#thanks for tagging this gave me an excuse to run my mouth lmao

[rainylana]

“Yup, that’s my wife.”

Eddie Munson x reader

summary: this is a part two of “i think i’m in love.” i wasn’t even going to make another part but you guys all demanded it lmao.

for those who wanted tagged<3

@imdoingbetternow @imangy @ahzysauce

@moonymatt @your-starless-eyes-remain @catherinnn

warnings: omg this is so fluffy i can’t. some language, eddie and dustin being chaotic as hell. it’s just so cute lmao. i know nothing of dnd so that’s a warning all by itself.

a/n: honestly should i just make this a series?? i think i could figure out a way to continue to build it. idk, let me know! Also, my requests are open! send me something!

update! i did make this a series lol, part three is here

“She’s coming right?”

“What time did you tell her?”

“You think we should clean up a bit? It’s a shithole in here.”

“Fuck, she’s gonna hate it. I know it. Not even married yet and we’ve gotten divorced.”

The hellfire club was in shambles, running and zooming around the school basement preparing for your big arrival. Eddie’s heart raced as the clock ticked on, his fingers twitching at his sides to see you again. You’d left a sweet taste in his mouth all day long, his mind could not leave your gentle, smiling face. He knew he was falling head over heals, but could you blame him? He wasn’t used to any woman being interested in what he said, nor did they ever want to hang out with him. This was new, and he was going insane.

“Jesus, why am I dusting!” Mike coughed. “I don’t think she’s gonna care if there’s dust, Eddie. I mean, you’ve got Gareth and Jeff sweeping!”

“Shut up, Wheeler,” Eddie snapped his fingers, standing on the dnd table as he tampered with the light fixture. “We needed to clean up anyways, this just gave us an excuse.”

“I picked her some flowers!” Dustin smiled tooth-fully, bringing some wild flowers out of his back back.

“What! No!” Eddie jumped off the table, his feet smacking against the floor. “She’s mine, Henderson. I saw her first.”

“Technically, I did.” Mike crossed his arms, earning a synchronized ‘shut up’.

“Give me those!”

“Fuck no! Go pick some yourself, I think I saw some grass outside-”

Your knock sounded loudly throughout the room, causing flinches and everyone to shut the hell up. Dustin hurriedly placed the flowers on the table behind him, stepping forward to open the door, but he was snatched back by the collar as Eddie yanked him backwards.

“Mine, Henderson.” He whispered, giving the freshman a death glare. He fixed his hair anxiously, straightening his wrinkled shirt as he looked about the room. “Look presentable.” He ordered, and they blindly straightened their posture.

He took a deep breath, begging a god he didn’t believe in to get him through the night. He opened the door, his face melting into a smirk at the sight of you. “Looks like Barbie showed.” He said over his shoulder, and you giggled under his stare.

“Think I wasn’t going to show?” You asked, making your way into the room as he shut the door behind you.

“Don’t take it personally, kiddo,” He took your arm in his to give you the grand tour, and you blushed awkwardly with a sly grin. “You just keep blowing our minds every chance you get. Anyways! You remember Dustin.” He gestured with his other hand, smirking a villainous glare at the boy as he held your arm.

“Yes, hi! How are you?” You smiled, tilting your head.

“Hey, uh,” He cleared his throat, reaching behind him to grab the flowers. Eddie’s eyes went wide. “I actually picked-”

“I picked these for you.” Eddie snatched the flowers out of his hand, petals dropping to the floor. “Here. Hope you like- well, whatever these are.”

You chuckled at their interaction, observing the messy picked flowers in hand. “Thank you.” You looked to both of them, dropping Eddie’s arm as you turned around. “So this is the game?” Your eyes danced amongst the pieces, your hands ghosting over the dice and other figures.

Perhaps you were crazy, showing up for some supposed “demon summoning” board game with a bunch of people you didn’t know. But what did you have to loose? Besides, it had been many years since you felt comfortable with a group like this. Besides, you felt more at home with the outcasts than with anyone else. They were obviously flirty, you knew that from the get-go, but they were harmless. And you liked Eddie. He was handsome and funny, had a charismatic energy about him that made you feel welcomed. You didn’t feel that often.

Your presence stuck out in the room, and while you were focused on the game pieces, everyone was staring at you, their mouths hanging open as you brought the 20 sided dice up to your eyes. Eddie nearly fainted at the sight. Never once, had a girl touched those pieces. Never once, had a girl played dnd with him before. Oddly enough, it felt like a date to him.

You had on skinny jeans, a baby pink, long sleeve shirt that clung your body. Your hair was let loose, curls flowing down your back with a pink bow, resting on the back of your head. You had on little pearl earrings, a singular silver ring that had your birthstone on it. Emerald. August. Your white converse were spick and span clean, unlike everyone else’s.

“Is this the-” You went to ask again, but froze when you seen everyone’s eyes on you. You clamped your mouth shut, looking at Eddie awkwardly.

“Sorry,” Eddie scratched the back of his head. “Here, we should- let’s get started then!” He announced, embarrassed that he was caught staring.

“Hey,” Dustin poked your shoulder, whispering quietly as everyone got in their seats. “You can sit by me if you want.”

“Actually, Henderson,” Eddie nearly shouted over his sheep, standing at the head of the table. “She’s sitting on the throne tonight.” He smiled widely, his teeth reflecting off the light as he patted the throne, scooting out the chair.

Everyone gasped at the sight. No one sat in that chair besides him.

He took your hand to help you into the seat, quickly looking over your delicate ring. His looked a lot bigger. It was weird for everyone to see Eddie sitting beside you, in just a regular chair, but you, however, looked spectacular.

“Wow,” You giggled, stretching your hands out in front of you. “All I need is a crown.”

They chorused your laughter like obedient followers. You were the ruler now. Eddie’s little dungeon master in training. “So,” You looked to him. “Let’s play.”

His lips curled into a slow smirk. Yeah, he was definitely in love.

•

You were there for almost five hours, and sleep deprivation creeped in, though you didn’t care. Dungeons and Dragons was the coolest game you’d played since twister, and that was years ago. You had gotten so into it, and everyone cheered you on as you got your feet wet into the game.

It was hard to learn at first, but they walked you through every step and made sure you understood everything. Eddie practically held your hand throughout the entire game, like a parent worried their toddler wouldn’t survive without their grip. It shocked him how easily you were able to catch on, and even though you made a mistake here and there, or mispronounced something, he wouldn’t correct you.

It had gotten to the point where you were subconsciously flirting with him, though you weren’t even really aware of it. He just made you so comfortable, and for once in your life, you didn’t feel the need to fake having a good time. Your life was hard, harder than others, sometimes. You felt guilty for thinking that, because you knew you were lucky to have the family you did. Still, even with the family you had, you felt incredibly lonely. Tonight you didn’t though.

“Do you have a way to get home?” Eddie glanced up, finishing putting away the game pieces. Everyone had pretty much left, besides you two. You insisted on staying and helping clean up, so that meant that he was going to stay. Dustin didn’t even try to get a word in, it was obvious Eddie wasn’t going to budge. He politely said goodbye, awkwardly patting your shoulder and sending knives to his buddy. Or, ex buddy.

“I drove.” You smiled, pushing in chairs. “I don’t live very far away.”

He nodded, mouth opening and closing as he thought about what to say. “Are you- well, you plan on sitting with us tomorrow?”

“Oh,” You gulped, blushing. “I’d like to, if that’s okay.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rushed, messing with his hair. “I like you. I mean, we like you. The kids and I. You’re pretty. Fun, you’re pretty fun!” He rambled, turning as he shoved the game box into a drawer.

You kept in your laugh, lips pursing together. “Okay.” You nodded, brushing off your hands. “Cool.”

You looked around for anymore trash, hoping to stay longer. “I guess I should go.” You grabbed your back, slinging it over your shoulder.

“Okay.” He walked over to the door, opening it for you. You stopped in front of him, and he smiled awkwardly. “Thank you for tonight.” You said genuinely, ignoring the urge to smile like an idiot. “I mean it, I had a lot of fun. You think I could play again sometime?”

His heart leaped, eyes growing into heart shapes like a damn cartoon character. “Yeah! Of course, sure. I’ll even get you a crown for next time.” He chuckled while you did the same.

You didn’t want to leave, and he didn’t want you too, either. You knew you’d die of embarrassment later, but you stepped closer, wrapping an arm around his shoulders in an awkward, yet sweet hug.

“Oh,” He muttered softly, stiffening at the contact. He brought up a hand to pat your back, pursing his lips.

You pulled away and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, Eddie.”

“Goodnight.” He smiled, closing the door behind you. He listened to the sound of your shoes until he couldn’t anymore, and he sighed loudly and dramatically.

“Yup, that’s my wife.”

#stranger things season four #eddie munson #stranger things #joseph quinn #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson x reader

[gggno]

THE  MUN

NAME: n/a NICKNAME:   jan, naj ( you can just ‘ hey ’ me tbh ) FACECLAIM:  if i get to pick im dimple from mp100 PRONOUNS:  she/her, they/them HEIGHT:  5′0 BIRTHDAY:   27 jan ( issoon ) AESTHETIC:   neon and pastel colour blocks LAST  SONG  YOU  LISTENED  TO:  GONG - 等我撒完野就陪妳走 FAVOURITE  MUSE(S)  YOU’VE  WRITTEN:  brett talbot ( since i was most consistently active on him but i’m always *explosive heart emojis* about my muses )

THE  MUSE

WHAT  INSPIRED  YOU  TO  TAKE  ON  THIS  MUSE: i wanted to try rp on tungle again and had too many muses i wanted to write, so i finally made a multi-muse. now i can shout about my ocs on here TOO!!!

WHAT  ARE  YOUR  FAVOURITE  ASPECTS  OF  YOUR  CURRENT  MUSE:  i love daozi bc i love women and i love chinese things i love how i get to write about MY culture and muse about those mythologies and all that. i love how i start making more ocs by developing her story. i love how she still wants to bring justice to wukong’s case even when wukong himself has given up. i love how she loves so freely and courageously.

WHAT’S  YOUR  BIGGEST  INSPIRATION  WHEN  IT  COMES  TO  WRITING:  songs help me muse a lot. i pick out character songs that help me grasp at visuals and moods and sometimes even arcs. yico tseng is my FAVOURITE artist i listen to her nonstop GONG is also a fave there’s also farer anyways just wanted to talk about them.

FAVOURITE  TYPES  OF  THREADS:  where two muses get to learn about each other through interaction. i love when muses react to situations, and the other pays attention and observes, picking up hints of who each other is as a person. what’s important to them? how do they act? why so? attention is the first step to love, and i LOVE it. when i talk about this i’m thinking about @shaltsteal​ bc papi knows my weakness too well... in her words ‘ learn each other’s love language ’ i’m LAME and SAPPY like that

BIGGEST  STRUGGLE  IN  REGARDS  TO  YOUR  CURRENT  MUSE:  my biggest struggle lies in my project s muses bc i don’t reach out enough and that’s on ME LMAO

tagged by: @jiangswanyin tagging:  @shaltsteal, @furieas​, @iramdie​, @scavengered​, @arborvitas​ you guys don’t gotta i just love you all

#thanks for tagging this gave me an excuse to run my mouth lmao #and man i can't wait to make my self indulgent oc edits #NOBODY SAW ME ADD TWO MORE NAMES!!!

[goldenkirstein]

somewhere only we know

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

chapter one: somewhere only we know

pairing: eventual jean x gn! reader, as of rn, mikasa ackerman x gn! platonic! reader

wc: 1192

tags: angst, MAJOR AOT CH 139 SPOILERS, major character death mention, mentions of death, mentions of violence. Reader is eldian, but no mention of physical attributes.

a/n: With the end of aot, I needed to write something to cope, this is not fluffy ahhh, but I wrote this while I was crying to this playlist by @alert-arlert (ty for the 10/10 playlist heh). This isn't exactly romance buttttt I don't think I'm done writing this tbh and want to explore that with any upcoming parts. This is also like my second piece of writing for anime and my first time writing something of this sorts lmao, any criticism or advice is appreciated.

next.

series masterlist

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You brushed the hair out of her face.

The past three years had not been easy ones. Not for anyone. The years had been especially unkind towards Mikasa Ackerman.

She stirred in her sleep. You always felt terrible disturbing her; she always looked so peaceful when she was asleep, crimson scarf wrapped around her, chest rising and falling. The withered and whorled bark of the ancient tree hardly being a comfortable resting for the young woman, and yet, the tranquil expression on her face could convince any wandering traveller that the tree was a worthy place to lay one’s worries to rest.

“Mikasa, it’s getting late. We should head back.” For almost every week, for the past three years, you would accompany the young Ackerman to visit the grave of her most beloved. On some days, you would sit with her, reminiscing of days long gone; on other days, the both of you would sit in silence, looking upon the vast fields, the view which once was obstructed by the imposing walls; a grim reminder of the events that transpired years prior. Occasionally, you would watch Mikasa from a distance, allowing her to spend time with her memories of Eren.

“Hm? Oh. Yeah, I suppose you’re right.” Mikasa stretched, looking towards the sky. You lent her a hand as she slowly got up. Giving you a tender smile, the young woman thanked you. The both of you began making your way down the hill, one of her hands clutching yours, the other grasping the wilted flowers she gathered from Eren’s resting spot.

You gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing it. “They’re all coming tomorrow. It’s been a while. Wonder if they all look the same.” You glanced down at your feet, the feeling of uncertainty rising in your chest.

The young woman smiled at your actions, “It has, though I’m sure they haven’t changed any more than we have. Knowing them, they would always stick out like sore thumbs, no matter where.”

You let out a faint chuckle, taking a deep breath in as both you and Mikasa approached the small lodgings in the distance. What she had said was true. It was inevitable that all of you would have changed. Turning your head, you observed the Ackerman; she had grown out her hair; the once blunt ends now neatly sat gathered over her shoulder. Mikasa had endured, more than most would have. You understood that. Eren’s actions weighed heavily on you as well, mentally and physically. Oftentimes, you would catch yourself looking at your reflection of a store window, confused as to who you were seeing. A weathered soldier? A traitor to their nation? An Eldian? A devil?

Maybe, Armin had grown his hair out again, like when you all were in the training corps. Were he and Annie together? Connie still hadn’t visited his mother, had he? Did Jean ever shave that excuse of a beard? Your eyebrows scrunched together, questions forming and disappearing in your head. You shook your head, smiling at the thought of your comrades, no, your dear friends, the ambassadors of peace. Did they manage to find a way to curb the threat of war?

Mikasa reached for the handle on the worn door, turning it and stepping inside to the cottage; she closed the door after you came inside and made her way to the washroom.

“It was a long day. I’m going to take a bath. Do you mind making some tea in the meantime?” You gave her a nod and turned to shrug off your cardigan, setting it on the small table by the house’s entrance. You tossed your head back, eyes landing on the grainy mahogany ceiling, your eyelids fluttered shut, and you heard the washroom door close, the sound of water filling the tub following shortly. Opening your eyes slowly, you lowered your head. Walking over to the kitchen, you filled a kettle with water, setting it up on the stove. Leaning back on the kitchen counter, you allowed your eyes to close once more.

You had come back to Paradis with Mikasa on that day.

It was sort of a haze for everyone mostly, the feeling that they had woken up from a long dream. You had thought it was the end of the line for you and your comrades, death inevitable as you were all turned into pure titans in a flash.

You remember seeing her emerge from the smoke clutching Eren's head in her arms, holding him close to her heart. The sight of his decapitated head contrasting the memory of him from just moments prior. He had been sitting with you, explaining why he did what he did, apologizing, sharing his regrets and saying his final goodbye.

Was this death? No, it couldn’t have been. Mikasa was there; she wasn’t dead, was she?

“I should go. If I stayed, Eren...He wouldn’t get a proper burial; they wouldn’t give him one.” Mikasa had come and sat next to you, whispering a goodbye before getting up to leave.

You jerked your head back, scrambling to stand up, stance wobbling, “Mikasa, wait! Where are you going?” She faltered in her step, turning around to face you once more; seeing Eren like this was still a harrowing sight.

“Paradis. It’s useless for me to keep fighting. I’m taking him home.”

“You can’t go by yourself! The Yeagerists would string you up in the square for doing what you did!” Eren Yeager was dead. Mikasa Ackerman had killed him. The Yeagerists would never let her live if they knew that. “I’m coming with you! I won’t- I can’t, lose any more people to this.”

Mikasa’s shoulder’s dropped, giving you a steely-eyed expression. “No. You will stay here with Armin, and he’s taking the blame for Eren. You can work out a plan with him and the others to save humanity.” Armin and the others? Were they alive?

Pivoting around, you saw the hoard of Eldians embracing one another in the distance. A gasp left your lips; you turned to face Mikasa, glassy-eyed, your chest heaving, overcome with relief.

“I’ll be fine. I played my part in this story; I want to go home. Please.” As much as you wanted to run and find Armin, Connie and Jean among the rest, you would never forgive yourself if you left her behind to play diplomat, as she suffered in silence with no one there to comfort her.

You stepped up to her, “Mikasa, I’ve always been by your side, haven’t I? You’re my family as I’m yours, and what kind of person would I be if I abandoned you now? Armin will be fine. He is plenty capable, and besides, who would take care of you?” She opened her mouth to object. You gave her arm a gentle squeeze. She averted her gaze, and she shut her mouth, opting for a curt nod.

And with that, you and the Ackerman girl made your way back to where it all began, your home. Paradis. You turned your head around one last time to watch those closest to you disappear from your sight.

a/n: I hope this was okay, if you liked this story and would like more parts please let me know !! as well as if you wanna see some other relationships blossom with the reader...jean is coming soon tho so yeah

Leave a like/reblog if you enjoyed reading this. I would appreciate it a lot <33

#attack on titan #aot #aot x reader #mikasa x reader #mikasa ackerman #mikasa ackerman x reader #aot angst #mikasa ackerman angst #mikasa ackerman imagine #aot imagines #snk #mikasa x y/n #aot scenario #aot chapter 139 #aot ch 139 #snk x reader #snk 139 #my writing #jean kirstein x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #idk if i should tag it as jean x reader but like thats where i wanna talk the story??? #jean x reader #jean kirschtien #jean kirstein #eren yeager #armin arlert #connie springer #annie leonhart

[uwuwriting]

Anger issues w/ Dabi, Bakugou and Aizawa

Request: I’m the type of person who doesn’t get angry very easily but when I do I’m really scary and people back off. Can I request Dabi, Bakugou and either Shiggy or Aizawa with a girlfriend who is just like that and the first time they see her angry they are so confused like how did their quiet s/o turn into the devil. Thank you. 

Lmao I’m like that as well. Big mood. People underestimate me and think they can walk all over me just because I’m polite. Bitch nah imma stab you in your sleep in 2-3 business days. Love ya.💖💖💖

masterlist

rules

warnings: cursing, some violence, threats *creative ones as well*

Dabi/Touya Todoroki 

-Baby was the equivalent of the pikachu meme. 

-You were both chillin at his place watching TV.

-Actually he was laying down, head in your lap as he played Among us on his phone while you changed channels in an attempt to find something interesting to watch. 

-As you were mindlessly zapping through the channels you stumbled upon an interview with none other than the number 1 hero, Endeavor himself. 

-Your finger froze over the channel button as you stared at the hero in front of you. 

-You felt Dabi stiffen in your lap, his character staying still on the screen as his father’s voice bounced off the walls of the small apartment. 

- “Doll could you change th-” 

- “I’m thinking of retiring, yes. My family is my top priority and I would like to spend some quality time with them. Family is very imp-”

- “Shut your clown ass up!”

-The remote went flying barely missing the TV as you launched it at the hero’s face. 

- “If I have to hear any more bullshit coming out of your mouth I will march to wherever you are and beat you to a fucking plump got it?” 

- “Babe he can’t hear you.”

- “I don’t give a shit! He will hear me when my hands are squeezing his WINDPIPE!”

-And with that you shot up from the couch, sending Dabi rolling to the floor in the process. 

-Marching out of the living room, he heard the door slam shut and then a muffled scream before the only sound was the words coming from the TV.

-He had whiplash after that. 

-He didn’t know what exactly happened but he was glad in some weird way. 

-He knows that you don’t get angry easily, hell he couldn’t get you to snap at him even when he tried his best. 

-Sure he irritates you but you have never actually snapped like this before. 

-Your calm and collected nature calms him down so seeing you curse and be so violent all of a sudden got him riled up. 

-Making his way to your shared room he opened the door finding you curled up on your bed with an angry expression on your face. 

-Nose scrunched up, mouth in a scowl and  brows furrowed. 

-Letting out a small chuckle he took his place behind you bringing his lanky arms around your waist as he turned you around,your nose barely grazing his, eyes burning holes in his chest.

-He brought his forefinger in between your brows and made small circles at the spot, watching as your facial expression relaxed a bit but the scowl was still there. 

- “Stop thinking about it you’ll get a headache.” 

- “I wanna punch him in the dick.”

- “I wanna do that too but it can wait.” 

-Kissing your forehead first he started trailing little pecks all over your face, being satisfied by the small giggles he could get out of you. 

-This is why I love you.

Bonus: 

- “That was the hottest thing I have seen.” 

- “You are getting dommed tonight, lover boy.” 

- *flustered burned boy*

Bakugou Katsuki 

-He is the one who is angry in your relationship.

-We’ve been new. 

-You are his damage control, you can always calm him down and put some sense into him. 

-Most of the time he listens to your every word. 

-So everyone assumed that since you put up with his shit without batting an eyelash, never showing a sign of anger, you can’t get angry. 

-That your anger was that little puff of your cheeks and scrunch of your nose that Bakugou adores. 

-No one has ever seen you angry so you don’t blame them. 

-But everyone has that one thing that just makes them snap *for me it’s Endeavor*

-You were training with class 1-B when that dickhead Monoma decided to fuck with your boyfriend. 

-They were fighting, throwing insults at each other non-stop when Monoma decided to be a dick. 

- “Why are you even in this class huh? You would be more useful to the villains. It would be so easy for you too, I bet you don’t need much of a push to join them, don’t you Bakugou.” 

-Bakugou may not like talking about it but you know. 

-The thoughts that haunt him. 

-He was kidnapped and saw his idol be brought down because the League believed that he would make a great entry to their group. 

-His own mind works against him sometimes, reminding him of the looks of fear most of the people in his life have when it comes to him. 

-He hates it. 

-What breaks him even more though is being reminded out loud about those thoughts. 

-Having them confirmed by someone else. 

-He had stopped dead in his tracks, staring at the other boy in pure horror when he saw a flash of color and Monoma was now laying face down a few feet away. 

-You were panting, hands clenched in fists as you stared at the boy in outer disgust, a vein popping on your forehead. 

-Bakugou was silent watching your shoulders frantically going up and down, pure rage emanating from your demeanor.

-In the blink of an eye you were on top of Monoma, lifting him off the ground, a snarl escaping your lips.

- “You fucking piece of shit I’ll fucking stab your parents if you say anything like that again!”

-Everyone was shooketh.

-Absolutely terrified but still shooketh.

-Monoma scrambled off the moment you let him go spewing apology after apology. 

- “Baby you okay?” 

-How the fuck was your voice back to normal? How was it so soft as if nothing happened? As if you didn’t just pin down and threaten someone. 

- “Y-Yeah I’m fine.”

-The class was afraid of you for the next four months. 

Bonus:

- “Baby, you got so fired up.”

- “No one talks shit about you!”

- “I know but wow that was hot.”

Aizawa Shouta 

-Shouta is used to the comments made about him. 

-People doubt him as both a hero and a teacher at times and he has learned not to let it get to him. 

-He believed that you had closed those comments off as well, you didn’t show any signs of them bothering you at least. 

-Sure you might make a small comment whenever you hear something but you never snapped at someone. 

-He knew that you prefered tranquility, it was his calm nature that attracted you in the first place *and the fact that he was smoking hot*.

-So when you actually snapped at someone he was taken aback and super turned on. 

-Like wow that woman right there giving someone a heart attack is his wife? 

-Wow.

-You were both at a hero conference, meeting up with some of your old colleagues to catch up and to get some insight in the hero industry. 

-Yall wanted the tea. 

-You two were attached to the hip, never leaving each  other's side as you enjoyed yourselves. 

-You were  chatting with a retired heroine who had helped you in the past when you heard murmuring coming from behind you. 

- “I heard that one of his students got kidnapped during the summer.” 

- “Of course he would let that happen, what could he possibly be a reliable individual? He was a delinquent and a vigilante, irresponsibility is in his blood.” 

-Shouta felt you stiffen as your gaze shadowed over.

 - “Kit- um Y/N?”

-The two continued dissing your husband and you tried to calm yourself down, you really did.

 -But they made it really really hard.

- “He went on live television and gave excuses for that whole ordeal.”

- “You think he was trying to pass the blame?”

- “Of course he was! He has no sense of dignity, leaving his students to fight while he slept and then letting one of them be kidnapped like that.”

-Now he started getting scared because your grip on his arm had tightened and you wouldn’t look at him. 

-He thought that you were having a panic attack and it's OUR panic attack so the convention would have to deal with two UA teachers breaking down.

-But then you let go and a sweet smile appeared on your face as you made your way to the duo.  

- “It comes from the bottom of my heart when I say that I need you to sit you maniac ass down and be quiet for the rest of the fucking night because don’t think I would hesitate to beat your punkass in front of all those people. If I hear Shouta’s name come out of your lips again I will personally make sure that you won’t be able to formulate words for the next five fucking months.”

-Not even a peep came out of those two for the rest of the evening, their eyes always darting between you and your husband, cold sweat running down their spines every time one of you made eye contact with them. 

- “Y/N, kitty, that wasn’t necessary.”

- “You talk shit you get wrecked, period.” 

Bonus: 

- “Come on Shouta we’re going home.” 

- “We’ve only been here for an hour, kit-”

- “You are either blowing my back out or staying here, choose.” 

- “Home it is.”

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[sugakoni]

single mom!reader (leon x f!reader)

PART 1 |

(a/n) sorry for the delay in this part. i have been really busy and super bleh because of my antidepressants, but tonight i finally feel like writing. this is part 2 of 5, and next part uhhh... might get a little spicy. don't say i didn't warn you lmao. - zee

word count: 1656

contains: angst to an extent

warnings: light swearing, fighting, panic attacks

paring: leon kennedy x fem!reader (single mother)

(feel free to leave requests!) (leon kennedy playlist)

story under the cut

Staggered breaths were heard inside the house, followed by a loud cough. The area of Spain you were in was surprisingly cold, and the cabin you were in wasn’t helping any, considering how run down it was. Your gun was in your hand, following behind Leon as you kept watch on anything that could happen behind the man.

Leon turned the corner, and you did the same. Seeing a man who was currently filling his fireplace with wood, poking and prodding at it in the mean time.You raised an eyebrow, keeping your gun in your hand as Leon cleared his throat.

“Excuse me, sir, I am Leon Kennedy. I was wondering if you have seen this girl.”

The man turned back at him, speaking in Spanish in a very angry manner. You pursed your lips together, Leon giving you a shrug.

“Leon! Look out!” You yelled, firing your gun at the man who rose an axe towards your partner. You shot at his head multiple times, before he finally fell to the ground. Noises were heard outside, and Leon took it upon himself to look out through the window. You let out a breath that you didn’t even realize you were holding, before looking out the window with Leon and seeing a lot more people.

“Shit,” Leon muttered, making sure his gun was loaded before pushing you to go towards the stairs.

“I know what I’m doing, Kennedy,” you sassed, going up the stairs quickly with him following behind. He let out a huff, grabbing a few things of ammo that he found in drawers and handing it to you. You put them into your bag, shaking your head as you found some herbs. The sound of a door breaking down was heard downstairs, which caused your eyes to widen.

“There!” You called out, pointing at the window.

“Good eye,” Leon replied, going to jump out. You bit at your lip, hearing the villagers walking around downstairs before you eventually jumped down yourself, being caught by Leon. You let out a cough, Leon having a shit eating grin on his face before you pulled your gun out and shot 3 villagers behind him.

The blonde placed you back down on the ground, starting to run farther away from the village people. You sighed quietly to yourself, following behind as per usual. You knew something was up here, not normal, and just like Raccoon City.

You put Raccoon City in the back of your mind as Hunnigan called Leon, and you stood to the side listening through your ear piece. You kicked at some rocks, thinking about your son and what he could be doing at home. A huff left Leon’s mouth, ending the call with Hunnigan.

“Ashley is around here somewhere,” Leon spoke out, putting an end to your thoughts. You looked over at him, giving him a nod.

“No shit.”

“Hey, I know you have something going on, but that attitude of your’s needs to leave,” Leon snapped, running a hand through his hair. You raised an eyebrow.

“MY attitude? I am so sorry that I had to leave my nine year old son behind to go on a mission to find the President’s dumbass daughter!” You exclaimed, to which he rolled his eyes. The stress the two of you had from your recent encounters was prominent in this conversation, and you put your hands up slightly.

“You know what. You’re right. Sorry for making you upset, Kennedy,” You spoke sarcastically, walking away from the other. Leon’s jaw clenched, following behind you and grabbing your wrist, turning you to face him.

“Stop being a brat.”

“You’re being the brat,” You seethed, shaking his grip off of you as you head towards another cabin. Leon sighed, knowing he messed up by snapping at you. The two of you trekked to the cabin ahead, opening the door and looking around.

“Here,” you spoke, going to move something out of the way of a doorway. Leon gave a nod, going into a room and hearing commotion in the wardrobe in the corner. You followed after grabbing things in the other room, seeing Leon opening the wardrobe door.

All of a sudden, you felt immense pressure in your head and the whole world went black.

-----------

The smell of rotting walls is what awoke you. Pain shot through your head, wrists bound behind you. Your eyes fluttered open, seeing two men in front of you. The one Leon was tied up to was unfamiliar, but he must’ve been in that wardrobe Leon opened up.

“Leon?” You called out. He seemed to have been in the middle of a conversation with the man he was tied up to, showing him the picture of Ashley.

“Y/n, are you alright?” Leon asked, to which you gave a slight nod. Luis looked over to you.

“Ah, senorita, they must’ve hit you hard,” he spoke out, giving a sympathetic smile. You gave a nod again, not feeling up to talking as the pain in your head was searing. Leon sighed to himself, putting the photo of Ashley back into his pocket. You must’ve missed a bit of their conversation.

Loud footsteps were heard outside, which caused you to snap your head up. You saw a giant man walk in. Your eyes felt a bit heavy, desperately trying to keep them open before you slipped off into another slumber.

Snapping awake, you felt something warm pressed against your right arm. Your eyes were wide, sweat sticking to your skin as you looked up at the person who held you. Leon.

You still felt angry at him, but you decided to put that in the back of your head. He looked down at you, hearing your ragged breathing.

“Hey, sleepy head. I have been carrying you around for what feels like ages,” he murmured, placing you back down again. You sighed, rubbing the back of your head.

“I’m sorry… I just feel so sick,” you muttered, before tears started to stain your cheeks. You were tired, and you didn’t know why. And you felt out of touch with reality. Leon’s concern grew for you.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” He asked, rubbing your back. You shook as you cried, falling to your knees.

Panic rose in you, thinking about how you woke up some when you were held captive and something being put into your neck. You immediately looked up at Leon.

“They put something in me,” you expressed, starting to feel yourself become sick.

“Y/n, I am sure you’re fine-”

“Fine?! How can I be fine?! What if I turn into one of them?!” You screamed at him, covering your face afterwards. You thought about Adrian, and how he would potentially have to grow up without his mommy. He was already growing up without a father figure, you couldn’t imagine having him lose you now. You looked down, opening your locket as your breathing was labored. You couldn’t stop the panic, but you could calm down your tears. The adrenaline was already pumping hard through your veins, as you shakily touched the face of your son, and glanced towards the face of your late boyfriend.

“Who is that?” Leon asked, looking down at the locket. You glanced up, his face had softened.

“My late boyfriend… he… he turned into one of those monsters in Raccoon City… right in front of me and Adrian,” you mumbled, closing it. Leon frowned, helping you up from the ground. You composed yourself quickly, starting to go the way you assumed you were to go.

-------------

The plane you were in was whirring loudly, about to take off. You were currently sitting in front of Ashley Graham and the President, with Leon right beside you. Your mission was a success, but the trauma that both you and Leon had experienced on the way was enough to make you never want to work for the government again. But, this is all you had.

The President got up from his seat, walking towards the front of the plane. You looked at Ashley, who was currently looking at Leon in a loving way. A pit formed in your stomach, and you didn’t know if it was jealousy. You looked out the window, seeing the ocean, and clouds… and more ocean.

Unbeknownst to you, but known to Ashley, Leon was looking at you the same way Ashley was looking at him. He didn’t know why, but he felt even more attracted to you after the events you two had endured. You knew that it would be a few days until you could see your son, since you have to give information to your agency and other government officials, but at the end of the day, your son was now your number one priority again.

“Why her?” Ashley spoke out, her eyes going wide as both you and Leon looked at her. Her face flushed to a bright red color, before she excused herself, going to wherever her father was.

“What was that for?” You mumbled, playing with your hands. You looked over at Leon, smiling a bit as you felt your heart swell up.

“I don’t know… but at least she is gone, her staring was getting annoying,” Leon chuckled, which caused you to giggle. You bit at your lip, seeing his hand on the armrest. You moved your smaller one to lay on top of it, your fingers intertwining.

“Thank you,” You whispered, “for getting me back safe.”

“I made a promise, didn’t I? How about we celebrate tonight, everything on me,” Leon said smugly, which caused you to blush.

“Yeah, yeah lover-boy… I’ll give you a chance,” You said with a grin, looking back out the window and taking your hand away from his. You missed the warmth, but you didn’t want to deal with Ashley’s whining.

Maybe staying away from home for a few more days wouldn’t be so bad...

tag list:

@cicatraize

#leon kennedy xreader #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy angst #resident evil #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil 6 #resident evil infinite darkness #resident evil damnation #resident evil degeneration #resident evil vendetta #resident evil village #resident evil biohazard #short stories

[navalcriminalimagines]

from NYC to DC

request: I was hoping to request a Barbra x reader where the reader and him have a really bad break up (honey make it angst asf I’m in the mood for that atm lmao don’t know why ) and they transfer because of it to NCIS (ouuuu cross over ) and they are happy and with her son/daughter.

author’s note: anon, again, thank you for your request!!! i hope you’ll have as much fun as i had writing this! that’s definitely not how i pictured it at first but inspo kept coming along the way!! maybe... just maybe, if you guys want it, i could make this a series... if you’re interested :) 

words: 4,840

warnings: making out, slight smut, betray, cheating

tags: @averyhotchner​

6 weeks.

6 weeks since you and your husband hasn’t been intimate. And it was way too long for you.

You and Rafael had been together for almost 9 years, married for 5, with a 4 years old little boy. Your record with any sexual activity was 3 months and to be fair, it was after you gave birth to Eduardo.

It’s been 6 weeks now, you had no idea why and you couldn’t wait another day. When you arrived at the office, you let your boss know you were taking your afternoon off. There’s nothing your team can’t take care of, so he agreed.

Right after, you texted your mother-in-law Lucia, asking her if she could take Edu for the night, maybe until Sunday. The plan was not to leave the bed and your husband’s naked body until you had to.

Before going home, you stopped to buy some lingerie. Tonight needs to be perfect, and what’s better than surprising your husband with new spicy lingerie?

You spent the afternoon cleaning the apartment, cooking Rafael’s favorite Cuban dish and preparing yourself. You looked at yourself in the mirror, with the lingerie on, wondering if you were the problem. Is he not attracted to you anymore? Obviously your body changed after you gave birth, but it never seemed to bother him before. Why now? Rafael never left you this long without touching and kissing your body, letting you know how much he loves you and wants you. Why doesn’t he do that anymore? What’s wrong with you?

A bit before 6, you texted your husband, asking what time he’s coming home. That’s something you often do, so there would be no surprise there.

Dunno, 8 maybe. He answered. But you couldn’t until 8.

Edu’s asking for you... could you make it for dinner? You sent.

Sure :)

Perfect. You made last minute prep before he got there. You curled your long hair just like he loves it, you only had mascara on, to make your blue eyes look bigger. You heard him coming home and looked at yourself one last time in the mirror. If nothing happens, something’s really wrong, you told yourself.

Rafael had a confused look on his face. His son was nowhere to find, the apartment smelled like ropa vieja. Candles were lit, and a bottle of wine was waiting on the coffee table. “Y/N?” He called.

“Hey handsome!” You emerged from the hallway, with a smile on your face. You looked gorgeous. You had Rafael’s favorite green dress on, his heart sunk. He stopped breathing for a moment.

“Wait, what day it is?” He asked.

“No particular day, Raf, don’t worry,” you chuckled and walked to him. “Just want a nice night with my husband,” you put your arms his neck and kissed him softly.

“Love the sound of that,” he smiled. “Love the smell too,” he kissed you again.

“I made your favorite,”

He laughed, “I wasn’t talking about the food. Although it does smell good. But I meant your scent,” Rafael gently kissed your shoulder and you heard him breath in your scent, “Victoria’s Secret bare vanilla,” he said, with his head hide in your neck.

“Oh! Talk dirty to me,” you chuckled. When he emerged from your neck, you took a moment to look at him, at his face, his eyes, his mouth... “I miss you, Raf,”

His eyebrows clenched together. “I’m here, amor. Always been,” he said.

“I know. I-it’s just—“ you shook your head, “Nevermind. Wine?” You offered and he nodded.

The night began well. You had small talks over dinner, Rafael enjoyed the dish you made. “It gets better every time,” he told you. But things went south pretty quickly when you took him to the bedroom. You made him sit on the edge of the bed and started to undress in front of him. “¡Coño!” You heard him. You smiled and continued the show until you were in your lingerie. “New?” He asked and you nodded.

“You’re gorgeous,” he said. He sat on his lap and started to kiss him deeply. You felt his hands on your body and gosh how you missed his touch and his kisses.

You couldn’t feel his crotch growing between your legs. You didn’t think further about it first, and you laid him down on the bed. You unhooked his belt, undid his button and put his pants down. You softly touched him through the fabric, waiting for his cock to react. Still nothing. Rafael wasn’t looking at you anymore, he was focused on the ceiling, as if he was wanting for this to be over.

“You okay over there?” You asked, a bit worried.

“Yeah, yeah. Keep going,” he answered.

You did as he said. You freed his cock and went to suck him. You did everything you usually do but nothing. There was no reaction. “Rafael? Something’s wrong?” You were already frustrated and it was getting worse.

“Lo siento, amor. I don’t know what’s happening,” Rafael sat back on the bed and put his boxer brief back on. He had a very sad look on the bed. You were lost. Is he really not attracted to you anymore? You sat in front of him, held his hand and tried to avoid the tears that were threatening to come out.

“Talk to him, my love. Do you not want me anymore?” You asked.

“No! Of course not! I do,” he interjected.

“I want to believe you but—your body says otherwise,” you said. “It never happened before, no matter how exhausted you were,”

He sighed but stayed silent. You saw a single tear running down his cheek. You closed the gap between you and your husband and hugged him. Rafael had his face buried in your chest, and you felt he was crying. “Baby, tell me what’s going on, please,” you begged.

“I’m so sorry, amor,” he cried, “so sorry,” he repeated.

“What for? Tell me,” you softly grabbed his face in your hand and forced him to look at you. “What are you sorry for?” You asked again. Still crying, he opened his mouth to talk but closed it immediately. “Rafael, please,” you begged again.

“It meant nothing, Y/N. It was a stupid mistake, one terribly stupid mistake and I feel so bad,” understanding what it was trying to tell you, you let go off his hands, taking an inch away from him. Disgust was obvious on your face. But you couldn’t say anything, this can’t be true. It can’t be happening. “Amor, I swear—“

“Shut up!” You exclaimed. There was so many things going through your mind at this very moment, you didn’t even know where to begin. Your heart was beating so fast, you swore it was coming out off your chest. Rafael tried to grab your hands but you swapped them away.

“Who?” You choked up.

“Does it matter?”

You stood up and started to put your clothes back on. “You bet your ass it does! I wanna know who that bitch is! You’ll take care of your case later! But don’t put your hopes high, you ruined our fucking marriage!”

“No, no!” Rafael interjected and jumped from the bed. He grabbed your arms to stop you from putting a sweater on. Your whole body was shaking from anger. Rafael saw something in your eyes he never saw before. Indeed, he knew he ruined the relationship. “There’s a way I can make you forgive me. It has to. We can’t—“

“We can’t what, Rafael?” You snapped. “End our relationship? Destroy our marriage, our family? I believe that’s what you did!” You pushed him aside so you could walk out of the bedroom. Rafael briefly lost his balance and found himself on the bed but he immediately went back on his feet and followed you. He grabbed you by your waist, preventing you from going further. He didn’t have time to say something, “I can’t believe I’ve been so stupid!” You weren’t really talking to your husband, but more letting your anger out, “Here I was, trying to understand what was happening. Asking myself why we didn’t have sex for weeks, thinking it was maybe my fault, that something was wrong with me, or with my body— I spent the entire afternoon preparing this night, so we could find each other again, so that it was just us. Just you and me—“ Rafael was holding you from behind, you didn’t have the strength to fight his grip. You were both crying, “I can’t believe you did this, Rafael. And for what? To empty your fucking balls?”

“I know I have no excuses,” Rafael had buried his head in your back, still holding you. He didn’t want to let go off you. He was scared that if he let you go, you would never come back. Maybe he was onto something. “I don’t know why I did it. I want to say it was because of alcohol, because I had a few drinks but, it doesn’t change anything, I know it,”

“You damn right it doesn’t,” you said, still crying. His hands were locked in your front, you took a look at his wedding band. How could he ruin your vows? Your promises?

“Please, amor,” this made you lose it. Being a federal agent makes you much stronger than him, so you didn’t struggle to get out off his arms.

“Do not ‘amor’ me, Rafael. You lost that right. You lost when you fucked that bitch. Hell, you lost it when your lips—“ you couldn’t finish your sentence. That thought of him with someone else makes you sick in your stomach. Rafael could see it on your face.

“I will do anything to make you forgive me, Y/N. I swear—“ he paused. “do you want me to get on my knees and beg for your forgiveness? Cause I’ll do it,” you saw him starting to kneel.

“Don’t even—“ you warned him and he stopped on his tracks. “We’ve been together for almost 10 years and you know me better than anyone. You know that cheating is a deal breaker,”

“Yes, I do. But—“ he tried.

“There’s no ‘but’, Rafael. I will never trust you again. I will never be able to look at you, to—kiss you or do anything, without thinking of what you did,”

“What does that mean?” He had this terribly sad look on his face, as if the world was ending. But it’s all on him. You can’t feel guilty about what you’re going to say.

“It’s over. We’re done,”

Rafael did beg for several minutes. At some point, he was getting so weak from the cries and the pain, he fell on his knees and held onto your waist. He apologized too many times you could count, he made promises, offers. He was willing to do anything so you could forgive him. But you couldn’t. Not now, not ever.

Neither of you slept that night. You couldn’t even look at him anymore. You didn’t know where to go, or what to do but you needed some fresh air. “Where you going?” Rafael asked when he saw you putting on your shoes.

“None of your damn business,” you slammed the door behind you.

After that, it all happened quickly. You did your best not to alarm your son but he noticed he wasn’t seeing his parents together anymore. You spent half your time at your best friend’s place. You focused on your job and your son, doing your best to avoid Rafael.

There was one thing you needed to know; who he cheated on you with. It didn’t take you long to figure out it was his coworker Olivia Benson. Rafael and you always made important not to mix professional and personal life, which is why you only met her a few times.

One night, you waited for her next to her car. You didn’t care she was a Lieutenant, and that you were in front of her precinct, just like you didn’t care when you saw that she wasn’t alone. Sonny Carisi was walking her to her car when you emerged from the dark.

“Mrs Barba, hey!” The detective greeted you, “if you’re looking for your husband, he’s not here. Also, what’s wrong with him lately? He’s been more annoying than usual,” he smiled.

“You’re about to find out, detective,” on those words, you didn’t think twice before throwing a punch right into Olivia’s jaw and nose. It put all your strength in it, she lost her balance and thankfully for her, Sonny caught her. Was he supposed to arrest you? What was happening? “Next time you want to screw up with an ADA, chose a single one. But don’t worry now, he fucking is,” you just said and left.

“Lieu, what do I—?” Sonny asked, confused.

“Let her go, Carisi,” Olivia answered, holding her bloody nose, “You better not say a single word about this. To anyone,”

“How’s my favorite New Yorker agent?” Tobias Fornell greeted you with a hug. All the people you work with notice that something was wrong but no one dared to ask. You met Tobias a few years ago on the job, you immediately hit it off and he became a close friend. So close that it’s in his arms that you let go your pain, and cried every tear you had left. “Not so great, apparently,” he whispered. Fornell let you cry and calm down in his arms. “Wanna talk about it?”

You explained everything during a coffee break. A part of him wanted to go find and beat the crap out of Rafael. He probably would have done it if you didn’t have a little boy with him. Edu doesn’t deserve to see his father with cuts and bruises.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked.

“I have no idea. I need some time away from New York I think. Everything here makes me thing of him and I—I can’t deal with it,”

“Will ‘some time away’ be enough? I mean—if you’re up for a big change, NCIS team is one man down,”

At first, you refused. You weren’t ready for a change that big... until you broke into tears in front of a theater on Broadway, where Rafael took you for your first date. You couldn’t stay in New York. So you called Tobias and asked if NCIS had found someone. They hadn’t.

Since the breakup, you just dropped Eduardo in front of the apartment’s door, waited for Rafael to open and immediately left. This time you got in, to your husband’s surprise. His hopes went straight back up. You asked your son to go into his bedroom for a moment so you could talk with Rafael.

“How are you?” He asked, not sure it was the right move.

“Let’s not do that. I just want to let you know I’m moving to DC. With Edu—“

“Wait, what? No, there’s no—“

“I’m not asking for your permission, Rafael. I’m telling you. You’ll see your son every time you want to, DC is just a 3 hours train ride, okay? I can’t stay here. Not only you ruined our marriage, our family but you also ruined New York for me,”

“I—I can understand that, Y/N. But DC? Can’t you move somewhere I can see my son right after work if I want to?”

“Work opportunity,” you answered.

“What if I want him to stay here with me? And that you’re the one to comes on weekend to see him?” Rafael was on papa bear mode. He starts to understand you won’t ever forgive him, and he’s willing to accept it, no matter how bad it hurts. It’s all on him. But taking his son away? That’s a total different thing.

“If that’s what you want, hire a fucking lawyer. I’m leaving next week,”

Before you left the apartment you and Rafael shared for years, the apartment where Edu spent the first four years of his life, you did something that broke his heart for good. You left your wedding band on the coffee table.

* * *

Fornell welcomed you and your son in his house until you found a place of your own. You had a babysitter on demand with Emily. Eduardo likes her a lot already.

“Who is she again?” Tony asked his boss.

“A friend of Fornell. She was a FBI agent in New York, and now she’s with us,”

“You owned him something?” 

Tony quickly regretted judging you without meeting you first. He didn’t like the idea of a complete stranger joining the team, but a few hours after your arrival, he knew he was wrong. You are lovable and you know your job. “Let’s go downstairs so you can meet Abby, Ducky and Palmer,” Gibbs told you and you followed him. Never in the world you had such a warm welcoming as the one Abby gave you. “I made this for you,” she offered you a sweater, “And Fornell told me your son loves to play to dress up, so I made him--this,” she showed off a dress that looked a little gothie. “It was one of my dress that I don’t wear anymore. I made a few adjustments and hopefully, it will suit--Eduardo?” 

“Yes, but everybody calls him Edu. When I call him Eduardo, he knows it’s trouble,” you chuckled and took the dress from her, “He is going to love it! Thank you so much, Abigail, you didn’t have too,” 

“Wow, she called me Abigail,” she said, looking at Gibbs. “Only Ducky does. But I can get used to it, coming from you too,” she smiled. 

The next day you showed her a picture of Edu wearing the dress. Indeed he was loving it, he asked to sleep with it. 

As you were looking for apartment, you realized you could actually make a dream of yours come true and buy a house. Your own house. New York didn’t give this opportunity. The houses the city had to offer didn’t look like real houses to you, that’s why you agreed with Rafael on buying an apartment on Park Avenue. But this was a new life. This is the time. You started to settle up, to know how much you could loan to the bank. Considering you had to buy every fourniture, a new car, and have something to eat in the fridge, it appeared impossible. For a moment you regretted no asking for an alimony and you growled at yourself.

“Everything okay over there?” you heard Gibbs asking from his desk. It was 9pm and you and him were the only ones left.

“Why are property prices so high?” you asked and you heard him chuckle.

“That’s why I’m glad I bought my house years ago,” Gibbs stood up and walked up to your desk. “Want to buy a place?” 

“I thought it could be the time, but when I see the prices, everything I have to buy and my salary--it doesn’t match,” 

“No alimony?” 

“Hell no. Rafael wanted to, at least for Edu, but I told him that if he wants to give money to his son, he can do it when he’s visiting and put it on his bank account,” 

“Your 4 years old has a bank account?” Gibbs smiled.

“For when he’ll be older, yeah. We never know what can happened,” 

Your boss took a quick look at your computer, “What about that house?” he said. You were looking for houses on sell online, you stopped on a house. Not for what it looked like but for the price.

“It’s a smoking ruin, Gibbs. I clicked on it because that’s the best I can actually pay for,” you showed him the pictures of the house. 

“With some handy work, we can make something of it,” he said.

“We?” 

“You, me, Fornell, and probably the rest of the team if you ask them,”

“That ain’t gonna happen,” 

Turns out, the next day when you arrived in the bullpen, everyone was there, looking at the screen. “’Grab your gear’?” you said, approaching your fairly new team. 

“More like ‘buy the house’,” Abby interjected. You understood and shoot a glare at your boss, who was smiling. “So--all the wood works definitely go to Gibbs, Bishop said she’s good with the painting. McGee and I can do the floors,” 

“I can take care of the bathroom, I redid ours,” Jimmy spoke up. 

“Autopsy gremlin--that’s very unexpected,” 

You watched them talking about the house for a moment. Your new team was planning to spend many weekends working a house you haven’t buy yet. Who are those people? You only met them weeks ago, and they are acting like...a family. That thought brought so many feelings inside you. You excused yourself and ran to the ladies room. “I got it,” Gibbs said the team and joined you. Thankfully there was no lady in there. You were crying over the sink and Gibbs gently took your hand and brought you in his arms. 

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” he asked. 

“That--what’s happening over there. It’s wrong,” 

“Gonna need a little more info,” 

You rise from his arms and looked at him, “There’s no way all of you are ruining your days off to help me,” 

“We want to,” he spoke for everyone.

“But--why? Why would you do that?” 

“Because that’s what families do, Y/N. Simple as that,” you looked down at your first, trying not to cry again.

“Rafael has been my only family, ever,” you confessed. 

“Figured that out. Let us become your new family,” 

You nodded, unsure of what is actually meant. “Damn you for reading my file,” Gibbs chuckled and invited you to go back to the team. 

After many appointments for weeks, the house was finally yours. And on the team’s first day off after you got the keys, everyone showed up in used clothes. “Let’s get dirty!” Abby exclaimed, getting in your house. It was yours. That’s something you never thought would happen. Especially after the past months. 

Ducky became the boss on that project. He made to-do lists and assigned the missions. Gibbs was in charge of the wooden floors, Bishop and Abby went painting upstairs. As he said, Jimmy assigned himself to the bathroom. Tony and McGee worked on the minor repairs, and you were the floating agent. Going where you were needed. 

In the afternoon, Tobias showed up with Emily and Edu. Your son was wearing a overalls with doc martens and a baseball cap above his long dark hair. His fashion choices never stop to amaze you. “Mami!” he jumped into your arms. “Is it done yet?” he asked, excitingly. 

“Oh no, baby! I told you we still have to stay with uncle Toby and Em for a while,” 

You never had someone close enough to you and your son so that Edu would actually call them “Uncle” or “Aunt”. Now that’s what he’s doing with the entire team. “Can I see my bedroom?” 

You took him upstairs to his future bedroom. Ellie and Abby were painting the walls. “Edu! I love your overalls,” Abby exclaimed.

“I love yours aunt Abby,” 

“Wanna help the girls, baby?” you offered and Edu happily accepted. You went downstairs, helping Gibbs with the floor and your son stayed with your coworkers. 

“I don’t want my room to be white!” 

“Oh don’t worry, sweetie! We have to paint it white first and then you’ll choose the colors you want,” Bishop told Edu.

“Purple and green,” 

“That’s an interesting mix,” Abby smiled.

“Mamiiii!” Edu came running to you, “I’m gonna have a disney wall in my room!” 

“What?!” 

“Aunt Ellie said so,” 

You looked at Bishop who was standing right behind and she explained that she has a friend that will do it. For free. How amazing are those people. 

For weeks, the entire team spent at least all their sundays working in the house. It was going really well. The house was becoming a home. Your home. Yours and your son. The guys were building the furniture you had already bought, Gibbs was taking care of the kitchen with Tobias, Jimmy was still working on the bathroom with Ducky’s help and Ellie and Abby was taking care of the final touches. Edu was having fun with Emily in the backyard. 

“Phone!” everyone heard Gibbs shouting. All the phones were on the kitchen counter and Tobias checked the one that was ringing. When he saw “Rafael” written on it, he called for you. You answered and went on the porch in front the house. 

“Mami and I just arrived in DC, we’re staying for the weekend. Can I pick up Edu?” Rafael asked over the phone.

“I--yeah sure. I’m sending you the address,” 

You and Rafael only talk for your son. Edu told him you have a new house but Rafael doesn’t know you actually bought it. Your husband hears a lot about the team, Edu is fond of them. On one side, he likes that Edu is enjoying living in DC and the other side, he hates it. He wishes you and his son would come back. That you would forgive him from cheating on you. 

For several weeks after you left, Rafael considered moving to DC too. To be close to his son obviously but also hoping it would make you change your mind, or at least realized he’s willing to do anything for you. But he came to the conclusion it was a bad idea. You moved to get away from him, he had to respect that. 

Rafael and Lucia arrived in front of your house. You noticed the car through the window and told Edu his father was there. The little boy ran from the backyard to his father and his grandmother. “I miss you so much, cariño,” Rafael said, holding his son tight. 

You went out of the house to greet your ex mother-in-law, “Hola mija, it’s good to see you,” she said. You hadn’t seen her since you left DC months ago. 

“Papi, I have a disney wall in my room! Wanna see it?” 

Rafael looked at you for approval and you gave it. The four of you walked inside the house. The first people Rafael saw, were Tony and Tim. Tony had his thumb in his mouth, “What the hell did you do DiNozzo?” you asked.

“He took his thumb for the screw,” Tim laughed and so did Edu.

“Oh, you think it’s funny, little cubano?” Tony told your son, playfully. 

“Uh-oh,” you heard Edu say. He knew he was in trouble. He started to run in the house, chased by Tony. “Sorry,” you mouthed to Rafael, who stayed silent. What the hell did he do? Not only he lost you but you changed, and his son too. He lost his family, for good. He watched his boy getting grab by a man with silver hair. The guy gave a gentle kick to the one that was chasing Edu. 

“Thank you uncle Gibbs,” 

“Always, my bud,” 

Being his over dramatic self, Tony was on the floor, holding his stomach. “Boss has a new favorite, I’m gonna die,” 

“Cause you thought you once were my favorite?” Gibbs snapped. 

“Bye cruel world,” Tony said, holding his chest and pretending to die. Edu took advantages of it and jumped on the italian agent. “Okay, I’m alive again,” 

You and Rafael were watching them until you felt his hand on your arm. You looked at him, “Can we talk outside, por favor?” he asked. You told Lucia to sit on a chair and you joined Rafael on the porch’s stairs. “You look good,” he started to say. “Not just physically. You look like you’re in a good place with your life,”

“I am,” you agreed. 

“I’m glad. If you’re happy, I’m happy,” 

“Go to the point, Rafael,” 

“I’m dating Olivia,” he confessed. 

“Son of a--” you exclaimed but realized the house’s door was open. “Are you fucking serious, right now?” 

“Why do you care? Which one are you dating? ‘Uncle Tony’? ‘Uncle Tim’? ‘Uncle Gibbs’? Huh?” 

You were furious. For many reasons. He was dating someone before you even did, and moreover, it’s the woman he cheated on you with. That’s the ultimate betrayal to you. 

“One second,” you showed your finger in the air and went back inside the house. You came back a moment later, followed by Gibbs. You dragged him outside the house and stood right in front of Rafael. You took a breath and kissed Gibbs. All teeth and tongues. Right under your husband’s eyes. Your boss definitely didn’t fight you. He actually deepen the kiss, holding you by your waist, making your body arch. 

Tony was the first to see it - of course - and he called Tim. They were like kids watching their dad kissing the new beautiful woman of the neighborhood. You and Gibbs broke apart when you heard Rafael calling for Eduardo. 

“We will definitely talk about that later,” Gibbs told you.

#ncis x svu #ncis x svu crossover #ncis imagine #ncis #ncis fanfiction #ncis fiction #ncis fandom #law and order svu #Law and Order: Special Victims Unit #law and order special victims unit #rafael barba #rafael barba fanfic #rafael barba fic #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #sonny carisi #Olivia Benson #Leroy Jethro Gibbs #jethro gibbs #jethro gibbs x reader #leroy jethro gibbs x reader #jethro gibbs imagine #tony dinozzo #Tim McGee #abby sciuto #ellie bishop #ducky mallard #jimmy palmer #lucia barba

[rogue-durin-16]

THINGS NEVER GO AS PLANNED (Part I/VII)

"sleepless nights"

Summary: After Fred's death, George and Y/n lean on each other to carry on. This wasn't the most brilliant idea, though; George was pretty much in love with the girl, and Y/n— well, she had been dating Fred prior to the Battle of Hogwarts.

Pairing: George Weasley x Reader

Genre: angst

Tags:

Suggested by: @crispykittywitch

Things never go as planned: @sarcasticallywitty15 @beautyschoo1dropout @s1ut4georgeweasley @leovaldez37 @missmulti @weasleywh0r3s

Permanent taglist: @elia-the-bibliophile @randomparanoid @karlthecat15722 @thebutchersdaughtersblog

Warnings: grief, nightmares, implicit PTSD

A/N: this is kind of... Fluffy(?) Somehow lmao. This story is based off this convo and these headcanons. If you wanna be tagged in the next parts tell me, and enjoy <3

Prologue: the aftermath

Part II: candy floss

Part III: shock therapy

Part IV: wrong name

Part V: the perfect excuse

Part VI: the downfall

Part VII: apart

Epilogue: I still love you

Rogue-durin-16 masterlist

The first night I thought I was hallucinating; it wouldn't be the first time since the Battle that I had imagined someone was wandering around the flat.

The second night I was dubious.

The third night I was completely sure George was, in fact, staying awake.

So, when, during the fourth night, I heard him pass by my door for the nth time in two hours, I left the comfort of my soft blankets and stepped towards the door.

"What on earth are you doing?" George, who was already walking away in the living room's direction, jumped at my whispering.

He took a hand to his chest, shut his eyes and breathed deeply. "Are you trying to give me a heart attack, woman?" He leaned against the wall, his eyes still closed.

"Alright, sorry." I apologised. We kept whispering as if someone was sleeping in our house. "It's just— are you getting any sleep?"

His brown eyes finally opened, and as he stared into mines, I knew he, despite wanting to do so, couldn't find the strength to lie.

"I can't go near my room." He confessed, one of his hands running through his locks as his eyes welled up. "I— I tried, I just—" another deep breath, this one shaky.

I reached out to him from my door frame. The hallway wasn't that large, anyway; he only needed to slightly extend his arm and he would be able to touch my fingertips.

George looked at my palm hesitant, as if he didn't dare to hold it. "C'mon, I can't have you haunting our home for another night." With a resigned sigh, he finally took my hand, and I swiftly tugged him towards me, leading him into my room and closing the door behind us.

My dorm had a different atmosphere, and George felt it right away. Maybe it was because the room was certainly not the twins' making, or maybe because it was the furthest from Fred's, but in my room the air was less oppressive; it somehow felt comforting and homely.

I sat George down on the edge of my bed and took a proper look at him; his eyes were puffy and his nose red, but he was livid. I let my hand travel to his cheek, and he unconsciously leaned on it.

"I'm gonna go for a glass of water." I informed him, my fingertips wiping a tear that had spilled and was running down his face. "And I'll get your bags on my way."

"You don't have to." He muttered.

"Yeah, I have to, because you're not sleeping on this." I tugged on his overused shirt's collar. "Do me a favor; get a blanket from under the bed and place it on the divan." He nodded and complied, getting up as soon as I left the room.

GEORGE'S P. O. V.

I rubbed my eyes with my index finger and thumb whilst standing up and doing as Y/n had asked me to.

On the process of covering the divan with one of her soft, warm blankets, I realized there was no way on earth I would fit there.

"Why the puzzled look?" Y/n's voice breaking the silence so abruptly made me lost my train of thoughts. "Didn't mean to scare you." She apologised, handing me the promised —and very needed— glass of water, and throwing my bags over her bed. "You're not sleeping there." She clarified, motioning at the divan.

A frown formed on my face. "I'm not taking your bed."

"Yes, you are." Just as I was about to open my mouth and complain, she warned me, "Don't you argue with me, Weasley. We're both too tired for this."

"Alright, you win." I huffed, knowing it would be useless to try and talk some sense into her, and, in all honesty, I craved to lie down on a bed, and Y/n's looked so comfy and welcoming.

"What are you doing?"

"Going to bed?"

She walked to me tugging my hand so I was facing her instead of her mattress. "You're a mess." The girl mumbled under her breath, unbuttoning my shirt before I knew what was happening. "Off, now."

When she stepped away to reach into my bag, I kept doing what she had started until the piece of clothing was open. Y/n placed my pyjamas in front of me and quickly turned her back to my body before I could even remove my shirt.

"I really don't know why you keep doing that" the words were coming out of my mouth somehow more light-hearted, almost amused. "You've ran into me naked several times." I pointed out, completely undressed and reaching for my nightwear.

Y/n snorted. "That doesn't make it any less awkward." The ghost of a grin appeared on my face and I had to refrain myself from teasing her in any way. "Done?" I responded affirmatively un response and she turned around and removed my dirty clothes from her bed.

We both climbed into our respective resting places and threw our blankets over us before turning off the light.

"Y/n?" She gave me a sleepy hum, prompting me to speak. "Thank you." She mumbled something I didn't quite understand; my eyes closed surprisingly fast, and I fell asleep.

Something I was quickly regretting.

As comfortable as Y/n's bed was, and as much at ease as the atmosphere in her room had left me, the nightmares still haunted my dreams.

I jumped up with a yell I didn't know that had escaped my lips, sweating and panting, only to find Y/n close to the same state, somehow a little bit more calmed. We locked eyes, gleaming at the moonlight due to the not yet spilled tears.

I took a deep, ragged breath, and rubbed my face with both hands; I wasn't crying, I was just exhausted.

The weight on the bed shifted before Y/n's arms pulled me into a side hug; I leaned on her, throwing my own arm around her waist to pull her even closer. We fell over the bed like that, and didn't dare to move.

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

I woke up again. This time, though, no pants or tears were involved; I was calm and rested, something not very usual anymore.

After a moment, I realized the reason why I had woken up was probably the pain on the back of my neck. I blinked a couple of times in an attempt to shake the drowsiness off me before trying to switch my posture to one more comfortable.

I was then startled by a sleepy grunt that left Y/n's lips; I remembered then that we had somehow managed to fall asleep in each other's arms in the most uncomfortable position ever.

I managed to move her with me, without waking her up —and thank Godric for that, because the sight of her snuggled up to my side with our legs tangled and her hand on my chest was angelic.

A sigh escaped my lips when, due to the rays of sunshine that started to sneak into the room, she buried her face in the crook of my neck, hear breath fanning over my skin and sending chills down my spine.

Staring at the room's ceiling, I weighed my options; on the one hand, I could lay with Y/n a bit more and try to go back to sleep, but I risked falling into another nightmare; on the other hand, I could get up and go have a very needed shower, but I would have to leave the comfort of her arms and her room, and venture into our very own cemetery.

I went for the second option; I did crave a shower, and we couldn't let what once was the most cheerful flat in the Diagon Alley be covered by the darkness of grief forever.

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

READER'S P. O. V.

I was shocked —in a good way, of course— when, the next time my eyes fluttered open was not due to a nightmare, but to the bright, warm sunlight inundating the room.

George was nowhere to be seen, and I wondered if last night had been a dream. I dismissed that idea as soon as I propped myself up on my forearms, seeing his bags near the bed and his dirty clothes laying on the carpet.

The door creaked, announcing the ginger's arrival even before he hesitantly entered the room. "Morning." He offered me a small smile.

"Morning." I replied, mimicking his expression. "How long have you been up?"

"For about..." he checked the clock in my room, leaning against the door frame. "Half an hour. Just had a shower and I was gonna make some breakfast."

My smile grew a little wider at his newly refreshed attitude. "In high spirits, are we?"

He clicked his tongue, tilting his head to the side. "Turns out that getting some sleep does wonders."

"Indeed." I agreed, stretching before standing up and walking to him. "C'mon, I'll help you with that breakfast."

"I can do it myself." He assured me, walking right behind me in the kitchen's direction.

"Last time you tried to cook, you set fire to the table."

He groaned, grabbing a knife to slice the bread he had left on the counter. "You won't let me live that down ever, will you?" I shook my head no, turning on the fire before grabbing a pan. "I hate you."

"Liar." I placed my hand above the pan to check the heat before requesting, "Pass me the slices."

"I was gonna make you breakfast," he complied, nonetheless. "Not the other way around."

"Are you complaining?" I quirked an eyebrow at George, making him roll his eyes at me and turn to the cabinets consequently to reach for the mugs. "I was thinking—"

"You? Thinking?" Snort. "The world's ending." He stated dramatically, preparing the coffee.

"Twit." I flipped the nearly ready toasts before resuming my sentence. "I was thinking that we should reopen the shop." George stayed silent, leaning against the counter by my side. "I think it would... Help." I stopped again, carefully picking my words. "Getting the business running... I think— we can't— we need to do something, to stay occupied." I looked at him, awaiting for an answer, or at least a glance, but his eyes were fixed on his slippers. "I don't mean right now," he tilted his chin up to stare at the opposite wall, and then his head spun to me. "but I—"

"Y/n!" His eyes went wide and he swiftly pulled me away from the pan, tossing the burning bread into the sink. "Merlin's beard." I pinched the bridge of my nose, sighing in defeat. "Trying to outmatch my kitchen pyromania?" George would have successfully lightened up the mood if I wasn't on the brink of a mental breakdown.

Fred had always been the one to cook. George wasn't even allowed in the kitchen for obvious reasons, and I myself had the attention span of a fruit fly.

"Oi..." George pulled me to his chest and my arms instantly wrapped around his middle. "What about we get dressed," he began, stroking my hair. "And we go have breakfast at The Leaky Cauldron?" I nodded against him, and he squeezed me tight before slowly pulling away. "We can start restocking when we come back, yeah?" I nodded again, catching a tear with the back of my sleeve before it could run down my cheek. "Then let's go." This time it was him who stretched his arm, offering me his hand, which I instantly took.

As we made our way back to my room, it dawned on me this would be one hell of a ride.

"Wait! The coffee!" I tugged him back to the kitchen.

"Shit!" We both jogged back in, rapidly putting away the coffee pot.

"I think we shouldn't cook." I stated. "At all."

"Agreed." He breathed out.

#george weasley #george wealsey imagine #george wealsey x reader #george weasley x y/n #george weasley x ravenclaw!reader #george weasley x hufflepuff!reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley x slytherin!reader #george weasley x muggle!reader #george weasley x you #george weasley fic #george weasley drabble #george weasley fanfiction #george weasley x gryffindor!reader #george weasley angst #george weasley x reader angst #george weasley hc #george weasley headcanon #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfiction #fred weasley x reader #weasley wizard wheezes #deathly hallows

[heffrondriving]

hey man how old r u bc like for some reason i've been under the impression that u were a minor (bc i am and like idk ??) even tho that's probably not true bc btrs like 10 years old so u don't have to answer with an actual age just if ur an adult or something omg. i gave way too much exposition just to ask how old u r im sorry </3

oh dadgummit, i should prob throw it up there in my bio or smth, i rlly don't wanna be That One Shady Fandom Creep ykyk (;´༎ຶٹ༎ຶ`) and idk abt that either maybe i just clown around a lot and act extremely juvenile a little lot sometimes always and am gnome-sized irl, but i certainly never wanna be misleading or anything insidious. so for the sake of full transparency, i just turned 22 this month *instantly shrivels into the cryptkeeper* and i was around 9 when big time rush first aired (so pretty much perfectly fitting in their age demographic lmao), so there ya go ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

and on that subject, while i do try my very best to tag appropriately and make a clean bill of this blog and don't believe there's anything much in it that would warrant a full 18+ warning (except maybe for my incessant sailor mouth......sorry ;-;), please do feel more than free to block and/or unfollow if anything makes you feel uncomfortable or if you simply want to!!! that's completely fine and greatly encouraged even bc this hellblog is full of nothing but pure brainrot anyway oops we're all about that very cool funky important internet safety here *flips cap backwards B-)* also not to be preachy grampa but i've been chronically online since i was like 12 and am now Irreparably Broken as a person for it /hj so any minors out here in the corner of the interwebs pls stay safe be vigilant and watch out for yourselves first and foremost also tbh stay away from t*ktok insta & twt i beg, okay have some virtual headpats and thank u <3

n e way don't sweat it fam i mean i wrote a whole forking dissertation paper just to answer this ask about my current age (boringly too) so that evens everything out methinks. and i don't get them much anyway so i live for asks!! hearing from other people about anything, btr-related or notwithstanding, makes me stupidly happy believe it or not (pls believe it, there is an ancient loser duwende running this blog) 😊✨ now if you'll excuse me, old man allen needs their joint medication and 18-hour nap, so g'bye for now~ (-̀��ω◟-́)

#pls trust that the only evil villain intentions here are my insane love for bīg tīme rūsh and horrendous content creation skills >:) #but not me also getting mistaken for a mīn0r online when it already happens to me irl all the time 😭 manchild vibes are wildinnn #also now i can't stop thinking abt that 'getting carded for my transmasc gnc swag' post sbxjdj help #btw sorry this is late!! life getting in the way and all that etc. >_<; #all the windows down #anon #actually is this anything in this answer even coherent bc idk???

[lala-ladybug]

Healing Hands: Chapter 2

I promise I’m not this fast at writing, I’ve just had the first few chapters laying around for a while lmao. Reblogs are appreciated!!

Jasonette Sword Art Online AU

Read here on AO3

Tag list: @iloontjeboontje 

Previous | Next​

Chapter 2: u guys r moding my night :(

There was chaos in the Wayne Manor. This was nothing unusual, of course, and today it even seemed to be surprisingly tame. But it was chaos nonetheless.

Timothy Drake-Wayne careened down the spiral staircase, catching himself with a well-timed front flip handspring, and skidded to a halt in the kitchen. Alfred briefly paused to look up from where he was preparing dough for a batch of homemade pasta, then offered the boy a smile and a greeting.

“Good evening, Master Drake. Dinner won’t be ready for another half-hour, I’m afraid.” Tim had opened his mouth to reply when a growl echoed from the nearby ballroom.

Jason Todd-Wayne sprinted into the kitchen brandishing a nerf gun. “There you are, replacement. You won’t get away with beating me this time.” He pulled back the reloader of the play-gun, making a threatening click ring through the kitchen.

“I’m afraid you are both late to the party,” Alfred calmly announced as he mixed ingredients together. “Miss Cain has been here for the past five minutes.”

Cass Cain-Wayne indeed poked her head out from where she had been perched beneath the bar. She gave her brothers a shit-eating grin and wiggled her fingers as way of a cheeky greeting.

Tim gave a groan as he and Jason begrudgingly handed some money over to their sister. “She cheats.” Cass stuck her tongue out at that. “Besides, racing you here was just an excuse to get my mind off waiting for midnight.”

“And because Alfred is the only one polite enough to actually listen to you rave about that stupid game,” Jason scoffed, sitting down at the bar to watch Alfred work.

“--thought I heard voices in the kitchen, oh there you are, little wing!” Dick Grayson-Wayne’s cheery voice came from the foyer, increasing in pitch as he spotted Jason and swept him up into a tight hug.

Barbara Gordon wheeled herself in not too long after, chuckling at the squirming Jason and delighted older brother.

Meanwhile Tim, who had taken offense to Jason’s insinuation, was reassuring Alfred that if he wanted the boys to leave him be he only ever had to ask. “It’s just that I’m so excited for the launch tonight, and you know B is too busy to hear about it.”

Jason had finally muscled his way out of Dick’s embrace as the latter’s attention focused on his youngest brother. “What launch are you talking about?” Dick asked, giving Cass a side hug.

“Oh, tonight is the release of this new VRMMORPG game called Mindscape!” Tim practically bounced as Dick came over to give him his hug too.

Dick gave Barbara a confused glance. “I know some of those words,” he nodded slowly. “So what’s got you so excited? Video games come out all the time.”

Tim rolled his eyes as he sat down beside Jason on the barstools. “Well yeah, but this game has groundbreaking virtual reality tech. Supposedly, the textures took five years and a team of almost 1000 artists.”

Jason put Tim into a headlock and said casually, “I’m surprised you haven’t heard replacement talking about this yet. He kinda won’t shut up about it.”

Cass nodded her head in solemn agreement while Tim struggled to get out of Jason’s grasp.

“Such are the woes of moving out.” Dick shrugged. “Sounds crash though, got room for one more?”

Tim finally shoved Jason off. “I actually bought enough passes that we can all play if you want,” he gave each of his siblings the biggest puppy-dog eyes he could manage.

Barbara snorted even as Dick pumped his fist in the air beside her. She wheeled herself up to the bar to pinch Jason, who was poised to jab his fingers into Tim’s sides. Jason yelped and glared at her as she said, “Sorry Timmy, I’d rather let someone else be the guinea pig for this new kind of tech. Besides, Dad will worry if I let myself get sucked into pouring too many hours into this.”

“Papa Gordon is a force to be reckoned with,” Dick attested earnestly. “Jay?” he prompted.

“Absolutely not,” Jason answered immediately. Tim was quick to protest. “But why? We could spend more time together! It’ll be good team-building.” Jason’s face soured at that.

Dick leaned in and stage-whispered, “Do I have to tell B to force you into family bonding? You know he’ll make you do it.”

Cass covered her silently laughing mouth with one hand as Jason threw his hands up in the air. “Fine, don’t get Bruce involved. I’ll play your stupid game,” he finally relented. Tim grinned at his win, then cast a hopeful look at Cass.

She pulled a face and signed No thank you. Better things to do than watch VR pornos.

Tim’s face blushed profusely as he opened his mouth to protest, but was cut off by Jason’s cackling. Even Alfred cracked a smile while he rolled the dough onto the ravioli press.

Once Jason quieted down, Tim crossed his arms and said, “Suit yourself. Looks like it’ll be no-girls-allowed anyway.”

“Guess we’d better tell Cassie that, Timbo,” Dick wiggled his eyebrows suggestively, which Tim elected to ignore.

“Speaking of suits,” Alfred said while seamlessly spreading filling in the ravioli and placing another sheet on top of the press, “aren’t you boys going to miss the premiere if it is indeed at midnight?”

Tim looked imploringly at the two girls. “You wouldn’t be willing to trade shifts for your favorite brother, would you?”

* * *

Wally West strolled out of the zeta tube and into the Justice League’s satellite, known to himself and the other heroes as The Watchtower. He was dressed in a casual NASA t-shirt and jeans, slurping a smoothie, and playing a game on his phone.

The sound of someone clearing their throat made him look up. He was greeted with the sight of his old team, Aqualad, Superboy, Miss Martian, Rocket, Zatanna, and Artemis, waiting impatiently. They were dressed in full hero attire-- he didn’t even realize Artemis still had her costume-- and looked to him expectantly.

“Hey guys, what’s poppin’?” Wally grinned and gave his friends a lazy chin jerk.

“‘What’s poppin’?’ Babe, are you serious? You told us to meet here ASAP for an emergency. So you can tell us what exactly is ‘poppin’.” Ah yes, his Spitfire. Artemis Crock still wasn’t afraid to give him a piece of her mind. But this time it looked like everyone else was on her side too, as they nodded in agreement with her emphatic air quotes.

“Oh, uh yeah, Mindscape is coming out tonight!” He set his smoothie down on the table. “I got us all passes and I’m super stoked for the launch. It’s got this super cool new VR tech that’s basically being released for the first time ever. I got the equipment through my internship, so we’re all set! You guys are totally coming right?” He made finger guns at his increasingly exasperated friends.

Artemis facepalmed. Kaldur’ahm raised his eyebrows in that I’m disappointed in you but I’m not going to say it way of his and said, “Wally, with you and Artemis retired from the life, understand that we took this to be a literal emergency and rushed to your aid. Do not abuse our good intentions.”

“Seriously West, I have a lot on my plate right now!” Rochelle Ervin was also, apparently, a little upset with him. “You could’ve said it was about a dumb game.”

The speedster tried to do damage control with some lighthearted humor. “Hey guys, stay whelmed. I get it, I probably should have given a few more deets about this very-much-not-dumb game, but do you know how many candy bars I had to eat to win these passes?”

“This is why you’ve been spending so much on junk food?” Oh, he was in big trouble with Artemis now. “You probably didn’t have to eat all of them, babe.”

M’gann M’orzz, Connor Kent, and Zatanna Zatara looked similarly annoyed. Well, the girls did. Connor just looked like his usual brand of annoyed, which was honestly a small victory.

“So...” Wally felt a little sheepish now, “who wants in?”

The rest of the group exchanged a look. Artemis was the first to speak up. “Well, you’ve already invested too much of our money in this to turn back now.” She walked up to him and poked a finger at his chest. “But you owe me so many dinners for this.”

He grinned triumphantly. “Deal!”

Rochelle spoke up next. “Me and my plate don’t need any more helpings, thank you very much. I’ll see y’all at the next team reunion!” She flew out through the zeta tube.

Kaldur clapped him on the shoulder. “If you need any assistance, I will be there. But for now I am running Atlantis in Aquaman’s stead while he is off-world, and I must return to my duties.” He then bid the rest of the team farewell and stepped through the zeta tube.

“Haha, he said ‘duties.’” Wally said once he’d left, then winced as Artemis smacked his arm lightly. Lightly for her. Rubbing his arm, he looked imploringly at his other friends.

M’gann and Conner looked deep in a telepathic conversation, which was just awkwardly intense eye contact for onlookers. Zatanna crossed her arms and sighed, “Fine, why not. I didn’t have plans for the weekend anyway. Lead the way to your chocolate factory, Charlie.”

Connor, having caught the tail end of the conversation, looked confused at the reference. He shrugged and said, “I’m in, could be fun.”

M’gann gave her friends an apologetic smile. “Sorry guys, my uncle needs help back on Mars. There’s tensions between the white and green martians again, and he really needs me there to get it under control.”

She gave Connor a peck on the cheek and left to board the nearby Bioship.

“And then there were four,” Wally said with a smile. “Now let’s go make you guys some avatars!”

* * *

Bart Allen could hardly contain his excitement. Scratch that, he couldn’t contain his excitement! “Bouncing off the walls” may be an exaggeration for most people, but he was not most people. Being the grandson of The Flash certainly had its perks, and being able to literally bounce off the walls was one of them.

The cause of his excitement, his friends Timothy Drake-Wayne and Wally West, had just called to ask if Bart wanted extra passes to the premiere of the biggest video game of the decade. And uh, yeah duh he wanted them! He already had one he’d bought for himself, but bringing four extra friends? So totally crash.

He opened up his phone and pulled up the group chat titled Badass Babes.

CrashBandicoot: hey bitchez n babez (u kno who u r), u ready 4 the best videogame of the yr to drop?!

BlueMenace: ese, do you HAVE to type like that?

WonderBabe: yea it’s super annoying

CrashBandicoot: gtta go fast babez

CrashBandicoot: now answer the question

GreenMenace: oh i heard about that! mindscape, right? isn’t it some vr game

CrashBandicoot: yes! nd i got extra tix, so come ovr to cave

GirlBoss: No can do, got research tomorrow!

MaleWife: you always have research bae. sorry little speedster, gotta drive the lady to work

CrashBandicoot: u guys r moding my night :(

BlueMenace: totally not a word but I’ve got you cariño, be there in an hour

WonderBabe: ah what the heck, I’ve got nothing better to do

GreenMenace: always down to whoop ur ass in video games

CrashBandicoot: u wish

CrashBandicoot: roy?

Ginger1 is typing...

WonderBabe: it’ll be fun! more ~mingling~ with kids our age

Ginger2: Hold on, give him some time

Ginger1 is typing...

BlueMenace: Roy, I can pick you up on my way in if you want

Ginger1 has stopped typing.

Ginger2: Um, he says he’ll meet you guys there

Ginger2: He may have destroyed his phone with his “non-typing” hand

GreenMenace: pog

WonderBabe: see u guys soon!

Bart pumped his fist, then ran at top speed to his boyfriend Jaime’s house, where it looked like he was doing homework. Seriously, on a Friday night? Bart had absolutely no qualms about whisking him into his arms and making for the nearest zeta tube.

“Woah Bart, I said I needed an hour!” Jaime protested.

Bart rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you definitely don’t have anything due tonight, and we have to make your character online before the launch!”

Jaime just looked resigned as they sped into the zeta tube. He knew what he had signed up for.

#healing hands #jasonette #sword art online au #virtual reality #maribat #maribat fic #batfam #batfam fic #yj #yj fic #young justice #young justice fic

[radioduo]

i was there in your forgetting (until i was forgot) || dsmp become human

word count: ~1,900

notes: woo!! the title is much different from the others but i think i like it more lmao anyway, hopefully this is good? i wrote it kind of early in the morning lmao

warnings: i guess it counts as a hostage-type situation, but i don’t know what to call that exactly, so i won’t tag it, just be warned! there is also a brief mention of smoking

first // prev // next

Ranboo had forgotten how much distaste he had for rain until he was on his own. It was still dark outside, a little past midnight if he were to guess. Streetlights and storefronts stayed illuminated, luckily for him. Ranboo sat outside a café under a rain-soaked umbrella as he planned his next move. Niki had told him which way to go, but now his only issue was finding the right direction. He had never ventured far in the city before by himself. Now he was by his lonesome with no guidance and no idea where he was going.

He removed his gloves and absently traced a finger along the edges of the metal table as he murmured directions to himself. “East… Camden, and then north to-”

“Ferndale?”

Ranboo froze. He slowly turned his head around to look at the person behind him. A tall ginger man with white streaks in his hair stood behind him, his backlit up by the light of the café. He had a curious look in his dark brown eyes as he looked at the masked android. “Who are you?” Ranboo demanded.

The ginger didn’t answer right away. He wandered over to the seat on the opposite side of Ranboo and sat himself down before replying, “I’m Fundy,” he said. He must have noticed Ranboo’s unease because he quickly added, “Don’t worry! I’m an android too.” He held up his gloved hand. Ranboo watched in surprise as the “skin” retreated from his hand to reveal the porcelain white layer below. Fingerless gloves covered most of his palm, but Ranboo could tell that Fundy wasn’t lying. The newcomer’s LED blinked from under his black cap. “I was passing through here and noticed you sitting alone. I thought you might like some company,”

The tension in Ranboo’s shoulders was easing up a little. “Okay. If that does happen to be true, how did you know I was going to Ferndale?” he asked, narrowing his eyes behind his shades. “You shouldn’t have been able to know that.”

Fundy shrugged. “I have my ways,” he said airily. Mischief gleamed in his eyes. “You’re gonna want to get patched up before going on that trip,” Fundy suggested. “I can see the scarring on your hands.” Fundy pointed to Ranboo’s hands where the skin layer rippled like water over his knuckles and joints. “Doesn’t exactly seem like you’re in good shape,”

Ranboo grimaced beneath his dual-colored mask. “If you knew about the night I’ve had, you wouldn’t be surprised,” he muttered.

Fundy laughed, a sound reminiscent of a fox squeak. “Uh-huh?” His tone was light and playful. “Well, I’m sure it was terrible, but that’s not why I’m here.” He leaned forward in his chair. The light from the stores illuminated the ginger's face. “I know a guy who can fix you up,”

“Huh, that sounds trustworthy, for sure,” Ranboo twiddled his fingers. Fundy was treading a thin line between truth and deceit. “...who do you know?”

----------

“Ah,” Ranboo sighed. “I see.”

He looked down at the slip of paper Fundy had handed him before disappearing. The address was correct, so why did it feel so wrong to be there? The android looked back up at the looming building. It was not the most threatening exterior. The walls were white brick, and the front door was a cheery shade of yellow. Rain blurred some of his vision, but he could see a garden in the back of the house. An iron gate and an intercom blocked the entrance. Haltingly, Ranboo pressed a button on the keypad. A raucous buzzing sounded from the speakers.

Suddenly, a voice cut through the crackling static. “Can I help you?” An unknown woman asked. She had an accent from somewhere Ranboo couldn't put his finger on. Somewhere southern, perhaps?

O Yes

X No

Ranboo rubbed his hands together nervously.

O Yes

“I think you can. At least, someone told me you could,” he stated. He noticed his face on a small screen, presumably the woman's view of him. Ranboo noticed how disheveled he looked, hair mussed up and clothes dirty. He frowned beneath the mask.

There was a pause, and then, “Honey, I don’t know what you think this place is, but I suggest you go home for the night. I don’t appreciate you kids playin’ tricks on me.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” He held a hand up in desperation. Removing his glove, he put his scarred hand up to the screen. “I need your help,” he said quietly. “Please?”

There was an awkward silence, and with no warning, the iron gate began to slide open. Ranboo breathed a sigh of relief. He approached the front door brightly. He was about to knock, fist poised over the door when it suddenly swung open to reveal a tall blonde woman.

“Hello, darlin’,” she drawled. Her accent was much thicker in person, and clouds of cigarette smoke puffed from her mouth now and then. “Come on in! Make yourself at home here. I’ll get my husband and he can fix you right up,” she explained, ushering him into the house.

O Accept

X Refuse

Ranboo cast an anxious glance behind him. As predicted, he was alone with no one but the lady and the rain for company.

O Accept

Ranboo followed the blonde into the living room. He had to admit, the home was comfortable. The fireplace was roaring, and there were throw blankets and pillows scattered around the couch. “Th-thanks?” He called after her as he watched the woman vanish into the next room. He sat in a pillowy chair tentatively and glanced around.

The curtains were smoky gray, and the wooden floors were were the color of freshly made caramel. There was a record player in the corner with shimmering golden accents. Vintage, he noticed. It was made in 1996, if he had to guess, about thirty years ago. A low tune was playing quietly that almost felt foreboding. Ranboo was about to get up and inspect the purple and white striped disc when the door was cast open.

“Well, well, well!” A deep, booming voice cut through the soft music. A man in a cream button-down shirt and suspenders made his grand entrance and set himself on an armchair across from Ranboo. “I hear we have a visitor? It’s nice to meet a young android like you. I’m Alan Devon, and this is my wife Adeline.” he gestured to the blonde lady that stood behind him. He held a hand out to the brown-haired android.

Ranboo took the man’s hand and eyed him cautiously.

Alan Devon

Age: 51

Height: 6’2”

“Nice to meet you too, sir,” Ranboo replied slowly. “I, uh, I heard that you were able to do android repairs?” He said, fiddling with his gloves.

Alan chuckled. “Not just able, son, I’m an expert at this sort of thing. I used to be the second in command at CyberLife. I helped design the very first android ever created, TU880?” Silence met his words, and he continued talking. “What I’m trying to say is that I am more than qualified to fix up your hand.” He stood up from his white armchair and headed towards a door at the back of the room. “If you follow me, we can get started on repairs right away!”

Ranboo watched Alan descend the dark staircase. The sensible part of his mind told him to run.

O Follow him

X Don’t follow him

Considering the night he’d had, Ranboo couldn’t exactly say he was feeling sensible.

O Follow him

He pulled himself off the couch and past the record player. Mellohi, he noted. Huh. With a deep breath, he gripped the railing and followed after the middle-aged man, a quiet determination settling in him.

The flight of stairs was shorter than he expected. At the bottom of the steps sat a large room full of spare parts and pieces of androids. Strewn about the room were LEDs, thirium pumps, and audio processors. Ranboo almost tripped over a stray limb. He shuddered in disgust.

“Here,” Alan pointed to the large machine at the front of the room. “Step up onto this and we can get started,” he ordered coldly.

Ranboo did as he was told, albeit reluctantly. He gasped in surprise as robotic arms grabbed his wrists and pinned them to his side. Another arm placed itself firmly on his head, keeping it still. “What is this?” Ranboo asked shakily.

Alan didn’t respond for a second as he pressed an array of buttons on a keypad next to Ranboo. Finally, he looked back up at the captive android with his too-wide smile and too-bright eyes. “Don’t you know, son?” He asked. “Lesson one: never trust a stranger,” he pressed a green button on the keypad. “Or anyone, for that matter.”

The machine jerked Ranboo's head back swiftly. “What are you doing?” he yelped. The robotic arm was sifting around through the wires and gears in the android's neck. “Aren’t you-”

“No talking,” Alan said firmly, which Ranboo assumed was his polite way of telling him to shut the hell up. “We don’t take kindly to androids in my house, you hear?” He muttered something to himself as he wandered away from where Ranboo was struggling on his own. “Androids were my idea! Who do you think gave that blue-eyed bastard the idea to build that piece of rubbish? Not to mention one of your kind killed my son.”

Ranboo stiffened as the metal claw poked his memory card. “What are you talking about?

Alan dodged the question. “I’m wiping your memory. Once that’s gone, you’ll forget you were ever a deviant, and I can dismantle you.” He smiled. “I’m going to build the most sophisticated piece of AI with these spare parts, mark my words.” He smoothed the wrinkles in his shirt. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to get a drink. Don’t even think about leaving, or you’ll be sorry.”

Ranboo wasn’t sure what awaited him if he tried to leave, but he was willing to risk it if it meant freedom. As soon as his captor was out of sight, Ranboo began struggling against the metal claws that held him in place. The machine gripped his memory chip and began to pull. Ranboo winced and tried to move his neck away, but to no avail. The chip disconnected from his system, and Ranboo could feel his memories corrupting.

All the faces he used to recognize blurred together. Niki, Sam, Fundy, slipping away like sand through his fingers. He grimaced as he felt the metal claws relax their grip on his arms and head. Ranboo wriggled his way out of their grasp and stepped down from the platform. He had a minute before all of his system memory was corrupted. Ranboo frowned as he grabbed the memory card. He wasn't able to put it back in himself. He pocketed it and looked around. His adrenaline was fading, and with it went his memories. He scanned the bleak basement. His options were limited. Wait for the Devons, escape through the front door, or find-

The back door, he thought as a plain white door caught his eye. Hope blossomed in his chest again. I can leave.

He rushed to the door silently and was about to tug on the handle when he heard the door open again. Ranboo tensed.

O Leave

X Stay

#ranboo #dream smp #dsmp #dream smp writing #dsmp become human #my writing #ask to tag

[kimnjss]

grand gesture | ksj

⤑  series: sugar free

⤑ genre: angst, rich!jin x artist!reader, college au.

⤑ rating: PG13

⤑ word count: 1.5K

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any, lmao.

⤑ A/N: this is a bit short, but it’s straight to the point and meant to be that way!! just felt like this part worked better written then told through text, so yeah you’ll see what i mean! let me know what you think x

A full week passed. A full week of ignored gifts being dumped on your front porch. You were seriously considering selling them, no desire to collect his half ass-ed apology. This was the exact reason why you were hesitant to get involved with him in the first place. He was exactly like how you thought he'd be.

Of course, he'd approach you on a bet. Of course, this would all be about money. It was all that kid cared about. The way he was flaunting it, trying to buy your forgiveness was proof enough. Did he not get it? Was he that dim?

The only thing that bothered you about this whole situation was the time you wasted hanging around him. All that time you could've used working on projects or perfecting your craft... spent and wasted with the hope of trying to get to know the guy. What a waste.

Despite the constant interruption of a knock at your front door, you had decided that you were going to use all this new free time to concentrate on your art. Summoning all the inspiration you could to create... something. It actually was harder than you thought, feeling unbelievably uninspired and a little bit sad.

From your friends, you had requested they didn't pop in whenever they wanted. Felt like you'd work better if you had a chance to be alone. What you didn't realize was that with all this alone time you really had a chance to evaluate your feelings... what you had been suppressing since that night out with Jin.

It had been obvious to the people around you, but you refused to listen. It was hard to ignore now. You were a bit sad, to be honest. It had been a while since you were able to let go and actually enjoy being around someone... romantically, and you hadn't expected it at first but you really were starting to like him.

Things were comfortable around him, he was funny in a nice way, cared a lot about keeping things light, and actually listened when you ranted about whatever was bugging you at the time. It had only been a few weeks spent with him, two dates in that time but you really enjoyed yourself.

A little bummed that it had to end this way. Couldn't help but wonder if you had overreacted, if you should have listened when he tried to text you about it. Stopped being so stubborn and forgave him like everyone had said that you should. Maybe then you wouldn't be this miserable, suffering from this horrible artist's block, you didn't even know if you were holding your paintbrush correctly.

The welcomed knock on your door had you standing a little too quickly, ready to ditch this blank canvas and see whatever had been sent your way. Nothing came in yesterday and you had assumed he got the hint... hoped he hadn't.

There's an arch in your brow at the lack of delivery man at your front door. With confusion written in your features, you're putting the front door open; eyes landing on a sad-looking Seokjin. He's dressed casually, opposite of the expensive tops and form-fitting jeans he usually put on. Pair of joggers and a plain t-shirt. The change was nice, made him look younger.

He shifted on his feet, hands behind his back eyes trained on his sneakers. You had to fight the smile that pushed it's way onto your lips, happy to see him standing in front of you – but quickly reminding yourself why he had to show up like this in the first place. Main priority was to be strong in this situation, figure out what he was doing here and deal with it. Not swoon and go all heart-eyed just because he showed up.

He should've shown up before all of this.

“What are you doing here? No ridiculously expensive coat to add to the donation pile?” Jin shifts at the sound of your voice, lifting his head to look up at you. He looks sad that you can't help but wonder if you're being a bit mean to him.

Although, him betting on your sex life was pretty mean in itself, right? Getting you to like him just to turn around and make you apart of some sick joke, that's mean.

“N-no, no gifts... they weren't working anyway,” He sighs, arm reaching up to rub at the back of his neck in the awkward way you notice he was always doing. Couldn't believe you had started to find the action cute.

“Yeah, sucks. You can't buy someone's forgiveness,” There's bite in your tone but he doesn't flinch, just looks down nodding his head. “Yeah, I deserve that. I shouldn't have treated this like some business transaction. I hurt you... I should've manned up and came to you.”

You're reading to rip into him again until his words are registering in your mind. Did he come here to... apologize? Eyes blinking as you stare at him, Jin takes your silence as a sign he should continue.

“Yn, I'm sorry. I hate that I fucked with you like that and even more that you're upset. I know you won't forgive me, I'm not expecting you to... I just figured I should at least say it, like for real, you know? We were having a good time together and I really like you, so I owe you at least a proper apology.”

There's a warmth that spreads throughout your body at hearing his words. Not sure if it was from the apology or the fact that he had just told you... to your face, that he liked you. What you had been wanting to hear this entire week was an explanation from him, not through text and not in the form of some designer shoes... like a real explanation. Could see yourself forgiving him if he gave you that.

“Why'd you do it?” Your voice is quieter than you remember as if you're afraid of the reason. Either way, you don't back down. Staring straight at him as if you're strong, waiting to hear what he has to say. “Because I liked you. And I know how stupid that sounds, but I was too chicken shit to do something about it... so I just used the bet as an excuse,”

Jin had said that you didn't have to forgive him, but that didn't stop the hopeful look in his eyes. Watching as you tossed his words around in your head, waiting for that smile of yours to appear as you told him that it was all okay. That you forgave him and if he promised he never did something stupid like this again, you two could go back to falling for each other as you had been before.

It didn't come. Instead, you were just nodding, taking a step back into your house. “Alright, well... thanks for coming here and apologizing.”

“So that's it?” The words are falling from his lips before he has a chance to stop them. Not realizing how expectant they sound, how he had promised himself he wouldn't act that way at this moment because he knew you hated it. “I mean... were you thinking we could, maybe, try again?” You can hear the hope in his voice and you don't miss it.

Did you want to try again? Let him in all over again as he attempted to break down your walls, he had done a pretty good job at it before. Were you ready for all that? All that came with being with him... like actually being with him. Before it had been different, you weren't sure of your feelings then, but now, you knew that you'd want more from him. An actual relationship. Would he even be able to do that?

“Was that what you were hoping for? Why you came by to apologize?” He's shaking his head before the words can fully leave your mouth.

“No, I came here because you deserved a proper apology because I was sick of being a coward about all of this. I want to be with you because... well because you're amazing and I don't want to miss out on that,” He's offering a small smile up to you, one you're returning almost instantly.

Still, there's something holding you back, but you're unable to place it. Needed to figure out what it was before you were leaping into a relationship with the guy. “Could I...? Could I think about it?”

“Yes, yeah!” The smile on his lips grows as he steps off of your porch, mission accomplished. “Take all the time you need to think about it... you can call me when you decide? My numbers the same!” You can't help but laugh at his quick shift of demeanor, the way he basically runs down your driveway before you can change your mind.

You stand and watch the entire time he jogs down the street until he's ducking into his car, and speeding off with a wave out the window. A hand lifts to wave back, heart thudding in your chest as you stepped back into your house. About to give this situation some serious thought... were you really going to be able to handle being with Kim Seokjin?

– rich, spoiled and a bit of a womanizer. but underneath all of that, there’s a heart of gold. and no matter how determined she is to reject him, he won’t stop trying until she sees he’s kinda sweet.

↲ masterlist ↳

taglist: @randomkoalablog​​​ @smoljams​​​ @dee-ehn​​​ @jaiuneamesolitaiire​​​ @lilacdreams-00​​​ @sw33tnight​​​ @bangtansonyeondayyyum​​​ @okblve​​​ @jinhitwhore​​​ @tae165​​​ @hellotherehoneybee​​​ @bangtansbun​​​ @betysotelo18​​​ @cherriigguk​​​ @koostime​​​ @kooinluv​​​ @butterflylion​​​ @kookiesjoonies​​​ @uxwi​​​ @honeyoongles​​​ @imajiningseokjin​​​ @amoreguk​​​ @beeeb05​​​ @tommasauras​​​ @bluefaeriefury​​​ @butterflylion​​​ @withlovestudyblr​​​ @samros95​​​ @korkanswers​​​ @houseofarmanto​​​ @soulstaes​​​ @thesunisup-theskyisblue​​​ @jinsearth​​​ @aizuwusho​​​ @moonb0yy​​ @tan-dulset​​ @8sjaf​​​ @mini-coop25​​​ @marifujioka​​​ @sunskook​​​ @elliemeetsevil​​ @ratking101​​ @leovaldezisfire​​​ @greyaceupyoursleeve​​ @emmy17jane​​

A/N: timestamps are important throughout the fic!! if you want to be added to the taglist, send me an ask! also if you asked to be on the taglist and aren’t on there, it’s because tumblr sometimes doesn’t let me tag ppl for some reason.

#kim seokjin #jin #jin angst #sugar free sm au #jin smut #jin imagine #jin fluff #jin reaction #jin fic #jin sm au #kim namjoon #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #bts #yoonmin #bts social media au #bts sm au #bts imagine #taekook

[jaskierek]

Part 2 of Destiny or Bad Luck? aka my geraskier post-breakup meeting fic

part 1

this one’s a bit long lmao

some people asked to be tagged so @juhavs @random-nerd-3 - some others asked for a part two but didnt ask to be tagged so idk

there will be a part 3...i think

---

Geralt hated this. If the silence left in Jaskier’s absence before was stifling, this was suffocating. The bard had barely said a word since they’d left the tavern the next morning, simply sitting on his horse tensely and riding beside Geralt and Roach. It was unsettling. It was setting the Witcher’s instincts on edge.

Geralt hadn’t said a word either, though that was not as unusual. He simply didn’t know what to say. How does one begin a conversation? Did he even want one? He wanted…he wanted…he didn’t know what he wanted, but he knew it wasn’t this, wasn’t this uncomfortable silence between them. It was as if someone had thrust a veil between them, keeping them apart. Geralt itched to tear it down, itched to find a relief from the quiet.

That’s what he wanted, he’d decided, he wanted to hear Jaskier’s voice. He wanted to hear the bard’s rich timbre in song, wanted to hear the lilt of his words as he rambled about nothing, he wanted…he wanted. It was an emotion he wasn’t entirely sure how to address.

He also didn’t know what the bard wanted. Geralt knew he was still angry with him so why did he come? Why did he agree to join him? What did he want?

And so, Geralt resigned himself to glancing at the bard every so often. Jaskier seemed to be making an effort not to look at the Witcher, allowing Geralt’s yellow eyes to trace over the curve of his jaw, his nose, to observe how the sunlight lit up the planes of his face. He didn’t know when he’d come to the realisation that he could sit and watch the bard for hours. He just knew that Jaskier was here and he was warm and he was safe, and that almost made the fact that his body had been drawn tight ever since he’d seen Geralt bearable.

The Witcher finally broke the silence once the sun had begun to descend in the sky, casting the world in a warm glow. He suggested they make camp for the night, earning a curt nod from the bard.

—

Geralt was setting up the fire, nursing the flames, while Jaskier sat opposite him, strumming absently on his lute.

He still hadn’t forgiven the Witcher, not entirely. He had built a wall around his heart to keep it safe but Geralt’s small, broken “please” had pulled out one of the bricks. He missed him, he’d said that, the same man who had refused to even acknowledge their friendship had said he’d missed him, had said he needed him. It filled him with a certain warm glow.

But he couldn’t go back to how they were before - wouldn’t. If he were to have any kind of relationship with the Witcher he would need some sort of affirmation of their companionship from the ever-stoic man.

He watched Geralt’s deft hands work the fire into something living. The flames lit up his stupidly handsome face. Gods, he hated that perfectly square jaw and he definitely hated his longing to run his lips along it and down his neck, onto the dip of his collarbone and the hard muscle of his chest.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

The memory snapped him back into reality, his fingers landing hard on the strings with a jarring clang. Golden eyes snapped to his face. Jaskier didn’t know the extent to which Witchers could smell emotion but he knew Geralt sensed this.

“I’m fine.” He croaked, his voice not used to going so long without speaking. Geralt frowned, clearly not believing him. Thankfully he didn’t push. They sat in silence once more, Jaskier gazing at the fire, avoiding Geralt’s molten gaze.

“Play something.” The bard’s eyes found the Witcher’s once more, finding nothing but sincerity.

“What?”

“Play something.” He insisted, gesturing towards his lute. It was very Geralt of him, to ask Jaskier to do something without actually asking. The bard didn’t mind it.

“Play what?”

“Anything.”

Jaskier blinked. Right then.

How apt it would be to play a song of heartbreak and love, the gods knew how many he had written and learnt over the past year. But gazing into Geralt’s flame-lit amber eyes, he found he didn’t want to. Instead, he decided to play something else, something his caretaker used to sing to him.

“May you never lay your head down,

Without a hand to hold,

May you never make your bed out in the cold”

The slow but pleasant tune drifted out from under his fingertips, from out of his lips, filling the space between them. The melody was warm, comforting. It was a reprieve from the tension that had lain between them since they left.

“I know this one.” Geralt uttered after a while.

He remembered.

He remembered a song Jaskier had sung.

How many did he remember?

What else did he remember about the bard?

“You were sung this as a child.” He continued, almost to himself. Jaskier couldn’t help but smile, watching the Witcher’s own face brighten at the sight.

“Oh please won't you, please,

Won't you bear it in mind,

Love is a lesson to learn in our time,

And please won't you, please,

Won't you bear it in mind for me.”

Jaskier’s voice was shaky but his voice and his fingers continued on and he was smiling and even Geralt was smiling and he was looking at him and he was looking at him like he was the only goddamn thing in this world that he wanted to look at, the only person he wanted to listen to.

Jaskier felt something in his chest unravel as he watched the Witcher’s silver hair-framed face glow.

Glow at him.

Glow because of him.

He felt something in his chest - he felt the wall, the wall built around his heart crumble a little more.

“I like it.” Geralt said once Jaskier had finished. It was a simple sentence but the bard knew the Witcher, he knew he didn’t often speak his mind, or often speak at all.

“So you admit, I am a talented singer.”

“I didn’t say that, bard.”

Jaskier grinned. He felt it coming back, he remembered what it was like being in Geralt’s company, talking to him, bickering with him.

“Geralt, you hulking pillock, acknowledge my musical talent right now or I’ll kick you.” He had once said, the Witcher had simply snorted and asked,

“What talent?”

As promised, the bard had kicked him in the shins. Honestly, it had probably hurt Jaskier more than it did Geralt, but it had been worth it to see the small smile on Geralt’s face as Jaskier hopped around melodramatically, cradling his foot.

Geralt was smiling now. It was something soft and warm, something Jaskier could bask in.

But with a frown, it slipped, falling off the Witcher’s face.

Jaskier let his own drop too at the sight.

The silence returned.

“I’m sorry, Jaskier.” Came a quiet confession.

“I know, Geralt.” He did know, he did. As much as his reason warned him against it, he had trusted Geralt’s apology.

“But you do not forgive me.”

“I do not know. I do not know if I forgive you.”

He wanted to. He wanted to forgive him and simply enjoy his company without the tightness in his chest. Confusion reigned in him at the moment, not knowing whether he wanted to smile or cry in Geralt’s presence.

“If life could give me one blessing, it would be to take you off my hands.”

“What do I say, Jaskier?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

The fire rose between them.

“What do you want to say?” Jaskier asked.

“I…” began the Witcher, glancing down in frustration, “I want to…to confess to you without having the be the one to say it, I want you to simply know.” He looked at the bard imploringly.

“That’s not how it works, Geralt.”

The flames stuttered.

“I’ll go collect more firewood.”

Geralt turned.

Jaskier closed his eyes.

—

The next night they stayed at an inn, paying for two rooms despite not having much coin. Everything in Geralt screamed not to let the bard stray too far from him but he needed space, Geralt knew that.

Despite their conversation the night before, the air between them seemed lighter as they travelled, Jaskier occasionally humming a tune that Geralt found vaguely familiar. Now the bard sat waiting for him in a booth, grinning eagerly at the meal the Witcher was bringing over.

“Oh thank Metlitele.” He groaned as Geralt slid the plate over to him. He watched the bard shovel food unceremoniously into his mouth. He shook his head in amusement. Jaskier glanced up at him, spoon lifted halfway to his mouth. “What?” He asked. The corner of Geralt’s lips tipped upwards.

He gave a simple “hm” in response.

“Excuse you, all I’ve eaten for two days is stale bread and a particularly thin rabbit. I intend to savour this, thank you.” Jaskier stated dryly. Geralt grunted again, turning his attention to his own meal. His smile refused to go away so he sat there, grinning like an idiot simply because the bard no longer looked as tense, as uncomfortable around him. He was hopeless.

“Do you play?” Came a gruff question from one of the men at another table once they had finished their meal.

“Indeed I do, good sir.” Jaskier replied, flashing him a smile and catching the coin tossed to him as the man told him to play something fun. “Well, duty calls.” He said to the Witcher, grabbing his lute and beginning to play a jaunty tune.

His playing was nothing like the night before. Where yesterday his voice had been all gentle and honeyed, it was now rowdy and sonorous. Geralt enjoyed watching Jaskier sing his indecent songs to a crowd of laughing people, laughter in the bard’s own voice too. He enjoyed watching it, yet a warm feeling settled in his stomach at the thought of the soft song the night before, as if it were a performance meant solely for the Witcher.

Geralt stayed and watched Jaskier perform all of his songs, telling himself it was simply to ensure that he wouldn’t get himself into trouble. He didn’t dwell too much on the true reason, not until Jaskier fell back into his seat, grinning at Geralt unabashedly. His hair was plastered to his brow with sweat and he was panting slightly, but he was beaming like he always was after a good show. Geralt found himself wanting to brush the hair out of his face, to gaze unapologetically into those cornflower eyes.

“That was a show and a half, wasn’t it?” Jaskier breathed, it seemed as if he was waiting for Geralt to respond but all the Witcher could do was grunt in confirmation. Thankfully, Jaskier knew the meanings behind Geralt’s grunts and he grinned at the acknowledgement. Geralt had to pause for a moment, the realisation of just how well Jaskier knew him settling in. Geralt had known the bard for much longer than most, he knew all of his mannerisms, what clues to spot to know just how tired the bard was and how much longer he could continue on for. He knew what Jaskier looked like naked and while he appreciated the sparse glances, he had always looked away, too afraid of what he’d feel if he looked too long.

And Jaskier knew him just as well, which terrified the Witcher. He knew his body, his scars, he knew his fears, despite Geralt never having told him and despite his constant chatter, he knew when Geralt absolutely needed silence. His blue eyes had managed to pierce through the Witcher time and time again.

“Jaskier, I…“

Those eyes were looking at him now, expectantly.

“You what, Geralt?”

“I…” A beat. “I-“ A pause. And then,

“I’m going to bed.”

Fuck. Shit.

Jaskier’s joyful demeanour dimmed.

“Right, yeah, ok. I’ll go too, then.”

Fuck. Shit.

—

Despite his foul mood, Geralt had managed to fall into a light sleep. He had hated watching Jaskier walk away from him to his own room. It was only one door down but the Witcher couldn’t help but feel like the bard had taken a piece of him. Now he’ll have to lay there until morning, incomplete, until the bard brought back the piece of him that he had taken…or more accurately, the piece that Geralt had willingly given him.

So, yes, despite his foul mood, Geralt was asleep - barely - but asleep.

That is, until he flung himself bolt upright in bed, nostrils filled with a stench he absolutely loathed.

Fear.

Not just anyone’s fear.

Jaskier’s fear.

Before his sleep-hazy mind could catch up, he was bursting through Jaskier’s door, Witcher eyes scanning the room and all its dark corners for danger. His adrenaline had taken over, his body itching to move, to fight, to protect.

“Geralt.” Came a small voice. Geralt’s eyes snapped to the bard sitting in his bed, an involuntary growl escaping the Witcher. It was in these moments that Geralt came to fear himself, to fear the animal that had taken over the man, but in the current moment he couldn’t bring himself to care, not when the room was absolutely soaked in Jaskier’s own fear. “Geralt.” He said again, almost pleading. Geralt couldn’t stop himself from moving at the sound.

“Are you hurt?” Geralt asked, his voice coming out more gravelly than he expected. Jaskier shook his head, silver-lined eyes wide as Geralt swiped his thumb across his cheek, wiping away the tear tracks. He felt the worry slip away slightly. “Nightmare?” Jaskier nodded, hand coming up to grasp the Witcher’s wrist tightly. The bard shut his eyes tightly and leaned further into Geralt’s hand, taking a shaky breath.

“Don’t leave.” He whispered. Even if he had wanted to, Geralt couldn’t say no. He slipped under the covers of Jaskier’s bed, pulling him close to his chest. He felt Jaskier grasp onto his shirt and bury his face into the Witcher’s neck. Geralt held him tightly, trying to warm the shaking bard. He swallowed down the lingering worry and adrenaline as Jaskier slowly relaxed, the tension leaving his tightly wound body as he exhaled into Geralt’s skin.

The Witcher’s chest ached. It ached in that entirely good and satisfying way. His nose was in Jaskier’s hair and he could smell the walnut and cedar of his soap that he saved especially for his hair, the smell of pine after spending a day trekking through the forest. He no longer smelt the fear that had clogged his nose and misted his mind. Jaskier was warm and he was safe and he was close.

The ache in his chest throbbed.

His arms tightened around the bard.

The bard that he…that he…

“I love you.”

“What?”

#this hasnt been proofread or edited sorry #im so tired #fic written #geraskier #my rambles #geralt of rivia #geralt #jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geralt x jaskier #geraskier fic #geraskier angst #the witcher fic

[ironmansuuucks]

Rain

dewey finn x reader headcanon

I’m just back from the best walk in the rain and I felt inspired lmao so here we gooo just a few headcanons about being in the rain with Dewey

ALSO if anyone wants to be added to, or removed from the tag list then just hit me up lmao - sometimes I’ll add you guys if you repeatedly enjoy these fics etc so if that’s boundary crossing please let me know😂 I’m an insecure son of a beeeetch

This is just some bs I’ve currently wrote in the bath haha and kinda boring but yaaaaaa

Aaaaand @thewolfisapartofmysoul made this beautiful aesthetic which matches perfectly, thank u my lovely🥺💜

- You loved the rain

- The feeling of it dripping down your hands, your arms, your face, the smell, the empty streets - all of it

- It felt, in a way, cleansing, clearing your head, and your worries

- Dewey, did not

- He hated how it got his hair wet and made it messier, and how it soaked through his clothes and made him feel uncomfortable all day, or how it made him feel like the day was wasted, can’t do anything because of the rain

- But you both loved lazy, rainy Sunday’s

- The best excuse to lay in bed all day, slow, lazy kisses, carbs, catching up on tv

- But you couldn’t contain yourself for too long

- You felt drawn to it, like you needed to go out in it

- Needing the sensation of it on your face, running down the bridge of your nose, and dancing on your eyelashes

- “Pleeeeease dew drop I promise, only a walk around the block and we can head home and.. and shower together I promise pleeease”

- You would plead to him until he eventually gave in

- “Ok fine, fine - but I decide what movie tonight... and you can make dinner”

- He would bargain

- “Yes yes yes fine - deal?”

- He would nod

- And you would run away grabbing both your rain coats, grinning like mad

- He watched you as you done up your coat, grinning to yourself then turned to him

- He couldn’t help but smile because of how happy you looked - it made him so happy

- You planted a sweet kiss on his lips “thank you dew drop”

- He would tickle your sides lightly as you squirmed in his embrace “the things I do for you” he would joke

- The sky was so grey, and dull and there were massive water droplets covering all the eye could see, bucketing it down

- Perfect

- Deweys hands would be thoroughly stuffed into his pockets, his shoulders were up, and so was his hood

- You, on the other hand would have your hood down, enjoying every little droplet on your face, your hands would be out and feeling the water on your skin

- Looking round, you couldn’t help but laugh at his screwed up lil face

- He just looked at you and didn’t say anything, his eyes moody and dark

- “C’mon dewww” you would pull his hand out his pocket and pull him close to you

- Your other hand pulling down his hood

- “Let the rain kiss you” you would giggle

- He smirked “I’d rather it was you”, earning a laugh from yourself

- “Don’t be angry at the rain dewdrop, it simply does not know how to fall upwards.. it’s the sky condescending to the earth, without it.. there would be no life”

- You intertwined both your hands with his, pulling him close to you

- He smirked and raised his eyebrows, almost kinda shouting over the sound of the rain, dropping onto your jackets, and the empty pavement

- “Yeah? Where’d you read that one?” He joked

- You opened your mouth, pretending to be shocked and opened your eyes wide

- “Don’t be so cheeky!”

- He pulled you flush to him, his wet forehead leaning against your own, fingers still intertwined with one another, strong

- “You love me for it” he would mumble before pressing his lips to yours

- And in that moment, in that swift intake of breath, the rain lashed heavier against you both

- The water running down both of your hair, to your face, to your lips

- It was messy, and beautiful

- Just like the rain

Tags: tags:  @thewolfisapartofmysoul @little-miss-shy-goth @paxenera @heknowshisherbs @missihart23 @geminiacally @go-commander-kim @gegehaddock @baby-beej @sadpuppetshows @hoodoo12 @large-unit @thats-specific @vicunaburger @stranger-strings @bugdrinkss @sheinassheina @demonwifey @beetle-herbs

#dewey finn #alex brightman #dewey finn x reader #school of rock #beetlejuice #beetlejuice the musical #fluff #dewey #rain #drabble #random #bath thoughts lmao

[princiere]

it's proposal story time fellas

I wanted to write a lil thing abt how the proposal with Akira went so here u go ;v; things got tense but thankfully I have the Anxiety Overdrive when someone else is struggling lmao

also I'm super sorry if the "keep reading" function doesn't work again. I try my best, but sometimes tumblr doesn't feel like letting it work. like I've said though, all posts that I feel need the "keep reading" option will be tagged as long post, regardless of if the link works or not

okay, with that out of the way, time for a lot of anxiety and crying hfjdjg

I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my life with Akira. We'd been friends for a few years now, and only dating for a few months, but I knew him more than enough to feel like I want to spend eternity with him.

I knew he felt the same. He's confessed multiple times in the midst of intimate moments about how he wants to marry me. Sure, he'd get extremely embarrassed afterwards, but he never tried to pretend he didn't say it, let alone mean it. We've even discussed it outside of intense intimacy, and while we were both ungodly flustered imagining it, we both knew that neither of us were opposed to the idea.

It was just a matter of who was going to ask first.

I fumbled with my promise ring - a new habit I'd developed since buying the pair for me and Akira. I felt...much more nervous than usual today, but I couldn't figure out why. Was there something I was forgetting? Akira's usually pretty good at reminding me if I'm neglecting something, but he didn't say anything this morning before I had to go to work.

...Thinking back on this morning, he seemed to look stressed too. Was he okay?

I decide to shoot him a quick text, since work is slow today.

'hey babe, how are u?'

Sure, it seemed a little out of place for me to ask something like that out of nowhere, but I'm willing to put compassion over dignity any day.

Aki: 'I'm alright. Why do u ask?'

'just wondering! u seemed kinda tense this morning :('

Aki: 'So u noticed?'

Aki: 'Don't worry about it, I've just had a lot to think about recently'

That can't be good.

'well, I'm here to talk if u want to'

'not much happening at work right now'

Aki: 'Is that so?'

Aki: 'In that case, I think I'll stop by for a bit, if that's alright'

My heart starts to race. Usually, I'm excited when he visits during my shift, but given my anxiety...I can't help but think the worst, especially with how Akira supposedly has a lot on his mind right now.

'yea absolutely !! I'll see u soon c:'

I shove my phone in my pocket. Well, I've got at least a good thirty minutes before Akira gets here, I might as well try to do some work.

...

Without thinking much, I place my hand to my mouth, feeling the ridges of our promise ring press against my lips.

Another habit I developed.

×-♡-×

After what felt like a short eternity, I notice a familiar man with the messy black hair I've grown to adore. He quickly locates me and steps up to the counter I'm stuck behind.

"Hey," I can only say, unable to hide my grin.

Akira gives me a gentle smile in return. "You seem chipper."

"Thanks, it's the anxiety."

Akira chuckles, before moving one of his hands from his pockets to the back of his neck. "Sorry about earlier, I should've clarified that what I'm thinking about is good."

I instantly let out a huge sigh, earning another giggle from my boyfriend. "Thank you, I was about to start shaking."

"Well, how's work been?"

"Uneventful."

"I can tell. Am I the only customer right now?"

"Are you even a customer if you aren't here to buy anything?"

"Fair enough. Lemme look at your selection."

Knowing he wants me out from behind the counter, I step out and join Akira at his side. "Right this way, sir."

The term of address, combined with me linking my arm with his, gave me exactly what I wanted: Akira's cheeks dusted a nice pink, and he stammered for a moment before regaining his composure. "Just because there's no one in the immediate facility, doesn't mean you can't at least warn a guy when you do that."

"You love it."

"I never said I didn't."

I snickered, pushing against his side a little more.

I didn't expect to feel something in his pocket. It felt like...a small box?

Before I could identify it any further, Akira shifted so that his body was a little more ahead of mine, so our sides weren't pressed together anymore. I figured he could tell that I knew something was up, but I didn't say anything in case I was just jumping to conclusions.

But...that small box felt like-

"So, what genre are you up for recently?" I inquire.

As Akira ponders over our front shelves with the current best sellers, I glance over at his face. I can't help but notice the sheer anxiety he's surely experiencing, given the sweat running down the side of his cheek and how red the tip of his ear was.

I don't bring it up, however. Mentioning his condition only makes Akira go into denial, so I know I have to wait before he'll tell me what's going on, even if I am starting to get rather worried.

As a small reminder, I squeeze his arm a little, and he instinctively returns the sentiment by taking his hand in mine. Since I'm stood at his left side, I can feel his promise ring on his hand.

...

"I think my shift's about to be over."

Akira hums, confirming that he heard me. "I'll be right here then."

Before I can leave to clock out, however, Akira pulls me back to his side, pressing a quick kiss to my temple.

I can feel that box in his pocket again.

I still smile, giving his hand a quick squeeze before slipping mine out of his grip and stepping away to go get ready to leave.

...It can't be what I think it is, right?

×-♡-×

Train rides home are always stressful. Even if you don't have claustrophobia, the amount of complete strangers pressed up against you is bound to be too much sometimes. Thankfully, Akira always keeps me close to him, keeping a firm grip on my hand. It's something we've done for ages now, even before we started dating.

From where I'm pressed up against him, I can't feel the box in his pocket. But with how Akira willingly wraps his other arm around me and has me bury my face in his shoulder, it's enough to convey to me that something is going on. He's never this openly...clingy?

"I love you."

I almost missed it, given the situation, but as Akira breathed those words into my ear, I felt a shiver run up my spine. Was he trying to kill me?

I respond by rubbing his hand with my thumb. I feel him huff with amusement, the hot air on my skin making me tremble for a brief moment.

Sometimes, train rides are stressful only because your boyfriend's being cute as fuck.

×-♡-×

I can sense the change in Akira the moment we get home. He was being his sweet and usual self, but now he was suddenly tense and almost silent. It reminded me of when we first met, when he was acting the same way.

I decide to go against my better judgment.

"Akira, I know there's something you're not telling me."

I watch as he freezes at the corner leading to our kitchen. He doesn't look at me, and leans against said corner. We stand for what was probably just several seconds, but felt painfully longer.

"It's...nothing bad, I promise." Akira says. "Like I said, I've just been...thinking. A lot."

"It's about what's in your pocket, isn't it?"

I see Akira practically flinch, and he begins to hunch over slightly. I finally move closer, snaking my arm through his like before.

It's then that I notice Akira's on the verge of tears.

"Aki...?" I mutter.

"I'm sorry." He manages through what sounded like cottonmouth. He swallows, before adding, "M-Maybe I got too ahead of myself, a-and-"

"Hey, hey," I hush him before he can ramble, moving to stand in front of him now. Akira could only look down at the floor, with his hands buried in his pockets. I gently rub his forearms in an attempt to comfort him.

"We've talked about this before, yea?" I mention, trying to smile for his sake. "So you know what I'm going to say."

Akira moved his gaze to stare at presumably where the wall and floor meet. "But...we've only been together for-"

"Two months, I know." I interject. "I keep track too. But we've been friends for so much longer, haven't we? We've been so close for so long now that everyone thought we were dating for a lot longer."

A tear slips down Akira's cheek, but he lets out a small chuckle. "It was hard to think of excuses as to why we almost always held hands..."

I giggle with him, feeling my own eyes well up. "We were both in denial for ages."

Akira noticeably begins to relax again. "I just...was never able to imagine myself being with someone...especially to the point of wanting to marry them."

It was true. He was always so detached from everyone that it was a shock to everyone - including himself - when we started officially dating. "You've come so far in just a few months." I comment.

Akira chuckled, leaning his forehead against mine. "Don't act like you weren't the sole reason for that."

We share a small kiss, before I ask, "Do you feel better?"

"...Yea."

"Alright. Why don't we have something to eat first before we continue this conversation?"

Akira smiled. "I think I'd like that."

×-♡-×

As we were setting our dishes in the dishwasher, I notice Akira fall silent again. However, he doesn't seem tense this time, so I don't say anything.

...

"...Do you have some grand speech in mind for me?"

Akira looks over at me, taking a moment before understanding what I was talking about. "Ah, well...maybe? Do you want a grand speech?"

"Only if you already had one prepared."

"...Sort of?" Akira averts his gaze, his cheeks flushed. "I mostly just had a general idea of what I wanted to say, and I'd mostly just wing it because...it'd feel more genuine, I guess."

I can't help but smile. "Aw, how cute~"

Unlike the playful glare he'd shoot me for calling him cute, Akira instead looked at me with what definitely felt like adoration. It was my turn to blush, and I avert my gaze in response.

"Either way, it's...not exactly a surprise anymore, huh?" Akira's joyful expression falls, as he toys with a loose lock of hair on the back of his neck.

"I prefer it this way, actually." I mention. "I think I would've just started sobbing if you surprised me, or maybe even faint."

Given how our first kiss went, Akira chuckled at the memory. "We certainly don't want that."

Silence falls over us, and we share a few glances. "So..." I swallow the lump in my throat. "You gonna ask me in the kitchen or...?"

Smiling, Akira takes my hand in his and leads me to the living room. We take a seat on the couch, facing each other with our legs crossed. Without the TV on, the apartment is almost deafening with its silence.

We sit for a few moments, as Akira collects himself. He takes in a few deep breaths, before eventually enveloping my left hand with both of his.

"When..." Akira pauses to think. "When we started talking, I figured you'd just be like everyone else that I was friends with. You'd do most of the talking, I'd get involved in your shenanigans, and so on.

"But...I couldn't help but feel...at peace, whenever it was just you and me. Sure, you were never out there, but you had your own ways of being entertaining and intriguing without having to do much. You're unique, in a way that I can't help but feel calm and content with.

"I always couldn't help but notice your independence, too. You stood out because you were different, like me and the others, but you always seemed to take it in strides. Instead of feeling ashamed or embarrassed, you always presented yourself as just you, and not just another student or citizen. You never cared for other peoples' opinions about you, and I find that...very admirable."

As Akira spoke, he fumbled with the promise ring on my ring finger.

"With how easily we connected, you'd think we were together in a past life." Akira's voice grew more quiet. "I never imagined how amazing it'd feel to click with someone as much as I do with you, and...I want to keep that feeling forever. If you'd let me, of course."

Akira took a moment to dig in his pocket, finally pulling out the small box and placing it in my hand, still being held from underneath by his other hand. He carefully opened it, revealing a ring decorated to look like a wreath with a small sapphire on the top.

"Matthew...will you be at my side...for the rest of time?"

By now, I've started to involuntarily cry, my cheeks burning and my heart skyrocketing. My throat became too closed up to speak, so I could only nod, falling over and leaning my forehead on Akira's shoulder.

"Of course..." I manage through a choked sob. "...God, you knew I was gonna say yes, but you still go and say all that..."

Akira lightly snickered, using his free hand to pet my hair. "I had to make sure you knew that I'm serious about this."

At this point, we're both crying, holding each other while we still hold the box between us.

As we start to calm down, I sit back up while Akira shifts to take the ring out of the box, removing my promise ring to replace it with the new accessory. "What are we gonna do with the promise rings now?" I ask, my face still stained with tears.

Akira thinks for a moment, before suggesting, "They'll get framed with the wedding photos."

I smile, leaning in to kiss his cheek.

"I think I'd like that."

#princely writes #akira kurusu/ren amamiya #f/o #fictional other #self shipping community #self shipping #self ship community #self ship

[alexabarnes]

Into the Water- Part One

Pairing: Bucky x veteran!reader

Summary: When a boy falls into the harbor on an icy December day, Bucky meets ex-combat medic (y/f/n) (y/l/n). She is fighting to figure out life after the war. Something about her sticks with Bucky in a way he can’t shake.

Word Count: 1,914

A/N: First of all, s/o to @invisibleanonymousmonsters for being the absolute most amazing person ever and giving me constant support with my writing (lmao I know I never post anything). So here’s the deal with this story. I’ve had this written for a while but I have withheld posting it because it is a multi-chapter fic and I’ve never done one of those before. Well, here it is anyways. I’ve been wanting to write something for a while that touches on service, medicine, and PTSD in the way I have seen and experienced it. Real life is a lot grittier than Tumblr writers’ romanticization of mental health, in particular when it comes to PTSD. I’ve gotten kind of annoyed with the representations of PTSD and medicine in general (because tv shows and movies almost never get it right), so I wrote this. I will say, though, that everyone experiences and heals from it differently, and I’m not discrediting that, but often the way I see it written in fics is either it’s glossed over, cliche, and/or repetitive. There’s not a lot of nuance to it and I want to change that. So, here it is.

P.S. This fic is going to get gritty and dark, so strap in folks.  

Bucky hated winter, to say the least. He hated the way the large flakes of snow flew into his face, he flinched every time they touched his skin. He hated the way the cold seemed to make his skin burn. He hated the low-hanging white clouds of a blizzard that encroached into his space and threatened to swallow him into their thickness. Every second of winter reminded him of who he is—no, who he was— they reminded him of dreamless, bone-chilling cryofreeze. Bucky hated winter because winter reminded him of Hydra.

The only good thing about winter was the excuse it gave him to wear long sleeves everywhere. He felt protected when he could leave his apartment with his hood up and nearly every inch of his skin covered.

Bucky walked along the snow-dusted sidewalk, icy blue eyes always scanning the street, always assessing. It was exhausting sometimes. Sometimes he wished more than anything that he could turn it off and let his mind rest for a while. Better exhausted than dead, though, he thought to himself. He decided to take the longer route today because very few people were out on the street. The snow had stopped falling and, despite the throbbing noise of the city, everything seemed a little softer, everyone seemed to speak a little quieter. It was a little hint of peace, and Bucky appreciated it. He rounded the corner and took a side alley that let out onto the street that bordered the waterfront.

The water was grey, the slight waves crested white and threatened to freeze over if not for their movement. Bucky walked past the piers, gazing at the ships tied onto the dock, old and beginning to rust from the sea water. There weren’t many people at the waterfront. A few joggers passed him, bundled up, cheeks pink from the wind exposure.

He paused for a moment, noticing a tall black marble stone out of the corner of his eye. A monument to World War II and the naval officers of the city who gave their lives in the war. Their faces were engraved on the marble, along with their name, rank, and place of deployment. He knew the artist chose black marble for a reason. Simultaneously, Bucky saw his own reflection in the smooth façade overlaid with the portraits of fallen soldiers. His stomach twisted, his heart beat uncomfortably against his ribs. He turned his head to look at his boots, suddenly too aware of the cold and his own thoughts.

Suddenly a dog barking and a splashing sound tore him away from his intrusive memories. His eyes snapped to the dock a mere hundred yards away from him. A large German Shepherd was clawing at the dock, barking at the water, frantically rocking back and forth, as if he was thinking of jumping in the water and deciding against it from second to second. Suddenly a young boy breached the surface of the icy water, waves lapping at his neck, he struggled against the cold. Bucky could hear the gurgling sounds as the boy, unable to keep himself from gasping, inhaled the water. He immediately sprinted forward towards the boy, but as he was nearing the dock, a runner came seemingly out of nowhere and jumped off the dock before Bucky could.

Bucky skidded to a stop, working to maintain his balance on the slippery dock. He looked out at the water and saw a woman with bright (y/h/c) hair swimming towards the boy. A small crowd had gathered and bystanders began to film the dramatic scene. Bucky immediately took notice of every camera angle, making sure he avoided being captured on video. He watched in bewilderment as this woman took hold of the now unconscious boy, pulled him to her body and began to swim on her back so that his head remained above water.

Someone must have called 911 because Bucky could hear the sirens. The woman tipped her head back, eyes searching wildly for a place she could get the boy out of the water. Bucky rushed forward to the edge of the dock and locked eyes with her. He was the only one there that could possibly lift them out of the water. Bucky’s every instinct was screaming at him to run, stay in the shadows; he was exposed and vulnerable kneeling on the dock. But he couldn’t leave her. She swam towards him and the dog, who now paced nervously next to Bucky.

She was gasping for breath. Bucky knelt down and reached his hand down to her. She thrust the boy out of the water with all the strength she had left, submerging her own head in the process. Bucky lifted the boy out of the water, laid him gently on the dock then reached down to pull her out too.

Her body was so cold that if he couldn’t see the light in her bloodshot eyes he would’ve thought she was dead. She was gasping, eyes locked on the sky, the cold air burning her lungs. Everything was numb and blurry, noises were distorted, almost as if everything that existed outside Bucky’s immediate view was under water. But her, she was in perfect clarity. He lifted her out of the water and into his arms before he gently laid her down next to the boy. Distantly, he could hear the crowd that had watched the scene unfold clapping and cheering.

Both of them looked in terrible shape. The woman was pale, eyes bloodshot, lips blue, but at least she was breathing. The boy was still in the most sickening way. She allowed herself to be still only for a second before she leapt up to get to the boy.

She immediately kneeled over him, put her ear to his chest and pressed two fingers to his neck to check his pulse. She felt her heart drop as the agonizingly slow seconds ticked by with no movement under her fingers. She ripped off the boy’s jacket and shirt, clasped her hands together and began doing compressions on his chest.

Without taking her eyes off the boy, she said to Bucky, “I need you to call 911.” Bucky was stunned to hear how calm and soft her voice was, despite how hard he could hear her heart beating.

“Hey, what’s your name? I need you to call 911,” she repeated.  

“Uh—Bucky. And I think someone already called 911, I can hear the sirens coming.”

“Okay, good. Bucky, I need you to hold his head still,” she told him. He took his jacket off and placed it under the boys head, so it wasn’t on the rough wood of the dock, and held both sides of his head while she continued compressions. His heart was aching, begging the boy to breathe.

“Come on, sweetheart” she whispered under her breath. She stopped for a second and put two fingers back on his neck. A sharp breath of relief came from her mouth. “I have a pulse.” And suddenly water came sputtering from out of the boy's mouth. Bucky looked down at the boy’s chest and it began to rise and fall with breaths from his now clear lungs.  She was panting at this point. Her shoulders sagged, her arms limp at her side. Relief and exhaustion evident on her features. She kept her fingers on the boy's arm to monitor his pulse. The German Shepherd, who had been pacing anxiously, now laid down at the boy’s side, his head resting on the boy’s legs.

Bucky faintly heard the bystanders’ reaction to the scene, mixtures of shuddering breaths, cries of relief, and applause. Bucky moved the jacket from under the boy’s head to cover his wet, shaking body.

“Thank you, Bucky. You did great.” Bucky was at a loss for words. Great? He barely did anything, he thought to himself. She just brought a boy back to life with nothing but her two hands, for Christ’s sake. Though the boy was still unconscious, he was breathing, and it was a goddamn miracle.

“How did you—” he began, but then he saw the ball chain around her neck, and the U.S. army dog tags hanging from it. “You served,” he said. It wasn’t a question.

“Yeah. Combat medic; two tours in Afghanistan.” He just looked at her in awe.

The water suddenly reflected blue and red and the sirens were almost unbearably loud. The siren cut and Bucky looked up to see paramedics walking swiftly over to the scene.

The woman stood to address the paramedics. “Pediatric male, initial GCS of 3, now improved to a 6. Patient was unresponsive upon extrication from the water. CPR performed after witnessed arrest. ROSC obtained after five rounds. Patient is hypothermic and in need of post-resuscitation care.”

“Thank you, we got him from here. Does anyone know where his parents are?” The medic asked.

“No, I never saw him with anyone,” the woman replied, looking to Bucky. He merely shook his head.

“Well, we’ve made sufficient effort to contact family, we’re taking him to the hospital. Child Protective Services can deal with contacting parents, he needs an ED doc now. And Miss,” the medic turned to the woman, “don’t think I’m going to let you go without checking you out.”

Now that the adrenaline was beginning to wear off, she started to feel the weight of her soaked clothes drawing the chill into her veins every second she was exposed. “I’m fine, I promise,” the woman replied, but the medic had no intentions of letting her off that easy.

“From the assessment you gave us of the patient, I know you’re medical, and I know you know the legal stuff I’m required to do, so let me check you out.”

“Treat the kid, don’t waste your time on me.” If the situation were different, Bucky might have chuckled. She was stubborn as hell and reminded him of a certain blond super soldier in his life.

“My partner is taking care of him. It’s going to be a minute before we can get him out of here. Let me at least give you a blanket,” the medic insisted.

“Fine, but while you’re getting the blanket, you might as well get the refusal form, too.” The medic sighed, but begrudgingly agreed. She quickly filled out the form to refuse treatment from the medics, despite her blue lips, shaking frame, soaked body.

“Thank you,” she said to the medic. He gave a tight smile; he was obviously worried about her. A heavy sigh left her lips as the ambulance pulled away from the scene. Bucky looked down at her hands and saw them shaking. He wanted to touch them, reach out to her. But he had seen enough in his life to know that wasn’t what she needed or even might be able to handle.

“Miss, are you okay?” Bucky asked softly. She snapped out of wherever her mind went. He had a guess as to where her memories took her because he knew where his took him.

She forced a smile, “Yes, I’m fine.” She reached down and patted the German Shepherd on the head, smoothing the fur on his head and neck. He rested his head against her thigh. She grasped the leash hanging from his collar and began to walk away.

“Hey, wait—” Bucky called out. She turned back to him. “What’s your name?”

“(y/n) and this is Ranger.”

“(y/n),” he repeated; her name a whisper lingering on his lips. He watched her walk with Ranger, who stayed pinned to her side, until she disappeared from his view.

Hope you all liked the first part! Please please please send me your reactions and thoughts <3 it means the world to me.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky x reader #sebastian stan #marvel #new fic #multi chapter #angst #MCU #marvel fic #alexawrites #Bucky Barnes x reader

[ernnst]

i can hear the bells ernst has anxiety about talking to hanschen, but he also has an encouraging group of friends (who don't mind their own business) 

a follow-up to @hanschhen‘s fic here! this can also be found here! and yes this is a shameless repost since tumblr decided not to put this in the tags last time!

In five days, it will have been exactly one month since Ernst last spoke to Hanschen.

More specifically, it will have been exactly one month since Hanschen had kissed Ernst while he was over studying at Hanschen’s house, exactly one month since Ernst had confessed his love for Hanschen by shouting in his face like a madman, and exactly one month since Ernst had gathered his things in a flustered state and gone home suddenly, unsure of what to make of the events of the evening.

Ernst went to school the day after and told all his friends, avoiding Hanschen’s gaze from across the cafeteria and for the first time in his life feeling grateful that they didn’t share any classes together, because… well, he didn’t really know. He should have been happy that his friend that he’d had a crush on for the past two years reciprocated his feelings—and he was happy—but now that they had actually started something, Ernst didn’t know what to do about it.

He felt flustered and embarrassed whenever he saw Hanschen in the hall at school, he felt hot when he saw him at church, and when he thought about him—his soft words, his soft lips, and his hand on his waist sneaking lower every second—Ernst was sure he would faint. He was terrified of screwing it all up before they even got anywhere, and therefore the solution was to… avoid Hanschen at all costs for the rest of time? Awesome!

It wasn’t even as though Hanschen hadn’t tried to speak to him; Ernst was just practically structuring his whole day around avoiding the confrontation. After around the second week since they’d kissed (thirteen days after, to be exact), Hanschen stopped trying to get his attention at school, and the most interaction that they’d had with one another was extremely fleeting eye contact as their parents spoke to one another after Sunday morning service.

At this point, he was certain that he had utterly destroyed his chances with Hanschen in a romantic sense as well as completely forfeited their friendship due to his own incomprehensible anxiety surrounding what everything between them meant, and now that the school year was over and he no longer had the excuse of going to Hanschen’s house to study, they were certainly never going to speak again. Great!

“Ernst, are you good?”

Ernst looked up from where he had been staring blankly ahead for who knows how many minutes to see Melchior, who was cleaning up the snacks from their D&D session that had just ended a half hour ago. He looked like he knew the answer and the reason, but he was always surprisingly delicate about these things.

“Oh—yes, I’m fine, thank you. It’s just—”

“Hanschen?”

Okay, he wasn’t that delicate—but he’d also been trying to convince Ernst to just talk to him for the past month, so Ernst guessed that he was probably long past the point of beating around the bush, if he had ever been the type of person to do such a thing to begin with. In any case, Ernst nodded affirmatively, then looked over to the couch where Georg and Otto had been trying to wrestle the TV remote away from Moritz to see that all three of them had stopped to look at him when Melchior mentioned Hanschen.

“Are you gonna talk to him?” Otto asked.

“I—”

“No excuses.” Melchior shook a bag of pretzels at him threateningly before he rolled it closed. “You both like each other, dude; what are you so worried will happen?”

“Something going horribly, horribly wrong? Eternal shame and embarrassment?” Moritz answered for him and used the distraction of the conversation to wiggle free from Georg and Otto’s grips. He stumbled away from the couch as he did, then folded one arm across his chest once he got his footing.

Ernst pointed to Moritz and nodded. He gets it! “See! Moritz knows—”

“But, for the record,” Moritz continued, waving the remote around on each syllable for emphasis, “I don’t think anything will go horribly wrong. I just, uh, know how he feels.”

Georg opened his mouth to offer his opinion, but Ernst timidly held up a hand to stop him as if to say please, give me one second. “It’s too late for me to talk to him, anyways. I waited because I didn’t know what to do, and now it’s been a month and I haven’t said more than five words to him since then, so there’s no way that he doesn’t hate me by now.” He sighed dramatically, covering his face with both hands.

When he peeked through his fingers, he saw Melchior roll his eyes. “Come on, Ernst. You’re forgetting that I’ve actually talked to Hanschen since then. I can’t have one conversation with that dude without him asking about you.”

Really? Ernst didn’t want to show it too much, but that did make him feel a little better. “But...what would I even say to him? And how?”

“Hanschen, I’m in love with you, do you want to make out?” Otto suggested, and Georg and Melchior nodded in endorsement. Moritz cringed, but he didn’t offer any better ideas.

“Ernst, you’re missing a major opportunity here,” Georg cut in finally, making an insistent gesture with his hands as if the next thing he was going to say should be obvious to everyone in the room. When no one finished his thought for him, he rolled his eyes and elaborated, “You’re the only one of us here other than Melchior that actually has a shot at getting laid. I will never forgive you if you don’t follow through with this.”

Ernst cringed and gave him a dubious look. “I don’t think that’s really appropriate…” he mumbled, but blushed at the idea anyway. It wasn’t like he had never considered that; in fact, the past month was an absolute nightmare for Ernst’s active imagination and delicate sensibilities. He wanted to run his fingers through Hanschen’s hair again, taste his lips again—get it together, Ernst! All your friends are here, dummy. You can’t think about Hanschen’s tongue right now, thank you!

“I think...that you should go talk to him right now.” Moritz said suddenly, causing Ernst to jump when he realized that Moritz had sat down beside him on the floor while he was busy thinking about Hanschen.

“Right now?” Ernst reached forward to the coffee table to pick up his phone and check the time. He looked back over to Moritz with raised eyebrows. “It’s nine o’clock!”

Melchior fell back onto the couch in between Georg and Otto, shrugging. “So? I agree with Moritz; his house is only a few doors down—it’d only take you, like, five minutes to talk to him.”

Ernst groaned, wanting to argue but honestly having nothing to say, and knowing that the situation had reached the point that no one was going to drop the subject until he gave in.

“Melchior, are you sure he won’t be mad at me? Positive?”

“One thousand percent. If you don’t go over there right now, I’m going to text him and tell him to come over here.”

Now that idea terrified him more than anything. Ernst loved his friends, but the last thing he wanted was for all of them to be witnesses to whatever confrontation occurred between himself and Hanschen.

“Okay, fine!” He stood up suddenly, driven less by confidence and more by the sight of Melchior slowly drawing his phone from his pocket.

He smoothed out his sweater and took a deep breath. Moritz looked up with him with as much of a reassuring smile as he could manage, while Georg and Otto watched him with raised eyebrows, seemingly surprised that all it took to convince him was a low-stakes threat from Melchior.

Melchior walked over to Ernst and put his hands on his shoulders, looking him in the eyes with a dead serious expression that made Ernst feel a little intimidated. “It’ll be fine, Ernst.”

He spun him around and walked him up the basement stairs with his hands still on his shoulders, while the other boys followed and shouted out words of encouragement in typical loud teenage boy fashion; most of which were completely inappropriate—but their enthusiasm did make Ernst smile, for what it was worth.

When they reached the front door, Melchior let go of one of Ernst’s shoulders to swing it open, then gave him a little push onto the porch. “I better not see you in the group chat again tonight unless it’s to say everything worked out and you’re spending the night at Hanschen’s house. See ya!”

Ernst turned around just in time to see Melchior give him a thumbs up as he pushed the door closed. He heard the sound of the deadbolt locking on the inside. Oh, so he’s serious.

Despite now being locked out of Melchior’s house and having nowhere else to go except Hanschen’s—which was just at the end of the cul-de-sac—Ernst stood on the porch for a minute or two just looking around as if he would find a way to vanish and go somewhere else if he just thought about it hard enough. After he finally came to terms with the situation he was in, he stepped off the porch. It was a small amount of progress, and he was dragging his feet with each step away from Melchior’s house, but it was progress nonetheless.

His phone buzzed twice as he reached the sidewalk in front of the house, and he pulled it from his pocket.

Melchior!: i’m calling your mom and telling her you’re spending the night at my house so she doesn’t have to come pick you up LMAO godspeed. you are the beast you worship

Moritz!!!: good luck :-)

Ernst turned back to look at the house, and jumped at the sight of all of his friends watching him from the living room window. Moritz, Otto, and Georg were each giving a thumbs up, and Melchior winked at him as he pointed to his phone which was held up to his ear. Ernst responded with a timid little wave, before looking away and walking at an excruciatingly slow pace toward Hanschen’s house.

His excruciatingly slow pace quickly evolved into a power walk, however, as Ernst suddenly came to realize that it was 9 PM and very dark outside. With the fear of being murdered quickening his step, his plan to think about what to say on the way to Hanschen’s door didn’t quite work out, because he ended up on his front porch about thirty seconds before he had originally intended to.

Well, this is it.

The lights were still on inside, so he couldn’t pretend that it was simply too late and walk back to Melchior’s house and proclaim that he tried to no avail—not that he was any good at lying, and not that Melchior would accept that as an answer, anyways. He raised a trembling fist and knocked on the door softly, so quiet that he himself could barely even hear it. He stood in silence for a few seconds while doing deep breathing exercises, then knocked again with a little more effort.

That time, he heard someone approach the door from the inside, and his heart was pounding in his chest. Please, Mr. or Mrs. Rilow! Take pity on me and answer the door so I can embarrass myself in front of your son by telling him I love him again!

But it was neither of them who answered the door. Of course not. It was Hanschen. Ernst was suddenly worried that he might pass out. Or I can just embarrass myself right away for convenience, I guess!

Ernst stared at him for several seconds and then looked down to his feet, sure that he couldn’t bring himself to talk if he was looking directly at Hanschen. When he finally did speak, his voice was meek, hardly above a whisper. “I thought—I didn’t think of what to say. I thought that one of your parents was going to answer the door and that would give me time to think of what to tell you, but I didn’t have anything prepared to tell them for why I came here so late, because it’s summer now and we don’t have to study so—”

“Ernst.”

He took a deep breath and finally looked up again to see Hanschen and that little amused smile of his.

“I’m sorry, Hanschen, I—”

“You don’t have to apologize.” Hanschen began to reach forward, then hesitated slightly. Eventually, he reached out and took one of Ernst’s hands in his. Without thinking, Ernst squeezed it. “I should be the one to apologize; I thought that I had scared you off.”

“You did!” Ernst cringed at his own words, then shook his head quickly, squeezing Hanschen’s hand a little tighter and taking a half step closer to him. “I mean—you didn’t, but I got scared. I love you, Hanschen, and I have for a long time—I didn’t want to mess everything up. It was just so unexpected and I needed time to think, and then I waited so long that I thought you hated me and I—”

“—love you.”

“What?” Did I hear that right? Ernst’s eyes widened, and he suddenly felt weak in the knees. Hanschen tugged his hand, pulling Ernst against him.

“I love you, Ernst. I didn’t say it before.”

Ernst leaned back slightly to look at him properly. He slipped his hand from Hanschen’s, then moved both of his hands up to either side of Hanschen’s jaw. He stood up a little taller on his toes and kissed him—one that only lasted a second, but a kiss nonetheless. As he withdrew, Hanschen leaned in, prolonging the kiss for just a moment more.

They both stared at one another for several seconds. Ernst thought that at any moment he would wake up at home from another frustrating dream, and it would be four days until it had been a month since the last time he spoke to Hanschen—but no matter how long he stared, the situation didn’t become any less real.

Before Ernst could say anything just to fill the silence, Hanschen put one hand on his waist and drew him in for a more proper kiss, his other hand coming to a stop on the back of Ernst’s neck. Ernst was once again in a position of being extremely aware of his own hands, which were currently pressed flat against Hanschen’s chest—and a thought suddenly occurred to him. A thought other than Oh my God, oh my God, there’s his tongue again, that is.

As casually as he could manage, he moved his left hand up and behind Hanschen’s head, where he ran his fingers through his hair. Hanschen’s grip on Ernst’s waist tightened by a fraction, apparently encouraging him to continue. Ernst, who was usually very prone to backing down from challenges with very little prompting but who was also determined to make up for having left in a flustered rush the last time this happened, felt emboldened by Hanschen’s enthusiasm. He grasped Hanschen’s hair, and gave it an experimental tug.

Hanschen groaned softly. Ernst blushed all the way back to his ears. So he likes—

At that same moment, Mrs. Rilow’s voice called out from inside the house, and Ernst jumped back so quickly that he surely would have fallen off the porch and concussed himself if Hanschen had not placed his hand firmly against his lower back to stop him. “Hansi, who is that at the door?”

Ernst’s face was burning hot. Did she hear…? No, she couldn’t have… could she? ...Wait, did she say Hansi?

Hanschen grinned at him and rolled his eyes as if he could read his mind and knew that he was, as always, overthinking the situation. “It’s Ernst Robel, Mama,” he called back, as casually as if he hadn’t just moaned into Ernst’s mouth fifteen seconds prior.

“Oh, Ernst! Hello, honey—come in! How are you?”

“Hello, Mrs. Rilow. I’m—” he shot a glance to Hanschen as he walked in the door, “I’m really good, actually.”

Hanschen winked at him and laid a hand on his shoulder, gently pushing him toward the direction of the stairs, presumably to prevent Ernst from politely staying downstairs and talking to his parents all night.

“Well, that’s good! Goodnight, you two.” Mrs. Rilow responded from the living room.

“Oh—um, goodnight Mrs. Rilow! Thank you for letting me stay!” He called as he climbed the stairs. A second passed, and Ernst looked back over his shoulder at Hanschen with an amused grin, whispering under his breath, “Hansi?”

Hanschen rolled his eyes but smiled anyways, giving Ernst’s shoulder a light shove. Ernst just laughed. For once, he didn’t feel quite so worried about what the future held for him.

A little later, while Hanschen was downstairs to get a drink, Ernst suddenly remembered what Melchior had said about the group chat and fumbled to pull his phone from his pocket.

the power of god and anime [Ernst]: hey guys!! everything worked out :) pope 2: now with pubes [Melchior]: we know lmaoooooo you can see hanschen’s porch from my window the power of god and anime: 😨

#spring awakening #hernst #hanschen rilow #ernst robel #melchior gabor #moritz stiefel #otto lammermeier #georg zirschnitz #mine #anyways. the lesson we learned is that posting from drafts doesnt put it in the tags apparently