#the story was dark af when i realized i didn’t know how to end it

[002yb]

A lightning round of ask replies below the cut:

The moment Dick straddles Jason’s lap, Jason is (⁄ ⁄•⁄Д⁄•⁄ ⁄), hands slapping over his own face even as he turns to look away – so flustered he flushes everywhere and he just.  Slips right out of the chair, between Dick’s legs, and onto the floor before scrambling up and looking scandalized and Dick barks out the most beautiful laugh because Jason’s so damn cute.

Bonus points if it’s Superman.

Bonus points if Superman and Dick have the same Superman lunchbox, so it happens on occasion that they get mixed up (the lunchbox was a gift from Lois – she uses it whenever she makes lunch for him to tease him; Dick is just Dick).

But anyway, Superman forgets he didn’t bring a lunch, so he ends up taking Jason’s on accident.  So when Jason goes to grab it, it’s missing and he’s ʰᵘʰ (ꐦ○_○)✧

Then he storms around and finds Superman eating the lunch Dick made for him and it’s so devastating.  Of course this is how heroes truly are.  Jason shouldn’t have expected different.  This is Batman’s bullying all over again. ;A;

Meanwhile Superman realizes what’s gone wrong and is panicked and so guilty.  And he apologizes profusely and offers to take Jason anywhere/bring Jason anything to make up for it but Jason is forever petulant.

And when Dick finds out Superman is just devastated because this boy who has loved and revered him since childhood ices him out; it’s a travesty.

Bruce patting Clark’s back because he’s been there.  And Clark just groans because their crimes are completely different, don’t even.

Okay but Jason being like those cats that hunt things and bring back kills to their loved ones in a show of affection ahahaha.  Dick having that similar reaction of ‘please don’t–’ but also ‘you love me so much🥹?’

Jason being the sole omega of the pack is one of my favorite omegaverse story details.  So is him being estranged and the toll that takes on him.  And where the family doesn’t realize until something drastic happens and they all freak out and step up and ahhhhh.

The visual of Jason starting out with a bleak safe house and having a nest that’s all scraps.  Everything ripped and torn because it’s not right no matter how he tries to fit anything together and he shreds everything in his frustration.  Jason sleeping just outside of his nest’s broken borders.

The family sneaking things with their scent onto him, or leaving them at his window.  Until Jason has a warm nest that feels begrudgingly safe.  Only now it’s wrong because it’s empty.

Just lots of nest things.  Where Jason runs away with a wounded Robin and sequesters them in his nest.  And when an alpha comes calling – Jason snaps his teeth at them for trying to take his pup and said alpha is surprised, but not upset in the least.  They’re downright smitten, in fact.  Because omega?  So strong and protective and nurturing and ferocious?  Hot.

It’s so over-the-top smitten, but you’re not wrong anon hahaha.  Something about Jason seeing Dick as this persistent beacon in any darkness (be that in a reverent or begrudging way) is something that appeals so much.

Yes.  Do I know what to write for this?  No.  Would I read it in a heartbeat?  Yep.

Jason’s crew absolutely wingman for him once they figure out that their boss has the hots for the wingding bastard.  They’re weird about it, too.  Simultaneously helpful and threatening in the same exchange – the same sentence, even!

And they keep it on the down low because their boss has got a maiden heart and would get embarrassed (and kick their asses), so they’re always luring Nightwing to sketchy af locations to like they’re conducting a sketchy af deal/exchange.

At first Dick is confused, but for as subtle as Jason’s men keep these interactions, they’re pretty straightforward in what their expectation of Dick is.  It makes Dick feel a little fond despite the theatrics of these exchanges because Jason has a lot of people supporting him and want him happy and that’s nice to know.

Dick taking these people up on their advice and Jason getting seemingly irritated about it each time, bristling but relenting without putting up too much of a fight.  At which point Dick realizes that oh, maybe these people that work with Jason are for real?  Little wing has a crush on him?  What?  The realization hitting him right as he’s taking Jason out and Jason grimacing because wth is with that creepy smile?  And Dick is surprised at himself because he’s smiling?  Oh, he is.  Huh.

Just Dick being happy about Jason’s crush and developing a bit of a crush himself over the course of being set up with him by Jason’s crew.

The crew being real smug about how they’ve successfully hooked their boss up.  Only to revolt once they realize this means their boss’s ass is gonna get tapped.

The crisis is that it makes Red Hood all the more appealing.  👀  Which of course Dick feels alarmed by, so he pulls away.  Which causes a misunderstanding of cataclysmic proportions because Jason isn’t aware of Dick’s moral struggles – just that Dick finds out Red Hood is Jason and all at once Jason’s been iced out and it hurts.  There’s no way Jason doesn’t take that personally.

While Red Hood had been unwittingly settling down, soothed by Dick’s affections – having Dick pull back on him reignites the wrathful fury and vengeance.

Jason taking Dick and Slade at the same time and while Jason is a breathless, dazed mess, scrambling for purchase - anything to hold onto (I like to think Dick’s shoulders, though Slade is pressed up right along Jason’s back; he’s not going anywhere), Slade and Dick are just taunting and bitching at one another like Jason isn’t there at all. 👀

A kinky take on a round robin tournament where Jason seduces everyone with his contradictory vixen and maiden-like ways (bonus points if it’s not even intentional) and ascertains his position as ultimate bottom.

Awwww, thank you so much!  It always makes me so happy to hear that someone enjoys my writing (though I know it's been more rambles than writing lately; so sorry - persisting struggles).  Thank you for that. <3

Personal headcanon for this is that they never actually say it with words.  Because there’s something about plausible deniability that these two cling to when it comes to each other.  Too tentative to push too far, too scared to take too much.

The love is there though.  It’s in the way they relentlessly taunt and tease and challenge one another.  It’s the lingering looks, the quiet considerations.  It’s the trust and hope and faith that they chose to have in one another, even if they’re left disappointed or frustrated or scared.  It comes about when surges of protectiveness overcome them and in quiet moments of vulnerability they never talk about later.

Basically shameless self-rec because it’s this series I wrote; this is my take on it, hahaha.

#dickjay #jaydick #for the most part #bulk ask replies #because some of these have been waiting for replies waaaay too long so sorry about that #if you don't see yours and it's been a while i've still got individual asks queued up as well #thank you everyone ~ <3

[give-soup-please]

A enemies to friends speedrun where reader lives in Narrator's attic

Enemies to Friends With Reader Who Lives in Narrator’s Attic

(slight bending of the prompt, hope that’s cool)

(WARNING: RED DOOR ROUTE/Mentions of S*icide. This one's a bit darker than my usual work.)

The narrator leads Stanley through the explosion ending yet again. It was the fifth time in a row, and he was getting really fed up. At least watching Stanley be blown to pieces was somewhat satisfying, even if it was less so each time.

“...and believe me, I will be laughing at every second of your inevitable life, from the moment we fade in until the moment I say: Happily Ever Af-” The explosion rolls through the facility, and the narrator leans back from the noise. He sighs, and waits a bit before resetting. This was getting exhausting.

There’s a pounding from the ceiling, and the narrator casts a weary eye up. “Keep it down! I’m trying to sleep!” You shout. Speaking of things that were exhausting…

The narrator leans back in his chair. He didn’t know how long you had been in the room above him, but it was seriously starting to grate on his nerves. Pretty much the only interaction you two had was you telling him to be quieter. The narrator, being who he is, isn’t pleased with this.

It isn’t his fault that some of the endings were louder than others. The whole narrative was supposed to be about free choice and its limitations within the fixed medium of video games. He can’t prevent Stanley from making certain choices, otherwise the whole story doesn’t function.

It felt like all you did was complain. The two of you had gotten in quite the fight once, when after Stanley had played the baby game for about thirty minutes, you’d put some speakers to the floor and blasted heavy metal music as retaliation. 

He’d never actually seen you. He wasn’t even sure you had a physical form. 

He sighs in relief when the player exits the game, leaving him and Stanley alone. The stress begins to drain out of him, when suddenly-

The player logs back on. “Seriously!?” He shouts, though he can’t be heard by them yet. He says the same words through gritted teeth, but realizes very quickly that they’re taking a different route than the explosion ending. They take the red door, and the narrator realizes with dread what’s about to happen.

No matter how he tries, the player throws Stanley off the staircase over and over. It doesn’t just stop there. The game resets, he’s thrown into darkness, and his grief barely has time to fix itself before they’re taking the red door again.

Five times in a row, the narrator begs, and pleads, and screams, and the player shows no mercy. Was this in revenge for doing the explosion ending five times in a row without success? What sort of monster was in control right now?

Finally, the player gets fed up and leaves. The narrator is in shambles. He’s sobbing openly, pain having torn his heart to shreds. 

You’ve heard every word he’s spoken through the floor of your living space. Your hand is over your mouth, and you’re trying to choke back your own emotions. 

The two of you really didn’t get along, but even you had standards on how to treat someone you weren’t a fan of.

The narrator is still quietly crying. You decide to find some way to comfort him. You scan around your living space, trying to think of some sort of gift to give. You cobble together a small gift bag, using some chocolate, some leftover lasagna, and a can of peaches you had picked up from the store earlier that day.

It’s the most silly thing you’ve ever made, but resources are limited right now. You wouldn’t live with such a loud downstairs neighbor if your budget wasn’t so tight. You decide to leave a card so he knows who it’s from. 

It takes a while to work out what you want to say, but you eventually settle on: Sorry you’ve had such a rough day. 

You hesitate at his door for several minutes. You really don’t want to speak to him, or look at him, or have him wonder what you were doing there. You eventually decide to knock really loudly, then run like hell.

You listen on the stairwell. The door opens, the bag rustles, then the door closes. You consider it a success.

That’s how your friendship begins. It’s very rocky at first, because the two of you are really uncertain about each other. The narrator is embarrassed that you heard him crying, but the gift bag was such a thoughtful gesture under the circumstances.

The two of you continue to exchange gifts like this, because neither of you really feel up to meeting the other. 

You’re shocked when you come home from a bad day at work, and there’s a familiar bag there with a nice pair of earplugs so it will be easier to sleep.

Eventually, the narrator invites you into his space. When he shows you his game, you’ll know you’ve become really good friends.        

#the stanley parable #tsp narrator #headcanon #answered ask #tsp #stanley parable #narrator #platonic

[ratmonky]

I raved a bit on my tags but I want to let you know that I loved the junpei fic!!! You might consider it a flop but I really enjoyed it, I used to follow you in my old blog and aaaa I'm so glad I found you again cause your stories are rlly good and yeah the junpei piece was super hot and I loved how dumb reader was when trying to "escape" dbebdbsbs

I JUST SAW IT THANK YOUUUU!!! TwT can’t thank you enough for your kind compliments <3

i consider everything i post as a flop until sum1 comments something lol my mindset is TRASH!!

dumb readers are just *chef’s kiss* perfect when you don’t know how to make the story a leetle lighthearted kdjdhh

#the story was dark af when i realized i didn’t know how to end it #like HOW DOES THE READER GONNA REACT #but then i had my third cup of instant coffee and the ideas started cumming #*coming #ahem anyway #thank you again imma cry now <3

[mischiefandspirits]

Bernard Figures It Out

Was reading through all the comments on @frostbittenbucky's post and all I could think of was that it was Bernard talking to Tim. Then I got to thinking...

"I've connected the two dots."

"You didn't connect shit."

"I've connected them."

Bernard figures out Tim's a superhero... sort of.

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

Tim fidgetted nervously as he waited on the front porch of his boyfriend’s house. Bernard had sounded so serious when he’d called during Tim’s lunch to ask him to come over after work so they could talk about something.

Which Tim had done, after spending an entire board meeting just going over the past week trying to figure out what he’d done.

The only thing he could think of was that he’d ducked out halfway through their lunch date on Wednesday to give Duke some backup, but Bernard had seemed understanding when Tim explained there was an emergency at GRC Labs. It couldn’t have been a tipping point, either, since Tim had managed to only flake on three other dates over the past few months they’d been dating. Kate had been happy to cover for him as often as she could “out of queer solidarity” when she found out Tim was dating a boy for the first time and Tim had managed to trick Bruce into covering a few actual Wayne Enterprises emergencies for him when they came up.

There had to be a reason Bernard was breaking up with him, though. Had he missed something? He definitely wasn’t forgetting an important day. He was good with days and Tam was even better, so she would have reminded him on the off chance that he had forgotten.

What was he missing?

Bernard was smiling when he opened the door, but there was a nervous energy to it that had Tim’s stomach sinking. “Hey, Tim.”

“Hey.” Tim gave his own nervous smile then slipped inside.

They went into the living room and sat down on the couch.

Tim frowned when Bernard grabbed a manila folder off the coffee table. Crud, had he screwed up enough that Bernard had had to make a list? He knew he was new to dating a guy, but he hadn’t thought he’d done that bad. He’d really been trying, especially with how his and Stephanie’s relationship had fallen apart at the end. “What -”

“Just let me speak, Tim,” Bernard said, waiting for Tim’s nod. “Okay, so you know Clark Kent, right?”

Tim blinked as Bernard opened the folder to show a picture of Clark. It looked like one of the employee pictures from the Planet’s website, with his dorky “I’m just a humble country boy” smile and the golden globe from their roof photoshopped in as the background. “Uh, yeah? I think so. He works for the Daily Planet, right? I think he’s worked at a few of Bruce’s events. Not a lot of outside reporters are willing to come to Gotham.”

“Exactly!” Bernard said, snapping his fingers and pointing at Tim.

“What?”

He pulled out the picture to show the next page was an article titled, “DAILY PLANET REPORTER… BATMAN!?”

A wave of relief washed over Tim and he placed his face in his hands. “Were you up all night on the hero conspiracy boards again?”

“No. I mean, I found this on a board and was up all night thinking about it, but I found it reasonably early.”

“One in the morning isn’t reasonable, Bernard.”

“Says the guy who’s always wide awake when I call to infodump.”

“Touché.” Tim leaned against Bernard and gave him a smile. “So tell me, why is some reporter from Metropolis from all places Batman.”

“First of all, living in Metropolis is the perfect cover. Everyone assumes Batman would live in Gotham, no one would consider he could be from anywhere else. Metropolis is outside the GMA, but close enough that the commute is still possible.”

“But it’s Metropolis.”

“And who would think Gotham’s Dark Knight lives in the sunshine capital? Plus, I hear he disappears a lot on the job. There’s gotta be a reason for it!”

Tim made a note to let Clark know he needs to cut back on the disappearing act some since people are catching on.

“And have you seen the guy? He is swol AF, babe.”

“Please don’t call me babe while you’re talking about how hot another guy is.” Especially Tim’s honorary uncle.

“You know I prefer twinks.”

“BERNARD!”

“I’m just saying,” he continued, ignoring Tim’s shout. “The guy is definitely hiding something! Besides, Kent is an investigative reporter. He’s gotta know a lot about cases and the underground and detective work.”

Not as much as he likes people to think, but more than he likes people to know Superman does, Tim mused. “But what about the other vigilantes?”

“Well, Kent has a cousin…” Bernard flipped through a folder and pulled out a picture of Kara. It looked like a screenshot of her interviewing Lena for CatCo. “She’s obviously the latest Batgirl. Look at her hair. And the first Batgirl and the current Batwoman were obviously Lois Lane, the red hair is just a wig. Did you see how she kicked butt at that last event she went to? She’s not as subtle as Kent. That means their son is the latest Robin. He’s exactly the right size.”

Oh, Damian better not hear about this, Tim cackled internally. His youngest brother hated being reminded that Jon was the same height as him despite their two years age difference. Damian definitely took after Talia when it came to body type, no matter what he said.

“And Kent also has a brother.” This time he pulled out a picture of Kon. The clone must have been caught by a reporter out shopping with Ma since he was carrying some paper bags and glaring at whoever was behind the camera. “At least, he’s supposedly Kent’s brother, but he was a teenager when he first showed up with the Kents. A lot of people think he’s actually Kent’s son, that Kent got a girl pregnant when they were teenagers and something happened to the mom so Kent had to take him in. Now the Kents are trying to hide it by saying the two are brothers.”

That was… scarily accurate actually. Especially given Luthor and Clark were close friends at the time that Kon would have theoretically been born.

“And that beef would explain why the younger Kent brother went all crime lord on Gotham for a while before reconnecting with the family.”

“Wait, what?”

“Yeah, Kent Jr.’s got the perfect build for Red Hood.”

Tim bit back a comment on how Kon was shorter than Jason by a good foot. Timothy Drake-Wayne should not know that. Add Jason to the list of people who can’t hear this theory.

“And then there’s this girl,” Bernard picked up a picture of Lois, Jon, and Natasha Irons walking down the street together. “No one’s sure exactly who she is, but she’s been spotted with the Kents a few times. I think the cover story is that she’s Jon’s babysitter.”

“And the actual story?”

“She’s Black Bat, obviously. That’s why she wears a mask that fully covers her face. She doesn’t want to stand out as the only African American Bat.”

“Isn’t Signal also Black?”

“Yeah, but he works in the daytime so he’s already a standout.”

“And who is Signal in this? And what about Nightwing and Red Robin?”

“Well, Nightwing’s just a Blüd who came to Gotham. He doesn’t count.”

Ouch. Sorry, Dick.

“And Red Robin is obviously an older Robin, the one who was Robin when we were kids. Kent wanted to keep him on, and I don’t blame him. As for Signal, he’s got the same backstory as all the other Robins Kent picked up, he just went the Signal route because he didn’t fit the usual Robin mold.”

“Because the female Robin fit the mold,” Tim snorted. Robin Mold, as if he and his brothers were even the same ethnicity. Or even had the same hair color. Jason dyes his hair, Dick’s is brown-black, Tim’s is pure black, and Damian’s is more a dark brown and it’s only getting lighter as he gets older.

“She didn’t, that’s the point. Kent tried to give breaking the Robin mold a chance by letting his cousin have a go at it, but he realized it just didn’t work so she went back to being Spoiler and he got a new Robin.”

Not touching that with a ten-foot pole. “Right, and where does he get the usual Robins? Please tell me you’re not back on the secret government orphanages theory.”

“No, no, no. Kent travels sometimes for his job, right? And a lot of the time he’s going to places that have been hit by disasters or major crimes. So he’ll take in some of the displaced children to train as his robins.”

Tim pressed his face back into his hands.

“You see it, right?”

Honestly, Tim was just wondering how his boyfriend could be so close, and yet so far off. “How would Kent even afford taking care of a bunch of secret -- possibly illegally acquired -- children without anyone noticing?”

“Simple. Bruce Wayne is funding him.”

“Bernard, I love you, but what the heck?” Tim blushed and looked up as he realized what he’d said, but Bernard didn’t seem to notice as he steamrolled ahead.

“It’d also explain how he can afford all the gear and how he’d be able to travel to Gotham or anywhere else Batman goes without anyone noticing. He probably has a secret Batplane or something.”

“Why would Bruce do that?”

“Because Wayne cares about Gotham, everyone knows that, and this way he can make sure someone’s taking care of the city without anyone putting two and two together.”

“And two plus two is?”

Bernard gave him a hard look. “I’m not stupid, Tim. Bruce Wayne is obviously Superman. His face is right there.”

Oh, the others are going to love this! Too bad I can’t tell Damian or Jason. Jason especially would have loved this. “Right. Bruce is Superman.”

“He is. Superman is known for being nice and Bruce Wayne’s basically all that’s keeping the city running at this point. That’s nice as hell.”

Oh my god.

“And Wayne does charity for the victims of cataclysms, doesn't he? I bet he first saves people from them as Superman and then builds them new homes for free.”

Oh my god! Why am I not recording this!?

“And the Wayne’s were rich enough to hide the fact they adopted an alien baby.”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “If you’re about to tell me this is why Bruce’s parents got killed, you might want to stop while you’re ahead.”

“It’d make sense. There’re all sorts of unanswered questions about their deaths,” Bernard muttered under his breath, flipping through the folder. He pulled out another picture of Kara. This time she was in full Supergirl attire with a bus held overhead. “So if Wayne is Superman, then that’d mean your ex-girlfriend could be Supergirl. They look a lot alike and it’d explain how she got involved with you all.”

“Bernard, she has a human dad. You know, Cluemaster. The supervillain.”

“Yeah, her dad. But we don’t know anything about her mom!”

“Let me guess…”

Bernard pulled out a picture of Karen. She and Helena were suited up and talking to a group of cops, two goons held over each of Karen’s shoulders. “Her mom could be Power Girl! Some makeup and a wig and she could look just like Crystal Brown! And Damian Wayne is obviously the new Superboy! That’s why his background is such a mystery, right? He had to stay a secret until he could control his alien superpowers. That’s why he’s always so mean. It’s a cover since everyone knows Superboy is super sweet!”

Sure, when he’s not helping Damian pull pranks or using his adorable powers to put the blame on Kon and I. “No, Bernard. Damian and Steph are just very human hellspawn. And Bruce and Crystal are human too. I can’t believe you called me over here just to tell me you think Superman is both Batman’s sugar daddy and my adoptive dad.”

“Well, that’s not exactly why I called you over,” Bernard admitted, the nervous energy coming back. He grabbed Tim’s hands. “Tim -”

Tim’s stomach sank. “You are breaking up with me!”

“What? No! I don’t want to break up!”

“Why are you acting all nervous and serious then!?” Tim asked, pulling his hands away to throw them up in the air.

Bernard shook the folder. “Because I’m trying to tell you I figured out you’re Superboy!”

Tim’s brain blue-screened and his hands slowly dropped. “I’m sorry, what?”

“I know you’re Superboy. The older one, obviously. By the way, you and Damian really need to figure out separate names.”

Forget Jason and Damian, Kon can never find out about this. He’d never let me live it down. “Bernard, you called me a twink five minutes ago. Su-” Shoot, I can not risk getting Kon’s attention! “The older one might not be as big as Superman, but he’s not a twink.”

“Well, yeah, that’s the shapeshifting at work.”

“The what?”

“Obviously you Kryptonians can shapeshift. Why else would you look so much like humans?”

… Why do Kryptonians look so much like humans? Was there some - Wait, no! Break into the Fortress of Solitude for research later! Reassure your boyfriend that you’re not an alien now! “Bernard -”

“And that explains why your step-mom was so hot.”

“Gross.”

“She and your dad were actors hired by Luthor so you could have a normal life! But now Bruce has custody so he adopted you.”

“No.”

“That’s why you and your dad were so weird with each other when I met him.”

“We were weird because he’d just gotten out of a coma not long before to find that his wife was dead so he decided to actually be a dad for once in his life, but overcompensated and became a helicopter parent to a kid who was mostly on his own for his entire life!” Tim blurted out. “I am not an alien, Bernard!”

“Well, not technically since you were cloned from Superman on Earth.”

“Oh my god! You were just talking about Steph being Supergirl! Why would I date my dad’s cousin?”

Bernard blinked. “Supergirl and Superman are cousins?”

Right, Timothy Drake-Wayne wasn’t supposed to know that. “I thought they’d said something like that before, yeah. Are people seriously saying I’m Superboy on the internet?”

“NO! No, I swear I would have led with that if I thought your identity was compromised. A few people have mentioned Wayne and Damian, but not you or Steph or Jason.”

“Wh-Jason!? You think Jason was an alien too!”

“No, not exactly, but a few times when I’ve visited I swear I’ve seen a guy in the manor who looks like Jason. It’s just been out of the corner of my eye and he’s gone whenever I look so I’ve always thought it was just Dick or Bruce or some picture of Jason that my mind was playing tricks with, but it makes sense now that I know Wayne is Superman. He must have been able to heal Jason with alien tech, but couldn’t say anything because that would give away that he’s Superman.”

Damn it Jason! And damn it Bernard! I’m dating the smartest moron in the world! “Bruce did not bring Jason back with alien technology and none of us are aliens!”

“It’s okay, Tim. I won’t tell anyone.”

Tim grabbed Bernard by the jacket and pulled him into a kiss. When he started to feel lightheaded, he pulled back, “Could someone whose skin is as solid as stone kiss like that?”

Bernard blinked dazedly at him for a moment. “How do you know what Superboy’s skin feels like?”

Tim screamed internally. “He’s saved me from a kidnapping before.”

“Really?”

“Yes. I can get you the police report if you want.”

“Huh… And the others?”

“Not Supers. I can stab Damian the next time we’re at the manor if that’ll prove none of us are aliens.” He’d rather stab Jason, but that would probably only confirm to Bernard that Bruce used alien technology to bring him back.

“You probably shouldn’t stab your brother if he isn’t an alien.”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I won’t stab him anywhere deadly.”

“That’s not the point,” Bernard said slowly.

“He’ll be fine.”

“If you say so.”

“So do you believe I’m not an alien now?” Tim huffed, letting go of Bernard’s jacket.

The blond’s eyes dipped down to Tim’s lips. “If I say no, will you kiss me like that again?”

“You’re ridiculous,” Tim said, but he kissed him anyway.

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

“Okay, but I still say Clark Kent is definitely Batman.”

“Sure, Bernard.”

#Tim Drake #robin #red robin #bernard dowd #timber #fanfiction

[a-singleboat]

His Shirt

Word Count: 1533

A/N: I literally have no excuse, but I’m back!

Request: Can I request something where the reader and Shayne have been seeing each other for a little while and she unknowingly wears one of his shirts to work and the whole day goes by like normal but towards the end of it, someone like Noah or something ends up questioning it like “how has no one noticed this, or mentioned it all freaking day?!” And Shayne gets shy about it but the reader just laughs it off and it’s all cute and fluffy af💕💕- Anon

Over quarantine, you’d seen very little of any of your friends and coworkers. Working from home was tough, especially since you and your partner had just made the decision to move in with each other a week before the entire country had been submerged into a lockdown that stretched over a few months. The days blended together and eventually dragged on, which made you excited to return to work if anything. 

The morning of your official return, you woke up extremely early, not having been able to sleep the night before due to pure excitement. You wanted to get back to filming, to doing all the things you did before going into quarantine, you missed the hustle and bustle of set life. 

You were dressed before Shayne was, throwing on a button up from your shared closet as well as a pair of dark-wash jeans that only felt a little tight at the waist. You weren’t concerned, seeing as you were never really on the skinny side of fitness, you figured it was just early morning bloating that would go away as the day went on.

“Are you driving or am I?” you asked, bouncing on the balls of the feet as you waited for Shayne to pull on a thin jacket. It wasn’t fully winter yet but it also wasn’t cold enough to constitute a full coat. You had a thinner track jacket on as well, the zipper zipped only part of the way up in your hurry. 

Shayne paused by you to pull up the zipper the rest of the way before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Calm down,” he advised, pulling his mask on over the bottom half of his face. “We still have to grab breakfast before heading to the offices, Courtney asked if we could stop by that bagel place by us she likes.”

“Is it even open?” you asked, patting down your pockets to make sure you had everything. Once you were sure you had your phone, keys, and wallet, you then realized that you had completely forgotten your purse inside. You whirled around to head back inside when Shayne handed you the black bag, a knowing smirk on his face. 

“They’re open for pickups only,” he told you, pulling your keys from your pocket, “and I’ll drive, I don’t feel like getting pulled over by the cops today.”

“I’m not that bad at driving,” you tried to defend yourself, hurrying after him as he walked off to the parking lot. “I just take the speed limit signs as suggestions but that doesn’t mean I’m bad at it.”

He didn’t respond, instead holding the passenger seat door open for you. His action was answer enough. You slid into the passenger seat and buckled in as he shut the door tight, running around to the other side and sliding into the driver’s seat. 

“What are we going to tell them when you roll up driving my car, huh?” you questioned. “Our friends know we moved into the same apartment because it was cheaper as roommates, not because we started dating. If you roll up driving my car they’ll have questions.”

“It’ll be fine,” he tried to parlay your worries. “Besides, if you’re that concerned about it I can just say you had a headache or didn’t feel like driving after we got to the bagel shop. Not the end of the world.”

You sank back into your seat, coming to terms with the fact that Shayne was not going to let you drive. He pulled out of the parking lot as One Direction played softly in the background, the aux cord trailing from its socket to the connector on your phone as you dictated what you listened to on the way to the bagel shop. 

Shayne got out of the car when you got there, heading in to pick up the order you had called ahead for on the way there. He was back before Temporary Fix ended, handing the bagels over to you as you switched over to Alec Benjamin for the rest of the ride in. 

You ate your bagel on the way in, putting the vegetable spread evenly over the toasted bread and eating it as Water Fountain played. You held out a bit of your bagel, silently asking if Shayne wanted any. He took the bite, smiling when he realized you accidentally got cream cheese on his cheek. You reached out with a napkin and wiped it off before finishing the rest of your bagel. 

You arrived at the offices shortly after, unplugging your phone from the aux and exiting the vehicle. Luckily, no one was outside to see the two of you enter the building. You would say you were walking a little too closely for it to be considered friendly, especially during a pandemic, but everyone knew that the two of you were close friends anyways. Walking close together wouldn’t give anything away. 

“What do you have to film today?” you made small talk in the elevator, getting to your working mindset. You knew what you had to do, film a gaming video with Ian, Noah, and Courtney, as well as take a look and collaborate with the writers on a new skit idea for when production went back to being fully up and running. It would be a short day for you, which wasn’t ideal but at least you got some camera time.

Shayne looked up from his phone. “I’ve got the meeting with the crew and then some gaming videos, I think. We’re also planning for the Christmas video soon, so I’ll probably be with Wardrobe for most of the day.”

You hummed as the elevator doors opened, Shayne tucking his phone away and then sending you a wink. You felt your face burn hot as you scrunched up your nose. You reached up to fix your mask as you waited for the elevator to go up to the main office floor, heading straight for your desk where a pack of Lysol wipes and a temperature gun were waiting. 

Proactive, you thought, using the wipes to clean off the surface of your desk before finally setting your things down. You took your jacket off, draping over the back of your chair before sitting. You had about thirty minutes before your call time so you checked your email and went over a few of the new safety regulations that were put in place for filming.

The most notable were the fifteen-minute COVID tests you would have to take before and after each section of filming, meaning you couldn’t enter or exit the filming area without a negative test. Honestly, that was a good thing if any. At least the company cared in that way. 

Filming took up the rest of your day and when you finally finished with your writer’s meeting, it was six pm. Not as early as a day as you would have hoped but you’ve definitely stayed in the studio for longer so you weren’t going to complain. 

You were sitting at your desk as you waited for Shayne to finish up his meeting, casually chatting with Noah to pass the time. You were sharing one of your quarantine stories when Shayne walked in, heading straight for your desk with his things already collected. 

“Are you ready to go?” he asked, adjusting her jacket. “Also, what do you want for dinner tonight because I was thinking we could have lasagna but if we want lasagna we have to stop by the market on the way.”

You laughed, pulling your jacket on. “I could go for lasagna.”

Noah looked between the two of you, slowly connecting the dots. He pointed at you, a grin on his face as realization crossed his features. “That’s Shayne’s shirt.”

You looked down, realizing that, yeah, you were wearing Shayne’s shirt. You looked over at Shayne who’s cheeks were as red as a tomato. He started stammering, offering reasons as to why you were wearing his shirt. 

You just shrugged, quickly thinking for a way out. “The laundry must have gotten mixed up. Not the first time I’d accidentally worn his shirts.” 

 Noah gave you a look that read that he didn’t quite believe you. But he let it go, taking note of Shayne’s red cheeks and your flustered looks. He smirked, patting your shoulder as he got up. 

“I’ll believe you for now,” he said, leaving the two of you to stew in your minor embarrassment. 

“How long until everyone knows?” you asked Shayne who looked only mildly mortified that Noah was the first to find out. “We weren’t even keeping it a secret either… I’m proud of us anyhow.”

“I guess that means we don’t have to worry about who sees us now,” he said, looking on the bright side. “And yeah, keeping it a secret any longer would have been kinda dumb, wouldn’t it have been.”

You headed to the elevators, linking your arm through Shayne’s. 

“Not excited for the fans to find out, though.”

Shayne looked at you and then looked back at the opening elevator doors. “We don’t have to tell them. It can be Smosh’s little secret.”

TAGLIST

@beautiful-holland​ @toms-order​ @starlightfound​  @positiveparker​ @bippity-boppity-boopa​ @caswinchester2000​ @andreasworlsboring101 @imladylunaticbitch​ @paige0103​ @theofficialzivadavid​

#shayne topp #shayne topp x reader #shayne #topp #reader #shayne topp imagine #shayne topp fluff #fluff #his shirt #Noah Grossman #Courtney Miller #ian hecox #one direction #alec benjamin #smosh #smosh games

[all-you-need-is-paul-mccartney]

This Boy (George Harrison x Female!Reader)

A/N: Hey y'all! welcome to my first oneshot! a lot of my stories are very plot-driven and they end up becoming these long chapter fics but I'm gonna see if I can make a handful of oneshots in the next little bit to kind of give yous something to read while waiting for the longer fics to finish up. this is my first one, and it's for Georgie!

Summary: It's date night, and you're more than ready to meet your mystery date; George, however, is not.

WARNINGS: Swearing is in almost all my fics, so this one isn't safe either probably, hints of suggestive behaviour, slow burn, friends to lovers, lack of self-editing probably, etc. *This fic is also LONG AF so I would advise y'all to start reading this when you have nothing else to do*

I'll rate this one as a T. Enjoy, folks!

George checked the clock on the wall again and sighed gently.

You were still getting ready.

As much as it disappointed him, George agreed-- well, more like offered-- to drive you to your blind date one of your girlfriends set you up on.

It's not that he wasn't excited or proud of you for getting yourself out there. He knew you'd been meaning to do that since graduating school.

He was just frustrated at the fact that whichever lucky man was going on a date with you that night wasn't him.

When he found out about the date, he immediately vocalized his distrust for the mystery person, despite knowing absolutely zero about him. You seemed heartbroken at that, and to make it up to you, he offered to drive you to the date.

So there he was, sitting on the sofa in the living area of your flat, waiting for you to finish getting ready.

George had taken you to school dances in the past, and while your mother let you wear makeup to them, it never took you this long to apply it.

You were definitely dressing to impress tonight.

"Lucky man," he just mumbled under his breath at the thought of that boy.

You and George had been friends since you were children, and he deemed you his Best Friend Forever only an hour into your first playtime.

You spent your days as children riding your bikes to the park to play, and helping each other with homework at each other's houses every night.

However, that sort of platonic "buddy-buddy" dynamic changed when the both of you hit puberty.

It wasn't until a boy at George's school questioned him if you were his girlfriend, that George realized he had a crush on you. Some of his friends had girl friends, and they were always teased about whether or not they were dating, but this was the first time anyone had put you and George together.

After this discovery, (which he would endlessly thank the young boy who opened his eyes to the truth in the first place) George began to notice lots of little things about you that he hadn't before.

You would run your fingers through the hair on the back of his head during hugs, you never took your eyes away from him when he was speaking; there hadn't been one time to name that you'd ever made him upset or angry, but more or less excited, and free, and joyous.

And not to mention, the way you called him "Georgie" made his heart pound so loud and hard in his chest that he might as well have just completed a marathon...

He was in love with everything only when you were around.

Actually, as awkward as George thinks it is, Paul helped him realize he was physically attracted to you.

The boys were on their way to George's after school, a few years after George realized he had a little crush on you, and the teenagers both caught sight of you watering the front garden of your home at the request of your mother.

George stopped in his tracks when he saw you, his mouth hanging open as he watched you do your thing. After being enrolled in his boy's school, you never had much time to see one another, as much as it hurt him; so he cherished every moment he could see you.

"If her ma catches you out the window starin' at her daughter's arse the way you're doin' right now Harrison, they'll rip your tongue right out."

George's face went bright red, and he turned to look at Paul in horror, slapping him on the arm for saying such a thing. "I wasn't staring at her like that!" But he couldn't help but steal a glance at your behind since it was now the topic of discussion, though he really didn't want it to be.

Paul knew George felt compelled to say something to you, and he smirked as George awkwardly raised his hand to wave as he called to you from the other side of the street.

"H-hey, Y/n!"

You turned around, and grinned at who you'd seen.

"Hey Georgie! Hi Paulie!" You twiddled your fingers at them, and George's stomach churned in jealousy at the fact you had a nickname for Paul, as well.

"Your garden looks beautiful, Ms. Y/l/n!"

Paul stole George's line. He fucking stole his line!

"A-and you look just as lovely as ever!" George added to one-up his friend.

You put a hand to your heart. "You boys make my heart sing." George took pride in your words despite them partially being for Paul as well.

"We need to see each other more, yeah?" George never expected his question to really get him anywhere, but he was wrong.

"Why not tonight? I don't have any homework and my parents are leaving town 'round five for the weekend to visit my auntie and uncle."

George's answer came quick, and effortlessly. "I'll be 'round for six. Sound good?"

"Perfect! I'll see you tonight then." You waved to the boys again, and then went back to watering the garden after bidding farewell.

The rest of the walk home was just Paul making fun of how lovestruck George was with you, and by the time they got to his house, just down the road from yours, Paul looked over at his buddy and smiled.

"No wonder you value your time with your darlin' over there so much, Magpie. Looks like she would definitely be a fine birdie in bed."

George looked over at Paul, eyes wide, and his voice broke. "... What?!" The thought of going to bed with you never crossed his mind-- well, until that moment.

"Hey, her folks'll be gone by the time you go over! You can make your move then! It's perfect!" Paul's words laced with excitement made George feel panicked, and the boy shook his head worriedly after a moment. "M-maybe it's not the best idea to go tonight..."

"Why not? All you ever wanna do is be alone with her!" Paul set a hand on the other boy's shoulder when he didn't answer. "What's up, George?"

"Paul, I've never even kissed her. She doesn't even know I like her like that! What if she likes someone else?! What do I even do?!" Paul was the biggest heartbreaker George knew. He'd had like... ten girlfriends since they met, and he kissed a whole three of them. They didn't last long, much like the fate of other young relationships, but George took Paul's advice as serious guidance; he needed to in a time like this.

"You just need to be calm. Take some deep breaths. You'll know what to do when the time comes. I know you will."

That night, George had many opportunities to dive in for a kiss, or mention his feelings for you; some of those opportunities he even believed you encouraged, but he didn't budge out of utter fear of rejection. George knew for a fact that Paul was going to facepalm when he asks him for details on the visit to your place.

Instead, the night only consisted of talking, and the only contact you made were a couple of hugs and a kiss on the cheek (which left George a stumbling mess again), though you did agree to spend more time together, which is how your friendship lasted so long.

He was so close to having you, and because he was too scared to make the move Paul (and maybe you) were encouraging him to make so long ago, you slipped through his fingers; and since, the thought of not being able to have you that way never left his mind.

Especially not when you were now a gorgeous young lady, blindly torturing poor George, who beat himself up every day because he lost his chance.

You were like a piece of artwork to George. You could be loved, admired, and looked at by him, but he could never hold you or touch you.

And George hated that.

George wanted you to be his girl.

And you were his girl-- well, in a twisted way. You were always with him, smiling and laughing about nothing and everything, holding onto each other in your darkest nights and guiding one another through personal struggles...

But when other boys started to want you too, George wanted to make it a point to keep the majority of them away.

Some didn't heed George's threats and went on to pursue you anyways, only to be turned down on your front steps by yourself. George never understood why you never reciprocated anybody's feelings, but it's not like he was verbally complaining.

And that's what lead up to tonight. George had wanted you for so long, and the sudden knowledge of a blind date had him in shock, especially since this was your very first time giving in and agreeing to go.

It killed him to know some rando was going to appear out of thin air to whisk you away, whisper sweet nothings in your ear and eventually put his hands on you, thinking his love for you is stronger than any other despite knowing absolutely nothing about how you should be loved, and treated...

But George hid his fury from you because you were excited about this date.

And he would do anything for you.

George's rage-inducing, mind-racing thoughts were interrupted by the sound of your bedroom door clicking shut from behind him. He turned his head, heart in his throat, and you stepped into the room.

You wore a lovely high-waisted navy dress, and a pair of black flats. Your hair was half down, the rest coming together at the back of your head by a matching clip-on bow.

As expected, your makeup was quite noticeable. The burgundy colour of your lips and dark brown eyeshadow had George's head spinning, and he couldn't resist ogling at the way that dress fit you so well...

"So… How do I look? Like, if we were about to go on a date..."

A date? Us? We?!

George's palms began to sweat, and his heart did somersaults. If only.

It was only then that he realized his mouth was hanging slightly ajar, and after snapping it shut, he swallowed in embarrassment, not daring to look anywhere but your eyes again in fear of falling victim to your appearance again.

Imagine not being able to trust your eyes?

"... What would you think?"

George squeaked, his lips moving hesitantly though he didn't make a sound. His face was surely an embarrassing shade of red, and the longer he waited into answer, the more anticipated you looked for a response.

George rose to his feet and approached you, bravely deciding to give you another good onceover after a deep breath, though he kind of lost all sense of feeling in his legs when you smiled at him with that perfect mouth of yours...

"Wow." George sighed, eyelids falling heavy over his brown irises as he admired you.

"I just... you... wow, Y/n." He couldn't come up with a coherent sentence with the way you were staring at him like that.

God, he was absolutely smitten with you.

Your eyes shone joyously as you placed your hand on your heart, and George, as impossible to him as it seemed, fell so much more in love with you than he was just moments before. Your presence rendered him speechless, and the thought inflated your ego a lot more than you would have expected it to.

George remained silent, but his gaze was still glued to you. He'd looked at you for long enough in his life to probably draw you perfectly by memory, but he still took his time to drink in what he was given; because who knew if he'd ever be able to see more of you than this?

"I... I'm-- I'm speechless, is what I am." He cleared his throat after a moment and said, "I... honestly hope my eyes are doing all the talking for me."

"Aw, you're just a sweetiepie, aren't you?"

You beamed at George, blushing as you took another step toward him. "Well Georgie... if you keep looking at me and sweet-talking the way you are..." your warm words were carefully chosen, and it was obvious that George was hanging into every single word you were saying.

"I may just have to pass on this date and spend tonight with you." Your eyelids fell heavy over your eyes, and you offered George a smile that was suggesting something maybe not so innocent.

"Wh-what?!"

"... I said I'm ready to go." You raised your eyebrow in a little confusion at George's flustered state.

Oh my fucking God she didn't even say that?!

Idiot.

Idiot, idiot, idiot.

"... R-right, yes, of course." George shook his head as if to rid his brain of the idea of tricking him like that again. He offered his arm out to you, and you linked yours with his before walking to the door together.

You passed a mirror on the way out, and George caught a glimpse of the both of your reflections, and his chest felt like it was on fire.

He looked so happy to be with you in that moment.

And you looked so happy to be leaving to spend time with another man.

George just hoped at least the reflection of him and you were going on this date together, and both of those smiles were meant for each other.

George pulled up to whatever restaurant this guy wanted to meet you at, which was on the other side of town. George did not approve of this and even reminded you of this on the way there, though you insisted you'd be fine, like you had the couple of times he mentioned this before.

You looked at him after he threw his car into park, and he gave you a little smile after a moment, but it didn't reach his eyes.

"You do look beautiful, Y/n. This guy... he's very lucky."

"I... I don't know what to say."

"Say you believe me."

You didn't say anything. Instead, you smiled sadly, and leaned in to kiss George's cheek. His skin darkened to pink beneath your lips before you could pull away and leave the car with another goodbye, though his ears were ringing and he missed your final farewell.

She doesn't believe me...

George waited until he saw you were seated in the restaurant to put his car back into drive, but something kept him from lifting his foot off the brake. He watched you adjust your silverware at your table, and clasp your hands together in wait.

... Maybe George wanted to wait for this guy to show up.

But would he really want to kill himself by spying on you and watching you fall for someone who wasn't him over the course of one night?

That was the question that made him decide to look back, and pull out of his parking space before he could spot anyone even go near the building. He was in drive and speeding home moments later.

The car ride back to his flat was a quiet one. George kept the radio off, and his fingers drummed against the steering wheel the whole time as if he were almost impatient to get home and do nothing.

Every time he looked in the rear view mirror and saw his eyes stare back at him, it just reminded him that his reflection left that restaurant alone and just as disappointed as his real counterpart.

It wasn't long before George pulled into his building's parking space and sulked out of his car, slamming the door shut. His eyes and nose were burning from the assault of unfallen tears.

He dropped you off to meet this guy. This was all on him this time.

George loved you. He loved you with all his heart, enough to swallow his pride-- sacrifice his happiness for your own.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, dropping you off that night felt like he was letting you go.

And was he?

He pretty much stumbled through the door because his fucks to give for himself were pretty much nonexistent at this point. He kicked his shoes off, not caring if he scuffed up the wall with black marks.

He just wanted to have a long hot shower, crawl into bed, and hide from everyone.

And that's just what he did.

His shower was well over an hour long, and that's where he broke down and cried for the majority of the time. He cried about you, and the situation his own decisions put himself in. He cried in jealousy for the threat sweeping you off your feet right now, and he cried as if that was the last night he'd ever see you again.

When he got out of the shower, well after the stream went cold, he had no more tears to shed. He was dehydrated, and he felt broken. He did a half-assed job of drying himself off before leaving the bathroom and collapsing into bed, only a towel secured around his hips.

His face was pressed into his pillow, and he tucked his arms beneath it and submerged himself even further into the soft fabric.

He recently switched detergent to whichever one you regularly used, and he just took in the familiar scent; anything to make him feel more at home without you actually being present...

George had no idea how long he was in that position for, but he fell asleep like that, only to wake to the sound of the phone ringing.

He got up and stumbled out of his room to ease the obnoxiously loud phone by picking up the call, shouting, and hanging up on whoever decided to phone at this hour-- whichever hour it was.

"Yeah," George rasped through the receiver, his tone laced with underlying irritation. He just wanted to be left alone in his sadness.

"George..."

"... Y/n?" He was rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the palm of his hand before you spoke, but your voice made him freeze.

"Oh Georgie..." your voice was breaking over the phone, and he could tell it wasn't the connection.

"Y/n, my Love, what's the matter?!"

"George he... He didn't show." George's heart stopped.

He didn't show.

George's grip closed tighter and tighter on the phone receiver, and he could feel the pure rage bubbling in his chest, and the plastic receiver crackling from the force under his fingers.

"Where are you?" He demanded. "I'm coming right now to get you," George was about to start throwing his shoes on, despite wearing absolutely nothing to start off with, his towel discarded and still on the bed from when he passed out.

"The same place you dropped me off."

God dammit, this fucking guy had you go to the other side of town just to be forgotten about.

It was finally settled: if George ever found out who this guy was, he'd kill him for doing this to you.

"Don't move. Be there in five." As soon as George hung up the phone, he took off to his room. He was ready in record time: under a minute. Up until the day he died, George wouldn't have been able to dress as quick as he did that night, and he never knew how he did it.

What really mattered was that George got to the other side of town in about five minutes, as he said over the phone.

George whipped into the parking lot and got out of the car. He hurried over to the front of the building to go in and search for you, but he caught a glimpse of you sitting at the curb as he grabbed the door handle.

His grip eased on the lockset, and he slowly turned to you. You were facing away from him, arms folded as you tried to shield yourself from the cool evening wind. You had no clue he was even behind you.

George sighed gently, shedding his jacket off and placing it on your shoulders without another word. He could see your whole body relax from the weighted piece of clothing, and he wondered if his scent was comforting for you too, as it was vice versa.

George heard you breathe out, but you sniffled afterwards. It broke his heart to see you like this. George looked around to see if anyone was watching, because if there was a chance this guy was cackling away in a parked car at the sight of you in tears, George would have had no problem kicking his headlights in and slashing his tires.

He dropped to the curb and sat down right next to you, not hesitating to circle his arm around your body.

At his touch, you curled yourself into a ball, and George scooped you up to squeeze you tight. And against his chest, when you knew you were safe from all harm, you gently sobbed.

George let you cry it all out, and the tighter you held onto him, the tighter he held onto you.

"Am I just unlovable George...? Is that it?" Your words were quiet and muffled, but George heard every syllable you mustered.

He pulled away from your embrace to look you in the eyes, and his grip on your arms were firm, but not tight. "Now Y/n, you do not for one second even think you're unlovable. That is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard." His eyebrows were lowered in anger at the very idea of you feeling unloved.

Tears began to well up in your eyes, and George's expression softened. He reached his hand up to your face, and he could feel you shaking. He pursed his lips and furrowed his brow again.

George wished then more than ever that he was the one who was supposed to see you. He would have shown up.

"Y/n, you deserve so much better than this. If you were mine, I’d make sure sitting alone on the curb, stood up, would be the last place you'd ever find yourself, especially when you were so excited to go out..."

George didn't know where his little spurt of confidence came from, but he was more focused on the words he was choosing to use with you, and what he was all going to say.

"... If I were yours...?" You sniffled again, cheeks and the tip of your nose turning pink and George paused at the sudden realization.

You still had a chance to be his.

And all because that boy didn't show up, he still had time to figure out how he could pull it all off; but it had to be tonight.

He took a deep breath.

"I mean, anyone would be lucky to date you. I just... I sometimes wonder why you were never mine. Why you're not mine..." his voice lowered throughout the sentence, and the end of his confession was barely above a whisper.

You watched George for a moment, lips parted, as if you couldn't believe your ears, and the young man panicked a little, deciding to disregard his last words before it suddenly became the topic of discussion.

"Oh, my Love," George's eyes suddenly saddened as he reached out to wipe away your fresh tears and smeared makeup with his thumb. Your bottom lip trembled at the contact, and he sighed.

"Just because he didn't show up doesn't mean your evening has gone to waste." He stood up and turned to look down at you.

"The night is still young." He then held his hand out in front of you, and you looked at it for a moment as if you didn't know what he wanted from you.

"Y/n... give me one night. Let me show you how a man should always treat you."

He wasn't quite sure if he just unintentionally asked you on a real life date, or if you thought of all this as an act, but even if you didn't reciprocate his feelings, it gave George the chance of a lifetime to at least pretend you were his, even if this opportunity only lasted one night.

"Please."

You didn't move at first, but George was patient. You eventually slowly reached your hand out, and George helped you up, not making the effort to let go of you afterwards.

George looked up at the restaurant, and did a double take. "... You... you don't even like fancy places like this, am I wrong?"  All you could think about when looking at him was that he knew you so well.

"A place like this on a first date is a clear sign he'd leave halfway through and I'd be stuck with the bill." George smiled a little, and so did you.

You wiped your final stray tear from your cheek and George gave your other hand a squeeze. "... I'd rather get a burger and go for a walk, to be honest."

"Then that's what we'll do," George confirmed with a nod. It was settled, then.

George and you strolled to the car, still hand-in-hand, and he courteously opened your door to help you in. He ran over to the other side afterwards and climbed in behind the wheel before pulling out and taking off to find somewhere for you both to eat.

You both came across this quiet burger place downtown, and the both of you were able to get a booth in the back for privacy so you could both scarf down your meals in peace.

George ordered the same food you did, and you both settled on sharing a milkshake together (a single milkshake eventually became two).

"God," you looked around the nearly empty joint before turning your gaze back to George. "Do you know how much more comfortable I feel in here?"

"Even when you're dressed like you belong in a dress shop window?" George smiled around his straw and you matched his grin. "Shut up. At least my hair is brushed out."

The poor guy had no clue until now that he forgot to comb his hair out after his depression shower, embarrassingly clawing his fingers through his locks to at least tidy up the mess on his head.

You just laughed out that you were teasing him, and the joyous hiccups from your laughter had George briefly forgetting everything negative that had happened so far that night.

After settling down a little, your food was brought out and you both started eating.

There wasn't much for the both of you to talk about other than the part of your day when you weren't together, and it wasn't like George wanted to mention what happened to him in the last two hours or make you upset by talking about your night.

Instead you both settled on joking about old times. Before the both of you knew it, George had you giggling and smiling once again before your dessert even came, and when the waitress came around to your table with your two-person cookie skillet, you grinned even wider.

You thanked the waitress before she went on her way, and you looked up across the treat to George, whom you were half expecting to be drooling over the cookie. Instead, he was in a dream-like trance, soft gaze fixed on you, and only you. You weren't too sure if he even knew the skillet was in front of him, he was so distracted.

"George...?" You called to him gently as to not frighten him when coming back down to reality. His response was almost immediate, like he could hear you.

And maybe he did.

"... I'm sorry, I don't know how many times I've tried to say this already tonight but have chickened out, but you look just..." George was examining every inch of you that he could see and you blushed, casting your eyes down to the table.

"Angel, look at me." George reached over the table and rested his hand over yours. You lifted your head to look him in the eye, and he hesitated for a moment. Your full attention flustered him, then again it always did, but he took a deep breath.

"You look heavenly, Y/n."

You said nothing. This time, he had you speechless, but nothing wasn't the response he was looking for.

"Dontcha believe me...?" His question echoed through your brain, and you blinked. George scanned your eyes after giving your hand a squeeze. He knew you had something to say, and he was at the edge of his seat in anticipation for your words.

"... Do you really think so?"

"Are you kidding me?! Y/n, I... when you came out of your room tonight I just... looking at you right now, I'm at a loss for words. Heavenly doesn't even scratch the surface. No word exists that perfectly describes how you look to me. Now, or ever."

There was yet another spurt of confidence that washed over George. He had a feeling his words and actions were getting the both of you somewhere, especially when his final sentence had you blushing the way you were.

At least he knew he was doing something right.

George's grip on your hand tightened a little, and he flipped your hands over so your palm was face-up in his. He brought your hand closer to him, and he kissed your fingertips before leaving a final one at the centre of your palm. His eyes never left your red face as he did this, and he grinned against your hand when you offered him a shy smile.

Oh... she IS actually liking this.

When he pulled away, George looked down at the still-untouched dessert, and he smiled, releasing another nervous breath he was holding as he finally let go of your hand. "Let's finish up so we can go on our walk. Sound good, my Love?"

You only nodded before digging in with him, every nudge of his hand against yours reducing you to a blushing mess, and George, who was gaining more confidence as every second passed, would just smile to himself knowing he was successfully turning the tables on you.

But it wasn't yet the time to give in and confess, as much as George wanted to. He still had a nice long walk to woo you on, and then he had to do the important step of walking you to your apartment door at the end of the night, and God knows that was the part he was dying to get to.

You finished your dessert not long after and George payed the bill. After helping you out of the booth, you'd left hand-in-hand again.

The both of you stepped out into the cool night and you looked up at George. "Are you cold? Did you want your jacket back?"

You were holding it in your other hand since you'd taken it off at dinner, and you shoved it in his direction without another word.

He laughed and took the jacket from you, unfolding it and pulling it back around your shoulders before rubbing his hands up and down your arms to keep you warm.

"You'll catch a cold without it. Besides, you look better in it anyways." He leaned in and kissed your cheek, smiling proudly to himself when he pulled away and continued to lead you to the car, deciding it'd be smoother to not turn around and gauge for a reaction from you.

Like before, George courteously opened the car door for you, and closed it when you were in. Their destination was his place. It wasn't for the reason one would think, but the idea of driving you to his home and inviting you in with every intention of walking right past the kettle made George's legs restless.

In reality there was a park down the road from his flat that cut pretty much directly to your own humble abode. You'd walked the trail hundreds of times together to look at the pretty flowers growing in the garden, but something told George that this time, like everything else happening that day, was going to be very different.

When you pulled up to his building he raced you to get to your door for the second time of the night; the first being at the burger place when you first arrived. He took your hand and helped you out of the car, and he didn't let go, even after locking the doors to his car and leading you both down the road.

There was a silence that fell between the both of you. It wasn't bad. You took this time to think about your night, as did George. With every step down the road and into the park you took, the smile on your face only grew wider. As for George, he began to sweat with every step he took.

Every foot forward led him closer and closer to your door, where he was going to finally let everything off his chest and confess to you. The problem was that George's confidence was quickly draining, and this was something he needed to do.

He eventually let go of your hand to wipe his palms off on his pant leg, and at the immediate loss of contact, you were turning to him with a confused look on your face.

"Sorry uh..." he breathed out slowly, cheeks dusted pink. "I-I don't know why, but I'm kinda nervous."

Your look of confusion faded into an unreadable one. "Was it holding my hand?"

George shook his head. "No no, not that, I want to hold your hand."

"So what's the problem?"

He just shook his head again. "Maybe it's just... the stress of making sure tonight is perfect for you."

"What?!" Your reaction was sudden, and George's eyebrows were raised high up on his forehead at your exclamation.

"George, tonight has already been perfect for me! I had a great meal, I'm on a lovely walk with you..." you reached out to take his hand again, and he lifted his gaze from his shoes to look you in the eye. You smiled up at him from under the streetlight, and George smiled back a little.

"Georgie, I would never have asked for a better night." You squeezed his fingers with yours and tugged him forward gently. "C'mon, Magpie. Let's get home. It'll be cooling down soon, and I don't want you walking outside much longer than needed tonight."

George followed behind, but you still took your time coming home since the both of you got caught up in another conversation. This time, it was about the flowers you were passing in the park.

"... I used to water those for you, y'know." He pointed to a cluster of marigolds. To think that was ten years earlier and they still stayed put, growing outwards and stronger than ever.

"I used to check on them every day to make sure they weren't dying. You told me one time you really liked those flowers and I just..." he smiled a little at the memory. "I just couldn't get enough of your smile every time you saw them."

You turned to look up at him. You had absolutely no clue he did that for you. It made you love the flowers even more, and your heart jumped a little when you realized that the marigolds were the very reason George insisted you both took the trail all the tine.

"I'll still come across them when passing flower shops. I always think of you when I see them."

"Wow. George, I... I never knew you paid that much attention to me."

"Why wouldn't I? You're my best friend."

And George didn't say anything after that, especially when you didn't respond to his last comment, which he didn't even mean to say.

By the time George could think up a sentence to save himself from friend-zoning the both of you right then and there, he felt like he'd left it for too long.

His heart was sinking, and he tried to shake off the comment best he could, and walked you the rest of the way home.

His stomach was in a knot as he looked up at your apartment building. The front door to the lobby looked intimidating, and his palms began to sweat again. You slipped your hand out of George's, and it distracted him from his racing thoughts.

"You think I'm gonna just leave you here?" His question was sudden, and you blinked once.

"I'm sorry?" You looked from George, to the apartment door which was ten feet away from the both of you. "But George, I'm home?"

"I have to walk you to your door." You laughed at his response, head thrown back as you sighed. "You mean to tell me you, George Harrison, are gonna walk up five flights of stairs in the next two minutes just to make sure you can hear me lock my door and know I'm safe?"

"Would it be a real date if I didn't?"

There was another beat of silence as George watched your eyes shift from left to right in thought. You pursed your lips a little, and then looked him in the eye.

"... Suppose it wouldn't be then, no."

"Then may I walk you to your door, Y/n?"

You finally answered him with a simple nod of your head, and George reached out to take your hand again. He wordlessly led you to the door which he opened for you, and then brought you to the flight of stairs. Nowhere else to go but up.

In about two minutes, you and George got to the fifth floor. As soon as he entered the hall, it felt like the walls were slowly closing together as you both took quiet, careful steps towards the end of the way.

The entire time, your hands were glued together, and no one let go, even when you were both finally stopped, and standing in front of your door.

"I'm sorry about tonight, Y/n. I know you were saying earlier tonight turned out perfect and everything but..." George's brain was still on that platonic comment he made on the walk.

"George, there is no one I would have rather spent tonight with than you. No one."

George squeezed your hand, and then sighed. "I just wish tonight happened under different circumstances."

"Different circumstances?" You repeated a little confused, and the boy in front of you pursed his lips and nodded his head.

Deep breaths. Here it goes.

"Y/n, ever since I found out about this date, my blood has just been boiling with jealousy for that boy. Hell, I still don't even know his name and I could tell you he isn't good for you."

You looked taken aback. Jealousy was definitely not where you thought he was going with all of this.

"I fell in love with you, Y/n. Years ago. And because I feared rejection, I didn't want to take my chances and say anything. But the truth of the matter is that I'd be the happiest person alive just to be able to love you openly. I can't stand to see you cry the way he made you tonight."

Again, you stood there, no words coming to mind to respond with. Your silence didn't make George stop.

"To think for years my feelings for you haven't gone away. I've always thought you felt the same, yet you were never mine." George paused. "When can this boy get you back again, Y/n?"

There was a long silence, his eyes searching yours for your answer, and you were staring up at him like a deer in headlights.

"I-- if I'd known-- I never thought-- George, I had no clue." He could see the lost look on your face, and it made his heart ache, especially when your lip began to tremble and your eyes started filling to the brim with tears.

"Why do you think I turned down every guy who's tried to get with me? I just... I never thought you'd love me back, Georgie." His emotions sank into a deep dark guilt. All this time, and you felt the same way about him...

And then he blinked.

You feel the same way about him!

George reached out to you, his hand cupping the side of your face and stroking your cheek with his thumb. Your tears began to fall, and he pulled you into his chest tightly for a moment. "My Love," he mumbled, pulling away just far enough for him to see your face again.

"Oh, even when you're crying, you are the most beautiful thing I've ever set eyes on..." There was a beat of nothing; just the sound of shallow breaths shared between the both of you before George began to inch in slowly towards you.

"... George, what are you doing...?" Your question was gentle, and you didn't stop him from coming any closer. You didn't want to stop him.

"Something I should've done a long time ago."

His attention fixated to your mouth once before your lips finally clashed together.

For over a decade, George had waited for the moment he tasted your lips; and now that it was here, he was almost scared he wouldn't know what to do.

The both of you were holding your breath since you both felt a little unsure at first, but it was a given, he was kissing his childhood best friend, and you were, too. You kissed back a little, and George exhaled lightly through his nose, a little relieved knowing you were getting a little more comfortable with the situation.

George's hands fell to your waist, fingers curling around your body as he eventually pulled you even closer. You parted your lips a little, and he bit down on your bottom lip, pulling away after hearing you gasp.

"Oh! Did I hurt you? I'm--" George could barely rush an apology out before you pulled him down to kiss him again, and pushing him backwards until his back was flat against your door. He watched as you closed the space between you again, and your lips were on his again.

His heart was pounding, ears ringing loudly as you slipped your tongue into his mouth, and all the boy could remember thinking about was how blissful it all was in that moment. George threw his arms around you and started pushing back just a little.

You pulled away from him to gasp in a breath, George's hands grabbing your arms and pinning you against your door so he could put you in the place he was moments before; to give you the moment to experience just a fraction of all the love he would be able to eventually give to you.

His lips briefly found the crook of your neck and you moaned quietly as George sucked at your skin a little, which only resulted in him pulling away just to lean back in to kiss your lips and swallow your pleasant hums.

You eventually pulled away to face him again, lips swelled and pink, and breaths quick. You never thought you'd have so much trouble breathing while kissing someone.

Then again, it's not everyday that the man you're kissing is George Harrison.

"I know it's rare to ask this on a first date but..." George leaned down to attach his lips to the column of your throat, and he hummed against your skin when you moaned gently, delaying your question for a moment.

"... Did you maybe wanna, I don't know, come in, stick around for some tea?"

"Is that even a question?" George asked lowly against your neck, and you smiled. You reached into your purse to retrieve your apartment keys, which you blindly stuck into the keyhole since George was back to kissing you again, and the both of you stumbled through the door as soon as you got it open.

You and George kicked your shoes off after shutting the door, and you pushed him up against the wall in the front corridor to kiss him once again.

Ten years was way too long for the both of you to be deprived of one another any further, and George gladly let you migrate your lips to his neck after a moment, tilting his head back for you to make things a little easier.

With your head buried into his neck and your arms circled around one another, George lazily opened this eyes to watch himself in that same mirror across the hall he looked into a few hours prior.

All the boy could do was smile to himself, breathing heavily as he watched your reflection switch to the other side of his neck after leaving a mark on the right side of his throat.

Not only was his reflection successful in this date tonight, but George himself pulled off the biggest risk he could imagine and it paid off.

He finally got the girl of his dreams.

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

A/A/N: honestly, this fic lives rent free in my head and it has been since I wrote it, so I gotta show it off to y'all. Again, I know it was long, but I really hope you enjoy it <3

PERMENANT TAG LIST

@culturefiendtrashqueen​

@rogermeddow

(message me if you want to be added to any of my oneshot/queen/beatles/chapter taglists)

#the beatles #john lennon #john lennon x reader #paul mccartney #paul mccartney x reader #george harrison #george harrison x reader #ringo starr #ringo starr x reader #paul mccharmly

[studiobeebo]

Looking Effervescent AF today my good bro; might I request one Corn Maze drabble with Soshiro Hoshina please? Love u, bye

-dippy 🦑

my dearest of Thanks my Dapper Dippy Broski ily mwah mwah

♡ Corn Maze ♡

Soshiro Hoshina x Unspecified Gender! Reader

as always if y’all enjoy this please remember that reblogs are greatly appreciated!!

“You think we go left here?” Soshiro asked, crouched over slightly to ensure his hand could stay securely wrapped around one that surprisingly wasn’t your own, but instead that of a young child who confidently tugged at said hand and huffed out a loud “YEAH LEFT!” in response to his question.

“Sure about that?” “Uh huh!” “Alright well if you’re wrong, I’m pretty sure there’s a corn monster that goes around eating little kids who get l-“ You smacked him before he could finish his sentence to which he gave a ‘What’d I do?’ look in response, but the little girl only laughed as she continued to pull him along through the maze.

See, this wasn’t your child nor did you even know the kid, yet here the two of you were, trying to find your way out of a corn maze that was weirdly difficult to navigate, weird little girl in towe.

It had started as a simple night out with just you and Soshiro, something that very rarely happened and that you were more than eager to take advantage of, but it was his idea to go to a fall festival he had seen advertised a few weeks ago and you excitedly agreed.

Your evening had started out damn near perfect, with cool yet comfortable weather and plenty of good snacks and drinks to keep you both happy as you wandered through the festival grounds checking out all the different booths and activities until you finally came to the end where a large corn field spanned out far beyond where you could see and a giant “CORN MAZE! ENTER IF YOU DARE!” sign hung above an entrance that had been placed a little off to the side.

You were about ready to turn around at first, your feet were already beginning to hurt anyways and it was clear that the sun would be setting in a half hour or so, but Soshiro was insistent that half an hour was ‘plenty of time’ to get through it and being annoyingly persuasive was something he could’ve mastered in, so after only a few minutes of back and forth debate you finally rolled your eyes and agreed.

Of course half an hour passed fairly quickly and you lost count of how many times you heard him mutter “Huh, coulda sworn that last turn would lead to the exit…” or something similar, but with that mischievous smile never leaving his face you weren’t totally sure he wasn’t just teasing you and leading you around in circles on purpose, but before you had the chance to bug him into letting you take the lead, you almost fell flat on your face after stumbling into something that came up to about your waistline and disrupted your walking.

You yelped, but with it being completely dark now you had to scramble to get your phone out to shine a light on what you had run in to, however a kid with a sucker stuck in her hair staring up at you was not what you were expecting.

“Hi!” She had exclaimed, seemingly unbothered by the shocked look on your face and the fact that she had popped up out of nowhere. “Um…hey..” You muttered back, but your shock was quick to turn to confusion and then to worry as you realized this girl was far too young to be out here on her own in the dark.

Still, even before you could say anything, Soshiro was already crouched next to the girl and calmly asked her a list of questions in an attempt to figure out the situation without scaring her, but she was surprisingly happy and explained that she got separated from her parents ‘a while ago’ as if it were just another one of those things that happened.

At first you weren’t all that concerned as you had noticed earlier that a handful of attendants stood around the exit of the maze and you figured they were there for situations just like this one, but your boyfriend was quick to mention that if anyone had been alerted about a missing kid they definitely would have been out here with flashlights and such looking by now, so you both came to the conclusion that her parents must have not been able to find their way to help either, so here you were now, trying to get yourselves and this kid back to safety as quickly as possible.

The girl's nonchalant attitude was a bit off putting to begin with, but after a while you were grateful that she was so cheery rather than being hysterical. She was quite the chatterbox too, droning on and on about different topics from her favorite toy trucks to which kids at school she thought were ‘buttheads’, and to your surprise, Soshiro was as patient as ever and chatted along with her happily. He even let her ‘lead the way’ as you had seen by the girl tugging him along, but you had noticed that he would only do so after looking around and determining the way she wanted to go was actually the right way.

Of course you knew he had been trained in the skill of calm evacuation, but even so it was a bit endearing to watch since you had never really seen him interact with children, though it seemed to help that the girl didn’t seem to mind it when he would joke about monsters or other such things and even teased him back a few times.

You were more than content just watching and giving your advice when you felt it was warranted and he didn’t seem to mind much himself, even gently hoisting the girl up into his arms and carrying her when she complained that her feet were hurting, though that was only after he told her that he fully expected her to carry him once his feet started to hurt.

Their conversation began to slow and you could tell by the way her eyelids were dropping that she was beginning to get sleepy, but right as she was about to doze off, Soshiro’s relieved “Geez, finally.” upon seeing the exit perked her right up. A moment later she was scrambling out of his arms upon seeing a group of attendees and who you presumed to be the girls' worried parents just outside the exit.

The two of you let out a sigh of relief upon seeing the girls parents damn near squeeze her to death while lovingly yet sternly reprimanding her for running off like she did, their attention turning to the two of you as she told her story about getting help from you and your boyfriend before they gave you just about a million different “thank you’s” before finally going on their way.

“So much for a night off.” Soshiro finally groaned out once they were out of earshot, rubbing at the back of his neck as if he were just exhausted, but you knew him well enough to know that the safety of others was something he put far ahead of his own needs and that he was just as relieved that the girl got back to her family as you were.

“Well at least you can give yourself a pat on the back for that daring rescue, hero.” You teased, leaning over to kiss his cheek while intertwining your fingers with his own. “But I think maybe next time I’ll pick the date.”

#at one point the kid was probably like ‘HURRY UP OLD FART >:00’ when u trail behind #and Hoshina instinctively goes ‘yeah hurry up old fart’ #and sees his life flash before his eyes #anyways I proofread this but I’m mad tired so I Am So Sorry I can’t spell #anyways I hope u like this dippy #or else 🔫🔫🔫 #jk ily #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #kaiju no. 8 x reader #hoshina soshiro #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #bee writes

[lilyofthesword-writes]

Continue (Legolas Oneshot) - Part 1

Summary: You have been ripped away from your world and tossed into one that is supposed to be pure fiction. You know the stories, how they are supposed to go. Despite your knowledge, you are unable to change the fates of the Fellowship you had grown so close to.

Pairing: Legolas x Modern!Reader

Word Count: 1,378

Warnings/Disclaimers: Starts off with angst but there is fluff at the end.

A/N: I didn’t realize what I was really doing until I was about halfway through. This is entirely self-indulgent, pulling bits of my life into the writing. Not sure why both of my Legolas oneshots have been starting angsty. I guess writing with him in mind is helping through my own chaos?

A/N (11/18/2021): Thought I would update this seeing as it is no longer a oneshot. Click the Masterlist link below to find the rest of the chapters!

Masterlist

The calm breeze that flitted through Caras Galadhon cooled your skin but did nothing for your mind. It all hurt so much. You knew what would happen to Gandalf - how he would fall. The books and movies all depicted him returning as Gandalf the white. Yet, it did nothing to soothe the torment you felt as he spiraled into darkness with the Balrog. You knew and could not do anything to help the wizard who had taken you in when he found you on the roadside.

Only one person truly understood your plight: Lady Galadriel. As she locked eyes with each of you when you had arrived, entering your minds, she stayed in contact with you the longest.

You have forbidden knowledge...

Your mind would not answer her back. All you could do to confirm was stare back with pleading eyes.

You are not from Middle Earth, and yet you know for certain what has yet to pass.

As your company was released to go and rest, Galadriel had stopped you, wishing for a continued audience with you. Who were you to deny her?

You didn’t miss the way your friends worriedly watched you depart with her, especially Legolas. Both he and Aragorn were highly observant. You knew they could tell something was off with you, but they were trusting you enough to say something when you were ready.

Galadriel led you across various stairways to her private space containing her mirror. Nervous anxiety washed over you as she circled you intently.

“You knew Gandalf’s fate, yet you did nothing. Why?” Her voice was cold, understandably so. They had been close for hundreds of years. Of course she was upset when she figured out that you could have saved him and did not.

“I couldn’t,” you spoke softly, afraid to raise your voice in case your body decided to revolt.

Her head angled as she observed you, soft blonde hair gliding across her shoulders. “Tell me, what is the future of the ring?”

“Fro-” Your throat immediately closed up, nearly choking you in the process.

Galadriel’s hand flew to her chest in surprise before she rushed to your side. “Breathe, child,” she spoke barely above a whisper as she urged you to sit.

Once you were able to take in air without it feeling like sand grinding within your windpipe, Galadriel started again. “I have not felt magic quite like that before...”

“I want to tell you, tell you everything,” you rasped, trying to keep the tears at bay. “But... I can’t.”

The ethereal elf in all her grace settled before you. “This form of binding magic is not one I can undo. It is not of this world. When I learned you were not of Middle Earth, I hardly imagined you were of an entirely different realm.”

You stared at the lush grass and moss beneath you and chuckled. “You know... Thousands upon thousands of people where I’m from know the stories of this world. Most would give anything to live it. Maybe fix things. Bet none of them ever thought about this.” You gestured to your throat. “If I can’t change anything, then why am I here?”

Taking your hands in hers, Galadriel beckoned you to meet her gaze. “No, you may not be able to change what has been written. Perhaps your true purpose lies where the story has ended.”

Your meeting with her ended shortly after, and she escorted you herself back to your companions. They had all waited for your return before retiring to bed, or at least they all tried. Pippin was the sleepy straggler. When you thought they were all out like a light, you quietly meandered off to the river in a more secluded area which is where you found yourself currently, staring at the water continuing down its path unhindered.

“What are you doing all the way out here?” a soft voice came from behind you.

“Legolas!” You sucked in a breath and chided, “Don’t scare a person like that!”

“My apologies,” he sniggered, taking a seat next to you. “My question still stands.”

“I guess... I guess I just wanted to think,” you sighed, returning your attention to the river.

“Think about what?”

Without even looking, you knew his eyes were sparkling with curiosity. They always were when he spoke with you. Although you suspected that this time that curiosity would be at least partially dimmed by recent events.

“Gandalf and what comes next...”

Legolas fell silent as though he already anticipated that answer. As you lost yourself watching the shimmering water, a warm hand laid overtop of yours on the grass beside you.

“Do not blame yourself, Mellon nin. We all regret his fall, but... For his sake, we must continue onward.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to answer or even look at him, feeling the tell-tale tightness of your throat. You desperately wanted to tell him, warn him of the following events, but that was not going to happen.

“There it is, again,” he muttered under his breath.

Chancing a glance at him, you chirped, “What?”

“I-it is nothing. Nothing you should concern yourself over.” His smile did little to hide his concern.

“Legolas,” you warned.

“I- I don’t-,” he stumbled over his words. “I didn’t want to worry you. At certain moments, there is a change in the air about you... Almost as though it is constricting your being...”

Your eyes nearly bulged out of your head, and you turned away from the river to face him directly. “You can feel it?”

His surprise painted his porcelain face. “Yes... I did not wish to say anything for fear of frightening you in case you did not realize what was happening.”

“Lady Galadriel called it binding magic. It makes itself very well known...” you shuddered.

“By keeping you from acting on what you know will come to pass?” he finished.

“How did you-”

“It was more of a guess, and you confirmed it. Back in the mines, there were multiple times where you would have revealed yourself but that magic stopped you. I felt the energy when you turned to Frodo as he was attacked by the cave troll. It was the same, if not amplified, when you tried to run after Gandalf as he distracted the Balrog. Your actions seemed... Early. Though I suspect Aragorn may have been the only other person to take notice.”

You turned away, guilt rising in your stomach. “Are you... Angry with me? Angry that I didn’t save him?”

“No,” his answer was immediate. His free hand found purchase under your chin, turning you to look at him again. “It’s not that you did not save him. You could not save him. When you froze going to Gandalf’s aid, the look in your eyes... It was not fear for your own life but fear for his. Had it not been for the magic that binds you, you would have been at that bridge before we could stop you.”

Closing your eyes, you pulled in a deep breath. “So, what comes next?”

“I suppose that depends on you. What do you want to come next?”

“I... I want to continue ahead with all of you. Lady Galadriel may be right. My real purpose may be what happens after all of this is done. I want to be there for it.”

Legolas’ hand moved from your chin to your cheek, stroking it with his thumb. A bright smile painted his lips. “Always so determined. You have fascinated me since Imladris.” The hand that remained on yours traveled to the other side of your face. “Should you wish it, I will remain by your side to help you through whatever the fates have in store for us and what may come even after all is said and done.”

Heat rose up your face to your ears. The elf you had fangirled over in your world was saying these things to you, lifting you up from the creeping depression that threatened to over take everything.

“I would like that.” You smiled as he rested his forehead against yours, thinking of the Lady of the Woods’ words.

Life continues beyond a story’s ‘Happily Ever After’ and ‘The End’. You decide what happens from there.

#legolas x reader #legolas x you #legolas #legolas imagine #lord of the rings #LOTR #lotr imagine #lord of the rings imagine #fellowship #fellowship of the ring #aragorn #gandalf #galadriel #frodo #samwise gamgee #frodo baggins #merry #pippin #boromir

[rampaigewolf]

Alright, here’s my experience with Dying light 2, this contains spoilers so if you haven’t played or finished I suggest you stop and scroll.

First off, I’d like to give props to Techland for going a different route for the fall. Instead of just having the Harran virus spread like covid, they made a cure, only for the GRE to fuck shit up AGAIN and create a stronger variant that basically ended the world. It shows how corrupt and evil GRE was, Kudos Techland. 👍

With that being said, FUCK THE GRE.

I am still absolutely horrible at parkour and died/broke my legs hundreds of time just like I did in the first game.

Even though their are no guns in this game, I still managed to be loud and proud.

I know everyone loved and misses Crane, but I really like Aiden.

I get scared every time I hear a baby/child crying and run the opposite direction because I’m still traumatized from the first game.

Other than that, I did hear dogs barking and looked everywhere to try to save it, until I realized it was a sidequest and I can’t believe Techland had me put a dog down. 😭

Going through any GRE offices had me paranoid af because i got jumpscared by the dead guy sitting in the office chair in the first game.

I like how in the first game everyone is like ‘no don’t go out after night it’s dangerous’ and in this game everyone is like ‘I got something for you to do, but you should probably wait until nightfall.’

Anyway, I didnt listen and ran into dark zones in broad daylight and get destroyed by virals. Lesson learned.

I liked Aitor at first, but then.... yeah no I don’t like the peacekeepers, I’m with the survivors all the way.

I get that A LOT of people like Hakon, but I really didn’t at him at first, because I just had a feeling he was sus and I was even more sus after he said he’d go and check out Barney and Sophie’s hideout.

I did save Hakon though, and I’m glad I did. I thought I killed him at the church and in a panic I rolled back and did the entire fight again to try to find a way to save him lol.

I really don’t like Major Jack Matt. I didn’t like Juan either but after that shit of whiskey he started making sense.

The Elevator cutscene was hilarious and Rowe and his squad didn’t deserve that 😭. They were the only peacekeepers I liked. That Building was a bitch to climb it took me and the rando helping me an hour to do it.

Honestly fuck Major Matt, I ended up giving the antenna to Frank. At least, Juan didn’t throw a fit about it.

I did save Frank and I wasn’t surprised at all when it was Major Matt who tried to kill him.

I haven’t talked about Waltz yet, but FUCK him too. I get trying to save your daughter but destroying the last city standing in the process is fucked up.

I cheered when I got the Lawan ending. She’s such a badass and I love her for it.

The ‘Good night and good luck’ at the end gave me chills.

Also props for whoever chose Help, I’m alive by Metric for the end credits, I actually stayed and listened.

I had a lot more to say but this post is already long so I’m gonna stop. I loved this game and would recommend it to everyone who likes story based games.

#dying light 2 #dying light #aiden caldwell #Kyle Crane #dying light Lawan #dying light Hakon #zombies #dying light 2 spoilers

[ignitedbynatsu]

Jealousy pt. 2

A/N: another update whatt 👀 here is the long awaited part 2 of jealousy! I hope you like it @softiebadbitch! I've written a couple more one shots, which are currenlty in my drafts, but I'm gonna be spreading them over the next couple weeks (at least try to because I'm so impatient af) since I have finals and not much time to come up with complete new story ideas.

Genre: maybe a bit of angst? Fluff

Warnings: some swearing, some doubt about the relationship

🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡🗡 🗡🗡🗡 

He shouldn’t mind, he never spared it any thought before, so why did it bother him now so much? He’s used to your extreme friendliness, so why was it that he was only now getting annoyed by it? Was it because of Laxus? It couldn’t possibly be, he trusted the both of you with his whole heart. The only thing he was certain of was the fact that something didn’t sit right with him when he saw you and Laxus return from the job, shoving each other playfully around. He shouldn’t be surprised that you managed to crack Laxus, you had that effect on people after all, but for him also to break so easily? It just didn’t feel right.

“There you are!” your angelic voice filled his ears, and all of his worries he that had occupied his mind only seconds ago, suddenly seemed to vanish when you placed a short sweet kiss on his lips as a way of saying hello.

“How was the job?” Freed smiled down at you as he waited for you extravagant explanation you always gave when you returned from a mission.

“Laxus was totally exaggerating, he could’ve easily done the job by himself” You playfully roll your eyes at how he made it sound like you were the only one who could’ve helped him with the job “but it was fun! I finally got to see a more personal side of Laxus. I now truly understand why you admire him so much. He really is an amazing mage and surprisingly funny too!”

On the outside, the green-haired mage nodded along as you kept explaining all the ‘cool’ stuff Laxus did during the mission, while on the inside he wanted nothing more but for you to stop talking. He was acting petty, he knew it, he just couldn’t help himself “sounds like you two had a lot of fun, how about we end the day with a home-cooked meal and a movie?”

Freed was ready to leave these weird feelings behind and just bask in your love and affection, but you seemed to have other plans, quite literally for that matter “I would love to, but Laxus had already asked me to join him for some drinks to celebrate the success of the job”

“I see” he pressed his lips in a thin line as his eyes trailed towards the blonde mage. He knew he and his two other friends were planning something by the way they were talking and sneaking a glance at the two of you every so often. He just hadn’t quite figured out what. Did they have a bet that you wouldn’t be able to crack Laxus? Or was it something different?

He opted for the second option when Laxus appeared by your side, not sparing Freed even a glance “You ready to go?” The way Laxus hand rested on your lower back to guide you out of the guild, made the hairs on his arms stand up, but he refused to show any hint of annoyance.

“Bye, love, see you tonight!” You called out to Freed as you let Laxus guide you out of the guild.

The following days, the uneasy feeling never left Freed, in fact, it only got worse. He could feel his calm and composed act break, but he didn’t care. The anxiety and jealousy he was feeling were much more important than a stupid image. He still couldn’t wrap his head around what was going, and perhaps that was the most frustrating part of it all.

He shouldn’t feel jealous, he knows he shouldn’t. He knew you two would never do something to hurt you, he knew that deep down, and yet his mind kept playing tricks on him, sending him down the dark rabbit hole known as doubt.

It was only when Laxus willingly gave you a hug, that he decided he had enough “Okay, what the actual fuck is going on”

You were taken aback by the strong language coming out of your boyfriend's mouth. You didn’t know whether to be more shocked at the fact that he raised his voice out of nowhere or the fact that he just cussed at you. “I- What?”

“What’s going on between you two? And don’t you dare say nothing. You’re suddenly best buddies out of nowhere and decide to never leave each other alone for more than a second after that. Didn’t you two think that was at least a bit suspicious? You better come clean with me right now, or so help me God” Freed’s eyes were literally shooting fire as they darted between you and Laxus.

You had never seen this side of your boyfriend, and it kind of terrified you. Terrified by how he suddenly blew up without any warning. Did he give you any signs this past week? Were you being a horrible significant other for not hesitating for a moment and take his feelings into account? You should’ve known, but then again, why hasn’t this happened before considering you’re like this with everyone else too?

“Freed, I-“ You were still somewhat speechless, and before you could even sincerely apologize, you heard Bickslow cheering from behind you “finally!”

You whipped your head back so quick, you’re surprised it didn’t give you whiplash as you looked at him and evergreen who were now approaching you three “Took you long enough”

“It’s still less than a week” Laxus shrugged nonchalantly. Freed had cooled down a bit, but his eyes still held a hint of rage in them, “what the hell is going on?”

“Oh my, Freed, you sure get a foul mouth when you break your façade” Evergreen snickered while the said mage shot her a death glare, absolutely not in the mood for her snarky remarks.

“Can someone please tell me, us-” your eyes darted towards Freed for a mere second when you said that before eying your other friends again “-what is going on?

“Right, right. So, Evergreen over here was confused as to how Freed never got jealous over the fact that you’re so friendly with everyone” Once again you were questioning your qualities of being a good girlfriend “and then we realized that we had never seen Freed break his composed attitude under any circumstance-“

“so you thought, why not toy with our relationship?” the annoyance coated every word that left the green-haired mage’s lips. To say that he was disappointed in his friends was putting it mildly.

“It makes us look like bad friends if you put it that way” Evergreen mumbled as she looked away in shame. To be fair, she didn’t think Laxus would actually succeed in his job.

“Because you kinda are, right now” Freed sighed in disbelief at the obvious statement Evergreen just made “and for you to actually participate in one of Evergreen’s scheme’s, Laxus? What did they offer? You know what? I don’t care. Hope it was worth it.”

Freed stormed out of the guild, ignoring the shouts of his friends. You sighed deeply before finally speaking up as well “what you guys did, was kind of messed up, but I’ll talk with Freed about it and get him to soften up a little.”

“Thank you, (Y/N). We really never meant for this to happen. We’re so sorry” Bickslow apologized with the other two chiming in.

“Whether he forgives you guys is up to him, but I’ll see what I can do.” You hummed, ready to leave as well but stopped when you heard Laxus voice. “What about you?”

“Next time when you have an idea like that again, maybe stop and think about our feelings too. See you guys tomorrow” You gave them a small smile and actually left this time.

Once home, you immediately noticed a frustrated Freed, sitting on the couch with his head in his hands. “I’m home”

“(Y/N), I-“ You stop him before he can muster any more words “stop if you’re going to apologize, don’t. You had every right to act the way you did. I’m surprised it didn’t happen sooner, now that I think about it. I’ve been acting like a terrible girlfriend and for that I’m sorry, I’ll do better from now on. I promise”

Freed quickly got up and took a couple of long strides before stopping in front of you. He placed both his hand on your cheeks, lifting it slightly, so you were looking him in the eyes “No, you stop that right now. You’re not a bad girlfriend, you’re the furthest thing from it. I knew what I would get myself into when I asked you to be my girlfriend. I didn’t expect you to change, nor do I expect that from you now. I’ve let my insecurities taken over whenever I saw you with Laxus, which I should’ve never done since I deeply love and trust the both of you.”

“You know I would never leave you for Laxus, right?” You whispered, scared that if you’d talk any louder your voice would break. “You should really give yourself some more credit. Laxus isn’t superior to you. In any case, you are superior to him”

“You only say that because you love me” he rolled his eyes, but appreciated your attempt at cheering him up nonetheless.

“Maybe, but does that really matter? You’re perfect the way you are, and I love you with every single cell in my body and believe me there are a lot” You joked lightly, trying to get rid of the tense mood, in which you succeeded cause you even managed to get a light chuckle out of Freed. “In all seriousness, though, I’m sorry I made you feel like you couldn’t trust me.”

“And I’m sorry for even doubting you in the first place” He removed his hands from your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on top of your head while wrapping his arms around your figure, your hand automatically sneaked around his waist as you laid your head against his chest.

“You know, Bickslow, Ever and Laxus really didn’t mean any harm but that horrible stunt they did” you mumbled as you both swayed slightly from side to side.

“I know, I’ll forgive them eventually, I just want to let them dwell on it for a little bit more.” He hummed in agreement. You lifted your head from his chest to look at him with an amused smirk on your lips, “what?”

“You really do have an evil side when you get ticked off. Remind me to never get on your bad side” you shook your head in amusement before laying your head back on his chest, feeling the vibration of his laughter against the side of your head.

#fairy tail #fairy tail imagine #gray fullbuster #fairy tail imagines #natsu dragneel #lucy heartfilia #fairy tail x reader #laxus dreyar #lucy heartifilla #natsu dragon slayer #fairy tail lucy #fairy tail gray #freed imagine #freed x reader #freed justine #fairy tail freed #freed imagines #fairy tail jellal #fairy tail natsu #fairy tail fluff #fairy tail angst #ft laxus #ft natsu #ft freed #laxus fairy tail #laxus dragon slayer

[katytheinspiredworkaholic]

I’ve been rewatching CM and god, what I wouldn’t give for them to bring TG back for this revival. I haven’t even watched seasons 12-15 yet because I’m in denial about him being gone 😭😭😩

omg I haven't watched it either xD I've been holding off watching s11e22, The Storm, for like a month I swear. Which, I know is going to be amazing but I also have heard it's the beginning of the end and I'm not readyyyyyyy.

I would give anything for TG to come back. A n y t h i n g. But idk what CBS feels is the appropriate amount of time to be blacklisted or whatever the hell they did 🤷‍♀️ despite how it would be so easy to write him back in, and the missed opportunities is already making my skin crawl.

Okay. This was going to be a quick answer, but I've been THINKING about this way more than I should lately, without ever having watched 12-15 but I feel like I know enough, and with all the projects I'm going to be finishing/starting soon I know I won’t have time to do anything with my ideas. So I'm just going to type this little beginning I have plotted out and maybe one day I'll make it into the fic I want it to be:

(I know you didn't ask for a hc/blurb thing but surprise you get one xD)

CW: Spoilers for season 11-15 that are probably inaccurate af, fighting, violence, bit of blood and injuries talk, some profanity. 

-

((I legit have this all plotted out like a full season, and picture everything as shots and scenes and I know exactly how I would want to bring Hotch back.))

-

It would start in a small suburban town in Indiana, legit white-picket fence, middle of nowhere, off the grid town. With the most pedestrian name ever, we might as well call it Mayberry. Typical weekend morning, bright green grass and trees and summer sunshine lighting it all up, they still get papers delivered it’s that picturesque. And it’ll pan to all sorts of people on this street of nice, two-story houses, and finally zero in on not the man picking up his paper from his front porch, but the jogger slowing down that the man calls to next door, calling him a name we’ve never heard before -- but the jogger answers with that dark eyed squint and a nod... and it is Aaron Hotchner. Or the man who used to be Aaron Hotchner. He hasn’t gone by that name in years, WITSEC provided him and Jack with new ones.

His house isn’t even really decorated like a home, he’s been in enough over the years to know tell-tale signs of what a happy home should entail. Photographs, memorabilia, nostalgia tucked away in corners -- they don’t have that. He has a couple of photographs he keeps in his office, the only two in inconspicuous view being a photo of Haley and Jack when he was two years old, and a photo of his team the day he completed the FBI triathlon and they all showed up to support him. Everything else of their old life is in boxes in a storage facility in downtown D.C., under another false name that can never be linked back to them. 

Mr. Scratch was a poor excuse for why he and Jack were still under WITSEC, but he hopes near daily that it was enough of a reason that no one would question why he didn’t return once that monster was dead. That no one smart enough to read between the lines would go digging for more reasons, or worse -- try to find him -- and they pictured him living a happy retirement very similar to the charade he is living now. 

But Aaron Hotchner was never meant for retirement. No matter how easy and simple his days have been the past few years. It was only a matter of time. 

He walks through his home that looks more like the insides of a Home Living magazine, to his kitchen which is bright and spacious and tiled white that he knows Haley would have loved, getting a glass of water from the sink and chugging it all in one go. It isn’t until he’s getting a second glass that he hears it. The faucet was supposed to have masked any disturbance, they were careful in when they moved, how they placed their feet, the slowness of the their approach -- but not enough.

Hotch keeps his shoulders relaxed, his spine still ram-rod straight but that’s just how he stands and it keeps tension ready at a moment’s notice. Keeps him on alert, which he needs as he takes slower sips of water and lets all his other sense shift to a heightened awareness. Knows this house like the back of his hand, even if he’s never allowed himself to consider it home, so he knows which floorboards creak and where all the furniture is strategically placed. Always prepared for something like this to happen, even if he never imagined someone would be so bold. 

Their mistake.

With a careful tick of his head, peripherals his only guidance, he strikes before the intruder gets to. An iron grip and momentum that propels their face into the metal of the sink basin, shocking them that what their file was so misleading about their target. Retired FBI agent, almost 60 years old, living in Pleasantville with a picket fence and a vegetable garden. This should have been easy. The intruder is stunned by the blow, attempts a quick recovery where they lash out and get a few good body shots into the older man -- but he’s built like a brick wall, can take a blow and give it back twice as hard -- a few more precise hits and another crack of their face to the sink that shatters the bridge of their nose leaves the attacker slumping to the floor. 

“You didn’t do your research,” Hotch tells them, breathing a little heavy, opening up a drawer usually deemed for junk and pulls out zipties and an ancient looking cell phone buried deep at the back. “Sloppy. I expected more from him.” 

The attacker kicks out Hotch’s knees in a fit of rage (at having his skill set insulted so), leaving them both crashing to the floor. They grapple and fight a bit more, knocking dishes from the counters and pots and pans to the floor from the grill top island, but Hotch is so well-trained in take downs he gets the slighter man pinned with only a split lip and a single hitch in breath. He barely broke a sweat. Knocks the guy out clean, two solid punches to his face, and he stops because he knows better. Has been there before, and they need to question whoever was sent to his house to kill him. 

He’s barely off the floor, the intruder binded and stuck in a corner when Jack walks in from early morning soccer practice. Takes one look at the kitchen, his dad with blood in the corner of his mouth, and the guy all in black bound by zipties and already knows what happened. Sixteen, nearly as tall as his father now, he looks only mildly worried for all of two seconds until he sees that his dad has an old flip cell phone held up to his good ear, awaiting a connection with their handler in Indianapolis. 

“... Does this mean we get to go home?” 

The shot would pan back to Hotch, and he wouldn’t answer him, just tells the person on the phone to ‘patch him through, they have a situation’, and there would be no very obvious look in answer to Jack’s question. But all of us who know him, know the subtle changes in expression and the slight softening to that stern frown, knows what his reply would have been.

-

The very next scene would be the BAU. JJ and Emily walking at a brisk pace covering a debrief, since they basically run the department now. Everyone has been called in, everyone, retired and moved away and even the ones who cut all ties have been contacted. JJ has just gotten off the phone with Elle, who is working as a liaison in Rome and assured her that if anyone showed up in her home to attack her that they would be leaving in a body bag. But she appreciated the heads up. 

In the bullpen it’s more like a family reunion than anything. Garcia has just gotten off the elevators, a flurry of color and blonde curls and bright as ever, Morgan and Savannah are trying to corral Hank and the twins (both girls and pure chaos now that they can walk) while still making introductions with the new team and their families, and asking if Reid or Rossi know anything about what’s going on as JJ gets there and asks for everyone’s attention. 

“Not everyone is here yet, Kate and her family are on their way from upstate, Will’s getting the boys from school, and Alex and her husband are on a plane, but we need to get started as soon as possible.”

“What’s is going on, JJ?” Morgan asks, passing off one of the twins to Penelope who is in full baby fever mode despite what is obviously a very bad circumstance that has brought them all together. It’s a juxtaposition that has put everyone on edge. It doesn’t help when JJ and Emily look at each other as if in confirmation, trying to decide who is going to tell them.

“Okay, that doesn’t inspire confidence,” Rossi points out. “What happened?”

Emily sighs and makes a gesture for JJ to take the floor, since she has been on point for most of this.

The bull pen is silent in anticipation.

“Earlier this morning, Hotch was attacked in his home in Indiana,” she says, and whatever anyone thought was going on -- that wasn’t it. The shock across the room is like a bomb has detonated.

Rossi curses something out in Italian, looking down, and JJ immediately realizes how this all sounds. But doesn’t even get to backtrack as Reid looks completely devastated and Garcia like she’s about to cry and everyone else starts shouting questions at her. 

“What happened to Jack?”

“How did they even find him? What the fuck is wrong with WITSEC?!”

“Is he okay?” asks Tara, the only intellectual who can see the panic now blooming on JJ’s face.

“Yes, yes! He’s okay, sorry, no -- Hotch is fine. The guy who tried to kill him... not so much, but he should be conscious soon so they can question him.” 

“Jesus Christ, JJ,” Morgan says looking like he just aged ten years in the past 30 seconds. “Lead with that.”

“Sorry, I’m sorry. He’s okay, Jack is okay, they’ve been picked up. But... there’s a lot we need to be filled in on,” she admits, which quiets the room once more. “Apparently, the WITSEC had nothing to do with Mr. Scratch. There’s something much bigger and more dangerous going on, and he went under to keep us all safe. As well as himself, and Jack.” 

“What is it?”

JJ makes a gesture with her hands splayed as she looks a little lost. “I only know bare bones, we have to wait to hear the specifics and get everyone somewhere safe.” 

“You think we’re going to trust WICSEC after this?!”

Emily intervenes this time, “We have a plan, or... Hotch has a plan, I think. We’re just learning about everything as we go, he’s really the one that knows the most about it.”

“Then where is he?” Morgan speaks up again. “If he’s been pulled out, and we’re all in danger, why isn’t he here explaining this to us himself?” 

It’s a good question, and everyone looks expectantly at the two women leading the informal briefing. 

“Will he come back at all?” Reid asks, speaking up for the first time. It’s been years, that’s a long time to rethink a life like the BAU, and everything it entails.

JJ takes a deep breath. “He’s... in--”

“Out-processing.” 

Hotch is at the back of the room. Everyone turns to him, even JJ and Emily look surprised to see him so soon.  ((But we all know the CM cinematography love that kind of return shot, so I’m catering to it. For situational parallels if nothing else. Imagine the gif sets.))

“I pushed it as fast as they could go, but WITSEC always drags their feet.” The familiar drone, dry barely-there-humor, breaks whatever spell that had been over the room at the sight of the old Unit Chief. Disbelief and relief and stunned surprise litter every expression, and although Penelope looks like the first to say something, her words change course just as she opens her mouth. Because  Hotch is still in civilian clothes, a duffle-bag over his shoulder he used as a go-bag for decades, and beside him with a bag of his own with messy dirty blonde hair is--

“Oh my God, is that Jack!?” she near sobs, the teenager smiling at her in a way that looks so much like Haley, and she goes to hug him first with the boy meeting her halfway. “You’re so tall! And so grown up, look at you!” There’s definitely tears and the team converges on the Hotchners all at once. Reid hugs Hotch first, as tight and bone-crushing as that night in Atlanta all those years ago, followed soon after by Rossi who looks like he might shake the man but just hugs him tight and plants an absurdly embarrassing kiss on his cheek that finally cracks Hotch’s expression into something like a smile. Everyone hugs, everyone, Savannah calls him Aaron instead of Hotch because that was how he’d introduced himself all those years ago, the twins wave shyly and he shakes hands with the newer members that never got to meet him but have heard very tall tales about him for years and years. 

(And y’all, it would be the best damn scene and I would sob like a baby watching it.)

Morgan would be the one that would hold back and let the others go first, but it would also be the most profound when Hotch goes to shake his hand and the other man uses that to pull him into a tight hug of his own. 

“I’m glad you can still hold your own,” he’ll tease with nearly no heat behind it. Hotch hears it for the caring that it is.

“Like hell I would let that happen twice in my own home,” he assures him. 

Everyone settles down, and Emily leads some finer points of what’s going to happen with everyone in the next few hours. Days. Weeks, even, because there’s no knowing what is going to happen next. Hotch observes her, and there HAS to be a shot where she glances over to him and they share a look of understanding -- because she is Unit Chief now, and he approves of what he sees. 

But she turns the floor over to him, and Hotch explains what’s going on.

((I’m going to leave the finer points out about the case and the unsub, mostly because I haven’t finished ironing them out yet and I hope once I watch the remaining season I will be able to much more easily))

But at SOME POINT in the briefing, when Hotch is explaining what happened with the assassin in his home and how he apprehended him, and Emily maybe interjects with the injuries sustained and that they are still waiting for the man to regain consciousness. Penelope will 100% lean over to where Jack is sitting beside her and say without flinching, “Your dad is such a bad ass.”

((I also plan on bringing up Reid was in prison in this scene but it will be more humorous than anything because of Hotch’s reaction, stay tuned on that one. Again I’m not there yet))

((and where I’m taking them is also a secret because I need to do research and it will be so damn cool, but Hotch has everything completely planned out -- like he does. Goes as far as asking the few who question him “Secure enough for you?” when he drops where they will be staying and the protection they will have. Full blown mic drop moment.))

“So gather all of your belongings that you have here. Secure pets and homes, call the kid’s schools, whatever you need to do,” Hotch informs them, stepping back into his old shoes as team leader without even meaning to. But no one tells him to stop. “We need to be in the air ASAP, the jet is being prepped as we speak so we need to move on this.”

He leaves it at that, and everyone doesn’t move. Watching, waiting, smirking a little bit (Penelope, maybe even Reid), until he gives in.

“Wheels up in 30.”

Garcia giggles so much she near cackles with it. “Oh, I just got goosebumps!” And by Emily’s smirk and Morgan’s shared grin with Reid, a million watts between them, everyone is up and moving and pulling out cell phones to get their affairs in order.

Rossi sidles up to Hotch at that point, also openly smirking that they got him to say those four time-honored words. “Welcome back, Aaron.”

And Hotch, well -- he looks around the room at the family he had to leave behind without any hope of seeing them again, and feels every hardened edge in his face and demeanor soften. Before he looks to Dave and tells him what’s been going through his head ever since he walked back through the doors of the BAU.

“It’s good to be home.”

((END SCENE))

#CM SPOILERS #If only I could write fic full time xD #GOD I've been dying to write all that down for weeks #and then you my beautiful anon sent that ask and I jumped at the opportunity #sorry I used you for this but I'm so glad I did #I hope you enjoy it if you don't mind all the spoilers #also if anything doesn't line up with canon I am SO SORRY I legit haven't finished season 11 #and I haven't met any of the new team. Not even Luke #But they would all be there #full cast. chaos. It would be awesome #katyswriting #criminal minds fanfiction #no pairings #Aaron Hotchner

[meigh-day]

Meet Cute (Tendou x F!Reader)

Title: Meet Cute

Pairing: Tendou x F!Reader

Warnings: Fluff!

Status: Complete

Word Count: 2.1k

———————————————————–

"I can do this..." You mumble to yourself, eyes focused on the single page menu in your hands. The words scrawled across the page wanted to seem familiar but only a couple managed to find their meaning while the rest just sat there taunting you. Maybe choosing to eat out was a bad idea. It had been only a couple of weeks since you'd uprooted your whole life and moved to beautiful Paris. Sure, your apartment wasn't the prettiest or the biggest and yea maybe not actually speaking a word of French prior to moving wasn't the brightest idea but you couldn't say you regretted the decision. Not yet anyway. A kind looking waitress approached your table, pen poised to take your order as she spoke to you. Her words came quick and left you staring up at her with an awkward smile while she stared at you, expectantly at first and then confused when you said nothing.

"Oh... uh... un moment..." Is all you finally manage to stammer out in your very limited French. She sighs a bit but nods and disappears back inside, leaving you to stare a bit longer at the menu as you worry your lip between your teeth. With a sigh you place the menu flat on the table. Resting your chin in your palm as you stare out at the bustling street before you. People wandered by, laughing with friends, arms full of shopping or flowers, hands intertwined as soft words passed between them. It seemed familiar in a way, watching others pass by on their way to or from some place. Yet, that familiarity only seemed to make you feel all the more alienated, amplifying that feeling of loneliness that was starting to creep up on you. You let out a soft hum of acknowledgement, your train of thought derailing immediately after as you realize someone was talking to you and you'd absentmindedly acknowledged them.

"Ah, sorry!" You sit up, turning your attention towards the source. An amused smile greets you as a pair of sharp red eyes catch your own. For a moment you sit stunned, mind stuck on one word: pretty. A short chuckle brings you back and you clear your throat as you try to think of something, anything to say to this stranger. "Uhm... Ah... P-pardonner monsieur." You offer up a stammered apology, though you aren't sure if you are sorry for not hearing what he said or for deciding to grace this café and the city with your inadequate French. Both maybe?

He laughs and shakes his head before pointing to the seat across from you as if to ask permission. You nod, offering him a somewhat nervous smile as you watch him take a seat. He was tall and thin with the prettiest red hair you had ever seen. He squints his eyes at you a moment before plucking the menu from the table and reading it over. With nothing else to occupy your attention, you watched him, curious why he had decided to approach a complete stranger.

"Hmm, do you like sweet stuff?" He questioned, eyes peering at you from atop the menu, not a hint of French accent in a single syllable.

You smile and nod, humming in affirmation before your eyes widen. "Wait... You speak... You're not..." A sigh of relief passes your lips as you relax in your chair, grateful to not have to stammer and stutter through the minimal French you'd managed to remember. The red headed man snickered at your obvious relief, hiding his smirk behind the menu.

"Geez, you poor thing. I admire your courage."

"Courage?"

"Yea. I didn't try my hand at dining out for like the first 2 or 3 months." He lowered the menu, his smirk now visible to you as he placed the menu back down on the table.

"Oh, heh, yea probably not the smartest move. It just smelled really good and my stomach overruled my brain."

He nodded, almost as if to say he understood the feeling before glancing back up at you. "I know we just met and all but do you trust me?" He taps the menu as he asks, indicating the reason behind his question.

"I might be inclined to trust you a little more if I knew your name..." You chuckle, watching his eyes widen in the realization that not a single word of introduction had passed between you. The smirk that had been on his lips is replaced by a sweet smile, his squinted red eyes soften as his whole express shifts from that slightly mischievous one he'd been wearing to a rather warm one.

"Ah, yea. It's Tendou, Tendou Satori."

Several minutes later, introductions now over and your order placed by the very gracious man before you, you two sat chatting back and forth. Both curious what had brought each of you to Paris, almost equally as unprepared. You found out Tendou was attending school to get his associates degree in bakery and pastry arts with the intent on training to become a chocolatier after. You stared at him, eyes wide with excitement as he spoke very animatedly about his latest project.

"But yea, not super exciting or anything." His own excitement dwindled a bit, nervousness settling in as he realized he'd been prattling on about himself for the last ten minutes.

"That sounds incredible!" You finally say. It had been so fun watching and hearing him talk about something he clearly loved.

"What about you?"

"Me? Ah..." The main reason you'd come to Paris was school. Well that's what you told people when asked and it was true. Though you couldn't deny to yourself the underlying reason for moving halfway across the word was to get away from your family. They had wanted you to stay local, go to college and work at your uncles company when you graduated. What a nicely planned future, all neat and packaged with a bow. It wasn't what you wanted though and you expressed that on many occasions. In the end you decided that if you were going to go to school for what you wanted you might as well do it as far away as possible while you were at it. Not wanting to unpack any of that though you gave him a very watered down version of why you'd come to Paris.

Tendou could tell as you spoke that something was missing from your story. Maybe it was the way your eyes shifted around as you spoke, or the stiff smile on your lips, but it was clear to him you maybe weren't telling the whole truth. Though considering he was more or less a perfect stranger, he couldn't fault you for that. Just as you were wrapping up your food arrived so any further talk regarding your coming to Paris halted in favor of eating whatever deliciousness Tendou had kindly ordered.

"Ah, that was so good." You breath out happily, leaning back in your chair in an effort to alleviate the fullness in your stomach. Tendou gave you a wide grin as he set his empty cup down. "I did a pretty good job guessing at what you'd like then?"

"Mhm!" You agree enthusiastically. "God knows what I would have ordered if not for you. So.. uh..." You sit up a bit, fixing your eyes on him as your smile softens. "Thanks. I really appreciate it."

He shakes his head, waving off your gratitude. "Nah don't worry about it." The waitress comes back around and leaves the bill, just the one, but before you can even think about how to fix this, Tendou has paid for the both of you.

"Oh no you don't have.. "

"Consider it a welcome to Paris gift." He stands and smiles down at you before slowly turning, a bit of reluctance in his step.

This was not how you had anticipated your lunch going. If anything you thought you might order something, hopefully delicious but at the very least edible, in your awful broken French and then go home. You couldn't fathom you'd end up meeting someone so kind and generous, who you maybe also thought happened to be the most beautiful person you'd ever seen. Yet you had, and now you were sat in your chair like a complete idiot watching his back grow smaller and smaller, he'd be lost in the crowd by now if not for his lovely hair.

"What am I doing?!" You harshly mutter to yourself as you stand, grabbing up your jacket and bag before breaking out into a run.

Tendou chewed on his lip as his feet carried him away from the small café. It wasn't like it was totally unusual for him to talk to strangers but he'd never just invited himself to eat with a complete stranger, pay for their meal and then leave. Yet here he was, having done all that, though the latter was being done rather reluctantly. Part of him wanted to turn around and go back to you. You'd only spent the better part of an hour together but he was curious about you. There was something that had drawn him towards you. At first he thought he'd gone to you out of the desire to help, and that was part of it to be sure, but maybe there was more to it. Sure your wobbly French had drawn him over but that wasn't why he stayed. Was it the way you had smiled up at him? Or was it the way you sat and listened to him ramble on with actual interest? Perhaps it was the gentle look on your face when he'd caught you staring off into space. Whatever it was, it had his already slow pace halting.

"Tendou!" His eyes widen at the shout of his name, turning to see you waving at him as you run, reaching him a moment later half out of breath.

"Miss me already?" He jokes, watching as you lean down, bracing your hands against your thighs while you attempt to catch your breath. He isn't kept waiting long as you stand upright, a nervous chuckle finally coming out in response to his initial reply.

"Kinda, yea."

"I-- uh... What?" Tendou falters as he tries to process what you just said, not trusting his ears.

"I know we really don't know each other but it seems like such a shame to just... ignore this."

"Ignore what?" He asks, genuinely confused.

"This!" You state as you frantically motion between the two of you. "I mean what're the odds we'd even meet. Besides, I don't know about you but I don't really know anyone around here and it'd be really nice to change that..." You end with a shrug, starting to second guess this whole endeavour as you watch Tendou stare down at you. His dark red eyes were wide at first, surprised that you had even bothered to run after him but even more so that you wanted to be...well friends or at the very least friendly. His look of surprise softened a moment, a smile on his lips before he narrowed his eyes at you, a glint of mischief in them.

"Sounds pretty suspicious to me but I suppose I can show you around or whatever." His smile widens, almost curling at the ends. "But it'll cost ya."

"C-cost me?" Oh no, maybe this was a bad idea. Perfect stranger remember?! "W-what?"

"Whoa now." He chuckles, holding his hands up in as if the action would ward off whatever dubious thoughts were drifting through your mind. "Just your number... It'd be pretty hard to show you around if I can't get a hold of ya."

"Oh... OH, yea right." You nod, cheeks tinged pink from embarrassment. You pull out your phone and enter his details, not really sparing him a glance, too mortified by the assumptions that had sprung to mind.

"I'll text you so you have my number too." You mumble as you type a short message and hit send. A moment later you hear a ding and Tendou pulls out his phone.

"Ah, is that the time?!" He practically yells as the screen lights up, his carefree smile replaced with panic. "Shit, I gotta go!" He offers you an apologetic smile before hurrying away, leaving you a little startled by his sudden departure but overall happy with the outcome. Your grin down at your phone only to see it light up as it buzzes in your hand.

(02:37pm) Y/N: Hey it's Y/N :)

(02:41pm) Tendou: You Free tomorrow?

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #tendou x reader #tendou fluff #tendou #tendou satori

[mxvladdy]

Diavolo- True Form

Whoooooooo weeeee! ‘Pologies for the wait on these longer posts. I’ve been hit with a one two punch of house emergencies and sudden costly ass repairs, so my creative juices have been rightly squashed as of late.

Plus side I got my drawing tablet and drafting table back so I can neaten up my blog lay out now (yay!) 

Anyway this one was a challenge in the best possible ways. I really like Diavolo because of how little we know about him so it gave me some wiggle room. Or at least what I know of him- im only on like chapter 23 of the stories. Idk if I did him justice as this is angsty af but I sure had a blast writing it!

Hope ya like! Next up: Beelzebub 

Trigger warning: Mention of blood, and swearing. 

Diavolo-

He'll never show you, so don't ask. His true form is god-like in its own right and such knowledge, such truly raw demonic power in its natural form is not for your mortal eyes.

No matter what your lineage, it would break you. And despite his roles and being the literal devil, he doesn’t want you suffering.

Sometimes when he thinks you wouldn't notice he relaxes his hold on reality, just a fraction. He wants to relieve some of the tension that is always building just below the surface. Like closing your eyes when you have a tension headache. The mental energy he has to exert to keep face is enormous. Regular glamour doesn’t work nearly as well as his own, or Barbato’s magic.

But you see hints during your downtime spent in his company. A ripple in his reflection on the window pane. Unexplainable shadows dancing across his exposed skin. Too many teeth in his mouth when he laughs. Sometimes when you stare into his eyes you see something indescribable staring back behind them. His usually warm and inviting gaze darkening. A barest flicker, a hulking bestial thing kept locked behind in his golden gaze. It's enough to freeze the blood in your veins.

On certain nights when you can slip away from the brothers you stay in his room. Lying  awake, you watch his magic wane and shift as he slumbers. Sometimes you see runes, or at times letters. You are tempted to write them down and ask Solomon. But something stops you each time.

The worst images are the faces. Unknown souls trapped beneath his flesh clawing to be freed. Silent screams fading back into his body as he dreams. Your fragile fingers trace the patterns they leave as you wait for the next day wrapped in his embrace.

Only once have you seen more of his form then he would ever wish. The depths of his strength and mental fortitude were unknown to you so the slip up took you both by surprise. He masks the error well, but the sudden shift in energy in the room couldn’t be suppressed .

You are suddenly so aware of the oppressive weight of gravity on your frame. Your bones grinding together under the force of his aura. You panic, desperate by the need to breathe, but are unable to draw even the smallest bit of oxygen as it is robbed from the room. Time and reality wrapped too, distorting in ways only you thought only Barbatos could do. You knew in that moment the sudden dread of death, how mortally was but a rusty shackle tethering you down.

He collects himself, dispelling the energy and locking his glamour down tight to protect you. But that split second of fury felt like an eternity to you as you sink to the floor. You hiccup a shaky sob and shiver. Your fragile human mind bowing under the strain of what it cannot comprehend. Scolding hot tears fall from your cheeks, before splashing crimson the stone below you.

You didn't approach him again for over a month. No matter how strong you are, some things were better off unseen.

Mini Fic

He didn’t know. For once in his ancient pitiful existence, he had been unaware of his surroundings. It had been for just a moment, one tiny crack in his veneer. The foolishness of Mammon and Belphegor’s actions finally poked the right nerve. He wouldn’t hurt them, for Lucifer’s sake. That prideful demon would never forgive him if he did. But he could scare them. A quick look at his true self; a flash of the deepest bowels of hell. Enough to give them a reminder of their positions and standing in his court. He had expected their whimpers of fear, could taste the acidic tinge of it exuding from their pores. What he didn’t expect though was your blood curdling screams alongside.

Ironically, he would have to thank the second eldest later. His fast thinking is the only thing that saved you from complete damnation. His body shielded yours, taking the brunt of the stronger daemons hellish might for you. What little magic Mammon still had left used to protect you. Though, while your vision was blocked, you could still feel his oppressive presence. It racked your mortal flesh. Diavolo knew what affects his power had on humans. He spent years breaking and consuming damned souls with zeal after all.

The brothers had run from him after that, screaming for Simone. Barbatos following close behind, a look of consternation on his usually impassive face. You had been so limp in Mammon's arms. Diavolo could do nothing, shocked by his own weak will and realization that he might have ruined everything. You had been whisked away so quickly by his faithful servant and the brothers that he hadn’t had a chance to look you over himself. But the brief moment he saw will haunt him for years to come. Your eyes red from the sudden haemolacria, the blood staining your clothes and face. Your fingers digging away at your soft skin, black and purple blotches staining what he could see. Mouth opened wide on a silent scream. He knew what you must have seen. The souls of the damned trapped under his glamour breaking free to latch on to your unmarred soul trying to drag you back with them.

Against his butler's advice he stands at your door now days later trying to see you. He couldn’t sit around and just hear updates second hand. The brothers had been keeping guard most days in a valiant attempt to keep him away. But he could only be waylaid for so long before he used his rank against them.

He had arranged a full council meeting. Every one of the brothers knowing full well it was to get them out of his way. Yet, the order was absolute. This time none of the brothers could reject it. Barbatos would keep them in that room for eternity if he so wished for it. He hated using his age and power against them, but he saw no other way to get to you.

It was foolish now, standing as he was in front of your door. A part of him hoping you would turn the knob and let him in. Let him comfort you for once, instead of the asinine distractions the brothers offered. He could help too. Hells, he wanted to. He wanted to be closer to you. Power discrepancy be damned. The other part of him knowing it was for the best that you didn’t. Your guardian and tormentor all in one. He listens to your muffled sobs for a moment fighting with his feet to stay cemented to the floor instead of heading back in defeat.  

"When my father was still around he took me down to the deepest depths of the kingdom. Where the worst of the traitors and sinners are imprisoned." His deep baritone rumbles through your door during a break in your crying. "It’s a place few seldom go; even now I have yet to return. Back then he told me ‘there will never be a human soul that is undeserving of punishment. Even the ones destined for the celestial realm are tethered to sin.’ At that time I believed him. The things I saw in your realm... " The prince chuckles wearily.

He remembers the ever present scowl on the old King's face. His dark eyes looking out at the sea of damned souls he controlled. Even as a young daemon, fresh into his wings and still sharpening his horns to impress others he could tell how much his father detested his position. How it had warped him, turning him bitter and cold, even to his mate and only child.

Diavolo never wanted to be like that. Not to the ones he supposedly cared for at the very least. "I think that is why he hated the other realms so much.” He continued. “Humans, for their ability to choose which realm they would eventually end up in after they pass. That even the worst sinners could find redemption enough at the last moment to get to the pearly gates. While daemons, no matter how well they served, or the duties they did for the good of their own would never be seen as equals to our celestial counterparts or yours. That this existence is all we'll ever be destined to have. Nightmares and monsters, stories to tell little human children to keep them in line.” He pauses, collecting himself. “I believed wholeheartedly that every human deserved the punishments only my kind could dowel out. But, in this past year I have spent with you, I find myself changing. You are so undeserving of such torment. Somehow you are understanding and forgiving beyond measure to us. You handle our ill tempers with such grace. For daemons such as us, it is staggering, and humbling. I regret that I have hurt you so deeply and have broken your trust. I swear it as the head of this realm I would never intentionally do so." He looks at the door handle willing it to open. " I am so sorry."

Your crying picks up again. Huge heaving sobs that rattle your chest. Great Father, he just keeps making it worse. Clearing his head Diavolo turns.

Rejection of this nature was new to him. No one had ever dared to ignore him, especially such as this. The royal in him- his father's blood- seethed that he would even stoop so low as to grovel to a short lived thing like yourself. Even deeper yet, it demanded another taste of your essences. You little soul kept safe behind your rib cage. He wanted it added to his collection, kept tucked away deep within his maws.

It was sick; it was wrong. He chokes on the idea. The intrusive thought burrowing deep. How deplorable was he? Perhaps the angels were right to keep him out of heaven.

You didn't show to class the following day, or the days after. Unsurprising to him and the seven of the inner council. He figured the other day wouldn’t change anything. But it was utter agony to him. These days trapped in his office only getting short and curt updates on your health from Lucifer. It had been a special kind of torment.

Today he sat once again at his desk staring at some godforsaken bitching of a royal cousin. He knew this whelp. Some backwater thrice removed eons ago. Yet he was demanding an audience? The gall. The ink of their eligible handwriting makes him cross eyed. Would this day ever cease? He looks to his hourglass, the sands within seemingly frozen in time.

"My Lord, perhaps you should take a moment to stretch your legs?" Barbatos moved from his corner. Gloved hand coming to rest on top of the same three lines he had been reading for the past two hours. "This work could wait another evening I’m certain ."

"Did I do the right thing my friend?" Diavolo doesn't even bother answering the question his servant posed. They both knew he wouldn't. "This program. Our human exchange students. Solomon is one thing, but-"

"Your will and path is absolute." Barbatos states. "There are no mistakes within you, merely stumblings onto different paths."

With a gentle push Barbatos moves the hulking demon out of his way to collect and organize the scrolls and letters scattered about the large desk. "You made the right choice bringing them here. Look at what they have done. They are entertainment to you are they not?"

The prince rose knocking his desk aside and descended on his butler. His true form out in all its unholy glory now. His highly condensed magic distorting the study as if he was a black hole. The axis of the room shifts. His priceless collection of books and toys disintegrating from the cold radiation he emits.

It was all for show really. There was nothing he could do to an ancient being such as Barbatos. So he lashed out, throwing a tantrum in the security of his office. The hopeless agitation he felt fueling the flames of his rage. His butler had only added holy water to his already festering wounds.

Barbatos had been by his side for time in memoriam. The crafty bastard had helped raise him. Had shaped him into the ruler he was today. If anyone could break and remold him it would be his oldest companion.

The dark haired daemon waited for the waves of agitation to dry up. Moving only when the prince was in his more presentable demonic form. Large barrel chest heaving as he reined himself in. “Are you back to your senses?” He asks coolly, already categorizing the items to replace and furniture to be mended.

"I had not meant for it to go like this."  Diavolo croaks into his hands collapsing back on what remained of his desk. Building a bridge between realms, yes. That noble idea was the greater purpose of this program, but the rest of it. The classes, and dances. The parties where he threw his newest toys about to see how they would react to things other mortals worshiped? That had been for his own curiosity and amusement. Lesser beings navigating a foreign world blind to the dangers that were right under their very nose. Bring a mortal with no magic into his realm? Deep down he knew this was an inevitability. Especially with the freedoms he granted them. He just didn’t think he would get so attached.

“No one believes that you would hurt them on purpose.” His butler cuts off his downward spiral. “It would ruin the program. That is what you are so stressed about, right?” Barbatos eyes him skeptically. Diavolo, himself, and Lucifer had spent many sleepless weeks constructing and negotiating this program. If the Arch Angels heard a mortal was hurt down here it could very well end this little escapade. But the look in the prince’s eyes told a different story.

A warm glow emanated from his cheeks and he was unable to meet the old daemon’s gaze. Ah. "Or perhaps things have changed?" Barbatos smiles coyly up from beneath his bangs. "You are your mother's son after all. Neither of you were ever able to stem your bleeding hearts for long." Diavolo squawked indignantly but didn’t argue. Instead he merely turns a darker shade of red and curses under his breath.

He skipped out on court that evening. Not that he cared much. The other nobles would no doubt use the time to gossip about his whereabouts and uncouth behavior of late. Truth be told, he was avoiding the brothers more than anything else. They had made it expressly clear (some more then others) how they felt about him currently. He wouldn't doubt that Belphegor had a few more brothers on his side now.

Instead he stood at your door once more with a tea tray in hand. He had bumped into Simone on the way. The angel had come to bring you dinner and to check up on the last of your wounds. Celestial magic worked miracles on those who have been touched by the darker arts. Diavolo was grateful for his talents. And, by some miracle, Simone had made it abundantly clear he was not going to bring this to the higher ups on his end either.

Upon seeing the prince slinking up the house's stairwell the other man had simply smiled and offered him the tray. “I suddenly got a message from Luke. Could you perhaps drop this by our friend’s door?” Diavolo had accepted without preamble, large hands dwarfing the platter of little tea cakes and sandwiches. The young cherubs work no doubt. His cooking was a fine treat, and a great incentive to at least open the door.

“Hello again.” He knocks twice. “I just wanted to check in on you. I know I am the last person you wish to see but I was hoping to talk?” Silence greets him. Were you awake? He breathes deeply and focuses on picking up your vitals. You were up, your heart thumping steady somewhere in the room. That was good. “I also have dinner for you. Simone had an urgent matter to attend to so he- for better or worse- entrusted this to me.”

Diavolo searches hopelessly for something else to say. He couldn’t just leave the food and go. He needed to see you. “I don’t plan on staying long today. I understand when I am not wanted, but I cannot help myself but be worried for you. Perhaps this is just me contritioning, because I know I caused this. The amount of times I have been called a ‘ass’ by Solomon over this have been staggering.” He rambles. After another bout of silence from your end he coincides. “I see- I will leave the food by the door and let you rest.” Defeated he puts the food down and turns to leave.

The door clicks open slowly. One bloodshot eye peeking through the crack. “Oh mio piccolo mortale.” He loses his grip on your shared tongue at a loss. You looked- you must have been in the hall longer then he or the brothers had known. Such damage couldn’t be done in a few moments. Your skin was healing as nicely as Lucifer had said, but the deep purple scarring still remained on the surface. The burn pattern of it all was random. Twisting wounds that reflected an oily sheen from the light of the hallway. “I-.”

“I know-” You cut him off with a raised hand. “and I feel as though I owe you an apology too.” Your voice was so weak and shaky. A mockery of your normally strong and jovial tone. Hearing you laugh at school had brightened the dreary halls. He hadn’t realized it until you weren't there.

“You owe me nothing.” Diavolo says in earnest. He watches you contemplate your next words before throwing whatever you were going to say away.

“Would you like to come in?” Your eyes drop to the tray. “Luke always makes more than I can eat.”

“I don’t think that would be wise.” He backs out. All his plans crashing and burning around his feet. His actions had been irreparable.

“Perhaps not,” You open the door wider taking the tray and heading to your side table, leaving him no room to argue. “But then again, being a lamb among such wolves as yourself and the brothers isn’t smart either.” You meant it as a joke but he couldn’t even muster a chuckle. It was true. Gods. “Dia-” You approach him again but falter at the last second.

As much as you wanted to be close to him again the memories were still so fresh in your mind. The cold hell fire of his magic ensnaring you, searing your skin. The whispered words of sinners long since past still echoing in your head, all in languages you’ve never heard before. The worst though had to be the screaming. Lost souls begging for help. Some sounded so familiar…You shutter involuntarily.

You wanted to hate him for this. Curse him for putting you through this pain. But how much could you blame him? Or any of them? They were daemons. Whether he meant to hurt you or not, it truly had only been a matter of time before it happened. It would be hypocritical of you to fear or hate him forever over this. Six of the seven brothers have threatened your life before, and you have forgiven them. Hell, one of them actually killed you. What’s more was that Diavolo’s wrath hadn’t even been directed at you.

Wrong place at the right time; seemed to be your forte. “Please, come in.” You repeat again firmer than before mustering up either courage or sheer human stupidity to order him in. You couldn’t tell the difference anymore. “We need to talk.”  

He enters, following at your heel like a lost puppy. All air of princedom gone as you clicked the door shut. Diavolo fiddles with his hands, old habits from childhood coming with his nerves. He didn’t know what to expect anymore. Yelling? Some kind of beratement? A plea to go home and never look back?  He would let you.

You pass by him, giving him a large berth of space to get to your seat. “Tea?”  

Diavolo jerks his head to you. He had forgotten momentarily the plate of food he had used to get access to you. You smile sheepishly pushing it and a plate of sweets towards him with your unbandaged knuckles. He doesn’t move till your hand retracts back to your lap. You jerk your head to the open seat waiting for him. You weren’t going to take no for an answer.

“I- thank you.” The daemon sits making himself as small as possible in the straight back chair. He takes the porcelain and drinks mindlessly. The scalding hot tea doing little to help the tightness of his throat, but it did thaw some of the ice in his mind.

“Are-how…” He fumbles so unsure of what to do next. “I see you’ve been keeping up with your school work.” Diavolo closes his eyes, wincing internally at his words. That’s what he comes up with? Idiotic.

You smile anyway, eyeing the massive pile of books and paperwork spewn about your bed. “Yeah. I’ve taken to doing my school work with Levi in his room. Mammon and Beel are nice enough to drop it off to the teachers when they are due.” He nods. He knew this of course. But it was nice to hear it from you. But yet, you don’t meet his eyes. Far too afraid to see what hid behind them.

The thought of being dragged back into those dark depths again makes your pulse quicken. You instead stare at your nail beds, finding them more interesting. They were purple now. The nails stained black by the contact with his magic. “Will- will that go away?” He asks. Demonic curses or taints were nigh impossible to remove fully. Disgustingly, he hoped they didn’t. Then your nails would match his. The darker depths of his soul coo at the idea, happy that in a small way every daemon would know your his. Not as good as a pact, but as close as he could get to being a part of your little mortal life.

“I’m not sure.” You reply honestly bringing your hands up to place them on the table. “Simone and Solomon have done what they could. But, it is as good as it’s going to get for now. They say it could fade with time.” You look up at him, eyes gazing to the left of his face. “Luke thinks I should see a stronger angel.” Diavolo winces, the thought stung, and terrified him. “I told him no.”

That surprised him. This was your chance. The celestial realm had been skeptical from the beginning. If they knew, it would be a perfect caveat for them to step in. “Why?” Finally you look at him. The fear was still there. Hesitation evident in your eyes. Yet you forced yourself to look at him, fighting through your trepidation.

“Did you mean what you said earlier? About your father and what you think of me?”

“Of course.” He replies without hesitation reaching for your cold hands. You flinch but don’t move away. It felt-nice. His warmth chasing away the perpetual chill that covered your fingertips. Idly you stroke his strong hands with your thumbs.

“Then, I think we can work on this privately.” Slowly but surely you felt like you could fix this. Not for the program, but for yourself.  

#obey me #obey me diavolo #obey me headcanons #gods have mercy I wanna smooch him so bad

[worldwidebt7]

Hell[L]ing || 05

§ — Pairing: Chimera!Taehyung x Empath!Reader (with mentions of Reader x Other Members)

§ — Genre: SciFi AU, fluff, angst, smut, horror

§ — Wordcount: 2,974

§ — Rating: M § — Warnings: None. Just an awkward AF encounter.

§ — A/N: Gone for so long, but not forgotten! I love this story, and I don't plan on letting it die any time soon~ I need a manager-- I've got way too many projects! Anyone want the job? LOL

Summary: You moved out into the wilderness to live a calm, peaceful life. Your abilities made it impossible to live in crowded places, so even if you wanted to you couldn’t return. But when something happens outside the realm of even your normalcy, you start to think that maybe having everyone else’s emotions bearing down on you isn’t such a bad alternative to being trapped with your own.

You were definitely beginning to question your decision-making skills, or lack thereof. Any sane person would never let a man they met once into their isolated house on a rainy day— it was an exact recipe that stereotypical horror films follow. And you were to be the soon-hunted lead female. Whether or not you get killed milliseconds before the credits started rolling depended on how you treated the situation henceforth.

Standing in your bathroom, you contemplated your options as your fingers ran over the plush fabric of the grey towel you intended to hand to the soaking wet gentleman currently standing in your kitchen. First, you could continue on the path you were currently set on: heading back down the stairs to help the supposedly sick boy dry off and offer him a warm drink. This would most certainly end poorly if your expertise of the genre was anything to go by. Assist the helpless stranger, let his quirky personality charm you, then die. Not preferable.

You could, adversely, call the police or one of your friends to come save you and distract your company until they arrived. This would be the smarter move, though you have your doubts that the situation warrants such a reaction. Besides what your extrasensory abilities allowed you to perceive, your neighbor has done nothing to make you think he holds any ill-will against you. Having him forcibly removed from your home would only certainly sour his opinion of you.

Your last option, from what you could organize from your frayed thoughts, was to expedite option one, in which you dried him off, warmed him up, and sent him on his way before any amount of intimate time passed. You figured that this was the best option, even if it weren’t particularly the safest. You had no reason to suspect the boy of any violence or threat, but he made you inherently uncomfortable either way.

His emotions began to blip at a faster pace— nervousness, worry— were the rate of his emotional markers linked to his heart beat? That was something new. Well, everything dealing with this boy’s emotions was new to you. Taking a deep breath, you turn and leave the bathroom. You suppose your prolonged absence has made your guest begin to panic, and you really didn’t want to have his sporadic emotions to get more intense; you were already feeling the beginnings of a headache.

Scurrying down your wooden stairs, you felt his interest perk at the sound of your footsteps. Anticipation— but gentle anticipation. Warm, welcoming; you almost wanted to hurry to put yourself back in his line of vision, and as you stepped back into the kitchen, you felt the wave of relief that washed over him. His accelerated heartbeat kept the bursts of emotions abrupt, but they were soothed, a welcomed change from the abrasive concern.

His eyes were locked onto your form, taking in every miniscule movement you made. You made sure to avoid his gaze and cleared your throat as you stepped in front of him.

“Here,” You held out the towel for him to take. “You should probably dry yourself off…” He eyed the soft fabric for a moment, a shy gratefulness melding with slight apprehension. You sent him a warm smile when a few moments had passed and nudged the towel towards him a bit. With that, he tentatively reached forward and gently took the cloth from you. You retreated your hand swiftly and as he brought the towel to his chest you sidestepped towards the counter. “I’ll make something warm for you to drink, yeah?”

As you busied yourself, you didn’t see him lift the towel and softly burry his face in it, drying himself. You did, however feel the warm glow of comfort sprout in the air like quickly blooming flowers. With your back turned to him, you didn’t bother hiding the pleased look on your face. Finally— you thought— an emotion from him that didn’t barrage your senses.

With water heating up in your kettle and the packet of cocoa already retrieved from the pantry, you no longer had anything to distract yourself with. In an attempt to make this spontaneous visit less awkward and less unnerving, you turned to make light conversation. To begin, what on earth the sickly boy was doing wandering about in the rain.

“So…” you started, catching his attention immediately, his nerves returning. “Your name is Taehyung, right?” you received a delayed nod. “I’m Y/N. Ah, though you already knew that, right? From last time?” Another nod. Talkative, this one. You supposed you should get straight to your most burning question at the moment. “I gotta ask… I did extend the invitation, but… is there something I can do for you?” He visibly stiffened and the blips of his anxiety sped up with what, you were sure of now, was his increased heart rate. Oh, the headache. Perhaps you should rephrase. “W-what I mean is, since your health is poor, why’d you come over when it was raining of all days?” This seemed to calm him, as the frequency of his beats trickled off.

He didn’t answer you for a long while, opting to look down at the floor in contemplation. You did your best not to stare— you didn’t want to spike his unease once more— but you were finding it difficult to do so, seeing as the wet boy in your kitchen, now that he was up close and personal, was too beautiful to bear. Your previous appraisal of his other-worldly appearance was far too lenient; how could anyone like him possibly exist at all? And his dark hair— curled more from its damp state and hanging further over his obsidian eyes— only seemed to add more depth to the perfection of the features it framed. How utterly unfair it was for someone to be so beautiful.

“I—” you just about jumped at his voice, breaking the silence, but not cutting through it. The melodic depth of it filled the room. “…bad day…” he was pensive with his words— giving you all you needed to know and no more. There was no deception to him, but he was clearly safeguarding information, keeping it locked away.

You gave a thoughtful hum, but you couldn’t hide the shock and confusion you felt. He came to you because he was having a bad day? Someone he didn’t know and only met once before? You couldn’t help but feel this was… odd, for lack of a better term. And he seemed to realize this as well, as his eyes never once met yours. His apprehension was understandable now, and his fear of being turned away— he really had no reason to be here.

Still, your heart warmed at the thought that he had come to you for comfort, as unexpected as it was. And, slowly, the majority of your concerns over the situation began to melt away. Yes, he was a strange boy, yes, there were things about him that were odd and seemed unnatural, but… there was nothing aggressive, or dangerous about his intentions. He seemed more like a child than anything else with how small his large frame looked; like he was trying to curl in on himself.

A sharp whistle pierced the gentle atmosphere and both you and Taehyung jumped nearly out of your skin. You recognized the sound as your kettle quickly after having your nerves fried, but your guest was immediately on the defensive, his fear refusing to subside as he took a pathetic few steps back from the offending object.

“Sorry!” you called out to him and you turned on your heel to remove the kettle from the stove. His confusion was evident, and mixed with the other strong emotions bombarding you, you were almost inclined to say that he’s never heard the shriek of a kettle. The noise subsided as you lifted the item off the heat, turning the burner off in the process. “Phew— that scared me!” At your laughter, his confusion turned into curiosity, and his fear ebbed away.

You emptied the chocolate powder into one of your mugs and promptly drowned it in the hot water from your kettle, the smell of hot chocolate immediately permeating through the air. You se the kettle back down on the stove before stirring the drink, your neighbor’s curiosity only heightening. You turned back to him and beckoned him forward, placing the mug of hot chocolate on the island in front of him in hopes he would sit. When he did nothing, a breathy chuckle escaped you.

“You can sit down if you’d like,” you offered, hoping he would oblige. You realize that this directly opposes your original plan to make this visit as quick as possible, but his uncertainty had found it’s way into your heart. You weren’t sure if it was because he was often ill, but he seemed so unsure of how to interact with other people, like he hasn’t had much social interaction before. It was endearing in a way, and even though there were still some things that concerned you about the readings you got from him, you felt inclined to spend time trying to unravel him.

Or you could simply be suffering from your own solitude.

Either way, you smiled when he slowly made his way over to the counter and seated himself on the stool that the mug sat directly in front of. He still had the towel you had offered him clutched to his chest and seemingly hadn’t dried much more than his face with it. Cautiously, he eyed the mug of steaming liquid.

“Do you not like hot chocolate?” you asked, suddenly aware that it’s possible for people to have different tastes. Or worse, because of his illness he couldn’t drink it at all? “Oh, I’m sorry! Can you even drink hot chocolate? I should have asked before. If there’s something else—”

“No! I—” you blinked, surprised. It was the first time he had spoken so suddenly or with so much conviction. He seemed shocked by his own voice, and immediately receded into himself, almost as if berating himself for his outburst. He chewed on his lower lip, “…I’ve never had it… hot chocolate…” you blinked again.

“Really?” He nodded, and his hand slid forward, reaching for the mug. When you saw his fingers wrap around it, you realized how large his hands were— yet another ridiculously beautiful feature as you couldn’t help but think about how elegant the lines of hands were curved around the dwarfed mug. If he noticed you staring, nothing in his demeanor showed any discomfort at the attention, but you were quick to correct yourself when you became aware of it yourself. “Are you sure you can have it…?” you didn’t want to accidentally poison your neighbor if he was allergic to chocolate. A shake of his head did little to reassure you.

“I’ll drink it,” he said with confidence. He raised the mug, his other hand joining the action as the ceramic was completely eclipsed. It took you a moment to realize that he may not be are of the heat.

“Oh, wait, that’s hot—!” you were too late, and you watched him take a rather large sip from the cup. You blanched, expecting him to burn himself, but he only lowered the mug back to the counter, both hands still firmly encasing it, seemingly unaffected. Huh. Well then, wasn’t that odd?

After a moment of deliberation, excitement burst through the air and Taehyung’s eyes lit up. He quickly took another sip of the drink and from the rush of emotions you knew he was absolutely thrilledby the taste of hot chocolate. You stifled a good-natured laugh, not wanting him to think you were making fun of him, and settled for an endeared smile as you leaned forward to rest against the island counter. Why were you so scared of this boy again?

“I’m going to guess that you like it?” you couldn’t help but tease him a little, and, thankfully, he didn’t seem to take offense; he was far too enraptured by the sweet beverage before him. He nodded happily.

“Thank you,” he said, cheer popping in the air around him, making you want to squeal at his child-like wonder at something so simple. Still, you had to wonder— how is it that he never had hot chocolate before? And if he hadn’t had something so elementary, what else had he not been privy to and why? You suppose you could chalk it up to him being ill often, and if such is the case, he must have been sick for much of his life. You wondered who had been in charge of his health all these years and why they refused him such small pleasures such as hot chocolate, making you again second-guess giving him the cocoa treat. But the pure bliss he exhibited bade you believe that just one cup wouldn’t hurt and that it was surly worth it.

He had been so wrought with nerved when he appeared at your back door that any positive change in his emotions was a welcome one. Perhaps he would leave having a better day than when he came. You could only hope.

“I’m glad you like it,” you said simply before moving on, trying to keep whatever stilted conversation you had going. “I’m surprised you came here if you were having a bad day… did you and Seokjin fight?”

At the mention of his roommate’s name, he stiffened, some of his anxiety returning. You must have hit the nail on the head, because as his fingers fidgeted around the mug he looked off to the side towards the floor. You felt bad immediately, not wanting to sour his mood again.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t pry,” you straightened a bit at your mistake, readying to correct yourself if given the opportunity. “If you want to talk about it, um…” What could you offer him, honestly? Why would he divulge the details of his roommate quarrel with you? He barely knew you. Still, he did come to you— as a source of comfort, as a distraction, or as escape, you’ll never know. You did know that you may be his only choice out here in the remote wilderness and so, to an extent, you felt a certain obligation to offer him support. After all, should something happen to you, he and Seokjin were the only ones in miles that could aid you, and you could only hope that they would do so without hesitation.

However, he shook his head, signaling that he didn’t wish to divulge the issue. More mystery then, it seems. You nodded and gave no further attempts to interrogate despite the burning questions that nagged at you, knowing full well about the need to keeps certain things to yourself.

“I…” he began, suddenly standing. Startled, you too took a step back from the counter as well. “I should go…” he placed your towel on the island next to the half-empty mug after a long moment, seemingly disappointed to part with it. Taehyung hesitated, but eventually took a large step away from where he had been seated and began to make his way to the back door.

His sudden, hurried departure had you reeling. You had wanted a brief, eventless encounter, so letting him leave now would probably be for the best. Yet, despite all your concerns, you were still opening your mouth.

“W-wait!” you called after him, stepping out from behind your countertop. He immediately halted in his tracks, shifting slightly so he could see you out of his peripherals. His uncertainty thrummed in the air like drums, making your otherwise silent home ridiculously loud. “The… the rain…” For the first time in the last ten minutes, you peered outside your window, expecting to see the previous torrential downpour. However, to your surprise, it had calmed to a drizzle at some point during your neighbor’s momentary visit. When had that happened?

Sensing that you didn’t have anything else to say to him, Taehyung continued his journey to your glass doors slowly. You watched him with a rock settling into your stomach— this didn’t feel right to you, and as he opened the door, you called out to him again.

“Taehyung,” this time, at the sound of his name leaving your mouth, his head spun around completely, eyes wide and panic vibrating from him. No, not panic; something akin to panic, but not quite so negative. Something warmer… ugh, trying to decipher his emotions was like learning a new language. So, instead of feeding into your present headache, you continued, immediately embarrassed by what you say. “Come back again sometime… we can have lunch.” You felt the heat in your face from your blush and then, unexpectedly, it was as if the very space around you was placed under a heat lamp and Taehyung’s not-panic set your nerves on fire. What the hell was going on?

You didn’t have time to dwell, because as soon as the shocked, anxious boy recovered, he nodded quickly and slipped out the door, taking his blips of emotions and quickly disappearing into the tree line separating your properties.

With his departure, you could finally breathe, and you found that a tightness that you hadn’t been aware of begun to unravel in your chest. Your migraine, which you were hoping would leave with your neighbor, proceeded to hammer away in your skull. As much as you wanted to dissect your more than odd exchange with the onyx-eyed boy, you couldn’t imagine thinking about much of anything in your present condition.

“Bath…” you groaned, massaging your temples and groggily treaded your way upstairs to soak away the pain in scalding, fragrant water.

Tags:

@sana-b​ @beach-bitch-bitch-beach​ @babbitybabo​ @softmxchi​ @halijahfan @chimchimsauce​ @coolavidreader​ @beesthoughtsblog​ @breadcaaat​ @lucian-kinnder​ @wolfgirl-m​  @sogrossstuff  @kpop-nolife​ @unoriginal-username15432​ @cvbachacbitch​ @rhayad​ @lladyow​ @jiminot7​ @parkminhee​ @ditttiii​ @sathom013​ @megazdl​ @sugabased

#kth hell[L]ing #hell[L]ing #hell[L]ing fanfic #bts hell[L]ing fanfic #kim taehyung #taehyung #bts taehyung #bts v #v #taehyung fanfic #v fanfic #taehyung x reader #bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts fluff #bts angst #bts horror au #bts au #bts scifi #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan boys

[cheeriecherry]

Reactions to our boi finding out that not only were you a fan before meeting but you were fan who wrote smut about them? A secret you've kept hidden but now... Aizawa, Mic, Nighteye

I’m still sick but i need to do something before i go nuts lol, but I’m sorry if it’s a little questionable, I’m like, half awake oof

Warnings: some mentions of smut but nothing super explicit

AIZAWA SHOUTA

-So he’s not necessarily a well known hero, or at least he isn’t usually in the running with the media. So he probably doesn’t have that much merch, or it’s really hard to find.

-So he notices the first time you let him into your room that you have an adorable tsumtsum of him. He doesn’t say anything, doesn’t even let on that he saw it, but he knows that it was probably hard for you to get. He figures out right then that you’re some kind of fan.

-But he thinks it’s pretty casual, and he’s actually (secretly) a little bit pleased that you admire him so much, especially if you don’t have any other hero merch.

-He doesn’t catch on until much later that you write smut about him.

-Like, he knows that such things exist. It’s just how people are, we all love our fanfic. 

-He doesn’t think much of your writing habits at first, always assumes you’re working on papers or other things for your job. He only starts to get suspicious when he walks in on you one night and you get flustered and slap your laptop closed.

-He’s not gonna pry into your business, but he’s definitely curious. 

-After that incident, you start writing less around him, and he starts to to worry. Like, all he did was walk into the room, but he didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. He’s also a little perturbed that you feel like you have to hide things from him.

-He’ll probably ask you about it within a couple weeks, or rather he’ll tell you that you don’t have to be ashamed of the things you’re working on, no matter what it is.

-And you appreciate the sentiment, but you seriously don’t know what you’d do if your boyfriend realized you write porn about him. Most of it’s fantasies you’ve had about him, but written to cater to all his fans.

-You’re not super possessive of him, so like, you don’t mind that people thirst over him. You know that at the end of the day, you’re the only one who’s got his attention.

-But then you fall asleep on the couch one night. You had intended to just shut your eyes for a moment to give them a break, so you’d left your laptop open and leaned back on the sofa. Shouta wasn’t supposed to be home for another couple hours, so you figured you’d be safe.

-But you end up falling asleep, and he ends up coming home early.

-He thinks you’re cute when he sees you cozied up on the cushions, but he sees that your laptop is about to die. He has no idea where you usually keep the cord, so he...well, his intention is to save whatever documents you were so hard on, so you didn’t lose your progress. But his eyes scan a few lines without thinking, and before long he’s reading through the whole thing.

-Ngl he’s flustered as hell. He’ll never admit it, but the things you’ve written are absolutely filthy. It’s nothing like anything you’ve ever done in the bedroom, which he’s actually grateful for (he doesn’t want his sex life being broadcasted on the internet, even if you do work under an alias), but reading your work is giving him ideas.

-Do you actually want to do things like this with him? Or is it really just a fantasy, a story written to appease other people.

-Of course, he’s also a teacher so he finds himself critiquing your writing style and use of language. It’s actually pretty good writing, however sinful the subject matter.

-He quickly goes to save the document, but right as he does, you stir awake.

-He looks at you, you look at him. You’re sleepy as hell, and he’s pink in the cheeks, and you just know right off the bat that he’s figured you out.

-You immediately hide your face in your hands and mumble out an ‘oh god im sorry you were never supposed to find out’ and he’s like ‘how the hell do i approach this’ because it’s such an embarrassing situation when it’s happening.

-He tells you that it’s okay, he really doesn’t mind that you write stuff like that. And truthfully he doesn’t. Lots of people write works directed at adults, and there’s nothing wrong with it. He’s just....it’s the fact that you’re writing about him. Of all the heroes you could have chosen from, you chose him. To write about, to appreciate, to pursue romantically.

-It’s turns into a mushy moment, because of course you chose him?? He’s kind and smart and loving and he cares a lot about you and other people. Plus he’s handsome as heck.

-You’re both still a little shy about it when you head to bed a few minutes later, but you still cuddle up to him in the dark and rest your head on his chest.

-But right when you think all is said and done, he asks ‘Is any of that stuff something you’d ever want to try?’ and a whole new wave of embarrassment washes over you. Like jesus christ have some tact Shouta.

-Whether or not you guys end up experimenting a little more is up to you, but it definitely feels nice to not have to hide it so much. You’re still a little iffy about actually showing him what you write, but that’s mostly because you’re worried your skills won’t be up to his standards.

YAMADA HIZASHI

-Definitely didn’t know you were a fan of his the first few times you met. You acted so normal around him, like he was just another guy, so he figured he wasn’t on your radar. Which is fine by him, he tries not to pursue fans simply because that attraction might not be genuine, y’know?

-Like, ‘is this person with me because they like the idea of me, or because they actually like me’ sort of thing.

-And you’re not an overzealous fan by any means, but the first time he visits your house he realizes he was mistaken. You have a couple of his collectibles; the nice ones that are tasteful, not the corny ones that are a quick cash grab for companies.

-He’s like ??? you didn’t tell me???

-And you’re like ???no???

-Honest to god you didn’t recognize him at first. You’d been in a dimly lit, high-end club, he’d had his hair down, you’d both had a couple of drinks. He just happened to be a guy that you had some things in common with, who was nice to talk to and who made you laugh.

-It relaxes him a little, knowing that you would have been into him even if he wasn’t a hero and a super popular DJ with a radio show. And by the time he’s coming over to your house, you guys probably know each other pretty well anyways. He’s let you into his life, but you’ve also let him into yours.

-He teasingly asks you if you’ve got any more little secrets (even though this was hardly a secret), and he doesn’t expect when you get flustered af and squeak out a ‘nope, not a single one, no secrets’. But he doesn’t think more of it until much later.

-Like, several months later. After you guys move in together.

-He knows that smut about heroes exists, he knows that there is smut about him, and if I’m being honest he probably reads it for shits and giggles. Never to make fun of anyone, but he’s honestly just curious about what people are writing.

-He notices that you write a lot, too. You never show him anything, and whenever he asks about it you tell him it’s ‘just work’. He wonders what kinds of projects you’re taking on that involve so much typing and concentration, and ngl he’s a little sad that you don’t tell him about it.

-Like, sure maybe it’s just work and you’re not particularly invested in it, but he always talks about his students, and his shows, and the ongoings at his job, he just wants to know more about what you do.

-He is a smart man, but sometimes he has stupid ideas.

-He concocts the wise plan to sneak onto your laptop while you’re in the shower and read your most recent document. Not being wholly nosey, just enough so he can do a little research on the subject and learn more about it. He just wants to know.

-Throws him for one bigass loop when he sees what you are actually working on. He’s no stranger to kinky shit, but his entire face goes beet red, redder than any fanfiction has ever made him.

-Something about that fact that it’s you who wrote this, and you who’re thinking those things about him, entertaining ideas like that. Like yeah, y’all have slept together but he had absolutely no clue you’d even be into stuff like that.

-And sure, you could just be writing things for your fans, but you also seem pretty knowledgeable on the subject so like. You had to have some interest in it, right?

-And now he’s thinking about trying those things out with you, and his pants are just a tad bit tighter than could be considered comfortable.

-He’s so distracted he doesn’t notice the shower turn off, nor does he hear you walk into the room. He does, however, catch your hideously embarrassed squawk.

-Which then makes him flustered, because he got caught, and you’d better pat yourself on the back for that one because you’re one of the only people that can make him embarrassed like that.

-But then he’s trying to explain himself, and you’re trying to explain yourself, and it’s a whole mess of words and burning cheeks and somehow you end up both admitting that the things you write about would be real fun to try.

-Lol you guys probably just end up in bed together after that,

-But despite the initial awkwardness, he’s pretty cool with it. He likes your writing, and how involved you are with the community. It’s also handy for him because it lets him keep an ear to his fans without digging too deep, you always let him know what kind of stuff everyone is up to.

-best use it to your advantage, tell him all kinds of filthy things that you’ve come across, especially if it something you know he’ll like. It’s a sure way to get him in the mood >u>

SASAKI MIRAI|SIR NIGHTEYE

-He’s nonplussed about whether or not you’re a fan at first. He doesn’t pay you much mind until he scopes out your sense of humour, or until you say something offhandedly and it makes him laugh.

-Fan or not, if you’re funny and you vibe with each other, then he’ll show some kind of interest in you. It’ll take a little while to progress to something romantic, but in the meantime you’ve got a nice friend.

-He’s kinda busy, so you probably don’t invite him over to your place until a couple months in. Your schedules are conflicting, and you’ve both got important jobs to do, so it’s probably been pushed back a couple times. But he finally makes it over one evening for a night of relaxing socialization.

-You know him well enough to know that it wouldn’t bug him that you were a fan of him before you met him. He’s not the kind of person to make a big deal about it, not really. He sees a couple pieces of merch around your apartment, just small things -some of which he’s surprised to managed to get a hold of- and he’s like ‘okay’

-Like, he really doesn’t care. As long as you treat him like a person and you’re not using him for anything, then hes just.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-It’s only afteryou start dating and getting close that he teases you a little bit for it. Not in a rude way, just in an ‘aw you sleep with a plushie of me’ way. He does it so he can fluster you and ruffle your feathers in a loving manner.

-After you move in with him, he notes that you’re on your computer a lot. He figures it’s just an overbearing workload that requires a lot of time, so he reminds you whenever he can to take a break and stretch and give your eyes a rest.

-He’d leave it alone mostly, so in order for him to find out that you’re actually writing smut, he’d have to catch you in the act. He comes home early one evening to get a little extra time with you, and he follows the tapping of the keyboard into your office. You haven’t noticed that he’s even there, that’s how focused you are.

-So he sneaks up behind you with the intent to startle you and wrap you up in a hug, but looking over your shoulder he gets a good view of your screen...and the words on the screen...and his name on the screen...

-It takes you a couple seconds to figure out he’s there, which is dumb because he’s literally just frozen over your shoulder going over the sentences you’ve written as his face gets redder and redder.

-Anyways, he still manages to scare you, and you leap out of your seat and fall onto the floor, but instead of hugging you and saying hello like he originally intended, he’s just kind of frozen on the spot with the pinkest cheeks you’ve seen him have.

-He’s a pretty stoic guy most of the time, at least on the outside. It’s really hard to fluster him, because most of your attempts either make him laugh because you’re cute, or result in some really nice romantic time. He’s just. Not really shy about stuff?

-But this is a whole different thing.

-You’re on the floor dying of embarrassment and telling him not to read, but he is Looking and Not Listening. You just seem so innocent and chill about things, he never would have expect something like this from you. It’s not a bad thing, it’s just really surprising.

-Secretly he’s a little bit pleased that you’re writing this kind of stuff about him, and not some other heroes, but he probably won’t say it out loud. Not to mention your writing is actually really good? Like, it flows perfectly and the descriptions are easy to imagine but not super complicated or convoluted.

-He’s a smart guy, and he knows that fans of heroes are into all kind of things, fanfiction included. He’s not offended by it, by any means. He just never supposed that he’d be popular enough to warrant fanfic about him, let alone written by his own partner.

-He tries to be chill about it, asking you if you’re into that kind of stuff and if you should switch it up in the bedroom a bit. It’s pretty obvious he’s flustered tho. 

-It would probably lead to a good long talk about what sort of stuff you’re both into, after the initial embarrassment dies down. And honestly, he’s home early to spend time with you, so why not just try some stuff out right now?  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

-He would definitely read your fics if you want him to, hell, even if you don’t outright ask him he might seek them out out of curiosity. He’s usually busy in the day, but he’ll find time to read through things and give you honest feedback.

-Lol tho if you’re still shy about it, he might make an account with an alias just so he can give you nice comments. It doesn’t take very long for you to figure him out though. He’s got a very specific typing style and his personality shines through, but only people who know him would recognize it.

-I headcanon this guy as a kinky mf ngl, but also as someone who can go without hardcore stuff, y’know? So whether or not you actually want to try out some of your fantasies is up to you, but he’s 100% down for it.

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead x reader #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi x reader #sir nighteye x reader #sasaki mirai x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha headcanons #mha headcanons #deadlyelixir

[lochtayboatsong]

The Jesus Christ Superstar essay absolutely no one asked for.

Last weekend, I watched the pro-shot of the 2012 arena tour of Jesus Christ Superstar starring Ben Forster, Tim Minchin, and Melanie C, because it was Easter and it was up on YT for the weekend.  I never managed to do my annual listen-through of Leonard Bernstein’s Mass this year, as is my usual Easter tradition, so I figured “Why not watch/listen to this instead?”  It was my first time seeing and hearing JCS in full, and Y’ALL, it has been living rent-free in my brain ever since.  I have a mighty need to get my thoughts out, so here they are, in chronological order by song.  

1) Prologue: I love the way JCS 2012 makes use of the arena video screen.  The production design and concept clearly took a lot of inspiration from the “Occupy ______” movement, which makes it feel a bit dated now.  But every single production of JCS is a product of its time period, so this is a feature and not a bug.  

2) Heaven On Their Minds: This is a straight-up rock song.  It wouldn’t be out of place on any rock and roll album released between 1970 and 2021, and it boggles my mind that Webber and Rice were both in their early twenties when they wrote it.  Also, the lyric “You’ve begun to matter more than the things you say” hits hard no matter the year.

3) What’s the Buzz: A+ use of the arena screens again, this time bringing in social media to set the tone.  Also, this song establishes right from the outset that Jesus is burnt out and T I R E D by this point in the story.  Seriously, can we just let this man have a nap?

4) Strange Thing Mystifying: Judas publicly calls out Mary and Jesus claps back.  Folx, get you a partner who will defend your honor the way Jesus defends MM in this scene.  Also Jesus loses his shoes and is mostly barefoot for the remainder of the show.

5) Everything’s Alright: Okay, this is one of the songs I have A LOT to say about.  First, it’s important to know that I was a church musician throughout all of my adolescence and into my early adulthood.  The pianist at the services I usually played at was a top-notch jazz pianist, and also my piano teacher for about six years while I as in high school and undergrad.  (Incidentally, I had a HUGE crush on his son, who was/is a jazz saxophonist and clarinetist and also played in the church band, but that’s a story for another day.)  One of the hymns we played a few times a year was called “Sing of the Lord’s Goodness,” which is notable for being in 5/4 time.  Whenever this hymn was on the schedule, it was usually the recessional, or the last song played as the clergy processed out and the congregation got ready to leave, so we were able to have some fun with it.  After a couple verses the piano player and his son would usually morph it into “Take Five,” a famous jazz standard by Dave Brubeck which is also in 5/4 time.  Anyway, the first time I listened to this song in full, it got to Judas’s line “People who are hungry, people who are starving,” and I sat bolt upright and went “HOLY SHIT THIS IS ‘SING OF THE LORD’S GOODNESS/TAKE FIVE.’”  And I was ricocheted back in time to being fourteen and trying to keep up with this father/son duo in a cavernous Catholic church while simultaneously making heart-eyes at the son.  Final note: This is the only song in the musical to feature all three leads (Jesus, Judas, and Mary Magdalene) and is mostly Jesus and MM being soft with each other in between bouts of Jesus and Judas snarling at one another.

6) This Jesus Must Die: I LOVE that all the villains in this production are in tailored suits.  LOVE IT.  Also, Caiaphas and Annas are a comedy duo akin to “the thin guy and the fat guy,” except in this case it’s “the low basso profundo and the high tenor.”  Excellent use of the arena video screen again, this time as CCTV.

7) Hosanna: My background as a church musician strikes back again.  It honestly took me two or three listens to catch it, but then I had another moment of sitting bolt upright and going “HOLY SHIT THIS IS A PSALM.”  Psalms sung in church usually take the form of call-and-response, with a cantor singing the verses and the congregation joining in for the chorus.  If I close my eyes during this song, I have no trouble imagining Jesus as a church cantor singing the verses and then bringing the congregation in for the “Ho-sanna, Hey-sanna” chorus. 

8) Simon Zealotes: This is part “Gloria In Excelsis” and part over-the-top Gospel song.  Honestly it’s not my favorite, but it marks an important mood change in the show.  The end of “Hosanna” is probably Jesus at his happiest in the entire show, and then Simon comes in and sours the mood by trying to tip the triumphant moment into a violent one.  Jesus is not truly happy again from this moment on.

9) Poor Jerusalem: Also not my fave.  It kinda reads like Webber and Rice realized that Jesus didn’t have a solo aria in Act I, so they came up with this.  But it has the distinction of containing the lyric, “To conquer death you only have to die,” which is the biggest overarching theme of the story.

10) Pilate’s Dream: Pontius Pilate might be the most underrated role in this entire show, and I love that this production has him singing this song while being dressed in judge’s robes.  

11) The Temple: The first half of this is one of the campiest numbers in Act I, at least in this production, and it’s awesome.  The second half is one of the saddest, as Jesus tries to heal the sick but finds there are too many of them.  Also the whole scene is almost entirely in 7/8 time, which I think is just cool.

12) I Don’t Know How To Love Him: Mary Magdalene’s big aria, and one of the songs I knew prior to seeing the full-length show.  This production has MM taking off her heavy lipstick and eye makeup onstage, mid-song, which is kind of cool.  Melanie C says in a BTS interview that MM’s makeup is her armor, so this is a Big Symbolic Moment.

13) Damned For All Time: The scene transition into this song is played entirely in pantomime, and I love it.  The solo guitarist gets to be onstage for a bit, A+ use of the video screen again to show Judas on CCTV, etc.  Love it.  And then this song is Judas frantically rationalizing what he’s doing, and what he’s about to do, with Caiphas and Annas just reacting with raised eyebrows and knowing looks.

14) Blood Money: This is where the tone of the show really takes a turn for the dark.  I think this might be one of Tim Minchin’s finest moments as Judas, because his facial expressions and microexpressions throughout this scene speak absolute volumes.  And the offstage chorus quietly singing “Well done Judas” as he picks up the money is a positively chilling way to end Act I.

15) The Last Supper: Act II begins with major “Drink With Me” vibes.  (Except JCS came WAY before Les Miz, so it’s probably more accurate to say that “Drink With Me” has major “The Last Supper” vibes.)  Jesus and Judas have their knock-down, drag-out fight, and it’s honestly heartbreaking, thanks again to Tim Minchin’s facial expressions.  A well-done production of JCS will really convey that Jesus and Judas were once closer than brothers, even though their relationship is at breaking point when Act I begins.

16) Gethsemane: This is Jesus’s major showpiece and one of my faves.  Jesus knows he has less than 24 hours to live, he knows he’s going to suffer, and worst of all, he doesn’t know whether it’s going to be worth it.  It’s an emotional rollercoaster to watch and to perform, and it goes on for ages: something like 6 or 7 minutes.  Fun fact: the famous G5 is not written in the score.  Ian Gillan, who played Jesus on the original concept album, just sang it that way, so most subsequent Jesuses have also done it that way.  Lindsay Ellis has a great supercut of this on YT.  John Legend notably sang the line as written during the 2018 concert.  

17) The Arrest: Judas’s Betrayer’s Kiss is played differently across different productions.  The 2012 version is pretty tame - I’ve seen clips and gifs of other productions, including the 2000 direct-to-video version, where they kiss fully on the mouth and have to be dragged apart by the guards and it is THE MOST TENDER THING.  Then the 7/8 riff from “The Temple” comes back and the 2012 version lets the video screen do its thing again as Jesus is swarmed by reporters.

18) Peter’s Denial: Not much to say about this one, as it’s basically a scene transition.  But it’s a significant moment in the Passion story, so I’m glad they included it.

19) Pilate and Christ: The 2012 production continues with the theme of Caiaphas, Annas, and Pilate all being bougie af, since Pilate intentionally looks like he just came from tennis practice during this scene.  Also he does pilates...hehehe.

20) King Herod’s Song: Tim Minchin says in a BTS interview that JCS works best when Jesus and Judas are played seriously and the rest of the production is allowed to be completely camp and wild and bizarre all around them, and he is bloody well CORRECT about that.  Case in point: King Herod.  There is not a single production of JCS that I know of where Herod is played “straight.”  He’s been played by everyone from Alice Cooper to Jack Black, and everyone puts a different zany spin on him.  In JCS 2012 he’s a chat show host in a red crushed velvet suit, who is clearly having the time of his LIFE. 

21) Could We Start Again Please: This is another of my faves.  Just a quiet moment where MM, Peter, and the disciples try to grapple with the fact that Jesus is arrested and things are going very, very badly.  This is also my favorite Melanie C moment of the 2012 show.  Her grief is very real, and the little moment she has with Peter at the end is very real.

22) Death of Judas: This is basically Tim Minchin screaming for about five minutes, and incredibly harrowing to watch on first viewing.  

23) Trial Before Pilate: Possibly my single favorite scene in the entire 2012 production.  This is another harrowing watch, but there’s so much to take in.  The “set” that the entire show takes place on is essentially just a massive staircase, and the people with power are almost always positioned above the people without power.  In this scene, the crowd shouting “Crucify Him!” is positioned above Pilate, which is a very telling clue to Pilate’s psychology during this scene.  Jesus is at the very bottom of the stairs, of course.  Excellent use of the video screen once again during the 39 Lashes, to show the lash marks building and building until the entire screen is a wash of red.  Pilate’s counting also gets more and more frantic, especially starting around “20.”  And all the while the guitar riff from “Heaven On Their Minds” is playing.  Jesus’s line “Everything is fixed and you can’t change it” is played quite differently in different productions - here it’s defiant, but elsewhere (in JCS 2000 for example) it’s almost tender, like Jesus is absolving Pilate for his part in the trial.  But it always ends the same - with Pilate almost screaming as he passes the sentence and “washes his hands” of the whole sorry business. 

24) Superstar: The most over-the-top number in the show.  Judas, who died two scenes ago, comes back to sing this.  There are soul singers.  There are girls in skimpy angel costumes.  The parkour guys from the prologue are back.  Judas pulls a tambourine out of hammerspace midway through the song.  And Jesus is silently screaming and crying as he gets hoisted onto a lighting beam while all this is going on.

25) The Crucifixion: More of a spoken-word piece than a song, it’s Jesus’s final words on the cross over eerie piano music, and another harrowing watch.

26) John 19:41: An instrumental piece in which Jesus is taken from the cross and carried, at last, to the top of the stairs, before being lowered out of sight as the video screen turns into a memorial wall and everything fades to black.

So.  I know I’m anywhere from three to fifty-one years late to this particular party, but I am on the JCS bandwagon now and I’m thoroughly enjoying myself.  :)

#jesus christ superstar #jcs 2012 #jcs is all i have been thinking about all week sorry not sorry #ben forster #tim minchin #melanie c #andrew lloyd webber #tim rice