#which probably comes down to good following choices

[slutt4ellie]

Fated hearts starts with fire

(Will most likely have more then one part!!)

Ellie Williams x Reader

Moving to a new city is tough, but it’s even harder when your roommate is a dick.

Summery: You moved out of your childhood town to peruse writing in NYC. While apartment searching you ended up finding a place 10 minutes off your campus, the one down side is you had to share it with a complete stranger.

Warnings -> Ellie’s just a complete dick, for good reasons! (sorta) / Alcohol usage / Mean!Ellie / Mean!Reader (sorta idk!) / I explained the clothes the reader is wearing twice but it doesn’t describe the reader being masc or fem! / WILL BE A SLOW BURN! / (Eventual smut ) / mention of previous relationships / toxic relationships /(Lmk if I missed anything else!)

WC: 4k!!

(Not Proofread!!)

DAILY CLICK 🇵🇸

You were beyond fucking nervous. 

You grew up in a small town since childhood and you’re currently standing outside your apartment in one of the biggest cities in America. New York City. 

Your parents thought you were “foolish” for chasing an imaginary dream which was writing. They constantly let you know that too, telling you most authors and writers go unnoticed by people with a greater talent and following.

Regardless it didn’t stop you from applying to a university in New York, and once you got in, you assumed it was a sign to pack up and leave the small city you called home for 18 years. 

Getting into one of your dream schools, packing up and leaving your parents, that was a few weeks ago and now you’re standing outside your two bedroom apartment. That’s right, two bedroom fucking aparment, it definitely wasn’t your ideal choice but when you saw an ad posted for a shared apartment for about 1.5k a month, you couldn’t exactly pass. 

Rent was already fucking expessive and now that you live in New York finding a place to live for under 3k well that was nearly impossible. So you quickly passed on the opportunity and decided you needed to step out for once and meet a new person, that being your roommate. 

You didn’t really know much about them other than the fact she was a girl, I mean you exchanged a few messages but to be honest she was dry, she only wanted a roommate because she couldn’t afford the apartment on her own and the person that previously lived with her had to move back to their hometown.

The fact she was a girl actually shared some comfort, I mean if it was a guy you would have been fine but trying to find something to relate on probably would have eventually killed you. 

So here you are, standing outside your new apartment with a key that the receptionist gave you, after you explained you were a new tenant that was moving. You weren’t a huge “people person", you had a few friends in high school which you still talk to often but other than that you were a homebody. You decided to nervously knock before entering the apartment which on the contrary seemed stupid since it was now also your apartment but it almost seemed respectful.

A voice followed the knock “Yeah it’s open you can come in!” That was your cue to open the door and your eyes were quickly met with peircing green ones. The girl had auburn haired with freckles that trailed her face, and a tiny scar on her eyebrow. “Who are you?” The girl said harshly looking you up and down which genuinely made you uncomfortable, but it’s not something you decide to mention. “I-I’m your roommate we talked. I’m-” You nervously held out your hand to shake which led the auburn haired girl to shake her head “I don’t have to know your name, we’re roommates, not friends.” Harsh, is all you could think. You just uncomfortably nod your head and let out a slight “Right.”

She just looks at the few boxes you had on the transport trolley and focuses her attention back on the tv as she plops back down on the couch. “Your room is down the hall on the left. Just put your shit there.” She sighs. 

I mean she's not the nicest person you’ve ever met but as of now you're sorta intruding on her space so you’d like to give her the benefit of the doubt and say that’s why she seems to be on edge with your presence..!

It took you only a few hours to get your room setup. Since you moved pretty from your hometown you didn’t have the luxury of taking big things. Like your bed, mattress, shit like that. So you had a room, but the normal committees that come with a bedroom unfortunately didn’t apply. 

You also knew you had to get food considering you had nothing, you just took an assumption that the auburn hair girl wasn’t going to be suddenly sharing and giving you a helping hand allowing you to take something to eat. 

You got dressed throwing on a jacket and jeans to accommodate for the coldish weather that was taking place in NYC right now. But as you leave your room and walk down the hallway you notice the girl now has a friend sitting beside her on the couch. The person who you’re assuming is her friend has long brunette hair, brown doe eyes, and a nice smile. “Ellie just come onnnnn! Come to the party, forget about Cat and actually go out!” Okay so the auburn haired girl's name is Ellie, looks like her mysterious persona is now gone. You thought to yourself. 

And you must have been staring for to long because Ellies green eyes now meet yours and your face flushes red as she speaks “Can I fucking help you?” As Ellie finishes her sentence the brunette nudges her hard muttering something along the lines of “You don’t always have to be a dick!”

Now that you feel your self respect has gone since you were caught staring like a deer in headlights, you just shake your head fast, and incredibly embarrassed. This ultimately leads you to leave the apartment fast just as fast as you entered and go to the closest grocery store you could possibly find..

That whole interaction had to be at least an hour or so ago because when you entered the apartment both hands cuffing grocery bags it was completely empty, the fact that Ellie and the brunette were talking about some party had you come to the conscience that they most likely went to it, which to be fair you weren’t exactly complaining. You’re almost sure Ellie hates you anyway so the fact you didn’t have to deal with her almost felt like a breath of fresh air. 

After putting away the groceries you sat down on the couch and pulled out your phone. There were a few messages from your parents and your very few high school friends reaching out to see how the move went.

Mommmmmm ❤️ 

(5:30pm) - “Hey hun, checking to see how the move went! You’re officially a city girl 😎”

You

(7:32pm) - “So far so good! Settling in well!”

Mommmmmm ❤️

(7:33pm) - “How's ur roomy? Must be strange living with someone who's not me and dad. 😂”

You

(7:35pm) - “Definitely weird, but she's nice! I’m gonna make dinner love u mom ❤️”

Mommmmmm ❤️

(7:35pm) - “Love you honey! Get something in your stomach. 😘”

You knew lying to your mom was sorta shitty but if you told your mom “Yeah my roommate is kinda a dick. She wouldn’t drop it trying to convince you that you 100% would need a new apartment and you’ve already accepted that 1.5k a month is the cheapest you’re ever going to find. So lying seemed like a smooth approach to the situation. 

Dad  

(7:45pm) - Your mother let me know everything's going well with the move. Good to hear.

You

(7:47pm) - Yep! Thanks dad. 

(Read)

That was usually you the most you got from your dad, he wasn’t very “Lovey dovey” as your mom would say which you tried not to blame him, your relationship wasn’t too toxic other then the writing thing. 

One thing you have been doing is texting your friends all day letting the know about the roommate situation and everything that’s been going on. 

You 

(5:20pm)- I don't wanna move in, I don't wanna move in, I don't wanna move in, I don't wanna move in

Jess 🤗

(6:30pm) - Youll be fineeee!

Alex 🙊

(6:33pm) - yeah youll be fine! 

You

(6:34pm) - Guys actually help

(6:35pm) - Come to nyc

(6:35pm) - Come to nyc

(6:35pm) - SHE'S MEANN. 

Jess 🤗

(7:00pm) - WHO?

You

(7:10pm) - MY ROOMMATE

Alex 🙊

(7:33pm) - tf is happening? 😭

 You

(8:00pm) - fuck so when I first moved in she told me we dont have to fucking know each others names because were “Roomates and not friends” 

(8:01pm) - then I was gna go buy groceries and i accidentally stared and she she asked me if I fucking needed something

Alex 🙊

(8:33pm) - HUH? 

Jess 🤗

(8:40pm) - WHAT DID U DO?

 You

(8:44pm) - NOTHING. 

Jess 🤗

(8:40pm) - praying for u! 😁

Alex 🙊

(8:44pm) - same here girl

That was the last message you and your friends exchanged. They tried to calm you down a bit but you never had someone dislike you. You weren’t at all popular in school so you often went unnoticed which was FINE. But actually having someone dislike you and be open about the fact they actually don't enjoy your company was sorta humbling in a way?

You didn’t wanna force Ellie to like you but you didn’t understand why she already deemed that you were annoying or something.The thing you kept on going back to was the fact it was manly her space weather or not you liked it, it was almost like you were intruding and I guess if she felt that way you couldn’t blame her. 

It only took around 12 until your heard stumbling outside your apartment. It was a few seconds after when the front door opened and a man and woman let themselves in without knocking. You would have probably freaked out but the girl was the same one that was sitting on the couch with Ellie and she gave you a quick smile. “Hi” She has a very drunk Ellie on her shoulder which she quickly lets her down on the couch and picks her words back up looking straight at you “I’m Dina, this is Jesse, we're friends of Ellie.” She smiles and nudges Jesse which leads him to shake your hand softly. You followed up by telling them your name with a smile before you looked at Ellies limpish body on the couch. 

“Is she okay?” You looked at her, Ellie seemed way less hostile while she was sleeping which was refreshing. Dina almost instantly nods looking at you. “Oh yeah, she's just- she went a bit overboard tonight!” Jesse sorta chuckles “Cat situation clearly got her worked up” Your mind couldn’t help but wonder, did she fucking lose her cat or something, is that why shes so unreasonably moody. I mean it would make sense? 

You just nod looking at the pair, I mean you didn’t know what the fuck to say and this led Dina awkwardly make split eyecontact with you which followed by looking back at Jesse. “Well! We should get going It’s late and all and we got morning classes”

“Fuck tell me about it” You chuckle looking at them before talking “It was nice to meet you guys.” You smile nodding looking at them and Dina and Jesse both smile giving you a nice “Yeah you too” 

You went into your bedless room laying down a blanket against the cold wooden floor and layed a pillow right above that. Your mind wandered that night, you tried not to pay much attention to your roommate or what her friends said but you didn’t have much else to think about. Class started tomorrow and as much as you loved writing you had an undoubting feeling your professors were not going to pass up the chance to give you some insanely long ass writing assignment. So thinking about what Ellie's friends said was unfortunately on your mind.

When Jesse said “The cat situation” it had your mind go straight to the fact she probably lost her pet cat or something. But the more you thought about it, that seemed a tad bit far-fetched considering the conversion Dina was having with Ellie as they were talking on the couch “Ellie just come onnnnn! Come to the party, forget about Cat and actually go out!” you just took the benefit of the doubt and wanted to say that most people would probably say “Forget about the cat” while referring to the pet cat! I mean unless Dinas grammar is just really ass. Cat is most likely a person. 

You quickly shake your head mumbling out a quick “This is stupid” it was 1am, and you're thinking about whether your roommates' friends were talking about a real cat or a person. Fuck you need to make some friends here, because if this is how you’re going to be spending your nights it’s going to get rough quick!

The morning was groggy as your alarm woke you up. You had classes that you needed to go to and you refused to let yourself be late to the first day. You got up throwing on a pair of pants and a sweater that will make sure you’re not freezing your ass off during the day. You left your room and just to your fucking luck Ellie’s leaving her room at the exact same time leaving the both of you with weird ass awkward eye contact. You assumed she must have gotten off the couch some time throughout the night considering she's now in her bedroom. Since you were both staring for about 10 seconds Ellie finally talks. “I heard if you take a picture it will last longer?” 

You tried to shrug off the comment but each time she spoke it was like nothing nice was going to come out of her mouth. You just turned on your heel shifting your gaze from hers, going down the hallway trying your best to not give her a reaction. It was better to be the bigger person consider it feels like your literal fucking roomates with a 13 year old boy. 

“You look shitty?” She says with a slight chuckle. Well that one did hurt. Manly because you spent time this morning making sure you looked presentable for the people you were going to face in class. You didn’t understand why she said it, but whether or not it was supposed to come out as a joke it hurt. “Did I do something or are you just like this with literally everyone.” You say avoiding her gaze. 

“Like?” She says, and this is now the longest you two have had a reciprocating conversation and it’s literally just insults. “Just a fucking prick” You say grabbing your bag and a protein bar. Luckily for you this time she didn't respond, her eyebrows slightly furrowed at your comment and you can tell it definitely struck a nerve. She just leaves the kitchen island and sits on the couch. And that was your invitation to also leave. You couldn’t be bothered to pursue this conversation any longer so you left and caught a taxi to your University. 

(Ellies Pov)

Yesterday

“I don’t wanna go to a fucking party man” Ellie groans looking at Dina as she continues to beg. “Ellie just come onnnnn! Come to the party, forget about Cat and actually go out!” Ellie catches your gaze and talks directly at you “Can I fucking help you?” Ellie says getting followed up with a hard nudge from Dina “You don’t always need to be a dick!” Ellie watches as you trip over your feet stumbling out of the apartment with a red face, clearly embarrassed. “What’s your issue?” Dina says, turning Ellies concentration straight back on her. “Nothing!” Ellie says, trying to defend her shitty behaviour. “You realize you dont always have to be fucking passive” Dina says looking at Ellie, as Ellies desperately trying avoid it. “I'm not being passive?!” Dina scoffs and puts on a deep voice trying to mock her “Can I fucking help you?” Dina says, looking at Ellie. “Literally coming from the same girl who sleeps with a dinosaur stuffed animal” Dina laughs, causing Ellie to defensively shake her head. “What the fuck! No I don't!” Dina nods and talks again “Ellie just come to the party she won’t even be there!” 

“Cat suddenly doesn’t come to parties?” Ellie shakes her head looking at Dina. “She won't be at this one! Just pleaseeee!!! School is gonna start then you’re going to complain because you missed this party.” Ellie cracks out a little smile and finally nod “Fuck okay okay! 

That led Ellie to the point she is now, in a taxi with Dina and Jesse. “It’s gonna be funn!” Dina smiles reassuring Ellie, which clearly doesn’t work because Ellies shakes her head “I think we got different meanings of fun Dina.” Dina shakes her and looks at Jesse and nudges him “Jesse you convince her. “Dude just put on a smile and once we get some shots in you it will be fine. We’re gonna have fun!” Ellie just smiles at the pair and nods. “Alrightttt!” They both smile at Ellie finally cracking a smile. “Yess!” Dina says. 

The night was smooth sailing for most of the time, when Ellie got some shots in her the tenseness of the night sorta just faded and it allowed her to actually enjoy the night. Ellie even flirted with a couple girls which was rare. I mean it didn’t lead anywhere because she 100% wasn’t ready for that, but it was nice. Especially after Cat. 

And just as Ellie thought the night was going well and she was talking to a girl there was a light tap on the shoulder and she was met with the same brown eyes that she spent about a year and a half with. 

Fucking cat.  

“Hey sun..” Cat says. And Ellie couldn’t help but cringe at the words. Sun, that’s what Cat always called Ellie when they were dating, and now that they 100% weren’t dating, it sorta just felt like a fresh wound. Ellie is a bit drunk (Really drunk) but she quickly spits out some words “Don’t call me that Cat.” Cat almost seems dumbfounded at Ellies words, like she couldn’t process the fact Ellie didn’t wanna get called some corny fucking pet name. 

“Okay..sorry. It’s like I always used to call you that?-” Cat says looking at Ellie trying to meet her green eyes but Ellie refuses to make eye contact. “Yeah, fucking used to. Just fu-” Dina quickly jumps in noticing Ellies hands are clenched and that nothing well is going to resolve from this conversation. “Hey Els go get some air with Jesse!” Dina quickly suggest signalling jesse over with a tilt of her head which causes him to walk over “Go take Ellie outside real quick please” He just smiles and nods, taking Ellie by the shoulder as she stumbles over her feet.

“Cat stop trying to talk to her. It’s still fresh and you’re acting like you breaking up with her was some game, okay you two are over and you made that decision.” Dina says sternly once Ellie and Jesse are outside. And Cat shakes her head fast. “I-I’m not even acting like it was some game?” Cat says getting defensive “I said we should take a break!” Cat says looking at Dina. “Then you fucking kissed a girl infront of her!” Dina says now also getting annoyed. The fact Cat wasn’t cluing into the fact she hurt Ellie was getting old. “Leave Ellie the fuck alone Cat” Dina says leaving the house to go meet up with Jesse and Ellie. 

“Is she okay?” Dina asks, looking at Ellie as she leans her head on his shoulder. Jesse looks at Dina and shrugs. “Other than the fact she just threw up 3 times I think she's okay!” He chuckles sarcastically. “Deal with Cat?” He asks as him and Dina now hold Ellie up. “Fuck shes unsufferable, but yeah, I think she got the message this time.”

This is what leads Dina and Jesse to drag and Ellie back to her shared apartment with you. They quickly open the door without knocking and Dina instantly notices your slightly panicked face “Hi” Dina says with a very drunk Ellie on her shoulder, Dina lets down Ellie lightly on the couch and Ellies body falls limp.

This is when Dina clues in you two haven’t properly met. “I’m Dina, this is Jesse, we're friends of Ellie.” Dina smiles and nudges Jesse which leads him to shake your hand softly. Dina and Jesse quickly learned your name as you followed up by telling them with a smile before you decide to talk again.. “Is she okay?”

Dina heard how your voice was soft. She wanted to give you props for even caring considering what Ellie said earlier to you  “Oh yeah, she's just- she went a bit overboard tonight!” Jesse sorta chuckles “Cat situation clearly got her worked up” They both noticed how your eyebrows furrowed clearly thinking about something but they didn’t think it was important to mention.

Dina breaks the awkward ass silence saying “Well! We should get going It’s late and all and we got morning classes”

You nodded to her words and said “Fuck tell me about it” You smiled looking at them before talking “It was nice to meet you guys.” You smile nodding looking at them and Dina and Jesse both smile giving you a nice “Yeah you too” 

Ellie’s night was shit, she woke up on the couch around 4am and noticed Dina and Jesse were nowhere to be seen. Since she woke up at 4am she did make it back into her bedroom but regardless the next morning her hangover was horrible. As she leaves her room she notices you walk out at the exact same fucking time. Great! It was followed by an awkward stare. Ellie noticed you must have gotten up early because you were put together but she would say that. Considering her night was shitty and you both were looking at each other like a deer lost in headlights she comes up with the bright idea to say “I heard if you take a picture it will last longer?” I mean it was harsh but it was easy!

You turned on your heel without giving Ellie a reaction which left her puzzled. I mean she didn’t do it for a reaction but the fact you didn’t give her one was weird. She sees you walk to the kitchen island and grab your bag. Again Ellie’s mouth thought way faster than her thoughts. “You look shitty?” She says it with a slight chuckle. I mean she didn’t mean it but now she was curious if you would break. 

And this time you did. Your eyebrows furrowed and she saw how her words actually affected you. Your eyes just looked more sad when she said those words. “Did I do something or are you just like this with literally everyone.” Ellie quickly picks up on how you’re avoiding her gaze, which works in her favor because if you did end up making eye contact with her you would see how her eyes faltered for a split second showing an ounce of sympathy.  

“Like?” Ellie says trying to keep up this shitty tough persona which really makes her come off as “Just a fucking prick” It’s like you finished what she was thinking and she didn’t like it. Because it’s one thing to act like one but now that it was brought to her attention it was like something she just really didn’t want to hear. 

This leads Ellie to get embarrassed on the fact you actually did call her out, she quickly turns her head facing away from you which was on purpose and she sat down on the couch which faces the tv. She hears your footsteps getting closer to the door and way more distance. Then there's a final slam of the door. You’re gone now.

Ellie’s not even looking at the tv, just straight ahead, because not only does she have a new roommate. But you fully were willing to actually call her out without a second thought.

Which Ellie doesn't like. 

Part 2

A/N -> HI! I feel like I have to apologize for literally leaving for like a month but I have had almost 0 motivation to write.

School has me really busy so it’s sorta just consuming all my free time. I also realized in my first fic I rushed to get the parts out which made the whole process of making them less enjoyable!

That being said for this one i’m not going to force myself to write I’m going to do it on my accord! (but that doesn’t mean each part is gonna take like a month btw!)

I hope you guys enjoyed reading this because I did enjoy making/ coming up with the plot. And I promise in future chapters it will get more interesting 😭 (let’s also not talk about how the reader didn’t know ellie’s name till they moved in, which I know is unrealistic asf!)

This is really just to start it off making sure the plot is understandable. 🫶🏽

#ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #lgbtq #the last of us #the last of us two #ellie x y/n #mean ellie #ellie smut #cute #wlw post #wlw #lesbian #gay #slutt4ellie #like #thelastofus #elliewilliams #loser!ellie #ellie x you #wlw love #queer

[bangarangdarling]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

#Listen this is cheesy and poorly written but i HAD to #go find that tik tok because it was hilarious but also radiated love and healthy parenting #they called it 'gentle parenting with malicious intent' looooool #steddie #the party #my brain vomit

[sincerelyyycece]

hey, are u still there?...good.

Y/N inevitably finds themselves settling into James's backburner.

note: modern au, inspired by niki's song, "backburner.", lily evans is briefly mentioned, here's what i promised you guys mwa mwa!

sincerelyyycece © ─ all rights reserved. please do not repost/translate/copy any of my work.

Y/N had always been the "backburner," the second choice, especially James’s second choice. She was the one he turned to when his first plans fell through—the one who was always there but never the priority. She was used to it and had grown comfortable in the role.

Right now, she's sent at least 15 messages to him.

Hey?

Can we meet up? I have some great news to tell you.

Hellooo.

You're probably busy. Text me when you can.

James?  Did something happen?

Nevermind, I'm probably overthinking it.

I'll just tell you here.

I got the internship :)

Delivered. Gazing at her screen, she sighed with a sense of familiarity. This repetitive pattern felt more like a routine or a game to her. The 'How long till he talks to me again?' Game, as she calls it. Setting her phone aside, she sought distraction from the mundane task of doing laundry.

A moment later, her phone chimed, drawing her attention. With a swift motion, she turned towards it. Hastily, she wiped her damp hands and cleared her throat before uttering, "Hello?" On the other end, she could hear faint shuffling before a familiar voice greeted her, "Hey, Angel." The affectionate nickname warmed her heart. "Just got your text. Congratulations!" he exclaimed. A soft "thank you" escaped her lips in response. His greeting sent a wave of warmth through her. "Apologies for not replying sooner. I was with..." He paused, clearing his throat. Her mood dimmed at the mention of another name. "With someone. I was with someone.”

Lily, always the first choice, James's top priority, the standard against which she measures herself. "Yeah, sure," she responded, lacking enthusiasm. "Mm-hmm," he trailed off. "So, do you want to celebrate? We could go out to eat or stay in and watch a movie," he suggested. "I'm not really feeling up to it right now. I'm pretty tired." There was a rustling sound on the phone once more. "Look, if this is about earlier, I apologize, alright?" he said. "Lily had some things going on and wanted to meet up, so we did." There it was again. Everything revolves around Lily.

"Um, yeah, I understand," she stuttered, trying to articulate her thoughts. "It's not that, James. I'm just exhausted from chores," she explained, glancing subtly at her unfinished laundry pile. "Y/N, come on. Let me make it up to you," he pleaded earnestly. "Pretty please," he persisted. She shook her head, amused, and relented, saying, "Okay, okay." Through the phone, she could hear his small yet enthusiastic 'yes.' "Order some takeout. We'll have a cosy night in with a movie," she suggested. "Yes, ma'am. I'm on my way," he joked lightly. "Take care." With that, she hung up and returned immediately to her laundry task.

Following that day, they continued hanging out. She pondered over the abrupt shift in their dynamic. It was uncharacteristic for her, yet she relished every moment spent with him. He delighted her by taking her to places she longed to visit and presenting her with gifts tailored to her preferences. He seemed to be doing everything right. However, as she prepared for a movie night tonight, a disheartening text message appeared on her phone. Hey, something came up. I have to reschedule. Sorry. She sighed, feeling a tinge of disappointment. Perhaps she should have anticipated this turn of events.

Sure, we can reschedule. she replied, her eyes brimming with tears. As they cascaded down her cheeks that night, she found herself immersed in a sea of sorrow. The following morning, she anticipated a message from him, but none arrived. Disheartened once more, she resolved not to reach out again. Days turned into weeks, with silence echoing his absence. It seemed as though he had vanished from her world. Or so she believed. Suddenly, her phone interrupted her reading, and without lifting her gaze from the book, she answered, "Hello?”

"Hey, are you still there?” echoed the familiar voice in her ears. Pausing, she glanced at the caller's ID. 'James :)' flashed on the screen. With a soft hum, she replied. His sigh reached her ears before he responded, "Good." Once more, she felt relegated to the sidelines in his priorities or had she truly ever moved from that place? Despite the familiar sting of disappointment, Y/N responded, "Yeah, I'm still here, James." His sigh of relief was almost audible across the line, and for a fleeting moment, she felt herself soften.

"I'm sorry, Angel," he murmured, his voice laced with a mixture of regret and something else she couldn't quite place. "I've been...busy." Busy, always busy. But she knew what that meant. Lily. Yet, she found herself replying, "It's okay, James. I understand." She knew she was settling for less, allowing herself to be on the backburner once again. But the truth was, she couldn't help it. She was drawn to him, like a moth to a flame, willingly choosing to dance on the edges of his life, even if it meant getting burned time and time again.

So, she swallowed back the hurt and disappointment, offering him a smile he couldn't see. "We can catch up soon, okay?" She suggested, her voice steady. There was a brief silence before he answered, "Yeah, that sounds good. I'll see you soon, Angel." With that, the call ended, leaving her with the familiar echoes of his promises. She sat alone in the silence of her room, her heart heavy yet hopeful. As she closed her eyes, she knew, deep down, that she was still James's second choice, his backburner. But for now, for better or worse, that was a role she was willing to play.

#james potter #james potter fic #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter angst #james potter x you #james potter x y/n

[norman-fucking-reedus]

Okaay we’ve talked about Daryl with his daughter but lets talk about your pregnancy for a second..

I can imagine Daryl coming back late in the night, so tired and sore from a long day of work. You had only found out a few hours prior, and seeing the physical ache in his body you knew he could use some hopefully very good news.

“Hi there hunterman” You whispered, sliding his crossbow off his shoulders as he kicked his muddy boots off.

Daryl dropped his head down onto your shoulder, sighing heavily. “Hi”

A moment a silence passed, you simply combing your fingers through Daryl’s hair before gently guiding him to raise his head, eyes meeting yours.

“I have something to tell you” Daryl raised a brow, hands settling st your waist. “Not dyin’ are ya?” You giggled, shaking your head

Reaching for your back pocket, you pulled the test out and handed it to him, watching as he took it between his fingers with a confused gaze, which quickly turned into excitement.

“No way”

“Yes way. We’re gonna have a little Dixon”

Daryl wrapped his arms tightly around you, smile resting on his face until it slowly disappear, a set of tears following suit. He sniffled softly, and you raised your hands up to wipe his falling tears. “It’s okay, big guy.”

“Wha’ if m’not a good dad?” He whispered, and you rolled your eyes at him. “I wouldn’t have picked you if I didn’t think you’d be a perfect dad” You wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him passionately as his arm circled your waist, a hand sliding up your shirt and caressing the skin.

When you start to go through hormone changes and start forming a bump, Daryl becomes super protective of you. Much so to the point that it annoys you but he doesn’t care, he’ll literally die before someone lays a finger on his woman.

He strictly forbids you from leaving the walls, telling everyone on watch duty to not let you out no matter how much you yell, which in fact, yelled at them a lot. He also refused to let you carry anything that looked just a hair too heavy.

“Nope. Nah. Give ‘ere girl.”

“I can carry it, Dixon”

“I’on care, give it ta me”

He’ll forcibly take the item out your hand, because simply how dare you have to even lift a finger with that baby inside you.

I also honestly feel like Daryl would be really scared to have sex during your pregnancy. Now if its pleasure that you want, Daryl has no probably eating you out till your eyes are rolling and his jaw is cramping.

“I dun’ wanna hurt tha baby”

“Hurt them how?”

“..With m’dick??”

I think about the scene from Big Mouth when Jay fucks his pillow and screams “My dick is right next to the baby’s head” That’s all i’m gonna say about that

Daryl makes sure to give you half of his food, and you don’t have a choice but to take it. (Unless the baby says otherwise) He purposely hunts extra food for that you can have more to eat, especially the further you get along.

By the time you’re about seven months and very undoubtedly pregnant, Daryl would murder anyone in cold blood if they even looked at you wrong.

Although you were crabby and yelled a lot, he was at your complete beck and call. Daryl could only loving stare at you when you complained over something, thinking about how gorgeous you were and how lucky he was that you were the mother of his child.

“Nothing fits right anymore! My shoes don’t even fit”

“Ya don’ need yer shoes if ya never leave”

“I never leave ‘cause you keep me locked here like a fucking prisoner”

“M’keepin my pretty girls safe”

Lots of his clothes have been sacrificed considering you’re literally busting out of yours, and something predatory washes over him seeing your belly prutrude through his shirts.

Birth is definitely hard and Daryl definitely passed out once or twice, but being the man he is he forced himself to pull through for you, and the scars from your nails dragging down his flesh will be a fond memory followed by the sweet sound of loud crying.

You know how much Daryl loves kids, and you’re exhausted from all the pushing, so it only makes sense that he gets first hold. You watch with a small smile as Siddiq guides Daryl to take his shirt off, watching the burly man nervously but eagerly (and carefully) take his newborn into his large hands.

In that moment, cradling his very own precious babygirl, it felt like you were the only three people on earth. Daryl couldn’t take his eyes off the wiggling bundle of life in his arms, rocking slowly in the chair as he burned the image of her tiny little face into his mind.

As you stared at him, you couldn’t help but think about how you really did pick the perfect dad. Daryl Dixon, a hard, strong, intimidating man fear by many, who was now sitting softly, gently and quietly with his daughter laying ontop his bare chest, a large hand keeping her secured. Already a major daddys girl.

The baby stage is easily Daryl’s favorite, and he definitely gets up in the middle of the night when she starts crying or fussing.

I don’t think he’d put her down for a second, like you just won’t see Daryl without her hooked around his arm. He doesn’t bring her into the garage during bike repairs until shes older, not wanting to let his babg inhale toxic bike fumes.

Dog is her protector. Most dogs understand what babies are and how vulnerable to the world they are, so Daryl definitely trains Dog to stay by her side when he can’t be. Instead of sleeping on the couch Dog now sleeps right outside her crib.

On the one occasion when a group a raiders had started searching houses, yours having been one of the first, one of the men made the mistake of opening her door, Dog jumping swiftly into protective mode and clamping his canines into the mans leg. (Also ending the groups raid)

When it comes to breastfeeding, I can imagine the extra lengths Daryl would go. He makes sure you have enough food and nutrients to produce, and totally massages your boobs when you complain about the soreness.

When she’s big enough to start wearing clothes rather than onesies, Daryl definitely finds lots of super cute girly stuff for her because well only the best for his girls. He spoils her totally rotten.

Maybe not completely, but y’know. Her first words end up being an adorably butchered version of Daryl’s name, one that makes him wanna cry and scream cause his daughters first words were his own name.

“Baryl!”

“Ohh good jobs mommas baby! That’s daddys name!”

“She- said- she said- she just- she”

“It’s okay, Baryl we all heard it”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★

© norman-fucking-reedus 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, or adpated to any other platform. You may translate my works with my asked and given consent.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #the walking dead daryl #daryl fanfiction #norman fucking reedus #daryl x reader #twd #daryl x female reader #daryl dixion imagine

[stxrvel]

hate is a strong word

summary: you hated Bucky and you were convinced that he hated you back. until one time he was talking to you and it started to sound... lovely? what was happening?

pairing: bucky barnes x f!reader

words: 6k

warnings: some bad words, a lot of arguments, a HUGE flashback, a little bit of angst i think? bucky and reader insult each other, reader doesn't like to listen, bucky is easily angered, bucky likes to destroy things when he gets angry but regrets it easily, this is not exactly a healthy relationship(? descriptions of weapons, missiles and buildings being bombed, reader is also very stubborn and likes to put her life at risk… or so.

note: hi guys!! so i came back and i am kinda proud of this one. i think i haven't felt that way in a long time. i gave myself the time to write when i felt like it and it was wonderful, so this came out. also i put the poll for a whole week and i can't change it now >:(, but i think this onsehot fits the angst with a happy ending (im not sure if this fits the angst tho, you gotta tell me) but im gonna try to do something else that fits the vibe, and i'll probably do some other poll to write about someone else. (also i think i should warn you guys that i dont think im that good writing action scenes or tension scenes, so if that's bad i hope you forgive me): anyway, hope you guys like this one!! i love reading your comments so if you want and can, please leave some <33 love you all and see you next time!

part 2

Bucky was really pissing you off too much at that moment. Or maybe you were feeling a little uncomfortable.

He hadn't spoken a single word to you since you had arrived at that tiny house, only shrugged silently and then exploded. You had seen Bucky explode several times before and you admitted that watching him was somewhat entertaining; seeing the faces of frightened people, trying to flee away from his angry face and destructive hands, but physically forced to stand by and listen to his scolding. You used to have fun with that. However, at the time, when you were the extreme recipient of that anger, it wasn't so much fun.

You had already heard a couple of broken glass, shattered wood and metal containers fall to the ground. Maybe five minutes or so had passed and he was barely pausing to look at his artwork. It wasn't too much that he had taken and thrown while you had stayed in the room, but it had all sounded very loud, so you had no choice but to go out and see what he was doing.

You were leaning against the threshold of the hallway to the bedrooms, right across from the living room and kitchen. Bucky looked like he had just finished getting all his anger out when he finally stood silently. He probably thought you were asleep while he was doing all that, as if that sound couldn't wake you up. Was he really that angry about what you had done? You mean, yes, it was very risky, but there you were alive, weren't you?

You felt the best thing you could do was to stay quiet and wait for him to say or do something, because you could risk that angry outburst really coming down in your face. For that moment he had only taken it out on the house, which had nothing to do with your problems, and you didn't want the arguments to start filling the silence that followed his stillness.

But, well, you didn't always do the right thing. That's why you were in that situation in the first place.

“Are you done yet?” you signed your sentence.

Bucky had a tense posture, squared shoulders moving in rhythm with his accelerated breathing. His back was to you, staring at the kitchen counter that had been left completely empty. You knew by the way he was clasping his hands that he was trying to maintain his composure.

“Are you serious?” his voice came out hoarse, a sign of his growing anger.

Maybe you should have stopped there, or when he continued to not turn to look at you, but you just couldn't keep your mouth shut.

“What's your problem, Barnes? Yes, I took a chance, but it's not that big of a deal. It's not for this,” you pointed to the mess around you, even though he wasn't looking at you.

“It's not a big deal, you say?” Bucky moved and you felt yourself watching his angry figure move in slow motion. “What's your problem?”

His beady eyes met yours. You felt a little intimidated by the ripples of annoyance coming off his body, filling the entire room with an unbearable, suffocating tension. His scowl and that strangely calm tone of voice made your hair stand on end.

None of the pieces of glass or splintered wood on the floor looked as dangerous as that expression on Bucky's face. He looked very angry, yes, but there was also something in his eyes when he looked at you. Something like concern… but that was impossible.

“Really, Y/N, what's your problem? Who the fuck do you think you are?”

“Now, what the fuck are you talking about?”

“I was the mission leader!” his voice rose, his body moving forward as he pointed his index finger at himself. “And you were supposed to follow my orders.”

“I did, Barnes, I-”

“No,” he exclaimed, again moving closer. “You didn't do anything I asked you to do! Why can't you just…? Argh.”

You moved back a little as he planted his hands on the dining room table. You felt a little pressure in your chest at the sight of him like this, as if defeated and hopeless. Disappointed. But that was a common thing. That's why you used to have individual missions, and that's why you didn't really like working in a team. You mean, it wasn't wrong to do it, but everything always ended up in arguments because nobody liked the way you worked, so it was better to do it alone, right?

Seeing Bucky like that reminded you of how many times you had seen that look on the faces of Steve, Natasha, Tony, Clint, even Thor… It was never welcome nor were you comfortable with what was coming next, but it was the way you worked, how could you change out of nowhere something you had done your whole life?

Maybe you just had to apologize, sometimes that worked. Because you also knew that, knowing how bossy and caring Bucky was, you should have at least held back a little during the mission. Bucky's patience couldn't stand that sort of thing.

“Listen, I'm sorry, okay? I was a little careless, but that's how-”

“A little careless?” he interrupted you, his voice and face incredulous. "You almost got yourself killed."

“We're in this job under that risk, Barnes, that's not news.”

The man in the middle of the mess ran his hands over his face, elated, frustrated and surely overwhelmed. He let out a sound somewhere between a snort and a growl before turning back to look at you.

“Why can't you just listen?”

His accusing gaze enlarged a hole in your chest that you constantly tried to ignore, planting bitter feelings of sadness that you were usually very good at avoiding. But at that moment, for some reason, you couldn't stop your face from twitching at the strong, hurt tone of the man who looked at you as if he couldn't believe who you are and what you do. It seemed like Bucky was always in denial and today he realized that what everyone always told him was true.

That look, that dull gleam in his eye, that expression of understanding… All of that you were used to seeing, but coming from him it felt different. As if you hadn't really meant to cause those feelings, as if you wanted to turn back time to do things differently. The surprisingly incredulous and remorseful look was digging deep into your head, searing itself with hot iron to make sure to haunt you in the future.

At that moment you didn't care if Bucky realized how much his words affected you. Maybe you deserved to feel that way. Maybe he should have known that it affected you too much, that would surely do more than an apology.

“If only you had listened to me, we would have left sooner and without any trouble,” Bucky spoke again after what felt like hours of silence.

You couldn't take him back. It was true.

“Why did you…? Argh. Whatever. I'm going to report to Fury.”

His figure passed you like a blur. You barely felt his presence very superficially before all was silent again.

Your heart ached again. For some reason, it wouldn't stop hurting that it was still beating.

The day before.

“WHAT?” you exclaimed in disbelief and the director's tired look reappeared.

“It's already scheduled, Y/N, I can't undo it. So just go, try to cooperate together and come back in one piece,” Fury leaned back against the back of the chair, putting his feet up on the desk.

You looked at his shoes as if they were to blame for everything.

“It's funnier to think Bucky reacted the same way,” Tony spoke up, sitting in the chair next to yours, a mocking expression on his face.

“Shut up,” you smacked his arm before turning back to the director. “Sir, you know Barnes and I don't get along and knowing that, what makes you think we'll hit it off on a mission?”

Fury shrugged. “A hunch.”

“A hunch…?” you repeated in a low tone, twice as incredulous that the big SHIELD director had just said that.

“That's it, agent, you're dismissed.”

You left his office on your own, not because you had been dispatched. The walk to the housing complex took you longer than ever at that point.

You'd only had one mission with Bucky Barnes once a couple of years ago and it had been a disaster. Your group missions usually ended with a close call, but that time with Bucky it was like going to hell and back.

You two had never gotten along. Regardless of Fury's hundreds of attempts to get along, you had never managed to vibrate on the same frequency. It seemed more like you repelled each other every time you were together, and it was totally justified because Bucky was too bossy and wouldn't let you breathe for a single second. Every second of the mission had to be ruled by him because otherwise he was going to explode into a sea of rage and, God, no one wanted to piss Bucky off in that Complex. However, you were always the first to tell him that his tactics weren't working or that he was too slow and well, naturally, you ended up arguing.

You met Natasha and Steve halfway to the rooms and from the way they both looked at each other before the redhead approached you knew you must surely have a scrunched up face.

“Did something happen?” Natasha asked as soon as she reached your side and started walking at the same pace as you, slightly more hurried than usual.

“Fury assigned me a mission with Barnes,” you spat out the good news, impossibly frowning harder at the mention of that name.

“Oh,” Natasha nodded. “Well, you could try to work things out-”

“What things, Natasha?” you paused, turning to look at her as everything around you turned red. “There's nothing to fix here, because Barnes is a stubborn, obstinate, childish, bossy, stupid man who is incapable of speaking like a civilized adult and only knows how to shout orders everywhere as if he's the bossy one in the Complex. I can't stand him!”

“Wow.”

You heard his voice.

“I hope you know the feeling is reciprocated.”

You turned to see him, his body was leaning against the island at the entrance to the kitchen, in a strategic spot as if you could never realize he was there because your path was to the other side. Natasha watched between the two of you like a tennis match, fearful as if at any moment the screaming would start and she would have to run away.

You didn't know what to do. You were super angry, yes, and you felt your blood boiling inside your veins, too. And you'd said all that stuff to Bucky's face before, and God knows how many times before you'd argued just by seeing each other in the halls of the Complex. Despite that, you felt trapped. The anger was still there, yes, but his gaze pierced through you like a sword.

“Believe me, I don't want to go on this mission with a stubborn, obstinate, headstrong, ignorant, individualist like you either, who cares not for the safety of the team but for her own victory, no matter how she achieves it.”

With his eyes sharp, his heavy footsteps approached you, echoing in your head loudly like the second hand of a clock. He had stopped at a safe distance as he spoke and at one point Natasha had grabbed your arm when it seemed you had tried to approach him as well.

“You're a hypocrite,” you spat at him.

“Ha! Me?”

“You always play the saintly dove, but you know you're not much different from me.”

“I'm nothing like you,” Bucky wrinkled his face, as if the very thought caused him to shiver with disgust.

“You're an individualist, too, imposing your plans on others.”

“You never have a plan! What do you expect me to do, let you go and die?”

“I do have plans! But you don't like them because they are more effective than yours.”

“They're more effective at the cost of risking more of our lives.”

“That's what our job is all about!”

“Our job is about protecting! How are you going to accomplish a mission if you're dead?”

“Well, I've done pretty well so far, in case you haven't noticed.”

“If I had a nickel for every time you've gone airhead straight into danger and ended up nowhere near dead, I'd have as much money as Stark.”

“And if I had a nickel for every time your stupid, slow plans have caused you to lose sight of the target and made you come back empty-handed, I'd be twice as rich as Stark.”

“At least my kill rate is minus five.”

“And my hit rate is one hundred by the way.”

“Are you even listening to what you're saying?”

“That I always finish missions on the first try, unlike you?”

“That you're treating your life like it's something insignificant.”

“Ah, now you care about my life?”

Natasha tightened her hand around your forearm again preventing you from again getting too close to the man who was getting on your nerves. Before he could respond, you spoke again:

“Look, Barnes, to make it absolutely clear to you for the rest of your long life: I love my life and I love my job. I love my life because it allows me to have this job and I love my job because it allows me to have this life. If you have a problem with how I choose to do the job, that's just that, your problem. But don't think you're coming here to give me a psychology lesson to make me believe that I don't value my life just because now you've run out of arguments. It's because I value my life, Barnes, that I always come out of every mission unscathed. I don't put myself at risk because I'm oblivious. I always have everything figured out and that's why everything always works out for me.”

Bucky snorted, his body moving away from yours, but despite that expression on his face he didn't respond again. He gave you a sidelong glance before walking back into the kitchen.

Your shoulders felt a little lighter. For a moment you thought he was going to continue arguing.

Natasha next to you sighed, finally letting go of your forearm.

“Why did you hold me so tight?” you frowned at her, rubbing the part of your skin that was slightly red. “Did you really think I was going to fight a super soldier?”

Natasha shrugged under your gaze.

“We've known you to do crazy things.”

“I wouldn't have stood a chance of beating him even if he gave me the upper hand.”

Five hours earlier.

You hadn't seen Bucky for the rest of the day after that discussion, until the next day when you had to get on the Quinjet and didn't even glance at each other.

Steve was in charge of handling the airplane and, apparently, he was also in charge of briefing you on how you were going to proceed on the mission, because Bucky was too busy drilling holes with his gaze somewhere else on the Quinjet away from the two of you.

Neither spoke when you descended nor when you approached the base apparently in a state of abandonment.

Bucky's mission were flat and simple, but as usual he had no backup plan, because all his backup plans were the same: run away. Bucky had a chick's sense of survival, that's why when things went bad was the time when he would scream at you the loudest.

Just like it happened on that mission.

“This place is deadly quiet,” you spoke for the first time, barely earning a sidelong glance from the man next to you.

You had already finished thermo-sensor checking every floor of the building and it was indeed desolate. Still, you felt a strange uncomfortable chill run down your back.

“Well, that's what deserted means,” Bucky commented, his sarcasm sharp.

You rolled your eyes at him, even if he couldn't see you, and kept walking with your gun raised as you approached the checkpoint.

“I mean I can't even hear birds or crickets, doesn't that strike you as odd?”

“Well, we're on the fourth floor, wouldn't it make it stranger if you could hear them at this altitude?”

“Well, you can hear at this height. Tell me, do you hear anything down below?”

Bucky paused. They were a few steps away from reaching the room. His deadly stare caused you nothing but boredom and you would have ignored him completely except that he let out a sigh, dejected. You detailed him minutely as he seemed to focus his hearing on external sounds.

“There's nothing,” he spoke after a few seconds, his brow slightly furrowed.

“You see?”

“But that doesn't mean anything. We'd better finish this quickly.”

Ignoring the grimace on your face, Bucky moved to step into the room whose door was wide open. You stared offended at his back and felt the urge to smack his big head with the butt of your gun.

“Here it is,” you heard him exclaim from inside.

Sighing you made your way to where he stood. A large display of old computers anchored to the wall.

“You should do it yourself,” you looked at Bucky with a smirk. “I don't handle equipment this old.”

Bucky only snorted in response and moved with his gun to another side of the room, leaving you in complete silence to do your job.

You moved quietly and sat down in front of the machines. You plugged them into the power source you brought in your suitcase and in a few minutes they began to work.

The mission was simple. There was one of the old HYDRA bases that contained specific information that Fury needed to find. Up to that point, they had searched about seven abandoned bases without any success. So there you were with Bucky, at the eighth base they had identified, digging through old commands and in another language trying to find the information they needed.

Ever since they left the Complex that morning you were convinced you would find nothing. They had already raided several bases and there were still a few more to go. The probability that you would find that information at that time was…

Bingo.

“Got it,” you exclaimed to Bucky.

You heard his hurried footsteps and then felt the warmth of his body next to you.

“Is that it?”

“Just a folder.”

“And why does it load so slowly?”

“It's an old computer, Bucky, it works at its own pace.”

Bucky gave you a sidelong glance. “Wish you understood me like you understand that thing.”

“Aish,” you pouted by way of mockery. “Jealous, Barnes?”

The aforementioned just snorted.

The load was running at forty percent and truth be told, yes, it was too slow. But you could do nothing but wait, there was no way to speed it up.

Bucky paced back and forth behind you and you just watched the green lines move as if that helped at all. But, well, what else could you do?

At one point, as the charge was about to reach eighty percent, you heard interference on your communicators.

“Argh,” you shook your head and raised your hand to move the device a little away until the sound died down. “Steve?”

There was no response.

You turned to look at Bucky, who had the same quizzical expression.

The interference returned and then you heard Steve's voice distorted.

“… of… moment!”

“What the fuck is he saying?”

Bucky remained silent, tapping the device on his ear as if that would fix it.

But you saw it before you heard Steve's voice again.

A clump of people through the window. A freshly loaded cannon.

“Barnes…”

And at that moment, Steve's voice filled them with clarity.

“It's an ambush! Get out of there now!”

The quickness of the impact didn't let you process what was happening. Less than a second after hearing Steve the ground shook beneath your feet. The cracks in the floor started small and then swallowed you apart.

You held onto a beam, barely lucid enough. You propelled yourself upward, swinging your forearms over the patch of ground that was still intact. You heard Bucky's grunts in the distance. He was surely all right.

You heard him call out to you too, but as soon as you could sit down on the ground, the first thing you did was to reach for the pendrive.

Your heart was pounding, so hard it might as well have flown out on its own. Your breathing accelerated, with adrenaline rushing through your body was the only thing you could feel. At that moment you felt capable of anything.

You stood up quickly to look out the window again. The people were gone and the cannon had been destroyed.

It was at that moment that you realized that Steve was still talking on the communicator.

“I'm fine,” you replied, after being able to decipher his words amidst the constant buzzing from the sound of the explosion and the dizziness you felt at the sight of the hole next to you.

“Okay, you're both fine,” the Captain spoke again.

“Y/N, you can get down from there and get to the floor below. I'll catch you.”

At the sound of Bucky's voice, you moved away from the window.

Bucky had landed on the floor below, and yes, from where you were you could jump up and you'd probably have nothing but a cramp.

“How's it going up there?”

“Well, the shields are holding up okay, but I've got poor vision. I think they're regrouping somewhere else.”

You looked around.

Most of the floor had swallowed up the computers, but the main one was still loading the document. You could see the green from where you were. It was at ninety-seven percent.

But it was dangerous to get too close. The pendrive was dangling from the main computer which was about to succumb to the cracked floor.

There was some concrete left in front of the computers that you could walk across, so, without a second thought, you mapped out a mental guidance plan and moved forward.

“Y/N, what the fuck are you doing?”

“I'm getting the pendrive.”

“What? Are you insane? That side of the floor isn't going to support your weight!”

“Yes it will. I know how to do it.”

You started walking all over the remaining edge of the floor in front of what was left of the computers. Small pieces would break off as you passed causing Bucky to hiss.

“Y/N, you'd better stop and get down right now. There's still a risk of them firing again.”

“I'm gonna get it, Barnes.”

“Y/N! Get down, now!”

Ignoring his command, you held onto the remaining wall in front of you as you continued on your way, almost reaching where the pendrive was, about to fall into the abyss.

Ninety-eight percent.

“Y/N!”

“Fucking hell, Barnes, will you shut the fuck up? Your yelling is breaking my concentration.”

“You want me to just stay quiet while you walk to your certain death?”

“I'm not going to dieee- ahh-”

Your left foot, the one in front, wobbled as a piece of the floor came loose. You clung tightly to the wall as best you could, breathing deeply to calm your racing heart. Panicking at that moment wasn't going to do any good.

“God, I can't believe this,” you heard Bucky's voice, muttering to himself. “Now are you really going to get off?”

His voice sounded reprimanding, but agitated. In the midst of that mess, you wondered for a moment if he was really worried.

“I'm almost there.”

You heard him grunt in the distance.

You kept moving your feet in the direction of the main computer, this time more cautiously and more slowly. The floor all along that edge was too cracked, on the verge of falling. You were surprised it had lasted this long.

At that point, Bucky started talking to Steve, but you kept your full concentration on not falling. Maybe Bucky was right and you really didn't have any regard for your life, but…. No, no. You were very sure of what you were doing. You couldn't give up without trying everything. Maybe for Bucky it was too risky, but that was your life. And you knew you could do it.

Ninety-nine.

You had reached the critical point on the ground.

The voices of the two men were becoming too overwhelming, so you quickly took off your communicator and stuffed it in one of your tactical pants pockets.

“What the fuck did you just do?” Bucky exclaimed, a considerable distance away. He wasn't as far away as you thought.

“Your voices are distracting me!”

Good. You were close. Maybe from there you could reach it… if you stretched a little… a little more… a little- Whoop. Nope. You weren't that close. Another chunk of floor fell and with it everything around you shifted. The concrete was so unstable that it tilted further into the abyss after your not at all incredible maneuver.

You had to get even closer.

You had to use plan c.

But for that, the pendrive had to be one hundred percent charged and you weren't sure you could wait for that. Or well, you weren't sure the floor would hold. You had to be quick.

You heard Bucky behind you, but his words were carried away by the wind. You couldn't focus on him because that would be too distracting.

So, arriving at point x, you executed your plan as quickly as possible.

You ran. Even if the world was falling down, you ran. In the direction of the pendrive. The green number didn't change. You took a deep breath. You felt the sparks fly around you. The sound of the ground cracking was going to haunt you in several dreams.

You picked up the pendrive. You would have a few extra seconds as you leaned over and climbed over the computers to gain momentum.

The bing of the computer filled you with a rush of adrenaline.

One hundred percent.

You jumped. You held your breath for a second. Nerves built up in your throat. You felt like you were going to lose consciousness for a minute. Maybe you heard Bucky in the background, you weren't sure, but knowing him he was probably still scolding you.

In the midst of a deep exhalation…

Your feet hit the ground. You rolled. You moved quickly as you turned to see that the ground was still falling. You got up and ran.

You ran until you collided with a solid body. Bucky was shaking your shoulders.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" he exclaimed, his face angry.

You could hear Steve's voice through his communicator because of how close he was.

“Shit.”

He grabbed your arm and you ran again.

Somehow, Bucky managed to get you out of the building as they bombed it again. You had a gunfight the moment you touched the cold snow.

You moved alongside Bucky like a symphony, aiming and firing with your gun until you managed to get away.

When you noticed that you kept going and kept running…

“Where's Steve?”

“If you had your fucking communicator on…”

Bucky grabbed your hand again to keep running.

You quickly reached a shack that looked abandoned and the man next to you wasted no time in letting go of you and running in the direction of what appeared to be a garage. There was a motorcycle.

You reached into your pocket only to realize that the communicator had been destroyed.

And Bucky looked too angry to want to talk.

“Get on.”

He drove all the way into town, but he didn't stop there.

You were on the road for at least about two hours. You had no idea where you were.

Somewhere along that trip, Bucky stopped in front of another abandoned shack and from there he pulled out a car. He set the bike on fire.

You went back on the road, for at least another hour.

Until you reached a small town and Bucky finally stopped in front of a house that didn't look so neglected.

“They destroyed the Quinjet's shields at missile point. Steve had to leave. We'll stay here until I can get through to Fury and we know what to do.”

His voice gave no room for retorts.

Present.

Well, yes, you were a bit reckless during missions, but so what? You got what you needed thanks to your incredible action plans and always came out unscathed. If you didn't do that during missions, how far behind would they be now in their knowledge against the enemy? They would probably be sitting ducks. Bucky didn't see that.

You two didn't talk for much of the afternoon and evening. You had spent it in the living room, trying to avoid the mess he had made to get something to eat and rest. You had perhaps slept for about three hours when you woke up and saw him sitting in one of the dining room chairs. The room looked cleaner than before.

Bucky sighed when he realized you had woken up.

“I'm sorry I yelled at you.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Earlier when we arrived. And for all the mess,” he averted his gaze when you leaned on your forearm to get a better look at him.

“Don't you think it was the least you could do?” quizzical, you sat back on the couch.

“Weren't you the one who said I don't know how to talk like a civilized adult?”

You rolled your eyes at him. “Sometimes.”

“Well, now I want to. That's why I deeply apologize for reacting that way.”

You remained silent, not really knowing how to answer him. On the previous mission you'd had with Bucky, when the whole mess was over and you were quietly in the Quinjet taking it all in, Bucky had only said “you're fucking crazy” to you before exiting the aircraft. There was no scolding, at least not from him, no complaining, no yelling. Just that. And with that you stayed for a week because you never even saw him again.

Despite the number of times you had heard that, you couldn't see it that way. That was your job, that was what you did and you didn't dislike it. You had done it forever, it was basically your way of life and you had always done it excellently. You trained and practiced for situations like that, that's why you were part of SHIELD's risk management team for so long. You used to risk your life like that to save other people and it didn't bother you. Now you were still doing it, also to save people. There was no dark reason behind it. You were contributing to a common good and that was enough.

“I guess I haven't made things bearable for you either,” you admitted with a hint of remorse.

“No, never,” Bucky shook his head in agreement.

“I'm sorry I scared you,” the words slipped from your mouth. You wanted to say something else, but, well, that had to work.

Bucky let out a short laugh. His head jerked in sync, his shoulders loose as if he didn't have a care in the world. For a moment you felt like you were somewhere else; maybe in a living room, some alcoholic beverage in one of your hands as one of your favorite songs played softly in the background, and Bucky. Bucky sitting in front of you, just like that moment.

Wow. What the fuck was that?

“You apologize for my reaction, but not for what you did?” his sly grin was getting on your nerves. You preferred it when he wasn't trying to upset you at the point of smirks. You never thought that was a weapon he could use against you.

Feelings.

Ew.

No, I hate Bucky Barnes. This is unacceptable. Mind, get your shit together.

“Well, I tried to do that earlier and you didn't care. I don't know what you want from me, Barnes,” you turned your head away, nonchalantly playing with your hair to avoid seeing those light eyes again.

“You'd better leave it at that. I couldn't take that knack away from you if I tried for years,” the sigh that accompanied his words reminded you of something you'd thought of when you were in the building. His face still looked calm, but a little upset by the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“Why do you care so much about that?” you asked him directly now that you had the chance.

You looked at him as he turned his head away, his eyes roaming over your face, confused.

“Are you asking me why I care about your life?”

Puzzled, you shrugged. His look almost made you think that was a weird thing to ask, but was it really? “Yes. Well…. You hate me.”

“What? I don't hate you,” Bucky shook his head, his face more contracted than before as if you'd said he had cat ears on his head. He looked almost offended.

And that was the really strange thing.

You mean, almost as long as you'd known Bucky your relationship had been based on fights and demeaning adjectives to each other. That he would say that made even less sense than you asking him why he cared so much about you. He had to be pulling your leg.

“What? But I hate you because you hate me,” you explained vaguely, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. That was one way of putting it; that is to say, Bucky never gave any indication that he didn't hate you. Or well…

“I don't hate you,” Bucky shrugged, his nonchalant expression confusing you that much more. “You're just a little… insufferable sometimes.”

You rolled your eyes. “That's just a synonym for hating.”

“I don't hate you,” he repeated, this time turning to look you in the eye. For a moment you felt like your breath caught in your throat and you were going to choke. “I know we argue and say a lot of things to each other, but… hating is too strong a feeling.”

“Are you really serious?” you shook your head to get the extraneous thoughts out; that wasn't the time to make a discovery, to realize you had lived a lie.

“Yes. And just to make you more sure, I wouldn't mind hanging out with you outside the Complex,” Bucky blurted out, matter-of-factly.

Your head went blank.

“WHAT?”

Several seconds stunned.

Bucky barely cracked a smile at your dumbfounded expression. It sure looked like you'd actually seen cat ears grow on his head. The things he was now saying… they didn't make sense. “You dislike the idea that much?”

“Do you want to not say things so drastically different every moment? You're changing my perception of reality.”

Bucky kept his small smile and you had to swallow hard to ignore the warmth that settled in your chest. It wasn't welcome, not at that moment. The sound of that music in the living room in your head was getting louder, as if your own mind wanted to mock your surprise.

“Well, back to your question,” Bucky moved his hands nonchalantly over his lap and your eyes followed his movement unashamedly, “I don't see why I shouldn't care about your life. We are partners, after all.”

Partners? After all you had been through? Were you partners? Did Bucky believe that?

“Are we?” you didn't try to hide the incredulous tone that accompanied your words, because it already sounded like you'd just stepped through the door into a parallel dimension.

“Sure,” Bucky nodded to emphasize your words and the calm expression on his face became more familiar with each passing second. Could it be that that had always been the reality and you had been deprived of it? “We've known each other for five years.”

“I always thought you hated me…” you mumbled to yourself, looking lost because your head recalling every fight of the last few years, since you met him, every tongue out and every exalted word, but his incredible hearing clearly picked up what you said as if you had murmured it in his ear.

“Surely it was a mistake in communication.”

“Mistake?” you frowned at his reassurance. “You always called me stubborn and childish every chance you got.”

“I thought we were annoying each other. Although, of course,” his face became a little more serious, “there were times when I knew you hated me intensely. You said really hurtful things, what was I supossed to do? That's why I never bothered to talk to you like this. You did hate me.”

“Because I thought you…! Argh.”

Bucky smiled again.

“You're the insufferable one, Barnes.”

You hated the way your head snapped back to that image in the living room, so peaceful and calm, so serene and warm, the moment his barely noticeable smile hit you again. You had barely managed to get those words out of your mouth before you felt yourself running out of breath again.

Were you asthmatic?

And why was your head suddenly filled with platonic thoughts you'd never had before in your life?

What the fuck was happening to you?

“This is the longest civilized conversation we've ever had,” Bucky spoke again, his gaze wandering somewhere in the room.

Yes, that was true. Whenever you talked for this long it was always to argue and say hurtful things to each other. But you were too surprised by everything he had said, because just yesterday he told you that he didn't want to come on this mission with you either and in his eyes you were sure you saw something like what you felt. Something of hatred, when you saw your eyes through his.

Did you just… imagine it all?

Did you think he hated you because you hated him too?

Or maybe you wanted to convince yourself that he hated you. Maybe it was easier to deal with that than with the idea that you…

Oh no.

No, no, no. There's no fucking way that's it.

But then Bucky stood up and with his smug, know-it-all, hateful look, with that sly, evil grin, like he'd always known everything, like he was squirming around enjoying your confused stare, he held out his hand to you and said:

“Shall we fix something to eat?”

Oh, no, you were screwed.

--

a/n: thank u so much for reading!! <3

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fluff #james bucky barnes #stxrvel talks #avengers #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky #james buchanan barnes #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #winter soldier #the winter soldier

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

hello!! can i request a percy jackson x daughter of hermes reader? thanks🎀

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x daughter of hermes! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x daughter of hermes! reader hcs warning: language and very tiny sexual references author's note: fun cuties hcs for our fav ocean boy. also, i am working as hard as i can to open my requests again and i think by monday, you guys should be receiving some very good news ;)

it was a dare

and you NEVER back down from a dare

relatively simple, compared to things you've done in the past (we don't talk about the summer of '05 anymore as to avoid a lawsuit)

pickpocket a child of the big three

nico was immediately crossed off the list as you wanted to survive the dare with minimal injury

jason, hazel, and thalia were currently not at camp, which was disappointing as jason was the obvious choice

so, that left percy

the poor, poor son of poseidon had no idea what was coming his way

"hey, jackson!" you called, a friendly smirk on your face as you bounded up to the boy.

"oh, hey, y/n," percy greeted with a bright grin and what you would like to believe is a blush but you knew better

there was no flipping way that percy jackson liked you, of all people

which is what made your following actions so much harder

without any warning, you grabbed the boy's shoulders and pulled him down to your height, pressing your lips to his cheek, rather close to his lips

a noise of surprise fell from percy's lips, sputtering and turning a similar shade to the strawberries in the nearby fields

sneakily, as always, you fingers expertly danced along his neck and pulled his camp necklace loose, pulling back as you hid it behind your back with a wide smile

"i'll see you around, percy!" you smirked, hoping your face didn't look as hot as it felt, skipping away

percy stood there for probably an hour, still sputtering and trying to understand what just happened

it wasn't until dinner, in which the whole hermes cabin had it's eyes on him, did percy grow suspicious

that's when he saw you, sitting at your table with a wide smile, your fingers toying with your- wait, his camp necklace

he squinted a glare at you, quickly catching on

you shot him a wink and puckered your lips at him

and he was a goner

and so were you, ducking your head as one of your brother's pointed out your blush

once you two start dating, the robbing of percy jackson does not stop

shirts? gone

sweaters? a thing of the past

you even stole a pair of his jeans once

(percy's second favorite thing you've stolen from him as he could see your thong with how baggy they were)

(his first favorite being his heart)

also, you pay him back in pictures

he's not really sure why, but all the children of hermes are extremely good at taking candid pictures

it's a weird niche thing to be good at, but percy loves it

he gets to wake up to what is the most accurate photo he's ever seen of you, laughing with your head slung back and your arms wrapped around percy

it's his fav fr

he also loves the sneaky aura that you just have naturally

sure, kissing you is fun

but kissing behind his cabin with sneaky glances around is a helluva lot more fun

yes, he enjoys grabbing your ass

but, he has so much more fun when it's during capture the flag and he can just feel the ever-knowing eyes of chiron following his every move

percy loves that the way you love, amplifies and endorses the way he loves

actually, he just loves you.

more than he should, more than he ever thought possible

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #pjo #pjo fandom #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson x reader

[patheticgirlsteve]

This is easily the most inconvenient moment possible for Eddie to have a hard-on and yet, here he is, standing in the remains of what used to be the Hawkins Public Library with his dick hard as a rock in his pants.

Eddie had heard tell of a nailbat, rumors of Steve Harrington’s weapon of choice in dealing with matters related to the Upside Down, but it had seemed mythical to him. The way the boys talked about Steve wielding it made him sound like a hero from some ancient mythology.

“You should have seen him, Eddie,” Dustin would grip Eddie’s arm with a grasp that hurt as he regaled Eddie with the tale of Steve in the Junkyard Fighting the Demodogs once more. “He was such a badass, like, so insanely cool!”

Eddie is deeply glad that he was not present at that battle, but there is a part of him that wishes he could have seen it. That he could have seen Steve wield the suburban equivalent of a mace while trying to defend his brood of strange children.

Not that Eddie would ever admit that, of course. He and Steve are tentative friends, and Eddie is not going to risk what progress he and Steve have made in maintaining a civil relationship just because he thinks the guy is hot. Of course he thinks Steve is hot, so does every other breathing human in Hawkins, Indiana.

So, yeah, Eddie is keeping that piece of information to himself. Taking it to his grave. Besides, they’re in the middle of an apocalypse and now is hardly the time for getting horny over Steve Harrington proving competence with a blunt instrument.

But apparently Eddie’s dick never got that memo. Because he’s standing here watching Steve knock those goddamn fucking demobats out of the spore infested Hawkins sky with his infamous bat, dripping with blood and snarling at the monsters. He swings with a terrifying rage in his eyes, laser focused on removing each and every single bat from the sky with a sort of feral grace that shouldn’t be possible.

Eddie watches, pants uncomfortably tight, as Steve makes one final swing at the last bat standing (flying?) with a flourish of his wrist, giving the nailbat a little twirl before using it to strike the last creature down.

Steve Harrington is absolutely unreal.

He turns around to face Eddie and Eddie is reminded that, oh yeah, they’re in the middle of a massive battle right now and he had maybe let himself get a little distracted and wow, the blood dripping through Steve’s chest hair as he tosses the nailbat onto his shoulder with practiceed ease is really doing it for Eddie, which would be fine (well, not fine, but at least somewhat manageable) if it were literally any other moment in time.

“Are you okay?” Steve asks Eddie, voice hoarse and raspy in a way that really shouldn’t be sexy because it’s probably caused by Steve breathing spores and demobat guts or something else equally horrifying, but it is hot and there is something deeply wrong with Eddie.

And maybe there is some single solitary shred of mercy left remaining in the universe, because Steve is seemingly too focused on the war waging around them to clock the bulge in Eddie’s pants.

“Yup!” Eddie nods, feeling like a bobble head in his enthusiasm. “Great! Feeling great! Never better!”

Steve gives him an odd look, considering, but seems to accept Eddie’s assertion that he’s unharmed. He probably just attributes the strange behavior to Eddie’s general weirdness, which is perfectly fine with Eddie.

“Good,” Steve’s eyes drift to the steadily growing dark cloud that obscures much of the red sky. “Let’s get moving then.”

He stomps past Eddie, clapping him on the shoulder as he passes. Eddie closes his eyes and scrapes the corners of his mind for the least sexy thoughts he can summon to will his boner away.

“You coming?” Steve calls back from a few yards behind Eddie.

“Right behind you, big boy,” Eddie says. He takes a deep breath in and out before turning to follow Steve back into the fray.

#um. i can explain. #i was inspired by a post #i wrote a different ending to this that was um. well #but i thought that maybe i shouldn’t post that since i know i have minors following me on here #btw!! #minors dni #ok bye i gotta go do something else now #steddie #steve #eddie #ficlet #my writing #anya.txt

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Danny was having a blast!

Leaving Amity was one of the best choices hes ever made! He spent the last year fighting off what he's come to know as Justice League level threats only for some guy to literally spit in his face as he carried him out of a burning building.

In. his. face.

Danny dropped the guy and ignored his enraged shouts as he continued rescuing the people and animals from the other apartments. Was it wrong to leave that guy there? Probably. Did Danny care? Not anymore. Jazz had graduated early and gone off to an Ivy League collage while Tucker had gotten a scholarship to some fancy private high school and his parents shipped him off somewhat against his will. Tuck, being Sam's counterbalance was sorely missed and Danny was getting more and more fed up with her pushy attitude.

Eventually she said something that set him off and he stormed out of her home. As he walked he realized something. He had Go bags stored all over the city, many of which no one but him knew about and no one would be any wiser if they were to go missing. He had full unrestricted access to all of his parents lab equipment, including the Specter Speeder and had full scale survival training in most terrains thats to Fenton Family Traditions.

He could just...leave. leave and never look back. Heck, he could enter into a new reality all together thanks to his Halfa status and no one would be able to follow him thanks to him being the only one of his kind.

So thats what he did. He didn't exactly thinks this through but he knew if he put it off he would screw it up by overthinking it and getting caught by Sam and guilt tripped into staying.

Next think he knew he was coughing on smog. Yep. This is a big city all right, one Sam would either love thanks to the gothic architecture or hate for the pollution and obvious corruption. Tucker would definitely love it here. The tech in the shop windows looked way more advanced than anything that didn't come from his parents lab.

Speaking of which he needed to find a place to hide the Specter Speeder (he needed a new name for that) he could keep flying it through the city invisibly. He was going to get tired soon.

On the plus side it was easy to phase the speeder and all his stuff into an underground cave that didn't have an entrance yet. It did have an underground waterfall however and Danny was loving it.

It wasn't long before Danny had built an antire jet out of scrap metal he'd stolen from the junk yards and his parents stolen tools. Flying through the city's sky was so much fun. When was the last time he flew a jet even inside an emulator?

Too long.

He heard his radio beep signaling that someone was trying to contact him but he ignored it. Danny took pride in his work and knew he wouldn't be shot down easily, new tech or not. If worst came to worst he could use his ghost powers to bail.

Several more failed attempts to contact him later a larger black jet appeared behind him. Danny grinned, "Let the chase begin."

As it turned out this city was filled with a team of vigilante heros with a bat and bird theme and oh boy, they were good. There were a few times when his jets had been shot down and Danny would have to actually bail. Danny was so impressed that he decided to leave them gifts whenever that happened. That's right.

Danny dropped loot.

The bats still had no idea what he looked like or what he wanted, even going so far as to call him "The Phantom Flyer" which Danny cackled at the irony.

#dp x dc #fanfiction prompts #prompts #danny fenton #danny phantom #batman #dimensional travel #the bats are frustrated but intrigued

[aprilclementine]

teacher!steve, coming into to work so, so, sleepy, bags under his eyes, hair is completely deflated, the biggest thermal he has filled to the brim with coffee, glasses on because he couldn't be bothered to put in contacts.

He couldn't even stand up straight as he greeted his students, yawning as he greeted each student, leaning his entire weight against the door frame, getting a worried look from the English teacher, Nancy, as she caught his eye from down the hall, he gave her a small gesture, and a tired smile, hoping she'd understand it meant they could talk at lunch.

Steve was apologizing for his yawning the entire day, and sure enough come lunch there was rapid knocking just as the last kid had walked out, he was greeted by Nancy, and Robin, the music teacher.

"Steve, you look like death! Nance, you weren't kidding!" The two of them both took seats, in the closest student desks to Steve, who was mumbling out responses as he laid his head on his desk.

"Okay, spiiilllll." Nancy dragged on, drumming against the desk excitedly. Steve sat up, with another yawn, as he took a long sip from his coffee.

"Geez, did Eddie get home from tour, and forget it was a school night, you two must've had fun!" Robin wiggled her eyebrows at Steve, as Nancy giggled behind her hand.

"Ha-Ha, Buckley. But, sort of, NO- Not in the way you two think, get your head out of the gutter, Wheeler!" Steve pointed a stern finger at her, as she gave him a suggestive look. "He greeted me when I got home, we finished our fun pretty early, actually, I was ready to sleep like a baby." Steve recounted, as a blush began to run up his neck, at the thought of Eddie last night.

He cleared his throat as he continued, "Eddie, still jet lagged, got the great idea to invite his old bandmates over, and instead of practicing in the soundproof studio that we recently added, because it "wouldn't be the same, Stevie!", they practiced heavy f-cking metal, until 4 in the morning, in the garage, which is directly under our bedroom.”

The two girls let out laughs, and gave Steve a sympathetic nod. "So, I didn't get a wink of sleep, didn't even have time to pack myself lunch." Steve sighed as he looked at his watch, seeing he wouldn't have enough time to run into town to grab anything either.

The two girls stood, talking at the same time, "I packed some extra lunch," "You can share with me, I can't promise it'll be good, though.”

Steve stood with the girls, nodding along, as they made their way to the door to walk down to the teachers lounge. As Steve opened the classroom door for the girls, he was greeted by none other than the reason for his lack of sleep.

"Hey Sweetheart," Eddie greeted with a sweet smile, Steve groaned playfully, rolling his eyes, as the girls walked past the two of them, whispering to eachother.

"Oh! Don't forget how thin these cheap walls are, Munson!" Robin called over her shoulder, as Nancy let out another laugh. Eddie flipped her off, as he followed closely behind Steve into his classroom.

Steve sat back on his rolling chair, looking up at Eddie as he stood in front of Steve's desk. Eddie swayed back and forth, hands hidden behind his back. "I figured you probably didn't get much sleep last night-"

"Oh really? What gave it away?" Steve scoffed, taking off his round glasses, and setting them to the side.

"Well, you were grumbling all morning and threw all of your discarded outfit choices pretty roughly at my sleeping head today." Eddie listed off. Steve let out a quiet laugh, shaking his head, humming in response. At this, Eddie moved his hands from behind his back, showcasing a brown bag. "So, I thought what better way to repay my honey, than to bring him a greasy lunch full of love."

Steve reached out happily, knowing he couldn't stay grumpy when Eddie was giving him those eyes. Steve began eating, as Eddie moved around Steve's desk, taking a seat on the desk in front of him. He messed with his rings, as he watched Steve hum satisfied as he took his first bite.

"I figured you didn't have time to pack a lunch, and couldn't have you surving on coffee the whole day." Eddie continued, and Steve gave him a fond smile, nodding as he swallowed.

"You saved me from eating whatever leftovers Robin had cooked up, and was going to share with me." Steve laughed, "Last time I ate what she made me, I had to use my precious Sick Days!"

Eddied joined in on the laughter, before hooking his heel around the arm rest of Steves rolling chair, and pulling him closer, so Steve was slotted between Eddies legs, Steve let Eddie pull him, resting his elbows on his thighs, as he continued to eat his burger.

Eddie began combing his fingers through Steves hair, humming along to a instrumental they came up with last night. "Missed you, missed us." Eddie said softly, as Steve finished his burger, throwing the wrapper back in the bag, and moving closer into Eddies touch, snaking his arms around Eddies waist. "Maybe you should've used more of those precious Sick Days, so you coulda stayed in bed with me."

Steve smiled, feeling his cheeks flush. "Couple more days, and then you'll be able to bug me all of Winter break, my love." Eddie sighed, cupping Steve's face, making him look up at him. Steve kept his eyes shut, soft smile on his lips. Eddie kissed both of his eyelids, then his nose, then his cheeks, before placing one lasting kiss on his lips. He pulled away, causing Steve to whine, chasing after his lips. Eddie smiled lovingly, pressing his lips to Steves again.

The two lazily kissed as Eddie sat on Steves desk, until the bell rang, and when Steve stood and tried to pull away, Eddie pulled him closer, bringing Steve's bottom lip into his mouth, Steve giggled, pulling back softly, not being able to fully talk. "Babe- Mph, I- have to open the-mMpH the door."

Eddie shook his head, humming disapprovingly. "Five more minutes", he begged against Steves lips, keeping his arms hooked around Steve’s waist.

"They'll start knocking", Steve protested, once Eddie released his lip, and leaned up to kiss the mole on Steves exposed neck.

"Let them." Eddie mumbled, and Steve realized he wouldn't win this battle, so he stood there, wrapping his arms over Eddies shoulders, as Eddie lazily kissed along his jaw, out of love, not looking to go any further, more of I missed you kind of kisses, because he missed being home, in Steve’s arms.

The knocking started, just as Steve suspected. Only getting louder, as Eddie protested. "Steve! Open up, my sister told me Eddie's here!" Steve could hear Mike yell through the knocking, he sighed, as he pulled away, and went to open the door.

"Michael, we talked about this- It's Mr.Harrington, to you, during school hours!" Steve corrected, Mike rolled his eyes as Steve used his full name. As soon as the door was opened fully, the kids started piling in.

Dustin, and Mike running up to Steve's desk, to bombard Eddie with questions about tour, and if the kids begged Steve to let Eddie talk about tour, instead of prep for their final (Mr.Harrington, this is geography, technically, it would work perfectly! I teach History, Lucas! Are they not the same thing?), no one had to know.

Steve really only gave in, once he finally looked at Eddie (oh, cmon Stevie, you'd get to sit back and rest for a class period). So, Steve sat back, and watched fondly as Eddie talked animatedly to the class, asking Steve to display each city Corroded Coffin played at, as he spoke about it, rating the city on his “Munson Scale”. Was it educational? No. Was it useful information? Also, no. Was it entertaining? Yes.

Steve tried to lay his head on his desk, and get in a quick 30-minute nap, but was too captivated watching his Eddie entertain his students, he couldn't focus on anything, not even feeling tired anymore.

It was as if Eddie had carried the Sun in with him, and brought life back into Steve, and Steve was so thankful to have Eddie back home.

#steddie #steve x eddie #stranger things #eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x steve #nancy wheeler #st eddie munson #steve harrington #steve stranger things #steveddie #fruity four #robin buckley #st nancy #st steve #st steve harrington #st eddie #st robin #st s4 #steddie brainrot #stranger things steve #stranger things eddie #st steddie #steddie fic #steddie blurb #steddie oneshot #st

[ghouljams]

Where You Go, I'll Follow tags: cowboy au, Soap x reader, miscommunication, actually zero communication, fluff, apologies, making up, Soap being the best boyfriend, if you run I'll chase you energy Summary: You're used to this dance: Soap wants to see you so he texts you something stupid, you want to see him so you block him, he comes to see you in person to ask you to talk to him. It's a well worn path, and it works surprisingly well, but only when everyone knows what they're doing. (This fic performed in a closed course by professionals, do not attempt in your own dating life)

You stare at your phone, fingers hovering over the unblock button next to Soap's name. It's been a few hours since your last message, you're sure he's sent more. Usually you wouldn't have to wonder he'd be here pinning you to a wall or swiping some little trinket that forces you to unblock him and demand it back. You lock your phone, squeeze your fingers together, and try not to be upset that he's respecting a boundary.

Maybe he just got busy and couldn't spare the time to chase after you. Which is ridiculous, he shouldn't be chasing after you, and it's good that he isn't. This is good. This was bound to happen eventually when he lost interest so it's good that it's happening on your terms.

Your heart squeezes tight in your chest.

He's been busy before and shown up with mud caking his boots and dirt under his nails. He's shown up still carrying a piglet. Shown up in the wee hours of the morning, shown up late at night, shown up, and shown up, and shown up for you. All because you'd stopped texting him, he took it upon himself to say his words in person. He always has to get the last word in, even after you'd blocked him.

So where is he?

He must be tired of you. Tired of chasing after you when you're such a horrible choice. Not a first choice, not even a second choice, hell you would be hard pressed to be a third choice. It's good that Soap's gotten his little joke out of his system and you can go back to how things were before he started chasing you.

You tug your truck door open and stick the keys in the ignition. You- you don't really have a plan here. You'll figure it out when you see him, you just have to see him. Maybe you'll curse him out for fucking with you for so long(for making you think he cared about you). Goose would probably let you get a few punches in before she intervened, she's a good friend like that. Yeah, you'll figure it out when you get there.

Except you haven't figured out shit by the time you pull up in front of the Price family home. You grip your steering wheel tight and bang your head against it a few times. You should go. You shouldn't have even come here. It's pathetic, chasing after a man that clearly doesn't want you. Have you learned nothing?

You conjure up some anger to cover your upset and storm into the house. Soap, predictably is sitting on the couch chatting with Gaz. He sits up straighter when you slam the door and he makes eye contact with you. You go to stand in front of him, his legs spread wide on either side of you and his face blank. He raises a brow like he doesn't know why you're here. Why are you here?

"You didn't come find me," You frown, squeezing your hands into fists. Your nails dig into your palms. Soap stares up at you. Gaz silently gets up, and heads towards the kitchen.

"You told me to fuck off, only so many times a man can be told no before he gets the point." He tells you. You feel your lip wobble a little, your throat tight looking into his eyes. He feels impossibly far from you, despite you standing between his knees. He looks at you like there's a wall between you, something that you couldn't break down even if you tried. Something in your throat stings, and spiderwebs across your chest.

"You always come find me," Your voice breaks on the small hiccup that signals tears are on their way, and Soap's face falls. His hands rush to hold your hips, thumbs soothing against your shirt, his voice soft as he pulls you closer.

"Oh no, no, hen don't cry," He shushes you as you wipe at your eyes quickly, try to maintain your frown around the wobbly pout that's quickly formed. "Am sorry, am here, you found me," He pulls one of your hands from your face and kisses your fingers, his eyes gentle as he watches you, "Am naw goin' anywhere."

"You always come after me," You press, feeling the dam break as tears fall down your cheeks. Soap makes a soft pained noise, and tugs you down onto his lap, hooking an arm under your legs to settle you more comfortably. He cups your cheek, kisses your forehead.

"Ah know pet, am sorry," His voice feels warmer when you push your face against his shoulder, his hands softer where they touch you, "ah should've come to find ya, ya must've been worried." You hum, and curl your legs towards your chest to fit more of yourself in the circle of his arms. Soap rubs your back, soothing as he murmurs assurances. "You know if you want to see me you can just ask," He whispers against the shell of your ear.

"Cringe," You mumble, your mouth against his throat. He hums, and you enjoy the vibration of it under you lips.

"Just wanted ta offer," You can hear the humor in his voice, the understanding, "Hard askin' for things, eh hen?" You don't bother answering him, you both already know that. You can't invite him over so you do the next best thing, and force him to come find you. He always does.

He always will.

#cod x reader #x reader #x oc #cod x oc #john soap mactavish x reader #john mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #johnny soap mactavish #soap cod #soap mw2 #soap mactavish #soap x reader #oc: moon #cowboy!soap #he's not doing any cowboy-ing though #Gaz getting the fuck outta dodge as soon as Moon shows up lmao #he's not going to be involved #except that he's texting birdie about it in the kitchen #gossips the both of them

[crownofgildedlilies]

feelin' like an absolute fool about it -> cool about it [1]

in which: a son of jupiter can't remember the life he lost to time and circumstance. or the daughter of mercury he lost, too.

pairing: jason grace x daughter of mercury!roman!reader

warnings: angst, angst, and angst. oh and cursing.

word count: 3.3k

a/n: this is a four part fic and im so obsessed with this idea. Jason Grace the man that you are. oh and this follows a nonlinear plot so be warned. lmk if you want to be added to a taglist or wtv!

[one] two three four

"If I have to sit through one more meeting with you making kiss me eyes at the praetor, I'm going to run myself through with my own lance."

"Good morning to you, too, Dakota." You grunted, half amused, half still pissy from the horror show that had been your previous night. "I slept like shit, thanks for asking."

"You're welcome," He didn't miss a beat, pouring more kool-aid than was probably healthy into his cup to drink with breakfast. "Now, man up."

"Real inspiring."

Dakota leveled you with a flat look, and you fought the urge to roll your own eyes. But you knew he would twist the action into your admitting defeat in your impromptu staring contest.

And you were nothing if not a sore loser.

"Admit you want to date the praetor." Dakota demanded, trying to push the conversation along.

On instinct, your gaze darted throughout the dining pavilion, looking for a certain head of blond hair that had yet to make an appearance that morning. And it was then that you knew Dakota meant business, because he didn’t call you out for looking away first.

"Reyna's pretty. Not my type, though." You deflected, stabbing a fork into your breakfast with what was probably more force than necessary. Dakota's eyes widened at the action, briefly, before narrowing at you in suspicion.

"Moving past that comment," He waved his hand in front of him, as if to physically move the conversation along. "Does your current attitude have anything to do with last night's freak thunderstorm?"

Maybe, you would have said, if your mouth didn't suddenly taste so bitter. Still, you winced, and you knew that was enough of an answer for him.

"Oh, come on!" Dakota groaned, pausing only to sip greedily on his kool-aid. You looked on in near amusement, cheek propped up on your fist, waiting for his dramatics to pass. "I finally get my speech all prepared to get you to confess your unending love to Praetor Grace, and you two get in an argument the night before?"

"Pity," You replied dryly, hoping the way you exaggeratedly poked out your bottom lip and knitted your brows together masked the ache in your chest.

"Centurion," Dakota whined, and you wondered how you had gotten so lucky to be promoted to lead the Fifth Cohort alongside him. "What happened?"

Your eyes flashed, shooting him a glare that made him snap his mouth shut.

"Oh-kay." He whistled, sipping his kool-aid some more. Seriously, you needed to figure out how to trick the poor guy into drinking water. "My point still stands. One argument does not change the fact that you guys are in love with each other."

You scoffed, shoveling pancakes in your mouth to avoid answering, head ducked.

Dakota slammed his open palms down on the top of the table so forcefully, almost every head in the pavilion snapped towards him.

"So you admit it!" He accused, grinning wickedly and showing off the red-stained mustache his drink of choice left. You grimaced, swallowing your breakfast to avoid choking. "You do love him!"

"Keep your voice down or I will shove Octavian's entire teddy bear collection down your—"

"Okay!" Dakota interrupted, grinning proudly, as if he hadn't just been threatened. "No need for violence. I was right."

"So is a broken clock twice a day. You're not special." You rolled your eyes, settling stiffly back into your seat. Risking another glance around the mess hall, you still found no sight of the world's most irritating, kind-hearted, moron of a praetor.

Also known as Jason Grace, your best friend.

And as Dakota had just so eloquently uncovered, the guy you've been in love with for years without ever uttering a word about it to him.

"Put me out of my misery, please, and just go talk to the guy, will you?" He begged, like he truly was the one suffering. You glared at him again, but you knew it wasn't fair.

Dakota hadn't been there last night, when you had tried telling Jason how you felt. But the boy was as emotionally oblivious as he was pretty, which was saying a lot.

"Wait," Dakota wiped at his mouth, but the kool-aid stains remained behind. "Did you already—?"

"Centurions," Harper from the Second Cohort appeared at your side, slightly out of breath and eyes wide. You had only ever really spoken to her during Senate meetings, but you were friendly enough.

So you were more than a little confused when she looked at you and took a step back, like she was afraid.

"Everything alright, Harper?" You asked, turning slightly in your seat, mind already running through a million different scenarios of horrible things that could have happened and dragged such a reaction out of Harper.

You had seen the girl take on four sons of Mars before. She wasn't exactly afraid of much.

"He's gone," The words tumbled past her lips before she winced, taking a second step away from you. Face twisted in confusion, you tried to make sense of the vague explanation. "Jason, I mean. He's just—"

Gone.

You were out of your seat before she could finish talking, breakfast long forgotten. The few bites you had managed to swallow felt like lead in the pit of your stomach, weighing you down and making you feel like you were barely moving, even as you raced so fast through camp that even the Lares barely had time to get out of your way.

There was no way Harper was right. Jason couldn't just be—be gone. He was everything a Roman aspired to be; strong, resilient, dedicated.

And maybe you had gotten into an argument, but Broken Clock Dakota was right for the second time that day. One argument didn't mean you stopped loving him.

You have never been so thankful that your father was the god of travelers as your feet pounded on the dirt roads. Sprinting towards the bunk houses, you utilized every ounce of Mercury-blessed speed. Jason had to be there. Or maybe he had snuck off to New Rome to buy you apology flowers, like he had the one time he missed your birthday—you had forgive him easily, as he had been off on a quest he nearly died during.

Heart in your throat, you skidded to a halt outside the small, private bedrooms given to the praetors. You had always teased Jason that his looked like a prison cell, considering his only decorations were books on war strategies used throughout centuries.

But then he had taped up that one gods-awful photo of you and him, both squinting against the sun shining in your faces, and it hadn't seemed so desolate.

"Jason!" You shouted with relief, voice choked up, because the door to his room was open. He never kept his door open, unless you were inside, because he claimed it stopped the other campers from making assumptions about what the two of you were getting up to in his bedroom, alone.

And then you would ask him to explain what he meant by that, trying to hide your grin for as long as you could while he stammered over his words with a blush.

"Jase, they're saying—" You pushed open the door to his room further, voice almost shuddering, and stopped cold when you saw the room's only occupant.

Because it wasn't your blond haired love leaning over the small desk in the corner of the room.

"He didn't show up to our praetor meeting this morning." Reyna's voice was flat, giving you only the facts. You were glad, because if she had spoken with pity, you were certain you would have thrown up.

Jason would be nice about it, but you didn't want to vomit on his carpet.

"That's not like him," You stated dumbly, fingertips vibrating with anxious nerves. Reyna shook her head, and it was then that you realized she had been sifting through the stacks of papers on his desk.

It felt like an intrusion of his privacy, even if it was a necessary precaution. There might have been clues to his whereabouts in those papers. Instead, you were certain they were only his to-do lists, scribbled in his neat handwriting you so adored.

And when she spoke next, you wish you could have plugged your ears and ignored her.

"Centurion, Jason Grace is missing."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours.

And thirty-six minutes.

Jason had been gone for six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-six minutes.

In total, you had slept probably a total of nineteen consecutive hours. Octavian had tried calling for your removal from role of Centurion five times. Reyna had offered you the open position of Praetor twice, behind closed doors.

"It's not available," You had snapped. Fear and exhaustion had turned you bitter. "Jason's coming back."

Six months, one week, four days, nine hours, and thirty-seven minutes.

"You know," Dakota's voice was slightly slurred, already gone on the kool-aid on such a bright summer afternoon. He had found you on the steps of the forum, searching through dozens of letters from retired legionnaires all claiming to not have heard any word about Jason but would keep scouting, and suggested you join him for a walk. "I bet he's out there, fighting for his life to get back here to you."

You shot a glare at Dakota, but kept your mouth shut. Lately, he was the only one of your old friends that could stomach being around you. No one else wanted to subject themselves to your attitude. You were glad to have a friend, even if you didn't act like it.

But you wished Dakota wouldn't talk about Jason fighting for his life.

"Brenda said I could take another eagle out searching today," Your voice had a rasp to it. Rarely used, but never rested. For the first three weeks following Jason's disappearance, you spent each night crying in your bunk, murmuring desperate pleas that your golden boy be returned to you.

And maybe he had never truly been your Jason, but it had felt pretty close.

Finally, Reyna had slipped a key into your palm, disguised as a handshake. The silver key, the one that unlocked Jason's empty praetor room, currently sat on a chain around your neck.

You slept there, now.

No one mentioned your nightly disappearance. You figured everyone was just thankful they didn't have to hear your crying anymore.

"Are you sure you should be flying?" Dakota looked you over with unease, the Little Tiber coming into view on the horizon. You were certain you looked a mess, but what did it matter? You only cared about what Jason thought of you, and Jason never cared about what you wore.

Still, the dark bags of exhaustion under your eyes probably were cause for concern.

"Says you," You countered dismissively, waving a hand towards the flask of kool-aid attached to his belt.

"That's not what I mean," He huffed, defensive. "When's the last time you slept—"

The shouting from the Little Tiber interrupted your conversation. You squinted in the direction of the sound, both surprised and startled to find two massive fists of water raised in the air, a gorgon in each.

At the bank was Hazel Levesque, submerged up to his knees was Frank Zhang, and... controlling the water-fists was a boy you had never seen before.

Without warning Dakota, you took off in a sprint towards the edge of the Little Tiber. You reached the bank just as Frank shot two incredibly well placed arrows at each of the gorgons, turning them to dust and swallowing them downstream.

"Centurion!" Hazel gasped, spotting you approach. Dakota was slowly closing in, muttering curses about children of Mercury and their swiftness. "We found him by the front gates. He was carrying, well, a goddess, so we figured we should let him in."

By the time Hazel finished rambling, both the new boy and Frank had made it ashore. Frank, with his probatio tablet swinging around his neck avoided meeting your eye.

Most people did, lately.

But the newcomer met your stare head on, confidently, if not a little confused. Pursing your lips, something about him set off alarms in your mind.

"What's your name?" You asked, still frowning. You hated being so angry all the time. You missed smiling. You missed your reason for smiling, too, but you had other things to worry about, somehow.

Like the son of Neptune who showed up on your front door.

The boy shifted on his feet, a bronze sword clenched in his tired hands. He looked far worse than you had realized at first, and his voice was exhausted when he answered you.

"Percy Jackson."

"Jason Grace!"

"Careful," He grinned, pointing his sword lazily at you. Your laughter echoed throughout the room, setting the world around the two you singing. "People might think your form is getting sloppy."

"Then they'll think you're a shitty coach," You teased, twirling your own sword as you danced throughout the room, always light on your feet. Jason chuckled, and if you could have bottled up the sound to keep forever, you would have in a heartbeat.

Your favorite moments were when it was just you and Jason, in the training center alone. With curfew fast approaching, everyone else was taking advantage of the two short, sweet free hours before lights out.

"Water break," Jason ordered, flipping his sword gracefully back into the golden coin he always kept in his pocket. You obliged him, slipping wordlessly over to your water bottle on the edge of the mat. "I was serious, earlier. You're dropping your elbows."

"And you're more stiff than a flagpole," You countered, raising a pointed brow at him. Jason gave you a look that screamed 'I don't think so', which was practically an invitation for you to mess with him. "Seriously, Jase, you gotta loosen up."

"I'm loose." He argued, and you let out another loud laugh, the kind that had your head tipping back with the force of your joy. Crossing the room to stand before him, you lifted your chin so that you had a chance at meeting his eye.

I'm loose, he claimed. The thought made you snort, again, as you took in his rigid posture, how even just standing, his arms were crossed over his broad chest.

"Jase," You crooned innocently, settling your left hand on his shoulder, fingers smoothing over the muscle. His reaction was instant, to your excitement. Flush coating his cheeks, his eyes tracking the movement of your hand against him.

Just as you had hoped.

"Baby," You taunted, and he actually choked, burning a bright red as you stepped closer to him, smirk on your lips. "If you're going to talk shit about my elbows, you better get ready to fight back."

Grinning wickedly, you held up the magical golden coin you had lifted from Jason's pocket while he was distracted.

"Give me that," He huffed, eyes rolling and catching your wrist before you could get away. Your laughter fell from you in echoing shrieks, trying to escape Jason as he tried to snatch the coin back.

You stuck out your arm in the opposite direction, trying to hold out as long as you could against him. How rare it was you ever were able to outsmart the great Jason Grace.

He simply pulled you closer, his longer arms stretching out over your body to try and get his coin back. Knees knocking together, your laughters mixed in the air.

By the time his fingers finally wrapped around the golden coin, you could barely breathe. Smiles spread wide over both your faces, you grinned up at him, cheeks albeit a bit flushed.

His arm was wrapped around your middle, holding you flush against his front. And even as he stuffed his coin back into his pocket, he kept his arm wrapped around you tightly.

You weren't going to complain, either, your own hands settling on the tops of his shoulders, toying with the collar of his purple camp shirt.

Gods, you were so in love with him, you felt it in your bones. How was it fair that the powers that be put him in your life, just out of arms reach? And how could Venus despise you so much that she would give you Jason Grace, let him hold you and smile at you, and not have him fall in love with you, too?

He was blinding, golden sunlight, and you just needed to be caught in his rays, however briefly.

"Why do you train so much?" You weren't exactly sure where the question came from, but you were certain it was an important one as you studied the emotions swirling in his sky blue eyes. Confusion, mostly, but also a hint of something so similar to admiration it made your skin feel flushed.

"We're soldiers." He reasoned, ever the level-headed Roman. And you loved him for it, really, but you loved him more than the Roman traits.

"Do we have to be, all the time?" You hated how desperate your voice sounded, and you hated Jason for making you ask.

"What else is there for us?" His counter argument was like he hit the panic button in your mind. And maybe if you had more time to think about how to best react, you would have slowed down and talked him through a life beyond the military prowess he had been practically conditioned to think was the only life for him.

But you didn't have time, and you could barely think, so all you did was pull away from his hold.

"Forget it." You mumbled, not entirely sure if you intended for him to hear. It wasn't his fault, you distantly reasoned, he didn't know any better. Raised by wolves then sent to Camp Jupiter? He had no chance at seeing any sort of life beyond battlefield glory.

But you weren't the daughter of reason. Your father was the god of thieves, and your emotions stole the moment from your fingertips.

"Hold on," Jason urged, taking a step towards you as you backed away, mumbling some excuse about needing more water. "Did I do something wrong?"

"Never, Jase." You nodded solemnly, your frown never once leaving your lips as you twisted back around to face him. "And maybe that's the problem."

I want you to break regulation and kiss the daylights out of me, you wanted to scream.

"I don't understand." He shook his head, open palms splayed up towards the sky, like he was pleading with you or the gods to explain to him.

You laughed once more, but this time, it echoed coldly in the empty training room. Gone was the sunshine smiled you wore, as if it had fallen behind the horizon as the real sun set over your head.

Bitterness twisted your heart, firing unfamiliar cruelty through your gaze, pinned on Jason. He almost flinched at the look on your face.

I don't understand, he had claimed. He didn't understand just how much you ached for him, praetor or not. Roman or mortal, you wanted him.

But he was a soldier, first. And maybe he was a soldier, only.

"Maybe that's the problem."

He called your name, but you were already out the door, letting the metal slam shut behind you.

You weren't enough of a fool to pretend to not see the lightning strike the roof of the training center, ruining the perfectly clear skies from only moments before. The only proof of Jason's frustration he would let the world see, you knew.

The only proof that maybe he ached the same way as you.

That night, you didn't sleep. Your poor bunkmates, listening to you twist and turn and try and get comfortable when it felt like knives were piercing your insides. Acid burned your tongue, cursing the appendage for ever trying to broach the subject about being more than soldiers to the other with Jason.

The next morning, you walked into breakfast, determined to avoid talking to Jason for at least a few hours.

Oh, what a mistake that wish was.

#jason grace #jason grace x reader #jason grace x you #jason grace x y/n #jason grace fanfic #pjo #rays of sun #sunnie writes

[chrysalind]

last chance

pairing: kuroo tetsurou/reader wc: 860 tags: pre-relationship, fluff, high school setting (third year), bad flirting, kuroo is really trying

"What'd you get for number 8?" Kuroo asks as he leans over you.

"Umm," you tilt your head and the golden light of the late afternoon sun flickers across your cheek. "I think I put down 1868 to 1912."

"Wait, seriously?" He claps his hand on his forehead. That's five questions he's probably got wrong now, not to mention he'd barely finished writing his second essay, meaning the maximum possible grade he could get is...

"I hate history," he grumbles, trying to redirect his train of thought from its depressing destination. "I'm never taking it in university."

You sigh ruefully. "I feel the same way about chemistry. The moment I walked out of yesterday's exam, every piece of knowledge about thermodynamics just—" you wave your hand near your temple, "—vanished."

"Bet you're glad I gave you my notes though, right?"

The train doors slide open and a crowd of students from another school shuffle in. His legs brush against yours as he tries to make more room around him.

"Only because I gave you my English notes," you counter dryly, moving your bookbag onto your lap as a freckled teen slides into the seat beside you. The small plastic Keroppi charm on its side swings erratically against your thigh.

"A more than fair trade," he reasons. "Especially since I was getting the highest mark in chem, while you were just below Takaichi in English."

"Takaichi's mom is from New Zealand," you reply, with a roll of your eyes. "He's been practically fluent since he was born. Plus, your handwriting sucks, so you get points taken off for that."

Kuroo snorts, but has no choice but to concede. After all, he can barely read his own notebooks from last semester.

He watches as the Tokyo cityscape rushes past, still thrumming with life, even as the sun dips low in the sky. It's hard to imagine an afternoon where he won't be packed into the subway at this time, with his loosened Nekoma uniform tie around his collar, and your occasional company on the afternoons he's able to catch you at the school entrance.

His short spell of mourning is interrupted by the announcer as the train pulls into a familiar station. You both exit onto the platform and make a beeline towards the escalators.

"I'm not staying in Tokyo," he says, as you're halfway through the barriers.

Keroppi's face smacks against your zipper as you pause. "Oh?"

"I'm going to Osaka," he continues, weaving through the crowd. You fall into step beside him and there's a second in which Kuroo thinks he's vastly overestimated his importance in your life.

"That's..." He watches as a crease forms between your brows. "I thought you were going to Tokodai."

"Nah," he says, re-adjusting the strap of his bag. "I think it'd be good to gain some independence, you know?"

"Right," you say, tucking your Suica away. The sound of the city fills in the quiet that follows as you step out of the station.

Truthfully, Kuroo had been hoping for something—anything—more than the pensive silence that now settles between the two of you as you both walk the last few blocks of your high school era. But as you round the corner, the weight of the moment only grows heavier.

From his peripheral vision, he can tell you're sulking with your lips turned down in a pout that you probably aren't even aware of. And even though you've never admitted it to anyone, he's not oblivious to the way you can barely hold his gaze for more than two seconds, or how you linger at the intersection when you part ways.

"You know," he says, as you both stand before a crosswalk, "this is probably your last chance."

Your eyes flash up at him.

"What do you mean?"

He straightens up.

"Your last chance to admit that you're in love with me," he blurts. He had meant for it to come out a bit smoother, maybe aiming for a kind of teasing tone, but something had gone horribly wrong in the last second. Embarrassingly, he feels his own cheeks grow hot at the boldness of his declaration.

The crosswalk indicator changes, but you're both frozen in place.

You blink, looking absolutely bewildered, and he begins to fear that he's broken you.

And then an odd sound emerges from your mouth—a short snicker, followed by an open burst of laughter. Your giggle seems to carry over the noise of the traffic around you and Kuroo tries very hard not to die right then and there.

Instead, he forces himself to laugh along. How could he have miscalculated so bad?

He's sure he'll remember this moment for many sleepless nights ahead.

"Don't worry," you say later with the world's most bemused smile, as you near his building. "It's not my last chance."

Kuroo works up the courage to look you in the eye.

"After all, I still have our graduation ceremony."

#haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #from: linde

[carolmunson]

agitated from the shadows, can i take it all back? (older!modern!eddie)

part seven of however many. orange colored sky set list summary: things simmer in the summer, and as it comes closer to a close, whatever is lying beneath comes to the surface. and it's more than eddie bargained for.

tw: 18+ minors dni. this series is about an age gap relationship (reader is in late 20s/early 30s, eddie is in late 30s early 40s. they're around 12 years apart), arguing/yelling, references to drug use, references to smut, references to domestic violence. songspiration: episode | gallant (this is one of my favorite songs of all time so i recommend listening)

Eddie was always a little sad when Steve left after visiting, but his heart was beating fast in his chest when he hugged him goodbye. Getting Harrington's seal of approval was all he needed to hear. "Keep her around Munson. She's special, you're not gonna top her." "Oh Steve, my guy..." "I'm topping her all the time."

He couln't help the swell in his chest when you both first met, like you'd known each other for years without trying. He even got a little jealous when the night's you'd stayed over, Steve would spend his time deep in conversation with you. You'd trudge upstairs long after Ed had gone to sleep, learning more about him through Steve than he'd told you himself. You guess Steve would know better than anyone else.

You tried to make yourself scarce though, leaving them to their own devices. You knew they had traditions and plans, they spent a couple days out in the Hamptons to say high to another friend. And that was fine, you had other things to catch up on. Work, bills, the world around you that wasn't in a haze of Eddie Munson. You had to cancel a night to see him play at Rockwood Music Hall with Steve when you were too hung over from a birthday party. You hadn't seen that group of friends since college -- it would be stupid to sit at home just because the guy you were seeing was busy. He wasn't even your boyfriend. After a fortnight of semi seeing each other for finally had a night alone. He treated you to drinks at a bar between your respective places. The night was humid, air thick while you both sat otuside sipping your final glasses of wine and stealing bites off each other's plates. You decide to walk back to his place, following the walkway next to the bypass through central Brooklyn. You split a cigarette, talking about the rest of his trip -- you talk about work and the dramatic break up of two of your friends. He lives for the gossip.

He lights another cigarette while you both turn down the top of the street from the parkway. Right at the rotary where you both got caught in the rain on your first date. The street is pretty bare outside of a few cars coming down and around, families normally don't like to hang out too late. All the restauarants were closed for the night. The orangey streetlights glow over the sidewalk, competing with the lighting from the grocery store's red and blue signage, the neons from darkened bakeries and bars. You peer into the windows of apartments that are too high above you for anything discernable outside of a plant or nice light fixture.

"Oh," he starts, letting the smoke out from his first drag, "How was your friend's party? All I heard about was your hang over."

You smile to yourself, "It was fun, got a little too fucked up -- which you heard all about -- but I had a good time. Probably shouldn't have gotten so drunk and then tried coke for funsies -- that was a choice."

"Hm?" he asks, his brows raise while his head turns towards you fast, "What was that?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you? Yeah, I tried coke," your voice is casual when you tell him, like it's not a big deal. You shrug and your nose scrunches, "Probably don't see myself doing it again though."

"Probably don't?" he asks, nodding slowly while you both make your way further down the street to his apartment. He pulls another drag, letting the smoke out before tucking his lips into his teeth.

"Yeah I just -- I dunno," you shrug, "Didn't really love it. It was whatever."

"Y'shouldn't be doin' that shit, peach," he mumbles, "'Specially if I'm not around."

Your brows quirk when he flicks the finished cigarette into the street, "Excuse me?"

"Just..." he sighs, eyes rolling while he considers whether it's worth the fight, "Forget it. S'fine." You're both silent while you make it up the stairs to his apartment, he seems unenthusiastic about you being here this time around. Deflated. You both kick off your shoes at the doorway before heading inside, putting your bag on the entry way table behind the bowl where he puts his keys and wallet. He pulls off his shirt while making his way to the metal spiral staircase, not even tossing you a glance while he heads upstairs. "You comin' back down?" you ask, wondering if you should follow. "Mhm," he nods, "Just changin', gonna shower."

"Can I..." but you trail off, not wanting to invite yourself -- uncomfortable in the silence. In the way he doesn't look at you, in the way he feels far away. The sound of the bathroom door closing puts a weight in your belly, your heart thrums, heat rises on the back of your neck. You settle in on the couch, the steady hum from the central air makes your eyelids heavy -- it was already a late night. You scroll on your phone, listening while the water hits the shower floor up stairs, wishing he'd invited you up. You feel sticky from the heat outside, from the bar air, from the beer someone spilled on your legs. Maybe you should just go. He appears at the top of the stairs when you open the Uber app, clearing his throat to get your attention. He's there in his sweats again, shirtless, tattoos shining under a layer of lotion rubbed into his skin. He tied his hair up, curly wet bun sloppily piled on top of his head, bangs fuzzily drying over his forehead.

"You can hop in if you want," he says, making his way down, "I left a towel by the sink for you. I um, I got that facewash you like -- that one you told me about. It's in the shower already, next to your loofah."

"Oh," your heart flutters a little, voice still meek and quiet. He still doesn't look at you. You exit the app, clicking your phone to sleep before standing up to make it to the stairs, "Thanks...thank you." He shrugs his shoulders when he looks over at you as if to say 'don't mention it'. He barely looks at you when you head up stairs, busying himself by filling up a silver REI canteen by the sink.

He did leave a towel, as well as a change of clothes. At least you knew he wanted you to spend the night. It's not like he'd let you leave the house this late anyway, you roll your eyes at yourself when you think about booking an Uber moments before.

You take your time, letting the hot water pour over you and calm your tense shoulders. Washing away the stickiness in your chest and on your skin. You scrub your face of any remaining makeup that had melted off on the walk home -- happy to not be using whatever random cleanser he got, trying to pretend he knew anything about skin care before you came along.

Some time had passed by the time you finished, padding down the stairs to see he’d pulled on a shirt. His hair hung in frizzy curls down to his collarbone again, drops of water during the worn black fabric blacker. He’s still in the kitchen, emptying the dishwasher with tight shoulders and furrowed brows like he’s thinking about something. “Thanks for the jammies,” you chirp, sitting at the island on your designated barstool. “Yup,” he says, not turning to see you – very interested in the glassware he’s holding instead. Your shoulders droop with how curt he’s being, not used to this sort of standoffish attitude. He didn’t even get this miffed when you shrugged off his suggestion to watch Lord of the Rings and sided with Steve to watch Almost Famous. You hadn’t seen it in years. 

“You okay?” you ask, his shoulders tense. “Yeah baby, I’m okay,” he says, but he shuts the dishwasher a little too hard for that to be true. 

“You don’t seem okay.” 

“I’m fine.” 

“Is this about the party?”

“I said I’m fine, peach,” he repeats. 

“I mean, it’s just a party Ed, it’s like – people go to parties –” 

“I said I’m fine.” He looks at you for the first time since you got in the house. It’s pointed, accusatory, and as much as you wish it didn’t, you immediately get defensive. 

“Wait -– ” you let out a bitter laugh, “Are you mad about the coke? Seriously?” 

“Drop it,” he says lowly, “Let’s not –” 

“Are you seriously upset because I did coke at a party and you weren’t there?” you’re incredulous, “You? Eddie ‘Can’t Remember Berlin’ Munson?” 

“Stop, just forget it–” 

“No, let’s not stop – let’s not drop it. What’s your problem with me going out and enjoying myself? You mad I’m having fun without you?”  “It’s not about you going out and enjoying yourself. That’s not what it is.”

“Then what is it? What is it about me going to that party that’s got you so pissed off?” "'Cause I don't like that -- I don't like hearing that you're out getting sloppy at parties. I don't like hearing that you're trying new shit just for fun when you're by yourself," his gaze is hard while he leans over the island, chain dangling down from his neck. "I'm not by myself, I'm with my friends," you argue back, "Jesus Christ, Ed, I'm almost thirty years old."

"Coulda fuckin' fooled me," he snaps.

"Oh I forgot, you know everything. You've been there, done that. You know so much better than me, don't you?" your sarcasm makes him bite his tongue, anger teasing down his back in a blaze. Eddie hates that he has a short fuse -- he doesn't want to have one with you.

"Who'd you even get it from?" he asks, "Did you know 'em? Did you know if it was clean? Did they test it?" "Do you always know where your drugs are coming from?" you counter back. "Yeah, peach," he says with a nod, "I fucking do. I always know. God, it's like you think you're fuckin' invincible or some shit. I swear --" "I know who I got it from, it was clean -- the guy's loaded," you explain, face hot with frustration, "Can't imagine he's out there passing out fake stuff." The guy's loaded. So it was a guy -- Ed feels sick in a way that he hasn't in years. What was some guy doing telling you to try his shit? How drunk were you? Did you think he was cute? Rich guy? Did he try to pull one over on you? "How much did you pay for it?" he asks, crossing his arms. "What?"

"I wanna know if this guy scammed you, how much did you pay?"

"I didn't," you shrug. Eddie gets quiet, jaw clenching when you mention you got drugs on the house. He only knows one way that that's possible and it makes a rage in him bubble that he tries so hard to contain. His tongue runs over his teeth, trying to choose his words carefully. "You didn't pay for it?" he asks, the question clipped and tight. "No," you shrug innocently. "Did you fuck 'im?" "Wh-what?" the question punches out of you in shock. Why would he ever ask that? Why would he ever assume that? "You heard what I said," he bites, "Did. You. Fuck. Him?"

"No, I didn't fuck him," you hiss back angrily, "Why would you ever ask me that?"

"Can't think of another way to get drugs for free," he challenges back, "Did'ja suck him off? You're always tellin' me how good you are at it -- did you give him a fuckin' show?"

"What the actual fuck is wrong with you?" you get up off the barstool, posture matching his with your arms crossed tight around your chest.

"I'm just asking you a question," he repeats, his shoulders raising up and down in big breaths. "And I answered -- I didn't fuck him for free drugs," your head ticks to the side, "Sorry, not all of us have read the Eddie Munson doctrine."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm just saying that I didn't do what you would've done." Your smart smirk when you finish your sentence makes him dig his nails into his biceps, a reminder to keep his hands to himself -- to calm down. This isn't about the drugs or the guy that gave them to you -- but he doesn't like that this is how you see him. Someone whose reckless and careless, someone who uses people to get what he wants. "Who do you think you are?" he snaps, "Huh? You don't know what you're talking about."

"If the first thing you think when I say I got drugs for free is that I fucked for them, then it's pretty clear that's how you go about your own business. How many people have you fucked for drugs?" you ask, "Actually, a better question would probably be how many people have fucked you for them?" "You told me you used to deal -- so c'mon loverboy, how many women did you have fuck you for drugs? If that's how to do it." Eddie shakes his head, eyes shut and jaw tense, taking a shaky deep breath through his nose and out through his mouth, "I never had anyone fuck me for drugs."

"So why would I have done it? Why do you always assume I'm doing something wrong? Why do you always expect me to act like I know what you know all the time? And better yet -- why does it even FUCKING matter?!" your voice grows higher and louder with each question, watching him get more and more frustrated while you continue, "Why does it even matter when you don't commit anyway? Maybe you're fucking around!" "I'm not -- ugh -- I'm not fucking around, peach!" he snaps back, chucking his water bottle hard into the sink with a loud clang. "Nice, Ed," you nod, arms crossing tighter around you, "Real nice -- what, you gonna hit me? That what's next on your list? Really put me in my place? Sounds so fucking familiar, I wonder where I heard it bef--" "SHUT UP." His voice booms through the kitchen, making you flinch. "Don't you EVER say that shit to me," he bellows, finger pointing directly in your face from across the island, "Don't you EVER make that comparison." You stand there, chewing on the inside of your cheek while he yells. "Do you feel better?!" he asks, voice hoarse and deep, graveled with anger, "Do you feel better now, peach?! Did that help?! Do you feel fuckin' validated?" He watches you shake your head no, tears starting to pool in your eyes. They look up at him, glassy and wet, threatening to spill over onto your cheeks. He takes a deep breath, chest sinking when he sees the way you look at him -- silenced and quiet now, because he scared you. Because he's scary -- and that's why he shouldn't be with anyone, that's why it's too much to feel this way about someone. You wipe at your cheeks when the tears spill out, a few whimpers coming from you when you start to cry from how he yelled. From how you don't really know what you're both fighting about, but you both really know and it's terrifying. "Don't -- no baby, I'm sorry, don't cry," he says, his own breath shuddering, "I didn't mean to yell, I'm sorry. I won't -- I won't ever raise my voice at you like that." He rounds the corner of the island, coming to meet you on the other side with extended arms. His hands find their way to your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears gathering at your lash line, "I'm so sorry, I won't ever yell like that again. I promise. I -- I'm -- there's no excuse for that." He leans forward to leave a soft kiss on your forehead and the tip of your nose, "I'm sorry."

"That's - sniffle - not what I need you t-to be sorry f-for," you stutter out. He frowns back at you and nods. "I -- peach I just get worried, that's all," he confesses, "I don't really think you went and slept with that guy I just --"

He swallows, thinking about the words he wants to say. His hands drop from your cheeks to pull you in to him. He settles on the barstool, pulling you close to stand between his legs like he has before. "I don't wanna not hear from you for a week only to like, get a text or call from your sister that something bad happened," he says, his dark brown eyes getting as glassy as yours the more he thinks about it. "I know you're an adult, I know you can take care of yourself and that you're safe," he assures, "I promise, I know. I'm just scared." "What're you scared of?" you ask. "Losin' you," he shrugs, "To y'know, addiction or whatever -- or worse. I don't wanna lose you -- I really like having you around. Your -- you've added so much to my life in such a short period of time and I -- I don't know, peach. I think since Steve's wife I just -- It's something I think about." "You being scared doesn't give you the right to accuse me of sleeping around," your face hasn't softened at his explanation, not letting him get away with being an asshole. He likes that about you -- you don't take his shit, "It doesn't give you the right to talk down to me like I don't know what the fuck I'm doing."

"I know," he nods, "That was unfair." "I think you're just trying to find reasons to make me seem not worth it," you let out without waiver, "Even if you have to make them up."

"No," his brows furrow, "No, you're so worth it. Why would you say that?" "You were so quick to accuse me of some wild shit," you scoff, "It's like you're trying to fight with yourself about it. About how you feel and like -- maybe that lady from the bar a while ago was right. Maybe I have been just for fun for you. You got to play house with me, you got to see what a relationship is like for fun and now you can ruin it cause you're over it. Or you're bored." "No -- " he starts, heart thrumming in his chest, throat getting tight, "Peach that's not it at al--" "It seems like it --" "Did you not just hear what I said about losing y--" "I don't wanna hear it, it's just bullsh--" "Baby, I'm trying to be honest with y--" "This is starting to feel like a shitty game that you're trying t--" "I love you." You stop talking at the slight raise in his voice, the weight of the sentence hanging over the both of you in the kitchen. "God peach, I -- I fucking love you. I'm in love with you," he breathes, like he's fully realizing it for himself, too, "I...shit, I think about you all the time. I go to sleep excited cause I know m'gonna see you the next day I...Jesus babe, I -- I love you." Your lower lip wobbles again, "Yeah?" "Yeah," he nods, sighing weakly, "I knew when we got you your glasses. I knew -- I think I knew from the start. And I'm scared cause I -- I don't love people like this a lot." "Just Steve," you sniffle with a watery laugh. He lets out a chuckle, reaching out to pull you close to him by the waist. "Steve's different," he shrugs, "M'never gonna love anyone like Steve."

"I'm sorry for what I said," he reaches up again, running the pad of his thumb over your lower lip, "I'm sorry for yelling." "I'm sorry, too," you match him, hand reaching up to run your fingers through his bangs, pushing them away from his forehead to kiss it. His eyes shut closed at the soft touch, feeling you step close to him while his face rests on your chest. "I..that was fucked up of me to bring up your dad," you shake your head, "I was just angry I -- I'm so sorry." "It's okay," he mumbles, wrapping his arms around you. He rests his chin on your breasts, looking up at you, "I -- I've done a lot of work to not end up like him. Sometimes it still gets the better of me." "But I need you to know something," his face is soft but serious, "I will never put my hands on you, ever." "Okay," you nod, giving him another kiss on the bridge of his nose. "Only if you ask," he smirks, "Only if you want me to. If we're doing that." You both giggle in that way that couples do when they're being gross, holding each other on the barstool. Silence carries over you when the giggle runs out, both of you exhausted from the night -- from fighting. "I love you, too," you whisper down to him. "Thank god, cause I was really nervous that I just sort of let it all out there for nothing," he whispers back. He stands up, still wrapped up in you, offering you gentle kisses. He holds you there for a minute, you hold each other -- he realizes how tender he is with you. How you pull all of this tenderness out of him. "You're my girl, right?" he asks into the top of your head. You nod into his chest, his hand reaching up to caress over your hair. "Are you mine?" you ask into his shirt. "Yeah," he smirks into a low laugh, "Yeah, I'm your girl." "Can we go to bed?" sleepiness coats the question, a neediness lacing your voice. "Mhm." He leads you up the stairs, calling to his Google home to turn the lights off when you both make it to the top. He got a new candle for his room, something with oud in it. Woody, deep, musky. Ahead of the season. You slip into bed at the same time, leaving your phone on the side table while he slips his glasses on to check something on his. You watch him with his bedside lamp illuminating him from behind. It catches on the frizz in his wavy curls, tied up in ponytail. It bleeds over the slop of his nose and the whites of his eyes. He catches you when he puts his phone to the side, smiling. "What're you lookin' at?" he asks, slipping his glasses off and click out the light. "You just look handsome," you shrug. He murmurs a thank you before dipping down to kiss you when he slides under the covers. For the first time in forever he doesn't want to have sex after a fight -- it almost feels cheap. Like it's a cover -- like he's not really sorry, like he didn't mean all the things he said. "Night, pretty." He pulls you into him when you settle in, your back pressed up against his chest, "I love you." "I love you," you say back, eyes closed, encased in his arms. He's never held someone so tight to him. Not since Chicago.

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#eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst #older!eddie #older!eddie munson #stranger things au #stranger things #stranger things fan fiction #stranger things fanfic

[granblue-advisor]

Game Tips: 10th Birthday Trades

The yearly tradition of picking a free weapon to add to your collection has returned. This year we get a total of 3 picks instead of the traditional one, so it's a great time to pick up some tools you've been slacking on.

In this post I'll break down the various weapon series you can claim and give you some ideas for which are worth it.

I'll be listing only the ones that are harder to get, as in my opinion, you get the most value from the skip by not having to farm, rather than the weapon being the best.

At the end of the day, if a weapon is incredible but also easy to farm, you might as well just go get it rather than waste your precious skip tickets on it, right?

For info on how to farm weapons, see this post.

When picking weapons, check the Advanced Grids page on the wiki for the respective element for what uses they see before making a choice. You can also reference my What to Farm guide for my personal breakdowns. I'll be offering a lot of choices here, and which one(s) are best for you will fully depend on what you currently have.

You have an entire year to make your pick here, so if nothing strikes your fancy, you can just hold onto the ticket until you find yourself in a pinch missing something.

Worth noting that Magna 3 will be coming out soon, so the usability of any given weapons may heavily fluctuate. It's up to you to decide whether you want an immediate upgrade or to hold off on future changes.

Regalia Weapons

For Regalia weapons, it may be worth getting the "M2.5" type weapons. These are weapons that were added to the respective drop pools several years after the original M2 release, and have a much lower drop rate (they also are not affected by purple chest campaigns).

All other Regalia weapons are trivial to farm with minimal time commitment and should not be considered unless you have no better picks.

This denomination encompasses the following weapons:

Nilakantha (Fire)

Spirit of Mana (Water)

Godsworn Edge (Earth)

Coruscant Crozier (Wind)

Pillar of Flame (Light)

Zechariah (Dark)

Ancestral Weapons

Ancestral weapons still see a reasonable amount of use in grids these days, making them a decent "B-tier" pick. It's worth noting these do not come with any AX attached, so they're going to be weaker than the ones from the raids. Should you get an AX one after, you can apply it to the fully uncapped weapon, so it's not a huge deal.

Low priority but can be okay if you really need one now and don't have the ability to farm them immediately. Not personally recommended but you can defintely get a lot worse.

Malice Weapons

Colomba is a decent slot filler that is entirely superseded by Schrodinger. If you're low rank and find yourself playing charge attack based water setups, it's Okay. Not my ideal recommendation but it can help fill a slot if, once again, you got nothing else you're eyeing.

Obs: Majestas is essentially useless these days outside of incredibly niche usability in high end raids. Chances are if you're at a point you'd even consider using a Majestas in the first place, you already have several. Don't pick.

Menace Weapons

Agonize is still good. Yes, you absolutely can just grab two copies of it here and never have to touch the raid again.

Agonize is absolutely not a must-have for every setup as it was on release, but it's still a fantastic pick if you find yourself running any skill damage based compositions. Probably one of the most popular picks in here overall and for good reason.

None of the other Menace Weapons see any amount of use you'd ever want to trade for.

Fenrir/Cerberus Weapons

Honorable mention here to Cerberus Order as it's seeing some high-end use in Dark Rapture Zero.

Chances are if you're reading this and this usecase matters to you, you either already have one, or were already in the process of making one. Do not buy, I just thought it was an interesting nod.

Don't get Fimbul either, you can make one for free with pendants if you really need it.

Do Not Pick

Do not pick weapons in the following series:

Xeno

Primal

Olden Primal

Epic

These do not come with AX skills (when applicable) and are trivial to farm indefinitely due to being endlessly repeatable free quests. Not recommended.

Ennead Weapons

These come at level 1 awakening, meaning you still have to go farm the bosses for more anima to actually get them to a useable state. Chances are by the time you get enough anima you got several dupes already.

Proven Weapons

Proven weapons before 5-star with awakening have been rendered entirely useless these days. As these do not come with materials to uncap, and you can't get the materials to uncap outside of the event, they're essentially dud picks.

Six Dragons Trade Ticket

Warning: This ticket expires April 10th. Make sure to claim it in time.

Don't claim this until the last day as you can dupe the one you pick on Roulette.

Afterwards, either pick one you don't have already if you wish to strengthen another element or pick one for your main.

These are essentially useless for magna aside from their call, and they can be suptixed, so the value and commitment is low. Not much to say here.

(edit, thank you Ittousei for pointing this out) Wilnas and Fediel's calls can one-shot the Campaign Exclusive Quest by themselves at 0-star. This is a useful niche to have if you're a new player with no good way to handle grinding that yet and don't have any other preference here.

Superlative Weapon Trade Ticket

Warning: This ticket expires April 10th. Make sure to claim it in time.

Toughie.

I'm going to preface by saying Superlative Weapons are, in 99.9% of situations, dead. They've been buried hard by power creep over the years, and the final nail in the coffin was the release of Illustrious. Even farmable weapons often clear them in many places.

I'm going to tell you which uses they currently see right now, but I think you'll notice the pattern that all of them are very high end. These are weapons you use as a "cherry on top" of an already busted grid. Trying to force one of these on a grid that sucks will likely make it suck more, to be frank.

Similarly to the Six Dragons ticket, I also recommend waiting on the last day, as the value of the picks here may alter based on new content or roulette pulls.

Chances are most of the following suggestions don't apply to you, and I don't believe any one beyond these is "worth it", so if you have no legitimate usecases, pick the one you think you'd have the most fun with.

Excalibur

Lyria wasn't kidding, this is a good deal - at least within this context. All six Excaliburs see some use.

The Light one sees use as it provides the highest available Bonus Damage on CA for Relic Buster, and it was used in the fastest setups last Light advantage Guild War. Pick if you're a Florence gamer and only for GW.

All 5 other Excaliburs see use in Chrysaor setups in Hexachromatic Hierarch. Hexa has "Deal 2m Damage Hits X Times" omens, which are easily broken by Excalbur when using Deuce Xiphos, as you can auto attack for 4 million. This requires a very high end setup, and is a binary check (either you hit 2m or you don't).

Dark Excalibur also sees some use in Full Auto Cosmos, once again with very strong grids. This setup is unstable and doesn't always hit blue chest.

Hercules

Do not listen to Lyria, she is LYING to you. This weapon is way past its prime and absolutely buried for any relevant content. Fun weapon, would not recommend as a strong pick to anyone, ever.

Gae Bulg

Its damage cap up doesn't stack with any other, making it immediately useless on any good grids. Also, crit is falling off. Don't.

Damascus Knife

The third skill on Dama Knife is interesting for some incredibly niche setups that absolutely want the echo for Hits omens. I saw an insane Dark Rapture Zero grid with it the other day.

You probably don't want it unless you're already super deep in the weeds with these. The drop rate buff isnt worth it, just run The Storyteller instead, it's free.

Caduceus

You don't need this. No, it's not a good Manadiver mainhand, Manadiver wants to play with CA off to maximize its nukes.

Mjolnir

Freikugel

Similarly to Gae Bulg, the supplemental here doesn't stack with any normal grid sources. Don't.

Sky Piercer

Sky Piercer still sees some niche "best-in-slot" usage in some elements. It suffers from a similar issue to Gae Bulg and Freikugel, as its teamwide echo will not stack with most other common grid/passive echo sources. (The MC-only echo is unique and stacks with everything, though)

Still, it is worth considering if you're really deep into an element and already tend to play Luchador in it often (or are banking on a good Row5 version). Otherwise, it's likely to just rot in your stash.

Ullikummi

Fascinating weapon in that it's, in most cases, the best harp in the game, and yet in most cases, also entirely useless, as harp classes suck for any content you'd really want to minmax in.

When it's good, it's good, but it rarely gets a chance to shine. Maybe decent if you're a FA Lumberjack lover.

Similarly to Sky Piercer, this weapon may end up getting some great usability with a good Row5 harp class, so it may be a decent pick if you wish to futureproof an element you love.

Special shoutout to Water Lumberjack in Dark Rapture Zero going insane with this weapon too.

Ameno Habakiri

Far too unreliable to be any useful. Buy it if you want to meme like crazy, don't otherwise.

Revans Weapon Trade Ticket

Warning: This ticket expires April 10th. Make sure to claim it in time.

Given our current knowledge, these weapons come with no awakening. This means that even after you grab one, you'll have to go the respective raid to finish it.

No matter which you pick, they'll be paperweights when picked from the ticket. If you're sub rank-200, you'll never get any value from these no matter which you pick.

Please do not use unawakened Revans weapons in your grid, you will tank your DPS. Once again, I'm floored at Cygames' insistance on giving players Revans weapons with no awakening. Terrible reward overall in my opinion.

In the event that somehow, through some miracle, these weapons come with Awakening materials, disregard the previous point.

Alas, I'm still here to give advice, so assuming you can play the raids these come from and you can awaken them:

Extinction Blade: Decent in ATK and DEF as a strong stat stick on either side. Works great at one copy, good pick.

Schrodinger: Probably the best pick here, as hosting Diaspora is incredibly accessible and can be done with lower end grids. Even one with ATK awakening is a great upgrade to CA setups.

Sette di Spade: Sette works on a compounding effect. Having just one in your grid is a waste. Worth getting if you want to fast track another and have a few made, but not worth if it's your first.

Fang of the Dragonslayer: Best-in-Slot in ATK for great damage potential. Very strong choice, but make sure you have enough sustain to outlive the Damage-over-Time effect, or you will die.

Symmetria: Primal-only High Difficulty weapon. Chances are if you need it you already have it.

Forbidden Agastia: Very strong ATK weapon for magna and primal alike, especially in unboosted situations. Also a strong pick.

Conclusion

Phew, that was a lot. A lot of this info came out yesterday on the stream, so I had to rush to get this out with a decent amount of research.

While I did ask people to review this before posting, there's likely to be some issues here and there with something I missed. The game is complex enough even a small peer review commitee will miss things in such short notice. If you know of any information/setups I missed that changes the values of things mentioned here, please do let me know.

Thank you as always for reading.

#gbf #granblue #granblue fantasy #granblue advisor #granblue tips

[teyums]

His Secret Admirer (Part Three) - Neteyam x fem na’vi reader

part one | part two | part four | bonus chapter

wc: 4.3k

a/n: here is the well awaited pt 3, I didn’t know it could get more angst-y than it already has but boy I was wrong. the next part will be the final part to the series, prepare for sh!t to go down y’allll 😗

contains: soft + angsty neteyam, lots of emotions so buckle up fr, some language (not much at all), familial conflict

“~~” resembles a time skip or a POV change

Neteyam rarely got angry. But after witnessing Eyiti purposely say what she did to hurt your feelings, he felt anger bubble deep in the pit of his stomach. He so badly wanted to chase after you as he watched you walk away, but he couldn’t risk having her run to tell her parents that the olo’eyktan’s son had disrespected her. This was what he faced on the daily, people holding his future over his head with no regard of how high he had to jump just to get it back. He was trying his hardest to keep his parents in a good mood, so when he would tell them about you they would be less inclined to deny his pleas and actually hear him out. If he went after you, it would squash all of his hopes of ever being yours. He whipped his head around to face the unapologetic girl in front of him, not being able to conceal his repugnance.

“Why did you do that?” He spoke through gritted teeth, jerking his arm away to remove her grimy mitt from his skin. “I did not promise you anything. My parents do not speak for me.” He brushed his arm, trying to expunge the feeling of her touch.

“Oh, but I think they do ‘Teyam.” She cooed with a pout that was far from genuine to shield the smug that lied behind her lips. “They said you’d talk to my parents, so that’s what you’re going to do. Unless, you want me to go and tell my father about your little girlfriend. And now that I think about it, I don’t even think I heard your parents mention her. Is that allowed?” She already knew the answer, her question was only a threat.

Everything began to add up in his mind. Why her behavior would change so suddenly- trying her hardest to gain his attention conveniently at the time you would come around. He had never once felt the urge to injure a woman, and he still didn’t, but he was definitely tempted to tag Kiri in on this conversation and support whatever method of action she chose to take.

He wished he could have told you in that moment that being her date was never his idea. But he was just as stunned, it hadn’t even been brought up to him before Eyiti revealed the information in front of the two of you. There his parents went again, making decisions for him knowing he would have no choice but to follow through. His heart felt like it had been stomped on, even more so at the thought of how badly you were hurting right now. He had no intention of leading you on, and you probably hated him for doing just that, even if it were accidental. In fact, he planned on agreeing to the Ikran ride, taking the two of you somewhere you wouldn’t be disturbed and asking you to be his date to the festival. But everything went to shit, like usual.

He exhaled sharply, biting his tongue to keep himself from saying anything that would have this brat running to make his life more of a living hell than it was already becoming. He dodged Eyiti’s attempt at grabbing his hand to lead him along, shooting her a piercing glare. If looks could kill, the village would be planning her funeral right about now. “I can walk just fine on my own. And stop calling me that.”

He entered her family’s home with as much respect as he could muster, grudgingly taking a seat once realizing his parents had already arrived. There was nothing he could do to stall this any longer. He kept his stare avoidant, anything to distract him from the conversation at hand. There was a drastic amount of space between him and Eyiti on the mat, which Jake had not failed to realize. The voices around him sounded like they were underwater as he tuned them out. He toyed with the intricate details on his armband while they spoke, all he could think about was how this was the last place he wanted to be. His mind was anywhere else but here. The image of you talking with Ta’olu reappeared in his mind like clockwork, regardless of how many times he tried to erase it.

“Neteyam?” Neytiri’s voice repeated for the third time, sending him a warning glance once noticing he was out of it before she proceeded. “Do you agree with the date chosen for your ceremony?”

No, absolutely not. He didn’t agree with the date chosen, he didn’t even agree with the woman chosen.

Eyiti never paid him mind years ago until the day she found out what he would grow up to be. She looked at him like a piece of meat and he knew it. Not that he ever craved her attention; when she would speak he would simply imagine she was someone else. You were the only girl in the clan who saw him for who he truly was. Just a man wanting to fall in love like everybody else. Was that so bad?

Neteyam abruptly rose up from where he sat and cleared his throat, effectively cutting the conversation short with an unexpected answer. “I am sorry, I refuse to mate with Eyiti. I will only accompany her to the festival, as that has been promised by my parents. But no one other than me will have a say in who will have my heart.”

The mouths of everyone in the room fell to the floor but Neteyam stood strong on his declaration, excusing himself from the conversation and walking out of the tent- leaving Eyiti as stunned and embarrassed as she had made you feel earlier. Jake and Neytiri immediately rose to go after him, apologizing for his change of behavior as much as they could while her parents consoled their daughter who was now sobbing dramatically.

He didn’t want to accompany her to the festival at all, but declining her as a mate, and forcing his parents to meet someone new all in one day was probably not the best idea. His plan was to show up with Eyiti, then ditch her in roughly ten minutes after her parents saw them together, slip out unnoticed and find you. He’d have to get Tuk in on the plan to serve as a distraction, which shouldn’t be too difficult for him. Neteyam was a stickler for being a gentleman, but he couldn’t care less about that witch’s feelings.

His legs were sent into a slight run-walk as Jake forced him into their family home by the back of his neck. He sighed and pushed a hand through his hair before turning around to face his father who was nearly red in the face, already knowing what was next to come.

“What the hell is wrong with you? Do you have any idea how much you’ve embarrassed us? Our entire family? In front of the parents of the woman who is supposed to be your mate?” He yelled a string of questions, his finger pointed out of their tent to clarify exactly what he was referring to. His eldest son stood unamused. Silent and withdrawn. His physical body was here, but his mental was somewhere unknown. His head was turned to the side, his face not even so much as flinching at his father’s words. He simply laughed to himself, dropping his head towards the floor and mumbling incomprehensible sentences to himself.

“And what are you laughing at? Which part of this is funny to you?” Neytiri chimed in, looking at him with such disbelief it would have hurt his feelings, had he found the will to care. There was no more approval he strived to seek from his parents.

“Answer your mother when she’s speaking to you, boy.” Jake growled, Neteyam’s ears perking up.

“I am not a boy.” His eyes shot up, challenging his father with zero hesitation in his tone. Neteyam had it to his wits end with his parents trying to control every aspect of his life. Elder or not, he was no longer going to let them have a say in who he chose to love or how he chose to live his life. “You heard what I said.” His accent was apparent.  “I will not mate with that woman. And I will not apologize for loving another, my heart belongs to [Y/n].” He stated strongly, lifting his chin to indicate confidence in his decision.

Neytiri blinked in astonishment, her voice sputtering while she tried to find a way to continue the conversation with words instead of knocking him over his head. “And what makes you think we will allow you to mate with someone we do not know? Someone we have not deemed fit for you? This girl will be Tsahik, Neteyam!” She hissed.

This. This was the issue. His parents were so concerned about status in the clan that they let it overshadow their own son’s right to happiness.

“I have tried so many times to tell you! She is special, I swear it. You guys won’t listen to me.” He extended his hands to the pair in a pleading motion, his voice growing louder with each word he spoke and a slight crack in his pitch giving away how much this was all starting to affect him. “Dad wasn’t even one of the people when the two of you mated, it went against everything the clan knows. You cannot judge me. And I couldn’t care less about this stupid title. You can give it to Lo’ak, for all I care.” He spat, leaving them right where they stood and storming out of their home.

He was right, whether they wanted to admit it or not. Jake wasn’t a real na’vi when he first arrived, he was an avatar driver with an aborted mission. Neytiri was promised to another, but went against her parents and mated with him anyway. They both went against the rules because their love for each other was so strong, just as he was now. How could his own parents blame him for wanting to find true love just as they did?

“Neteyam!” Neytiri gasped, both her hands coming up to cover her mouth and tears forming in her eyes.

Jake immediately turned to comfort her, pulling her into a firm hug and rubbing her back. “He doesn’t mean that, I know he doesn’t. He’s just upset, I’ll talk to him.” He held her as she cried into his chest, wanting to go after Neteyam but knowing he couldn’t leave his wife alone after what had transpired.

By the time Jake had soothed Neytiri and ran out after his son, he had already set out into the air on his Ikran without another word spoken.

Neteyam soared through the purple-tinted sky aimlessly, allowing the bond with the animal to reach deep into his heart and figure out where to take him. He winced at the thought of how he had addressed his mother, the look on her face after what he said. He was fed up and couldn’t stand to argue any longer, his voice was not being heard no matter how loud he spoke and it had pushed him well over the edge. By the time he realized what he was saying, it was too late to take it back and the damage had already been done. He felt the innate urge to turn around, to run to his mother and apologize. But he was tired of doing the right thing all the time. For once in his life he just wanted to be able to make a mistake like everybody else could without it seeming like the end of the world.

His father’s voice calling his name could be heard through the speaker connected to the neckpiece they all wore for communication. He curled his lips in annoyance, hooked two fingers under the band and snapped it off his neck with ease. He pitched it into the air without another thought, letting it fall to the ground below him. He had no idea where it landed and he couldn’t care less. He didn’t want to be bothered anymore.

He allowed the wind to flow through his braids, the cold, crisp air hitting his cheek and helping in keeping him grounded. After what felt like a short journey, his Ikran slowed and prepared to land in the open field by the Tree of Voices- a place for prayers to be heard. He eyed the giant willow tree, ignoring the heavy weight in his chest. He dismounted from the bird, gently pulling his braid to break tsaheylu and smoothing a hand up its rough back, followed by a tender pat to calm its spirit. He hadn’t been here since his parents brought him to visit the ancestors, when he was younger. There had been nothing he wanted enough to call upon Eywa for, and his duties rendered him far more busy than he had expected, which left almost no time for a casual visit.

He trailed a hand along the delicate, elongated tendrils of the tree as he walked- taking a brief looking around to make sure he was alone before he slowly lowered himself to the ground. He reached over his shoulder to pull the long braid from behind his back, taking hold of one of the tree’s branches in his other hand. He watched closely as his queue reached for the branch, wrapping itself around and making the connection that would allow Eywa to hear his pleas. He could feel the intense spiritual energy coarse through his veins, allowing him to let his guard down.

His head lowered and his eyes came to a close. He had so much to say but didn’t know how to phrase it, didn’t know how to start. Neteyam was not familiar in asking for things, let alone help. He was always made to do everything himself, made to figure it out on his own like a true leader. Every moment in his life boiled down to preparation for what was yet to come, so much that he didn’t even know how to handle the emotions that would arise in the present. He was constantly running, motivation carrying him forward. But now he questioned the purpose of the race entirely. Had he ever stopped to ask himself if this was what he wanted?

“Eywa, I have come to you to ask for help, if you’ll have me.” He started, his voice merely a whisper as he continued. “I don’t know what to do.”

Going against his parents was ultimately going against everything he knew. It felt wrong. Forbidden. But giving up on his feelings for you felt even worse. At this point he didn’t care what would happen, he’d bare with having his potential title stripped from him if it meant he could spend the rest of his life with you by his side.

His eyes shut tightly in attempt to stop the tears he dreaded welcoming. His throat burned and a lump began to form that felt nearly impossible to swallow. He didn’t want to cry, not after he had tried so hard not to. He hadn’t in years, and he knew if he allowed himself to break down in this moment it would only lead to bringing up every other emotion he had succeeded in bottling up for so long.

Neteyam’s shoulders began to shudder and he shook his head in resistance at the shiver that struck through his body, but ultimately failed at putting up a fight. A sob finally erupted from his trembling lips and he brought his free hand up to shield his face, as if he were afraid someone would see him in such a vulnerable state. He sat in the bioluminescent flora around him, simply allowing himself to cry, something he hadn’t been able to do in years. The pressure of being the perfect son had finally gotten to him. He was aware from time that it was slowly creeping up, taking an immense toll on his mental health and he tried his best to outrun it. A slight miscalculation on his end, you can never outrun the inevitable. He had never expected it to break him down in such a way, his body physically feeling weak and hopeless. He was completely conflicted, knowing it was always best to follow his heart but it went against his coding to disappoint his parents.

He felt the presence of Eywa and his ancestors calm him, the pace of his breathing gradually returned to normal and the beating of his heart followed soon after. He wiped his face dry with the backside of his hand, regaining his composure while gathering the will to carry on with his prayer. “I have never asked anything of you until now, because nothing has ever meant more to me than this. Until I met her, I hadn’t known the true meaning of happiness, what it felt like to be alive. And now, we’ve found our way back into each other’s lives and I cannot let her go. Not again.” He felt an ache deep in his chest, fearful that even saying these words out loud would turn them into reality.

“I fear that I have disappointed my parents greatly. I said some things I am not proud of, and I am not sure if I can take back the damage they have caused.” He sighed, his eyes opening and his head raising to peer at the sky above him. “I know she is special. I don’t know what it is, but I can feel it, deep in my bones.” With his hand placed over his chest, it balled into a fist against his skin and he begged with everything he had left in him.

“Please, allow them to see her the way I do.”

~~~

Had it not been for your mother that day, you don’t know what you would’ve done. The walk back to your tent was unforgiving as you tried to hide the tears that were forming once more, not out of sorrow, but of pure disgust. The speed in which you declined Ta’olu’s invitation was utterly comical. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t consider it for a second, but all the faith you had in his proposal died as soon as you found out he was only inviting you to make the same girl he ditched you for in the past, jealous. You wished you hadn’t even stopped to give him the time of day because the whole encounter only made you feel worse.

You pushed through the fabric that served as a doorway to your home and crossed the distance that separated you from your mother, sinking to your knees and tears flowing from your eyes when she wrapped her arms around you without question. “I’m too late, Mama.” You hiccuped. Your tears felt like acid on your cheeks and it hurt to even speak. You hated crying, especially over something like this. The entire process of being upset, realizing your emotions, then having to find an outlet to rid them- revolted you.

“What happened?” Your mother looked down at you, her eyebrows furrowed with concern and a hint of apprehension. Her head moved to the side with an understanding sigh when your crying picked up at the nature of her question, resting her cheek against the top of your head and stroking your hair. She quietly shushed you, rubbing your back to aid in comfort. Your fervent emotions shrouded your will to elaborate.

You sniffled, inhaling a pathetically shaky breath and forcing your voice to come together and make words after a bit. “I’m too late. He’s found someone else.” Saying it out loud to her made it all the more real. You couldn’t stop your heart from clenching when you admitted the truth to her. In all your years of loving him, your mother had never had you come to her with anything he had done that wasn’t positive.

She slowly pulled away from your embrace, but only to look into your eyes as you spoke. She needed to make sure for herself that she was hearing this correctly. “No… How? The two of you were just together only two days ago.” She sounded as dumbfounded as you felt.

“Eyiti,” You shook your head, wiping the tears that had fallen without your permission off your face with the heel of your hand, annoyed at the fact that more appeared no matter how hard you tried to settle yourself. “She’s his date to the festival tomorrow. He’s probably talking to her parents about it right now.” Your voice got quieter, your shoulders slumping down as you sulked and studied the palms of your hands- staring at the lines etched into your skin as a getaway from your feelings.

Your eyes shot up when you heard your mother breath out a sigh, it almost sounded like she was *relieved*. She quickly geared up to explain once the expression on your face became one of slight betrayal and confusion.

She shook her head and laughed quietly, “There is still time, [Y/n]. Her being his date does not mean they are promised to one another. But it very well could, if you do not take your chance tomorrow.” She used her thumbs to clean the tears that had rolled down the side of your face, cupping it in her hands afterwards. “Did you bring what is needed?” Her eyes were soft and seeing her calm expression somehow helped you in doing the same.

“Yes, I…” You blinked to clear your vision, opening your mouth to speak but settling for a nod of your head. The small bag was brought around to your front, holding it open so she could see inside.

A grin from her was all that was required to strike you with the ambition you didn’t know you had left.

Your fingers were sore to the touch and swollen after hours of carving the marbles and stones you had found into small beads. The process was intricate and painstaking. It required delicate hands and utmost patience. Had you tried to speed up the process you were at risk of cracking the material directly in half, rendering it useless. And after doing just that almost three times while trying to rush through, you had absolutely no more room for error.

You used a thin twine to weave the beads together, crocheting intricate rows of stitches between the material to hold it together, making a clasp that would be easy for him to take on and off on his own. Your mom had taught you how to make jewelry and garments years ago, you eventually surpassed her in skill. You hadn’t the desire or need to make something for a while, but the talent you possessed remained. You constructed his gift with unbelievable precision, your eyes strained from barely taking time to blink. But you were still incredibly nervous that it wouldn’t be to his liking.

Unknown to you, Neteyam loved everything you did, even if it was as simple as breathing.

You couldn’t thank your mom enough for helping you with this. She had given you a deadpan look the tenth time you expressed gratitude, so you figured ten was a good number to settle on. You felt silly even asking, so you were more than appreciative that she had offered. At first, it was hard for you to understand why she had been so supportive. Then she explained to you that when she were head over heels for your father, she had no one to lean on but herself, not even her own mother. She was more than willing to help her daughter win over the one she loved, because all she wanted was to see you happy.

Eclipse had long passed, the sun tucking itself away after a job well done and the moon announcing its arrival with how the night now encapsulated the village. The necklace was finally complete. One could tell how much effort went into it just by looking at it, it was beautiful. The beads were varying shades of brown, orange, and red- Neteyam’s favorite colors to wear. You honestly had no idea why you decided on still making it, without even knowing how this whole thing would play out at that. There was a small part of you that feared it would go to waste after what you witnessed earlier, but there was an even bigger part of you that since rediscovered the hope you previously lost.

How dark it had become outside skated past you without notice until you finally looked up from the spot your eyes were locked on since this afternoon. The both of you had even skipped dinner just to make sure you finished in time for tomorrow.

“How are you even still sitting like this?” You collapsed backwards with a exhale of great fatigue, your eyes fluttering closed against your will and your back crying out in relief. You knew hunching over in the same exact spot would hurt, but you had no idea you’d come out of it feeling a hundred years older than you already were. “Do you think he will like it?” You mumbled, sleepiness hurriedly overtaking you.

By the time your mother turned to respond, an array of faint snores could be heard. Had you not been so exhausted, you would’ve awoken at the sound of her laughing due to your mouth hanging open obnoxiously. She smiled at you with nothing but endearment, gingerly lifting your head to slip a cushion under it and draping a light blanket over your body that was now curled into a fetal position- a mindless endeavor to seek warmth. She leaned down to kiss your temple, pushing a few braids from your face so they wouldn’t disrupt you. “He will love it.” She whispered.

a/n: y’all knew i wasn’t gonna make her accept Ta’olu’s invitation that’s toooo cliche for my liking 😭 also you literally have the best mom she’s so sweet

This chapter was so emotional to write omg! but can we talk ab the fact that Neteyam finally stood up to his parents about you, need a him in my life fr 💔

Please like + reblog if you can, it’s much appreciated! 💞

tag list ⬇️

@hornknee-and-bi-myself @obsessedwithlife @llearlert @awkward-halfhug @extreamlycutecuban @answer-the-sirens @arminsgfloll @jackiehollanderr @tejas-kris @neteyamoa @instabull @halibanana @bookishaficionado @uwu-i-purple-you @neteyamsgirll @kre3ce @philiasoul @eringaitskill @bwormie @fanboyluvr @ssc7514 @meivap @afro-hispwriter @hellok1ttycake @melsunshine @casuallydogobsessed @katsukiswrld @mcdonalds-playground @itscheybaby @neenieweenie @babyvinnie @msjae @laylasbunbunny @epicy0n @dreamersbelieveinus @elegantzippercashshoe

#avatar 2 #neteyam #neteyam sully #neteyam x reader #neteyam fic #avatar way of water #neteyam x you #avatar fanfiction #neteyam x y/n #neteyam fanfiction #neteyam fluff #neteyam avatar

[circeius-invidioso]

I do not get why the Red Corsairs are not a popular choice.

Like.

Like here is the elevator pitch for the warband and then we can come to some justified conclusion.

What isn't there to love?

You want me to turn into an infomencial and make a top 3 reasons why the Red Corsairs are great?

Cause I can.

And I will.

The Diverse Working Enviroment

Here in the Red Corsairs we might have started as Ultramarines but the barrier for entry is on the floor. So anyone can join.

You are Night Lord with a bad rep and no ship.

Buckle up we got you covered.

You are a Fallen and have 20 Dark Angels all up in yo business? Trying to shoot down the boss babe you are?

Fear not, or in our case. Know no Fear. We are strapped and don't get clapped.

You are a traitor that likes their Legion but sadly you got in our way?

Tough luck buddy, you will join or die and your geene seed will join our cause. Nothing personal battle brother. Just business as usual.

Everyone is welcome as long as they follow Huron's guidelines and don't aggitate the topless sweaty Khorne worshipping Ultramarines in the basement.

Sustainability

Unlike the corrupt Imperium of man and the corpse Emperor our leader is powered by miracles (which is trully a miracle how he survived but that on the next section), and we use 0 psyckers to power our crap.

Our carbon footprint is also minimum as we use salvaged goods and don't indulge in toxic industries that destroy worlds.

The Red Corsair base of operation is in the Eye of Terror and from there we expand our scope. A place greatly known for its constant shifts, and horrible conditions but the tan our serfs have are spectacullar from all that cosmic radiation.

Finally we are commited to recycling. As in we take from our victims benefactors and put those stolen goods to some great use. Nothing goes to waste, neither mortal, nor static object. If something is not nailed on the floor we will take it.

In fact we might take the floor too and the nails used to set it in place.

Nothing goes to waste!

Unmatched Leadership

Last, but certainly not least.

The man.

The myth.

The Legend.

Huron Blackheart.

Aka Lufgt Huron.

Aka what would happen if we gave a compressed Guilliman a daemonic familiar and left him to ferment in a warp storm.

Not only the name is so edgy you might cut yourself by saying it out loud. But also it's complex enough that if you say it quickly three times without twisting your tongue theres is a chance furniture might start levitating.

The man has put his Ultramarine brain to use and amased enough influence and power to put the Black Legion to shame.

Huron went from 0 to 100 in no time, he is a self made Warmaster. With no daddy issues or troubles in the world, he goes into battle blasting Alestorm in the voxxcasters.

He does not care.

He probably wears this when he wants to relax.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

He has a biker gang specifically organized to hunt down those who have betrayed him.

They slap those things on their armors not for the usual biker reason

(which fun fact the meaning is, 99% of the bikers are law-abiding, where the 1% are not. That's where the 1% comes from. The more you know 🌈)

no they wear that 1% because that's how high are your chances of escaping from them are.

Is that a bit extreme?

Yes.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

The dude once gathered his buddies and decided...

to you know. Have a casual outing. Nothing too serious, it was a sunday afteral.

So they decided on.

Kidnapping Guilliman.

Which they almost did if not for a Fallen of all people getting in the way.

But still.

The mad lad took Macragge's Honour and went on a joyride/ mini civil war.

Who in the galaxy can turn and say.

Yeah, I stole Macragge's Honour, almost captured my old Primarch. Told a daemon prince they are irrelevant on my way there. Anyway after crushing a fool who thought he could take my crown as king of the space pirates, I went to the home planet of the White Scars and kidnapped and tortured their Chapter Master. What did you do this week? 💅

Who wouldn't want to be a part of that?

You tell me I can be an immortal, gorgeous chaos Ultramarine goth boy going on pirate adventures across the galaxy?

Where do I sign up?

I don't need ink for a signature.

I will use my own blood.

#warhammer #warhammer 40000 #warhammer 40k #wh40k #shitpost #red corsairs #chaos ultramarines #chaos space marines #games workshop #black library #huron is the chaos ultramarines representation we deserve