where you place the ring on her plate. she scoffs but she's so enamored >__< will also flaunt that ring like there's no tomorrow!!!!
taissa: she would :P she told you very early on in ur relationship that you shouldn't even THINK about proposing because she's gonna be the one to do it. im such a sucker for halloween/christmas themed proposals so im imagining her doing it with christmas lights and ur too busy staring at how pretty she looks to notice the letters spelling out something when you help her put them up. thinking of the word "you" not lighting up properly so it just spells out "will marry me?" and you're like HUH!!!!! but ofc you say yes, and she gets you the most jaw-droppingly gorgeous ring ever that matches with a necklace she bought for herself :(
van: they would!!!! im obsessed with the idea of them doing it in a movie theater 😭 using their connections to have it display "y/n, will you marry me?" during the end credits of a movie you went to go see. and you HATE staying for the credits, so it takes a Lot of begging from van to get you to sit ur ass back down. the lights turning into a warm red color and van's VIBRATING beside you with a huge grin on their face as their message pops up. Trust that the ring box would be themed to fit your guys' favorite movie like the little nerd they are.
misty: oh, she would...if it was acceptable, she would've proposed one week into your relationship. caligula would 100% be involved. when you arrive at misty's house, caligula is carrying a note in her beak telling you to meet misty at the park. you walk around with her for a while and feed the ducks with her until she takes you by this totally not suspicious guy who's playing romantic songs on his guitar, which definitely sounds like ur favorite song....she gets down on her knees dramatically before proposing 😭
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is it over now? (was it over then?)
part three
part four: say the one thing i've been wanting
Steve had been dreading actually talking about this with Robin. He hadn't wanted to put her in a position to feel like she had to come out or stop using him as a plus one to industry parties to fuel rumors. Even as he and Eddie pretty publicly dated Robin's agent and most tabloids still thought Robin and Steve were a couple some even going as far as insinuating Eddie was Steve's side piece or their third.
"Steve, you're kind of scaring me, what's going on?"
"Birdie, I'm only telling you this because I can't not anymore but I want you to know nothing is your fault and I literally don't need you to do anything. I just need to be able to talk to my best friend and in order to do that I kind of have to get through this uncomfortable part," Steve answered.
"Anything, Steve. Whatever you need," Robin said.
"Okay, so Eddie and I kind of broke up because Eddie assumed I was cheating on him with Nance when she came to visit earlier this year. He got really upset and kind of blocked me from any way of contacting him so there was no way to clear anything up after he left but he definitely assumed I was cheating on him and he wrote that fucking song and I just need to talk to you without leaving out this really huge massive reason why Eddie left and why I still feel like total shit," Steve rushed to cover the main points.
"Steve, hun," Nance comforted. She probably guessed something else was going on but had been understanding enough not to press Steve for more.
"Steve, I'm so sorry. This is all my fault," Robin started catastrophizing.
"Can you please stop saying my name. It's kind of freaking me out," Steve joked, "Robs, it's totally not your fault at all. It was a shitty situation I could have handled better and so could Eddie but there's really nothing to do about it know because I can't explain it to him and he clearly doesn't want me to so we are moving on, all right?" Steve attempted to keep the energy light.
"If that's what you want, sure babe," Robin said.
"I just want to stop going down Tik Tok rabbit holes of Eddie's stupid song without being able to complain to you about how fucking tired I am of not being able to do anything," Steve said, "and also I want so much ice cream and a really stupid TV marathon with my best girls and maybe roast Eddie's new song a little bit."
Nancy had already pulled up doordash and they were soon on their way to eating a smorgasbord of snacks and ice cream while watching reality TV and eventually dissolving into a karaoke session initially overdramatically singing along to Eddie's knew single and ending with some old school Taylor (her version of course). Steve was feeling better than he had in a long time and started getting out of the fog he'd been in since Eddie had left.
Eventually, Steve started answering his agent's emails again and submitting tape for different roles. He'd gotten a part in a small indie film in Italy and Steve was pretty ready to take it. It was an interesting part, it was literally away from everyone he knew, the director was kind of weird and didn't let his cast use socials while filming and encouraged only phone calls and old school letters to really get into the period mindset. It was honestly kind of a perfect next project and it helped that the script was actually kind of great.
"As long as you aren't going because you're running away, Steve. You know I don't want you to leave and you shouldn't feel like you have to," Robin said as he was starting to pack his bags.
"I really like the project. It's a good script and I get to get out of my own head for a while. Kind of perfect honestly. The shoot is pretty short its only like four weeks so I won't be gone that long and you and Nancy can keep holing up in my apartment without me getting in the way!" Steve answered.
"You're never in the way, dingus," Robin nudged him and then brought him into a hug, "we'll just miss you kiddo."
"I'll miss you too, Bobbie. Now let me go so I can pack." Steve pulled away with a bigger smile than he'd had in weeks.
@lololol-1234 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @zombiethingy (if you wanna be tagged in future parts feel free to comment! happy to add people)
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thenewausten · 3 days
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I don't know if you write stuff like this but I've been thinking about quackity and y/n being in high-school and y/n was embarrassed of q always showing her off after they started dating like a typical high-school sweethearts thing?:) it's sound so sweet to me
Thanks for the request!
Quackity HC's: My girlfriend, everyone!
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Alex was in love. He couldn't get enough from you. You were his first love, the girl he felt in love with was also in love with him... He was so proud of that, he was so proud of you.
Alex would give you his jacket everyday so you can use it and everyone at school would see that you're his. It was something so cute that, even the teachers would smile at the both of you across the hall. He'd always make you blush because he'd always lean in towards you to give you a peck on the lips.
He'd walk around the school with his hand intertwined on yours <3 Taking you to your class and kissing your soft lips with a smirk on his face. "See you, amor." He'd whisper. "See you, 'Lexie."
Showing you off to the employers!!!! "Hey, Jeff, do you know my girlfriend, Y/N?!" He'd ask to the security, making you laugh and blush at the same time. "Yeah, she's beautiful, right?!"
Making out with him at a hidden place>>> C'mon, he'd just grab one of your hands and take you to this place, putting your body against the wall and holding your face with a smile. "You're so perfect, amor." He'd whisper and lean in to give you a kiss, his tongue sliding to your mouth and his hands on your ass would make you crazy for him. "Am I disturbing the both of you?!" You'd hear the director's voice, Alex would look at him with a sarcastic smile on his wet and red lips. "A little."
Getting jealous when a friend of yours would come to talk to you!!!!@ Like, he'd put his hand on your waist, putting your body against his just to provoke and show you're his, your friend would roll his eyes and leave. "Alex, why???" You'd ask, upset with him. "What, amor?! I missed you." He'd kiss your lips and you'd roll your eyes and kiss him back.
School work presentation with him>>> He'd smile as you approach to speak your part of the work. "Now, let's hear Y/N. My girlfriend, everyone!" He'd say with a smirk on his face, making you blush, the teachers laugh and some girls roll their eyes.
"Alex, can you stop saying to everyone around the school that I'm your girlfriend?!" You'd ask some day, making your boyfriend stare at you, confused. "Why, amor?"
"It makes me shy." You say. "But it's so cute when you get shy, hermosa. I want everyone to know the incredible girlfriend I have, but if you don't want me to, I..."
"Well, forget about it, it's okay." You say and he smiles, kissing your lips. "I love you, Y/N. I'm so proud of you, and you're my happiness, baby." He says and you smile. "Aw, 'Lex, I love you so much, you're also my happiness." You kiss his face.
Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoy the writing! :)
Requests are open!
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miley1442111 · 3 days
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Hi my love!
I'm sorry if this is a bother, but I saw you were taking requests and I really wanted to see this one written and you do such amazing writing.
Please don't feel pressured into writing this tho
So, we all know Derek is like, 6'2" is, right, so the girls he talks to are shorter than him, but I was wondering if you could write something with a female reader where she is almost as tall as him, and decided to wear heels to something, like a party or a gala or something, and she feels insecure about being so tall and he's just swooning over her because look at his tall woman, his amazing tall woman who works as an FBI profiler and can literally kick anyone's ass and just look how cool his girlfriend is.
Like, if you wanted to you could write about how some guy made a comment and Derek literally had to be held back because he was full on ready to throw hands for the reader.
Bonus points of she's like really fit, like she definitely hits the gym and you can see it
Again, you don't have to write it if you don't want to/don't feel comfortable, I just thought it would be cute
OMG I love this idea, it's so freaking cute! I had so much fun with this and istg I'm so sick of y/n always being some small fragile little thing in fics, it drives me crazy!!!!
Thank you for requesting my dear ! :)
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my girl- d.morgan
a/n: intended for tall fem!reader but as per usual imagine what you like :)
summary: derek comforts you after something happens at the yearly award show
pairings: derek morgan x reader, (platonic) bau team x reader
warnings: insecurities, suggestive tones, crying, fluff :)
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You loved your body, seriously you did. It was your vessel, your home. You nourished it and took care of yourself. 
But sometimes you wanted to feel shorter. Being tall has its advantages, and yes, you knew you were more than conventionally attractive, but it didn’t stop the nagging feeling in the back of your head, telling you it was weird that when you wore heels, your boyfriend was looking up at you, not down. Derek was 6’2. You were 6’2 ½ with these heels on. You were taller, which was fine, but it played in your mind more than you had wanted it to for the entire night. 
Derek on the other hand? When he saw you in that perfect dress he didn’t think he’d have the willpower to actually stop himself from fucking you before the event. He felt so lucky. His beautiful, ass-kicking girlfriend was wearing a dress that he’d bought her and she looked fucking delicious. He knew you were gorgeous, especially when he was regularly graced with the image of you naked, but this was another level. On your latest mission you’d taken the unSub down on your own and he swore he’d never been more turned on. The way you just overpowered him, getting his knife off him and cuffing him. You were the most beautiful person in his eyes, you always would be.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
Walking into the gala, he couldn’t keep his hands to himself, gripping and pawing at you, kissing you constantly. Though, he could see something was wrong. Was this gala too much for you? Did you want to go home early? He wouldn’t have complained.  
“You alright baby?” He asked as another award was announced. 
“Fine,” you sighed, staring into your plate of food as you just moved the mashed potatoes around. 
“Baby,” He placed his hand on your thigh, grabbing your attention. “Talk to me.”
“It’s nothing.”
Derek frowned. You weren’t usually one for keeping things from him. “Baby-”
“I’m going to the bathroom,” you announced to the table, and stood up. You avoided Derek’s concerned eyes and he got up to follow you. 
“How’s the weather up there?” A drunk asshole asked you and he saw the way your face subtly contorted into upset, trying to hide tears. 
He saw red.  
His eyes darkened and his fists balled at his sides. “You wanna say that again?”
The drunk asshole sobered slightly after seeing the seriousness on Derek’s face. 
“Derek it’s fine-” you pleaded, wanting to sink into the floor. 
“No it’s fucking not. Say it again.”
David and Aaron got up from the table, stalking over before Derek swung at the guy. 
They were too late. 
“Derek!” You shouted as the other two pulled him off the man. Other tables were starting to stare and you felt perpetually worse. You should’ve just worn flats. 
“You can shut up next time, yeah?” Derek jeered at the bleeding man as Aaron and David held him back.
“Calm down,” Aaron ordered cooly, and Derek instantly pulled himself out of their arms,brushing them off. 
“I’m calm,” he said. He was not calm. No one got to insult his girl. 
“Can we just go home?” You whispered through shaky breaths. Derek’s attention was all on you.
“Of course we can.”
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
The drive home was silent, his hand on your thigh as you attempted to calm down. 
Derek was wracking his brain for why you’d been off all night but came up empty. 
What was wrong?
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You kicked off your shoes, practically running to the bathroom and locking it behind you. Derek sighed to himself as he set down the keys, deciding to grab himself a beer. 
You took off your makeup, your dress, and showered, trying to wash your insecurities away. You knew you were pretty, you knew Derek loved you the way you were. 
Sometimes insecurities just get the better of you.  
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
You sheepishly walked into your bedroom and saw Derek on the bed, waiting for you. 
“Can we talk?” He asked and you nodded slowly. “What’s wrong?”
And with that, the floodgates opened. You pushed your face into his chest, crying against him as he comforted you. “I just… I know I’m ‘pretty’ and all but… sometimes I just-”
“Hey, you are pretty, so goddamn pretty baby,” he smiled at you and it eased some of the hurt in you. “But I get that you don’t always feel like it, which is fine too, y’know why?”
“Why?” You snuffled out, looking up at him through running mascara.
“Because I can alway remind you, my pretty girl,” he smirked, and sealed his statement with a kiss. 
You felt better, knowing you had someone who loved you no matter what. 
It’s not like Derek minded, he was so head over heels for you you could’ve had two heads and he wouldn't have cared. You were his.
—----------------------------------------------------------------------------
criminal minds masterlist:)
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laylajeffany · 19 hours
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Crying at the Texas Roadhouse | Wenclair One-Shot for @cruciokilljoy
Rating: G WC: 4,500 Summary: Enid’s feelings are hurt and Wednesday tries to resolve them, requiring her to find her soft spot (in public) when Enid starts sobbing in the middle of a chain restaurant in Jericho. Enid's POV, established relationship, unrelated to any of my multi-chapter work TW: Esther Sinclair being herself
@cruciokilljoy You were probably looking for more physical hurt/comfort but both my multi-chap fics have explored that pretty throughly and I am tired of writing the girls in physical pain so I put them through emotional pain instead. Certainly not based on actual, recent conversations with my own hateful mother not at all ☠️
“You were crying.”
Duh.
“Like, an hour ago,” Enid clarified, looking at Wednesday as she stepped into their room with her jacket draped over her arm, sleeves rolled up, hands filthy. She could only imagine what her girlfriend had gotten into (literally, looking at the caked-on mud on her Oxfords that ran up to her stocking-covered knees). “I hardly think that’s the most pressing thing we need to talk about. Why are you covered in dirt?”
“Mud wrestling,” Wednesday replied dryly.
“Not enough on you for that.” Enid rolled her eyes and crossed her sweater-covered arms. She almost didn’t want to know but would certainly rather discuss Wednesday's potentially illegal antics than herself after the challenging evening that she’d already had.
She wasn’t in the mood for bickering, either way - so maybe quiet time would be best.
“Why were you upset?” Clearly, she wasn't going to drop it with her own deflection. Wednesday draped her jacket over the side of her desk chair and toed off her muddy shoes, forcing her to lose the small boost of lift they gave her, putting her squarely two inches beneath Enid. She stood directly in front of her, a kiss away – bearing into Enid with her eyes and forcing truth out of her.
Knowing her lower lip trembled a little, hating her tells and trying to frown the feelings away, Enid looked at her own feet. There was no use lying to Wednesday about an actually serious subject when the evidence was still in the bloodshot veins of her eyes. “My mother called. It was…it’s just always upsetting,” She glanced back up with a forced, sad smile. Wednesday’s eyes lost their intensity from curiosity, but gained something that was largely new for her – sympathy.
How Enid hated it. Deciding to dangle a tantalizing offer in front of her, she forced her pitch to remain neutral as she stated, “I don’t want to dwell on it. Can we skip the part where I rehash how my mom is a miserable person and…just go to dinner? You could edit my lycan paper after, I could use the help…”
Wednesday’s stare continued to be gentle and Enid was about ready to march out of the room if she didn’t quit. She couldn’t stand that. “Stop, please? Wednesday, honestly. I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to pacify me this evening. My mother always manages to upset me. And even if I stand up to her on the phone, I sometimes need to cry it out after. It’s like…” Deciding to use a weapon analogy, Enid expressed, “Like a fuse. She lit it, I detonated on her, and now there’s some debris to clean up, but I’m actually fine. I want to move on.”
Obviously a little put out by the way her jaw shifted just slightly, Wednesday disappeared wordlessly, returning from the community washroom down the hall with clean hands and sans her stockings, which Enid assumed she’d tossed rather than get any more flak from the on-site laundry service about soiling other people’s clothing.
She disappeared into her closet, coming out in a pair of wide-legged pants and an oversized black sweatshirt that fell nearly to her knees. If Enid could hide her emotions, she supposed she couldn’t comment on Wednesday hiding her body.
To her surprise, Wednesday actually let her not speak about her feelings and folded a hand into hers as she waved to Thing, nonverbally communicating that she wanted to be alone with Enid. Thing had been quite helpful to the whole affair – had heard her mother’s hurtful words, passed her tissues after she finished crying into her pillow, patted her back sweetly…
Wednesday led her to the foyer but didn’t turn to the right to take them to the cafeteria. Enid blinked a few times when Wednesday tugged her right out the front door and down the front steps. Confused, and really not in the mood to go investigating anything, particularly to discover whatever had Wednesday so dirty, Enid whined a little, “Can’t we just eat?”
“It’s Monday,” Her voice was just a touch darker than it had been in their room. “Nevermore’s infamous attempt at cowering to the vegetarians is tonight, and I don’t think their imitation beef is going to help you feel any better. We’re heading into town – I’m getting you a steak.” Well, that certainly perked her up just a little bit. “Withdrawing red meat once a week in an effort to be more environmentally friendly when ten percent of the student campus requires it as part of their metabolic diet is cruel, performative activism and we don’t need to be part of it. It makes as much sense as banning plastic straws. You don’t create systems change by following trends. Meatless Monday is going to meet my full-meat fist one of these days. But tonight, we’re going to crush peanut shells underfoot at a chain restaurant instead.”
More than okay with getting that salty coating in between the grooves of her furry, pink boots, Enid pulled Wednesday to her in a hug when they arrived to the edge of the forest trail that would take them into Jericho. Wednesday sucked in a breath of surprise at being forced into her hold but returned it after just a second of processing what was happening to her. “I don’t mean to take my bad mood out on you,” Enid apologized.
“I do it to you all the time,” Wednesday mumbled into her shoulder, sighing as she hooked her arms around her middle, hanging on just as tightly. “Usually for far-less valid reasons.” She pulled away to put her palms on Enid’s shoulders and met her eyes without that sympathy…instead…
Wednesday’s brown gaze in the setting sun was highly empathetic and made Enid drop half the tension in her shoulders. “I might also be a little hangry,” She confessed as her stomach roared suddenly between them.
There was a flirtation of a smirk on Wednesday’s lips at the noise and she said nothing, merely took her hand again, leading them boldly through the woods for a twenty-minute walk into town.
Enid swore she felt better just at the sight of the neon lights outlining the state of Texas with a cowboy hat perched on top of it when the restaurant was in view. Inside promised at least a feeling of satisfaction for the wolf within her, and that could often soften the meltdown of her personhood, too.
“Two, please,” Wednesday politely replied when the hostess, a too-cool Jericho High student with rapidly growing roots sticking out of her bleach blonde hair snapped her gum and looked irritated to have to ask how many were in their party.
Holding back her own growl of irritation, Enid would admit, she was relatively surprised by how well-behaved Wednesday could be in spaces like public restaurants. She often claimed that staff were simply victims of the State or something about labor rights, and generally tipped far more than Enid would’ve thought that they had earned.
Enid watched a basket of rolls be taken into a waitress’ hands and swallowed the saliva that threatened to slip out of her lips, thinking Wednesday was about to drop her hand as she often did in public – but not that day. She must’ve sensed some of her mother’s conversation had been about, willing to take on any bigot that might’ve had something to say about the two of them in a relationship. Vermont might’ve been one of the more progressive states in the country, but – certainly, so was California, and her mother had a whole lot to say from there that evening…
Once they were seated, Enid took a roll without waiting even a beat for the young woman who would be taking care of them to go through her required spiel, while Wednesday simply gave a curt nod at her before giving all of her attention to Enid as she went to return with water. (Enid could hardly wait for the day she could down one of those massive margaritas in the advertisements all over the establishment.)
She was halfway through with her first roll when Wednesday’s harsh stare asked the question before she needed to confirm, “You missed lunch with that extra dance practice today.”
“I’m sorry,” Enid said, just about ready to own up to anything – even things she hadn’t done, in an effort to just keep everyone from blowing up at her anymore that day. She really couldn’t handle Wednesday being frustrated with her, too -  
“Next time, tell me,” Wednesday ordered, her voice clipped; Enid stared hard at the rings on the wooden, lacquered tabletop, willing her next round of sadness to stay internal. “I’ll bring you something to class. Don’t apologize to me.”
About to say ‘sorry’ again, Enid just bit her lip, seeing the tears that were threatening to well up in her gaze. She tried to blink them away, and was grateful when the waitress asked if they needed more time with the menu when she brought their water over. Enid just shook her head, while Wednesday started, then said her name in a very gentle tone – and all the up and down of soft and hard was really –
“Um, the twelve-ounce New York strip, please – rare.”
“You know that means pink, possibly bloo-”
Wednesday was quick to defend her. “She knows what her body requires.”
Enid let out a shuddered breath, quietly asking for her sides before the waitress left. Wednesday reached across the table and took both of Enid’s hands, clearly needing to understand more about what was making her act so small and miserable. “Tell me what your mother said.”
“I don’t want to think about it,” Enid argued, feeling her tone rising as hysteria was pouring out of each vein, flooding her body.
“You obviously already are. It’s weighing on you. Release the burden, and you’ll feel relief.”
As the first tear fell, Wednesday’s face contorted from intensity and certainty to overwhelmed and near helplessness as she obviously hadn't thought through the fact that Enid was going to cry in public. She squeezed Enid’s hands, but the gesture only caused the second one to dribble, then the third, and the fourth, and Enid brought her sweater up over her face to keep from letting out an audible sob in the restaurant.
Thankfully, Wednesday had some sort of awareness about what to do – they’d been dating for months and friends for so long, she’d seen her fair share of Enid’s breakdowns and generally knew what did and didn’t help. When the preventative measures clearly weren’t working that Monday, she stood up and rounded to the space beside her, putting an arm around her and letting Enid fold herself into her chest. The unexpected display of affection was actually bringing out even more of her release. God – that hug to soothe her emotions into was exactly what Enid needed, and the fact that Wednesday had it in her to be soft enough around her to let her break down, in a half-full restaurant, into her arms? She loved her more than anything, and Enid knew that, she just wished, maybe – well, Wednesday was probably right. She did just need to talk about it to work through it.
When she met the black strings of her hoodie, Enid knew she let out a cry of a sniffly sound. It was embarrassing, devastating, really, to be having a full breakdown at the Texas Roadhouse. But Wednesday had been determined to try and make her feel better that evening and was going to have to finish what she started, even if that meant snuggling her in a vinyl-covered booth while the waitress awkwardly put their salads down on the same side of the table a few minutes after the crying began.
Wednesday unrolled one of the fabric napkins, shaking out a knife and the forks. For a brief, split-second, Enid thought she really might eat one-handed while she continued to snivel all over her chest, but Wednesday instead used the square to dab Enid’s cheeks, soaking up the tears that hadn’t been absorbed into her sweatshirt. She adjusted her hold on her girlfriend and looked at her with something new –
Sincerity.
Almost blubbering again, Enid just nodded, knowing it would do well to admit what Esther had said to her on the phone. “My…mother – she was …on her weekly rampage, about…everything. Nevermore, administration refusing to split us up – you not receiving any consequences from last semester…the usual. Then…it shifted,” She sniffed. “She brought up my late blooming, how I’d been so privileged to have been even have parents who cared enough to offer to send me to lycanthropy conversion camp…”
Wednesday’s hand curled on her upper thigh at that.
“And when she wasn’t getting a rise out of me for that, she dug deeper – the normal line of inane ramblings of how she couldn’t believe after all that time, ‘that Addams girl’ was what got me to shift for the first time…and, when I reminded her, ‘that Addams girl’ is Wednesday, my girlfriend, she…she…just said, ‘we don’t talk about that,’ and started bitching about the value of a Nevermore education not matching up to the price tag, not that it mattered – since none of her pack were scoring above a 3.5 on the ‘mediocre’ grading system, moved on to my scar tissue and wanting me to come home to have a consultation with a plastic surgeon for a revision procedure, and I said that wasn’t going to happen and hung up on her. Then I cried.”
Watching Wednesday respond to the entirety of the call was like discovering something new hidden in a sensory tube every other second. While she was short for words, Wednesday’s eyes always spoke volumes about what she would say if she dared to put her thoughts out verbally. Mr. Addams had described her tongue as that of a viper to Enid more than once when telling stories about her, so she was pretty sure it was often for the best that Wednesday focused on taking in all the information before reacting. She knew that Wednesday tended to get into it with administrators and authority, but at least with Enid – she was far more even-tempered in how she responded to hearing words she didn’t like.
Enid let out a long breath and picked up one of the forks that Wednesday had shaken out of the napkin, needing to channel her energy into anything but crying again. She speared leafy greens onto the tines, trying not to visualize doing the same to any of her mother’s more vulnerable body parts, for that matter – wondering which Wednesday would fantasize about ripping out first in her defense.
“I’m sorry, Enid,” Wednesday spoke through a near whisper of a tone.
Hearing those words come out of Wednesday was like hearing foreign language that she needed to interpret. Her fork fell out of her hand. Not wanting to startle her anymore, Enid brought her longing, hopeful sort of gaze to Wednesday’s. “Why are you apologizing now?”
Wednesday drew her hands into her lap, staring straight ahead. It took her some time to form her response, likely, if Enid had to guess, because of the emotion that was pooling in her own eyes. She knew her damn well enough that she wouldn’t shed anything close to a tear in public, but Wednesday was very much on the edge. It didn’t make sense – she’d done nothing wrong, aside from maybe push her into talking about it when Enid knew what that would unleash, but even then – it’s not like she had been the one to say all those hurtful things…
“I suppose I am not apologizing with my sorry. But I am sorry that I contributed to enough of your mother’s ire that she took it out on you. I’m sorry that she continues to refuse to acknowledge that you are in a non-traditional relationship, let alone demonstrate any sort of positive feeling about it. I’m sorry that she continues to bring up painful events of the past, and attempt to shame you for them, or think you should have been grateful for her wanting to send you to an abusive situation. I’m sorry that she thinks your grades aren’t good enough – you’ve got a 3.87 right now, which is Magna cum laude and I’m really proud of you for working diligently at increasing your grade point average. I’m sorry that she thinks you need plastic surgery. If you wanted to, that would be your choice. But I love your scars, and I think they’re beautiful.”
Enid could barely breathe. She wasn’t sure if Wednesday had ever said so many words consecutively, let alone that indicated her true feelings on any subject matter…that she was harboring so many about her, in particular. Trying not to let herself curl up into the faux-wooden logs that made up the side wall of their booth, Enid finally found the ability to expand her lungs and release the last of the tension she’d been harboring. “I don’t want you to feel sorry for me.”
“It’s not in pity,” Wednesday clarified. “It’s not. It’s…perhaps a feeling that I don’t have a schema for.” She gave a rare blink as she seemed to be trying to find the emotional vocabulary within her to better explain herself, staring at Enid, who was pretty sure she was going to need an inhaler by the end of dinner at the rate Wednesday was taking her breath away. Finally, she gave a nearly-invisible shrug as she further clarified, “I just know, that I love you. And I despise that anyone would attempt to make you feel small, or anything else negative, especially someone who is also supposed to love you unconditionally. And I am sorry, that you were forced to endure that. All your life. So…I’m sorry, and I hope to make it up to you.”
Tilting her head, sniffing just a little, finding the shiest hint of a smile, Enid promised in a watery whisper, “You are. Right now. You…knew that I needed to take care of myself, and that school wasn’t going to cut it, and you brought me to the Texas Roadhouse,” She let out a small bubble of a laugh. “Here, I’ll get what I need to sustain me, but while we’re waiting,” She paused, reaching over for one of Wednesday’s clasped hands, forcing them apart so they could squeeze one another’s. “You’re giving me the opportunity to release what doesn’t. Thank you, Wednesday.”
There was a new wave on Wednesday’s features – a distinct mark of relief in her gaze as she swept it, unblinking onto Enid again. “It is hardly my forte to make someone who was sad return to baseline, let alone anything akin to happiness…”
“You’ve done a pretty remarkable job for me,” Enid assured her when the waitress brought out their main courses, looking a little awkward as she put them near their still-full salad plates.
“Uh…anything else I can bring you girls?”
“A total end to the heteronormative, compulsory, traditional society we continue to find ourselves existing in,” Wednesday said without hesitating.
The waitress blinked.
Enid shook her head. “I think we’ve got anything we need, right here.”
The woman left with wide, confused eyes and Enid sighed, cutting into her steak without thinking twice, watching the red ooze out onto her plate. The sight grossed her out, but she knew it would do her body good.
Sure enough – halfway into the steak, she was feeling remarkably better already. “Try to finish it,” Wednesday prompted her. “The full moon is on Thursday, you should be nearly doubling your caloric intake.”
Kissing her cheek, earning the slightest twinge of red to her cheeks, Enid thanked her and followed through, polishing off the meat, picking at her vegetables while Wednesday ate with a distinct sort of raised-higher-class slowness that she usually did.
After finishing and watching Wednesday tip the waitress almost double what the bill had been, Enid took her hand and made it her turn to lead them – the yellow glow of a Dollar General sign across the street tempting her. “I feel like properly finishing up my breakdown by making a frivolous, five-dollar purchase.”
Wednesday’s eyes rolled but she didn’t fight her. Mid 2000s soft-pop radio was playing as they stepped into the nearly desolate discount store, one that Enid liked because of the deadstock that featured some of her favorite comfort characters from her childhood. Knowing exactly what she wanted, she led Wednesday through precariously stacked makeshift aisles of cardboard boxes filled with inventory that would be put out by the one employee working there over the course of several weeks. She hummed along to the music, singing along softly with Colbie Caillat, feeling a little bubbly herself as Wednesday refrained from spewing out comments on late-stage capitalism or some such true, but nonsensical arguing that would accomplish nothing between them. “Here they are,” She said, gesturing to a host of children’s coloring books. Wondering if Wednesday's limited access to traditional children's media would kick in, Enid playfully wondered, “Anybody look familiar to you?”
“Even someone who spent a significant portion of her childhood exploring the caves below the house like myself can recognize the ultimate example of corporate greed, the mouse that is Mickey.”
“Yikes,” Enid commented, “I’ll steer clear of the Disney characters.” Mentally retracting her statement to herself about Wednesday being able to hold back full-punch societal comments, she smirked, spotting what she wanted pretty much right away, taking a pink, Strawberry Shortcake book into her hold. “Will you color with me?”
“I cannot promise that I won’t be giving the fruitcake a makeover. And a knife.”
Giggling, then singing along a little more as she took Wednesday’s hand and wove her through the maze of mess before checking out – spending a whopping two dollars and twelve cents to achieve the final release in neurotransmitters that would complete her night.
After a walk back to Ophelia Hall that included a great production of sneaking back into the campus as they’d left without permission, Enid and Wednesday both found themselves in their pajamas and ready for bed before Enid took her art supplies out from a basket, revealing about three hundred colored pencils in different shades.
Wednesday flipped through the coloring book with a touch of a nose wrinkle, staring at the smiley, fruit-themed girls. She was going out of her way, clearly setting every intention of getting through the moment to make her girlfriend happy as she'd claimed. Finally letting out a real, whole laugh, Enid earned her perplexed stare. “You did it,” She promised. Wednesday waited and Enid winked. “You didn’t just reset me to factory settings, but you made me happy. I promise. You totally do not have to color with me. You can read or edit papers or whatever else is going to make you happy, too. So long as you’re not out solving mysteries, but here with me.”
There was a beat of relief as Wednesday took out a book she’d been reading through, curling up beside Enid, who took some creative liberties as Wednesday would have, forcing a picture of Lemon Meringue, the pigtailed character, and Strawberry Shortcake to look as close to herself and Wednesday as possible, even adding a little knife into Lemon’s hand. Wednesday let Enid pick the music, but she went with one of her playlists of cello covers as a compromise for both of them.
When she finished and flashed the coloring sheet to her girlfriend, Wednesday almost smiled, amusement evident in her eyes as she took a knife out of her pajama pocket (naturally – everyone needed a bedtime knife), evenly slicing it out of the book. She tacked it up on Enid’s bulletin board before putting all the coloring supplies away while Enid watched. Finally, she turned off all the lights except the strand of twinkling ones she’d magically learned to tolerate once they started dating.
She brought Enid to the floor-bed they’d made with a roll-away mattress that was more comfortable than cramming into either of their twin beds, lying on her back as usual, and inviting Enid to curl up with her with silence, just vague gestures – a pat of her own chest, a small nod…
“Wednesday, I love you. Thank you, for making me feel one hundred percent better. I feel even better than before my mom called,” Enid said softly, nuzzling into her.
Wednesday’s fingers instinctively wove into her hair. “I’m tempted to block her number on your phone so she can’t get a hold of you. I can’t promise that if I’m in the room the next time she calls, I won’t make her feel something about herself that is more than true.”
“Good,” Enid encouraged with a contented huff. “She deserves that.”
“You didn’t deserve what she said or attempted to do to you in the past. And I hope that…her comments about…us, don’t make you second guess things. I am always here – to repair and comfort what she has hurt or damaged, as long as you want me to.”
Enid squeezed her affectionately. “You are excellent at comforting my hurts.”
There was a small breath of alleviation she felt from Wednesday. Wanting her to really understand that, she added, “You went out of your way for me tonight. You could’ve just given me a hug, taken me down to the dining hall, and come up to edit my paper. But you didn’t. You knew what very specific things would make me physically feel better, then opened yourself up emotionally for me, too. You’re the best. I love you.”
Wednesday clutched her tightly with one palm wrapped around her back, the other gently tracing the skin near Enid’s scars. Her words felt a little surprising when she added, “I would like to apologize for forcing you to talk about what happened before you were ready. I’m sure you would have liked to not cry in public at the Texas Roadhouse.”
“I think it’s a perfectly lovely public place to have a breakdown,” Enid said with a giggle at her own expense.
Wednesday said nothing other than a quiet, “I love you. Go to sleep.”
Closing her eyes so she could follow the direction, Enid sighed very contently, reflecting on the evening as she drifted off to have the chance to start over in a new day.
Layla is working through prompts and determined to write the Black Menagerie epilogue for the weekend - stay tuned for more ✌🏼
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darkwolf989 · 2 days
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I love your dad Vox stuff! Could I request Y/N trying to tell Vox she likes girls?
Of course you can! Enjoy!
I took a deep breath as I made my way through the familiar corridors that made up my fathers company, VoxTech. Even if I closed my eyes I was confident I would make it straight to his office door without hitting a single wall. I should know the layout that well, after all, I practically grew up here. It made me sick to my stomach that this might be the last time I walked through this building. But I couldn’t keep hiding my secret forever. I needed to tell my father the truth, and only hoped he could tolerate me for who I was. 
The kiss was what sealed my fate. Sneaking around the high school halls with a girl I had the absolute biggest crush on. Hiding behind the gym bleachers, her soft lips pressed against mine. She smelled like peaches and sunshine and for a fraction of a second, everything was right with the world. 
I had played the conversation over and over in my head a thousand times over the past few weeks. 
“Dad, I’m a lesbian,” I would say. 
A thousand different scenarios followed those words. In some scenarios, he cried. In others, he became angry. In a few, he pushed me away and shunned me as his daughter. None of the outcomes I imagined were good, but I just hoped…
Well, I hoped he would still love me. And I didn’t hurt him too badly. 
I took a deep breath and pushed open the door that would lead me over the shark tanks to my fathers central command. 
My father sat in his usual seat, the middle of countless monitors showing all the different views of hell. He sipped his coffee and his chair turned around. Instantly, his expression brightened. 
“Reader! What brings you to me this late in the day? Everything okay at school? I’m not going to get another angry phone call from your teacher, am I?” 
“Hi Daddy, no, not that I know of. I sort of have a bigger reason I want to talk to you,” I said softly. “Do you have a minute?”
“Always for my little girl,” Vox answered as he leaned back in his chair. “What’s up, babydoll?” His expression turned to one of concern. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed as I tried to bite back the nerves and stick to the script. Instead, it all blurted out at once, tears choking me as I spoke.
 “Dad, I- I think I like girls. And I’m sorry and I just, I’m sorry, Daddy! It’s just who I am!”
He stared at me for a heartbeat. I looked down and tried to choke back my tears. Here it came. The anger. The fury. The banishment. 
Wordlessly, he stood up and walked across to where I stood.  He pulled me into his arms and planted a kiss on my forehead. “There, there, little one. Is that what has you so worked up? You want to start dating and you think I’ll say no? I mean, sixteen is a little young to be out without a curfew, but I’m sure we can come to an agreement that works for us. Is there a special girl you have in your life?”
“Dad, I like girls!” I choked out as I buried his face into his shoulder. 
His arms wrapped around me and he gently rubbed my back. “I know. I heard you, sweetie. I promise we’ll figure out the dating rules. I mean, it won’t be perfect but…”
I looked up at him in confusion. Maybe, maybe I wasn’t being clear enough. “Daddy, you don’t, you don’t understand. I think I’m a lesbian.”
“Well, yes that is generally what liking girls is called,” he began. And then a pause. Shock registered across his face. “Wait, did you think I would be upset that you like girls and not boys? Sweetheart!” His hand cupped my chin and he carefully wiped away a tear before cradling me back to his shoulder. He held me tighter and I felt his chest vibrate. 
Was he…laughing?
“Honey, you didn’t honestly think I would be upset over that, did you? I mean, come on sweetie. Have you met your Uncle Val?” He planted a kiss on my forehead and held me back by my shoulders. “Reader, I love you. And nothing you say or do will ever stop me from loving you. You will always be my little girl. Promise.” He put his arm around my shoulder and carefully guided me across the walkway. “Let’s hold a family meeting tonight to discuss dating rules. Can you agree to that? I think your Auntie Vel and Uncle Val will have some…helpful input.” 
I could only nod. 
As we stood and waited for the elevator, relief flooded through me. I turned to my Dad and wrapped my arms around him in a hug. He instantly hugged me back.
“Daddy? I love you.”
“I love you too sweetheart. Now come on, let’s grab ice cream and you can tell me all about her. I want to know everything. What’s her name? How old is she? Does she go to your school? Who are her parents? I want to know everything.”
I felt the corners of my mouth twitch up in a smile as we stepped into the elevator. “Daddy, just promise you won’t do a background check.”
He laughed as the doors closed. “No promises, babygirl.”
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zeb-z · 5 months
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I just think Tallulah gets to be upset about this. “It’s not Wilbur’s fault” “He’s not a bad dad” “He loves his daughter so much” yes! These are all true! And it’s not his fault! But he’s still not there. And Tallulah has gone through so much and still hasn’t seen him, the one time he was around was the one time she wasn’t, and all she has are letters and “I’m thinking of you always” and things that used to be theirs together, but he’s still not there. She’s waited and she’s been patient and she’s loved him all the same, and he’s still not there. Like yesterday, and the day before, and the day before, from the happy milestones to the traumatic events, he’s still not there.
She knows that it’s not his fault, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s absent. That in and of itself just adds to the sorrow, because she knows why he’s gone, and she’s been told time and time again it doesn’t mean he doesn’t care, she knows this - it doesn’t mean it doesn’t sting, that it doesn’t hurt, that she doesn’t yearn for her father to be there more than anything in the world, and he’s just not there.
So yes, she gets to be upset, and be caustic, and stomp her feet and write bitter messages, and be angry and vitriolic, because she’s a little girl missing her father, who feels things with her whole heart and soul - and that means she gets to feel the ugly parts of it, too.
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itspileofgoodthings · 11 days
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I love the rhyming on ttpd. can only think of two examples currently but I know there’s more.
#the dancing phantoms on the terrace do they get second hand embarrassed#is e v e r y t h I n g#but also I can’t stop thinking about:#you. look. like. taylor swift. in this light—we’re lovin’ it#like just the flow. the cadence. not even just the rhyme but#her ease with language and playfulness with it and all the little pockets and corners of so many songs#even ones you think you don’t like. settle in with time!#like the thing about taylor is that she is VERY much a poet#in that some of her genius/way with words is innate#and the images and stuff she uses the turns of phrase can feel so garish and embarrassing on first listen#they JAR#but honestly I think it’s because she is truly …. new? she is doing something NEW#and the shock and outrage that always goes with new things is always present with a Taylor album#and I think she’s drawing on so much from the past to write but she is so deeply rooted in the present cultural moment#so it’s so easy to dismiss her writing on first glance as like. idk a college girl’s idea of poetry#as being too Stark or Melodramatic.#she loves OBVIOUS imagery and extremely dramatic ones too#but she isn’t actually just throwing stuff at the wall#because pretty much always. it starts to land and soften and settle#and the image she’s chosen has done its job of drawing you into a world#and/or communicating an emotion#and sometimes it’s so upsetting. like. get me out of the bedroom with Matty Healy taylor!!!!!!!!!! but. the art is art-ing!#I guess is what I’m saying. she’s good at this it isn’t just hype#but some of it really is that she’s taking us places we might not want to go or are so quick to pass judgment on#as being unworthy of a song or more importantly a poem. but present art HAS to do that#and does do it!!!!!! idk I am just. musing
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inkskinned · 7 months
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what is with men being mad any time a woman raises her voice where did that even come from. someone posted a video of a small electrical explosion, and the top comment was of course the woman screams. the second comment is women try not to scream challenge, level impossible. i had to go back and watch the video again. there is, somewhat fainty, a little gasp emitted off-camera, more of a yelp than a scream. it is mostly lost in the crack of the explosion. afterwards, you hear her voice, shaken, say, are you okay?
i am helping one of my friends train her voice pitch lower, because she wants to be taken seriously at work. she and i do each other's nails and talk about gender roles; and how - due to our appearance - neither of us have ever been able to be "hysterical" in public. we both appear young and sweet and feminine. she is cisgender, and cannot use her natural voice in her profession because people keep saying she appears to be "vapid". we both try to figure out if our purposeful voice lowering is technically sexist. is it promoting something when you are a victim to it?
a storm almost sends a pole through a car window. in the dashcam, you can hear the woman passenger say her partner's name twice, crying out in alarm. she sounds terrified. in the comments, she is lambasted for her lack of calm. how is that even fucking helping?
in high school, i taught myself to have a lower voice. i had been recorded when i was genuinely (and righteously) upset; and i hated how my voice sounded on the phone speakers when it was played back. i was defending my mom, and my voice cracked with emotion. it meant i was no longer winning the argument: i was just shrieking about it.
girls meet each other after a long summer and let out a little joyful scream. this usually stops around 12-14, because people will not tolerate this display of affection (as it has the effect of being passingly annoying). something about the fact that little girls can't ever even be annoying. we are trained to examine each part of our lives (even joy) for anything that could make us upsetting and disgusting. they act like teenage girls are breaking into houses and shrieking you awake at 3 in the morning. speaking as a public school educator: trust me, it's not that bad, you can just roll your eyes and move on. it does not compare to the ways boys end up being annoying: slurs in graffiti, purposefully mocking your body, following you after you said no. you know, just boy things.
there's another video of a man who is not allowed to yell in the house, so he snaps his fingers when he's excited about soccer. the comments are full of angry men, talking about how their brother is unfairly caged. let him express himself and this is terrible to do to someone. eventually the couple has to address it in a second video: they are married with a newborn baby. he was trying not to wake the infant up. there is no comment on the fact women are not allowed to yell indoors. or the fact that it could have been really alarming or triggering for his wife. sometimes i wonder if straight men even like women, if they even enjoy being in relationships with them.
for the longest time, i hated roller coasters because it always felt inappropriate and uncomfortable for me to scream. one of my friends called me on it, said it was unusual i'm so unwilling. i had to go to my therapist about it. i don't like to scream because i was not raised in a safe situation, and raising my voice would have brought unsafe attention towards me. even when i am supposed to scream, it feels shameful, guilty. i was not treated kindly, so i lack a basic form of self-protection. this is not a natural response. it is not good that in a situation of high adrenaline - i shut up about it.
something very bad is happening, i think. in between all the beauty standards and the stuff i've already discussed - this one feels new and cruel in a way i can't quite express. yes, it's scary and silencing. but there's something about how direct it is - that so many men agree with the sentiment that women should never yell, even in an emergency - it feels different.
is the word shriek gendered automatically? how about shrill or screech? in self defense class, one of the first things they tell you is to yell, as loud and as shrilly as you can. they say it will feel rude. most women will not do this. you need to practice overcoming the social pressure and just scream.
most women do not cry out, even when it's bad. we do not report it. we walk faster. we do not make a scene. what would be the point of doing anything else? no matter what we do, we don't get taken seriously. it is a joke to them. an instagram caption punchline. we have to present ourselves as silent, beautiful, captivating - "valuable."
a woman is outside watching her kids when someone throws a firecracker at them. she screams and runs towards her children. in the comments, grown men flock together in the thousands: god. women are so annoying.
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toastsnaffler · 3 months
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prev post reminds me a friend told me last week she doesnt believe i actually struggle with emotional volatility/dysregulation like ive mentioned before bc shes never seen it firsthand...............
#i dont even know what to tell u girl. i couldnt even give her examples to dispute it bc i find it so shameful and difficult to talk abt#and it would probably be upsetting to her to hear the sort of things that have triggered me. and how ive coped with the outbursts#as if i dont structure all social interaction in my life around trying to swallow this shit down so ppl find me just about tolerable enough#genuinely hurtful thing to hear from someone i care abt. im not upset at her anymore abt it bc what would be the point man#i can understand why she thinks that + i cant control what she believes. but it did bother me a lot + some trust has been lost there.#esp considering she struggles w getting ppl to believe her when she talks abt how she feels bc she doesnt necessarily express it outwardly#in ways other ppl expect. like since ik that im always going to try to assume shes being honest so i dont disrespect how she feels#but its hypocritical + more than a little unfair to not offer other people the same trust + respect. why wont u take me at face value#and anyway why the hell would i say i struggle w controlling my emotions if i dont. what clout am i getting from claiming that#even admitting it is a hard thing for me.... and if thats too much for her to accept it just becomes a barrier in our friendship.#shame but i shouldve expected it tbh. anyway its ok ive moved on no point dwelling on it i dont want to bring it up again#bc theres nothing to gain from it. an apology wouldnt change anything since thats what she genuinely thinks#and whatever she wants to believe doesnt change the fact it is True and likely the biggest cause of strife I experience in my life#blegh stopping there bc im edging into rumination now#god im so tired. bedtime soon i think but maybe ill play a quick game or smth to make it to 10pm.... this week has been so long#.diaries
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luv4freddie · 4 months
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Fools - T.N
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in which the only Hufflepuff friend in the group of slytherins develops a crush on Theodore Nott— something only fools do.
fem!hufflepuff reader, bff Pansy, use of euphemisms and teasing yn for being innocent but sfw, reader is very emotional, jealous theo, 2800 words
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"Y/n!!"
After a year, you'd think that people would get used to seeing the same Hufflepuff go over to the Slytherin table, but alas, half the Great Hall turned to watch you approach the table and take a seat next to Pansy.
She sticks her middle finger up behind your back, aiming it at all of the people who are still staring, and they quickly turn away. It was an unlikely friendship, but she was not going to let anyone make you feel bad about it.
"About time you get here," Draco huffs, "I've had to hear Pansy's 'girl talk' while you were sleeping."
You smile sheepishly at him, you had taken your sweet time this morning, hitting snooze a few times before listening to your favorite record and doing more singing than actually getting ready— resulting in you being extra late to breakfast.
"Sorry, Draco."
"Don't apologize yn, he doesn't deserve it."
You can hear the teasing lilt in Theo's voice from across the table, and Draco throws a handful of grapes at him.
"Whatever," Pansy turns her back to them, "did you hear, apparently the Hufflepuff chaser has a crush on you."
Your eyes flit between her face and your hands, and you wonder where she got her information from.
The boys around you seem to perk up at this, and Draco chides Pansy for deeming that piece of information unimportant compared to all her other, much more useless, girl talk this morning.
"Where on Earth did you hear that?" You cut in, not enjoying the way everyone is suddenly interested in your (nonexistent) love life.
"From a very trustworthy source," is all she'll give away, and you cringe.
"Can we change subjects, please?"
Theo narrows his eyes at you, as if he's searching your face for something.
"You don't care about it then? You're not jumping at the chance to ride his broom?"
The Slytherins around you snicker at his euphemism, but you go bright red.
"I- what! Why would you say- no!"
This only makes them laugh harder, but Pansy collects herself enough to place a reassuring hand on your arm.
"Don't worry, we all know our little puff would never."
You slap her hand away, upset at them treating you like a child.
"Well if you guys are only gonna tease me, I'm gonna go back to my own table."
"Y/n, we didn't mean-" Theo starts, but he's still got a smirk on his face, so you ignore him, leaving before he can try and stop you.
You take a seat at your own house table, and the Hufflepuffs around you immediately welcome you into their conversation.
You don't know why it bothered you so much. They were right, you weren't going to be "riding someone's broom" anytime soon, but hearing the way they talked about it— like you were just some silly, innocent baby— really bugged you.
If you were being honest with yourself, you also knew that deep down you've been repressing feelings for Theodore, because you knew enough stories about him to know it would never work. He was a heartthrob, and had no issue finding girls to entertain him at night— to him you were just a little girl. That conversation was just more proof. There's no way he'd be interested in you.
You unintentionally make eye contact with Zacharias Smith when you finally get out of your head, but you immediately look away, turning back to your friends just as Hannah asks about your Christmas plans.
You don't see your Slytherin friends again until Charms class, and Pansy immediately brings up what happened at breakfast.
"Hey, I'm sorry about that. I don't want you to feel bad, that's just how we are."
You give her a tight lipped smile, shrugging your shoulders. You've realized that most of the anger came from the realization that Theo probably saw you as a child, not actually their teasing.
"No biggie, it's forgiven."
She eyes you suspiciously but decides not to question it, instead starting to talk about her next party idea until she gets shushed when Professor Flitwick starts explaining directions.
You use the quiet moment to sneak a look at Theo, who's leaned back in his chair smirking at something Draco said next to him.
Pansy turns to you and you quickly shift your focus, but it appears she's already seen you. She gives you a raised eyebrow, and you play dumb, looking back at the teapot on your desk and trying to give it legs.
"What was that about back there?" Pansy asks as the two of you walk out together.
"I know it took me forever to get those stupid legs," you cringe, hoping to throw her off course.
"No I meant your staring."
You try not to look guilty, just shrugging your shoulders and explaining, "figured the boys might have figured it out faster. Should have known better."
She grins at that, muttering "you really should have." But something tells you she doesn't quite believe your story.
Your thoughts are only confirmed the next day when she invites you over to her dorm and then immediately suggests the two of you take veritaserum to play a game of truth or dare.
You let out a sigh.
"I'm not doing that Pans, just ask me whatever you want to know."
She grins, "you know me so well."
"Unfortunately," you tease, and she slaps your arm but asks her question anyway.
"Do you have a crush on Draco?"
Her face drops into confusion when you start laughing hysterically.
"That's what you thought? Merlin, you had me scared for no reason. No Pans, I absolutely do not have a crush on Draco."
She lets out a small sigh of relief, but you can tell she's a little peeved you laughed at her.
"Well what was I supposed to think? You got all grumpy yesterday when we were teasing you about your love life, and then the staring. It was either that or you're secretly in love with Nott, which, lets be for real."
She leaves it at that, but your cheeks flush pink. Be for real what? Be for real, he'd never want you? Be for real, what universe would the two of you work out? Be for real, he hates you?
The thoughts keep coming one after another, and suddenly your vision is blurred.
"Hey, woah, what's wrong?"
You cursed Pansy for being so observant.
"Nothing, I think my allergies are acting up." You say, but there's sadness in your voice, and there's an inch of snow outside, which isn't exactly pollen friendly.
"Don't lie to me y/n."
"I'm sorry for being so stupid and emotional." You cry, and Pansy rubs your back slowly.
"Hey, there's nothing wrong with being emotional! You don't see us do it much, but a lot of that's got to do with how we were raised. I wish I felt things as deeply as you do."
Your tears seem to slow, and she smiles.
"Now as for stupid, that depends on where that fit came from."
You look up at her in embarrassment, more hot tears threatening to fill your eyes.
"I... what did you mean?" You ask instead.
"Huh?"
"When you said be for real about me secretly being.." you couldn't bring yourself to say it, as if saying the words would make it true and something you could no longer push away and pretend wasn't there.
Realization dawns on Pansy's face, and she immediately wraps you up in a hug.
"Oh yn, it all makes sense now."
You continue to cry, and she looks at you with what you assume is pity in her eyes.
"I know, I'm such a fool! I know it would never happen, I know half of Hogwarts has a crush on him, I know he'd never want a girl like me." All of the things you'd been keeping to yourself and secretly thinking come spilling out of your mouth, and Pansy rubs your back while you continue to cry.
"Hey don't talk like that! Theo doesn't care about those people, and I know he cares about you. Not to mention, "a girl like you"? You're the exact type of girl that Theo needs. He practically never smiles the way he does when you're around. Just calm down okay?"
You nod through your cries, finally settling down as Pansy throws a magazine at you and the two of you lay across her bed.
Unknowingly, you end up falling asleep, tired from the amount of crying you did. Pansy notices but decides not to wake you, heading down to the common room where the guys would be getting back from quidditch practice soon.
When you wake up the room is dark, and a quick looks around reminds you you're in Pansy's room and not your own. You check the bathroom attached to the dorm, and when no one is in there you head down to the common room, assuming that's where she's gone to.
The whole group is sat on leather couches and armchairs when you make it down the stairs, and you rub the sleep out of your eyes as you approach the group.
"There's our assonnata bella," Theodore purrs, and you immediately flush even though you only understand half of his phrase. (sleeping beauty)
"Sorry for falling asleep." You apologize as you take the seat Pansy offered you, coincidentally landing between her and the reason for your crying.
"Stop apologizing so much," Theo whispers in your ear, and you refuse to look at him in fear of him seeing exactly the effect he has on you. Instead you continue to look at Pansy.
"No biggie, you needed it after that." She says, and you nod.
"After what? What happened?" Draco asked, ever the nosy weasel.
Pansy looked at you, obviously waiting for you to answer so she could go along with whatever you say.
You consider lying, but figure there's no point. They all know you're an emotional person, no one would find it unusual.
"I- uh- cried a little bit. Tired me out."
The boys (that you can see) all nod their heads in understanding and decide to switch topics, finally letting you relax.
However, since you'd turned your back to Theo, that now meant when you leaned back to get comfy you leaned directly into his chest, as he had one arm on the back of the couch behind you.
"Oh I'm so sorry!" You whisper, shooting back up and speaking only to him in an attempt to not draw attention from the others.
"Don't be silly," he says back, pulling your shoulders so you're back in the relaxed position against him, "you're welcome in my arms any day ragazza dolce." (Sweet girl)
You flush red again, but this time you do look up at him, a teasing glint in your eyes.
"You know I have absolutely no idea what you're saying, right?"
He grins, "that's part of the fun."
"Whatever," you turn back away from him to look at the group, your head resting right over his heart, "as long as you're not calling me a troll."
"I promise I'm not." He says, ruffling your hair before the both of you rejoin the main conversation.
"Zacharias Smith was at our practice today," Draco tells Pansy, and she looks at him in surprise.
"Really? Maybe he was looking for yn. She does sometimes keep me company in the stands."
"Oh he definitely was." Blaise smirks, and you feel Theo tense behind you. "Walked right up to Theo and asked where the pretty little one we're always hanging out with was."
"What?" Pansy shrieks, looking over, although you're unsure if the intentional target was you or the boy behind you. Her eyes momentarily widen at seeing your position before she notices something and smirks.
"Theo," she drawls, "I didn't notice those cuts on your knuckles earlier, is that new?"
Everyone turns to look at Theo, and you sit up in alarm, turning to look at his hand that's laying behind your spot on the couch.
"Theo! What happened? Why didn't you go get this checked out?"
He averts his eyes from your gaze. "Just wasn't thinking about it," he shrugs.
You frown. "How could you not be thinking about it, that looks painful!"
He shrugs again, grimacing when you grab his hand, insisting he let you heal it.
"Just let me go get my wand okay? I left it in Pansy's room."
You get up to leave, and with your back turned you don't see Pansy whisper to Theo and then him get up and follow you.
"I'll just come with." He announces, following you back to your friends room.
You try not to think about the intimacy of being alone with Theo while you tend to his wounds, trying once again to shove all your feelings down far in your heart.
Thankfully none of Pansy's roommates had come back, and Theo sits on her bed while you grab your wand from her nightstand before standing in between his spread legs.
"Give me your hand."
He complies, and you try not to blush at the warmth of his, much bigger, hand resting on your own.
"This is nasty Theo, did you punch a wall or something?" You ask, beginning to heal a few of the cuts. Luckily most of them were clean from where he'd washed them when he showered after practice, but they were scabbed over and his knuckles were blue with beginning to form bruises.
He lets out an amused huff of laughter and you stop your ministrations, looking up at him immediately.
"Tell me you didn't actually punch a wall."
He shrugs, "it was either that or Smith, and I know you don't like when I get into fights."
You feel yourself heat up. He didn't hit someone because of your preference, and the person just happened to be the guy who supposedly has a crush on you.
"Well I'm glad you didn't send my housemate to the hospital wing at least, although I wish you wouldn't have hurt yourself," you sigh, continuing to heal his hands.
Out of nowhere he pulls it away.
"Theo?"
"Look, I-" he cards a hand through his hair, contemplating his next words. "I didn't like it that Smith came looking for you. Especially that he asked me."
You look at him in confusion, "what? Why?"
He looks distraught, but he can't help the crooked smile that etches itself on his face.
"You're damn oblivious, you know that?"
You continue to look at him, no thoughts behind your eyes.
"Uh, I mean I guess? I've been told that a few times, though I'm not sure how it's pertinent to this situation."
Suddenly Theo's hands are on your cheeks, and his face is inches from your own.
"What- what are you doing?"
"I want to kiss you." He states plainly, as if it's the most normal thing in the world— as if the five words didn't have you spiraling out of control.
"Wait- do you want to kiss me because you think I'm like pretty or do you want to kiss me because you like me?"
You'd never even thought he would consider you pretty, but at his words you had to rethink a lot of things you thought you knew.
"I like you, amorina." (Little love)
"Really?" You know you should be celebrating, but you can't help the doubt that creeps into your mind. "You don't think I'm a silly, innocent, little Hufflepuff?"
He grins, "you can be my silly little Hufflepuff. And no I don't care that you're not jumping at the opportunity to go broom hopping."
You can't help but laugh a his phrasing, but you're glad he knew what you meant.
"I like you, amorina, I don't care about anything else, as long as I get you."
You smile, and Theo swears he could die happy if it's the last thing he sees.
"Well in that case, I want you to kiss me too."
He can barely hold back his own smile as he places his lips on yours, cradling your jaw with one hand while the other holds your hip.
He kissed you gently, not at all like what you'd expected, but you feel his adoration flowing out of it, and you can't help but break it to let out a giggle.
"And to think I was crying over you a few hours ago."
He grins, standing up and grabbing your hand to walk back down to the common room together, where your friends were waiting for you to go to dinner.
"No more crying over me okay?"
You nod your head, and he pulls you in for one more kiss before you rejoin the rest of your friends.
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tootiecakes234 · 4 months
Text
“Hey Katsuki”, you scream from the your bedroom.
“What” he yells back at you from somewhere else in the house.
“Where ya at?”
“In the game room.”
So you get up and head that way. When you enter he’s sat in his gaming chair with his headset on.
“Hey bub…. Hey guys” you say loud enough to be heard through his headset.
“Yea yea. They all said hey.” You knew Kirishima and Kaminari were on the other end. Maybe even Mina too cuz she wasn’t texting you back.
“Kit-Kat, I’m getting hungry. Do you know what sounds really good for dinner?”
“What?” he questions without taking his eyes off the screen.
You walk behind him and slide your arms around his neck and nuzzle into the back of his head. You’re trying to butter him up because you know he’s not gonna wanna make what you’re craving.
“You remember those dumplings you made from scratch a while ago?” You ask with your voice dripping in as much sweetness you can muster.
“No.”
“No you don’t remember or no you’re-“
And he interrupt you before you can even finish. “No im not cooking that. There are frozen dumplings in the fridge.”
“But Sukiiiiii, those aren’t as good as the ones you make. The flavors aren’t the same and yours are so crispy and doughy. Pleaaasseee.”
“Hey you assholes shut the hell up. No ones talking to you.” He responds to his friends in the headset. “You want her to have ‘em, bring your ass over and make ‘em”
“I’m not doing this. You idiots hold on.” And he pauses the game and turns around to face you and removes his head set.
“Look we can order takeout if you want, but I’m not about to make freakin dumplings from scratch cuz you have a craving. I’d have to go to the store and get ingredients and taking the time to make the wrappings. ‘S too much.” He tries to explain to you in a rational way .
“I knooowww…. I’d go to the store with you though and I’ll help you make them…. Pretty please” you whine and stick you lowere lip out just a little with your eyes as pleading as you can make them.
Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws his head back.
“You don’t get whatever you want just because you pout at me. Spoiled ass. Not today. Maybe sometime later this week.”
You didn’t actually think he’d tell you no. He usually never does. Maybe you are spoiled. Still makes you sad though.
So you put on your big girl pants, tuck your lip back in and give him a soft “ok” before you lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips so he knows you’re not upset with him.
He is allowed to say no.
“Is Mina on the game with you guys?” You ask him when you pull back.
“Yeah she is.”
“When you get back on can you tell her to stop being a bitch and answer my phone call. I have tea to spill.”
“I’ll tell her.”
And with that you head toward the door and leave.
Once you’re back in your room it takes Mina about 3 minutes to call you and you start catching her up on everything.
You guys stay on the phone for about 30 minutes before she has to go.
After that, you bury yourself in the blankets and start reading the manga you had lying on your nightstand.
Before you can really get into it, Katsuki is walking into your room and going into the closet.
“Get your ass outta bed and get dressed before I change my goddamn mind.”
“What?” You ask because now you’re confused.
“You said you were gonna go to the store with me to buy all this shit so get your ass up and let’s go.”
“Kats you don’t have to, it’s fine.”
“Look ya spoiled brat, if I gotta tell you to get up one more time we are gonna be in here fightin.”
And the smile that breaks out on your face. You hurry and get outta bed and rush him. “Awwwww my sweet boy”
“I swear to god, I’m this close to letting your ass starve.”
And you wrap your arms around him and start kissing everywhere on his face. When you pulled away he has a deep frown on his face but you can see the sparkle in his eyes that he gets when you’re super happy.
You pull away and scurry off to get dressed.
He really needs to start saying no to you and meaning it before you really lose the understanding of the word.
Katsuki Masterlist
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