#why on god’s green earth don’t you get divorced

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

49%

Title: 49% 

Summary: If there’s one thing that Spencer hates more than rejection, it’s spontaneity. But sometimes the things (and people) we love outweigh the things that we hate.  AKA a series of events leading up to a weekend wedding between the BAU’s finest Dr. Spencer Reid and his partner in crime, Y/N. 

Word Count: 1365 

Warnings: none 

Author’s Note: I hope that you enjoy reading this! I really appreciate all of the support and kind words :) 

49%

Spencer Reid is terrified. Nothing could compare for the pure fear that courses through his veins in this moment. Not even the times he’d run into hostage situations without wearing a Kevlar vest or even in the most lonely parts of his life. He figures that he’s terrified because he has so much to lose. Never in his life did he have someone that loves him as much as Y/N does. And that terrifies him. Somehow, when Spencer is with Y/N he’s simultaneously a man numb with love and a little boy shaking with fear. He knows that he should have gotten over this fear of rejection years ago. He knows that Y/N would never intentionally hurt him. He knows that she loves him more than anything. 

So why? Why is he so terrified to ask her to marry him? Logically, there’s no reason for her to say no. They’ve been together for 3 years, which is long enough at their age to enter into an engagement. It’s not like she doesn’t want to get married; he’s seen her Pinterest wedding moodboard. She talks about their children, almost like they're already here. She wants to get married and she wants to have kids, but the question that bounces around in Spencer’s mind is does she want that with him? 

“Next!” the barista calls Spencer forward to the counter to order. 

“Hi, I’ll have an extra large black coffee with 6 Splendas, and uh, a large iced green tea with honey,” Spencer orders, pulling out his credit card to pay for the drinks. Coffee is probably not the wisest choice, but what can Spencer say the heart wants what the heart wants. 

Spencer awkwardly waits for his drinks, trying to ignore the small box that burns a whole in his pocket. He’d bought the ring a couple of months ago, right after a case that both of them almost didn’t come home, or worse almost came home in a casket. 

“Two drinks for Spencer!” a barista from behind the counter calls, telling him that his drinks are ready. Spencer takes a sip of his coffee, the sweet liquid burning his tongue. Taking a look at the time on his watch, Spencer decides that it’s time to head to the park. 

It’s a short walk to the park, but it seems like it’s the longest walk of his life. Maybe if he wasn’t so nervous or terrified, he'd be able to enjoy how beautiful was. Spencer might be a complete ball of nerves, but he’s a romantic at heart. He wants this to be a perfect start to their perfect life. He finds the park bench that he told Y/N to meet him at. He sits there, waiting for her to show up and waiting for their life to start. 

Spencer’s leg bounces up and down. He should have worn a different pair of shoes. These Converse are so old and ratty, he thinks. He thinks he looks ridiculous in his cardigan and corduroy pants, what was he thinking? He can’t actually expect that she’s going to yes to him. 

While his thoughts are occupied by the constant inner commentary of rejection and ridicule, he fails to her the leaves crunch behind him. His vision goes black when his eyes are covered by a pair of familiar feeling hands. Y/N’s laugh gives it away instantly, but Spencer’s constant vigilance does cause him to yelp in a high pitched squeal. 

“Spencer! It’s me honey,” Y/N says, wrapping her arms around his neck and peppering his cheek with quick kisses. It’s the kind of kisses that say “I’m happy to see you” and “You’re the only one I want to see”. It’s at times like these that he doubts his doubts; maybe he can have faith and hope and lean into the romantic side of himself. The side of himself that sees them walking in the park with a baby stroller, playing on the playset with their children, teaching their kids how to drive in the parking lot and sitting on this bench when their backs hurt all the time and their faces have a few more wrinkles.

“I’d know that laugh anywhere, Y/N” Spencer says, watching her move to sit next to him on the bench. 

“Ohh, thanks for the iced tea!” She says, taking a sip of the cold drink. Even though it’s barely winter, Spencer still can’t believe that she can drink iced beverages in any kind of weather below 50 degrees. He nods and kisses her on her cheek, which causes a small giggle to emerge. Spencer is still kind of surprised that his affections can elicit such happy responses from her. 

“So,” Y/N starts. “Why did you leave our house at 7:00 AM and text me to meet you here?” 

“Umm,” Spencer says, the nerves bubbling to the surface. You can do this, Spencer, he thinks. You can do this, she’s not going to say no. She can’t say no. At this moment, Spencer is really wishing he had his passport with him and a getaway car to jump in, just in case Y/N says no.

“Did you know that only 3% of weddings happen in a courthouse?” Y/N asks at a completely stunned Spencer. 

“Yeah,” Spencer says timidly, not entirely sure where this is panning out, but grateful to listen to his girlfriend. It beats the alternative, him saying something stupid and her laughing at him; him fleeing the state and ending up a magician in a Las Vegas casino. 

“Yes, courthouse weddings are a great alternative, they’re affordable and efficient for couples who just want to get married without all that fuss,” Y/N adds, looking at Spencer. 

She’s profiling you, Spencer thinks. Don’t make eye contact. He knows (and she knows) that the moment he looks into her eyes, he’s done for. Las Vegas here he comes….

“And 51% of marriages end in divorce,” Spencer tells her, before he can even think about what he’s saying. Great he thinks, the day that he’s supposed to propose to her, he’s talking about divorce statistics. 

“You know that I failed statistics in college, Spence?” Y/N asks him. 

“I think I remember you mentioning that,” Spencer says, now thoroughly confused as to where this is going. 

“I have an evil plan to seek revenge against statistics, so I think that it’s my life mission to prove them wrong,” Y/N finishes, pulling something out from her bag. 

Spencer can feel his heart beating in his chest. He’s even more terrified than he was before. Suddenly all those songs that Y/N made him dance to late in the middle of the night make complete sense. 

“But, I also think that it’s my life mission to spend the rest of my life with you, Spence. So, I know that it’s not alway the case for the girl to propose marriage, but I think that you deserve someone to propose to you,” Y/N says, very quickly. 

Spencer sits there on the bench with Y/N sitting right next to him, utterly speechless. Did she just….

“You want to marry me?” Spencer says, dumbly. 

“Of course I do, Spencer! Give me your hand, I got you an engagement ring and-”

Spencer, suddenly fearless, cups her face in his hands, effectively making her quiet. He works on the surge of confidence, leaning in and kisses Y/N on the lips. It’s like he’s kissing her for the first time in his life. It’s like his first kiss ever, but it’s the first kiss of all the kisses of the rest of their life. 

“So I’ll take that as a yes,” Y/N says, breaking apart from Spencer. 

Spencer lets out a laugh, completely forgetting why on Earth he was so scared to propose. 

“So you’re not the only one who had this idea, Y/N” Spencer tells her, reaching into his cardigan pocket. He hands her the velvet box and reveals the vintage ring that he picked out from the second hand jewelry store. 

“Spencer? Is this why you told me to come here? Oh God, I ruined your proposal!” Y/N says, embarrassed that she messed with Spencer’s plans, knowing how nervous he can get. 

“On the contrary Y/N, I’m sure that this is the best possible proposal,” Spencer tells her, as she lays her head against his shoulder. 

“Spencer,” Y/N says, suddenly serious. 

“Yes, fiance?” Spencer teases. 

“How would you like to be in the 3% of marriages? Like as soon as possible. Like tomorrow? I don’t think I can wait another second not being married to you,” she confesses. 

“As long as we’re in the 49%, I’ll do anything you want.” 

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid deserved a happy ending #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #spencer reid x y/n fluff #spencer reid gets a happy ending #mgg

[missymurphy1985]

Out of the Blue

*This was a request*

Warnings - smut / unplanned pregnancy / talk of abortion

I've used a fictional family for Cillian for this, names have been changed.

"That's it then," Cillian sighed, reading the letter from his solicitor, his friend Adam sitting opposite him in the kitchen of Cillian's new apartment in North Dublin. The Decree Nisi, his divorce from Kate now final. He felt a tinge of sadness, he couldn't help it, they'd spent most of their lives together and shared two teenage boys, but he couldn't forgive her cheating on him while he was away filming, the trust had left him completely.

"To a fresh start, Cill." Adam raised his bottle of beer to Cillian's pint of Guinness as they toasted, Ada ln trying to lighten the darkness in his best friend's eyes. "You're better off without her - now you can move on."

"Yeah no thanks, I'm done with women for a LONG time Ad, they're all the fucking same!" Cillian smiled, almost a laugh. "All I'm interested in now is the boys, they've been through one hell of a rollercoaster this last year."

"When are they coming to stay?"

"Tomorrow afternoon, I've got them all weekend."

"Then tonight Mr Murphy I am taking you OUT! Come on, we can go check out that new bar in the city, there's a band on!" Cillian groaned, that was not his plan for this evening. All he wanted was his pyjamas, a good book and an early night. This wasn't lost on Adam. "I'm not taking no for an answer here, come on! It's been months since you went out, let's do this!"

"Adam please... Not tonight yeah? Maybe next week, or.."

"Enough! No! You're not moping any more, I'm taking to out and that's the end of it." Cillian rolled his eyes. Fuck it, arguing with Adam was pointless, he'd known this since high school.

Within an hour they were ready, both of them in jeans and Timberland boots, Cillian in a blue striped t shirt and Adam in a green one. Hair fixed, they headed out to the waiting taxi outside.

"The first sign of someone trying to take my picture, I'm out of there Adam..." Cillian dreaded the thought of being papped out on the town following his divorce. The papers just wanted a scoop on who he'd be sleeping with now he was freshly single and available. Adam nodded in agreement a deal, as the taxi pulled outside the bar.

******************************

Y/n woke up, her head pounding. Opening her eyes she looked around at her surroundings, not recognising a single thing.

"The fuck have you done this time y/n..." You groaned, rolling your eyes and sitting up gingerly, trying to stop the contents of your stomach from evacuating violently over the unfamiliar bedsheets. Glancing at the alarm clock, you groaned again. 8am... Why the hell was it so damn early.. and where the fuck was she?? She heard a door downstairs open and close, and froze. She wasn't alone. Footsteps up the stairs, she quickly hid back under the covers pretending to be asleep as she heard the bedroom door open and the pressure on the side of the bed as someone sat down next to her sleeping body.

"Hey.. you awake?" An Irish voice filled the silence, as the smell of fresh coffee found its way under the duvet you were hiding under. Clenching your eyes tightly together, you slowly pulled the duvet back and opened them, seeing the man you clearly spent the previous evening with. Your eyes found his.. my god they were so blue.. he was handsome.. bit older than you, maybe? You couldn't tell for sure. You definitely recognised him from somewhere other than last night though, maybe he went to uni with you?

"Um... Morning.. I uh -" you sat up, taking the coffee from his hand, thanking him.

"Did we -"

"Did we.."

You both spoke at the same time. Clearly neither of you remembering the night before. You smiled, he smiled, before you both burst out laughing.

"Fucking hell, how wasted were we? We can't even remember if we had sex or not? I've NEVER been that drunk.. listen I'm sorry, this isn't exactly a great morning after huh?" He took a sip of his coffee, blushing slightly.

"Hey this is not something I do regularly okay.." he shook his head agreeing, neither did he.

"Cillian." He offered you his hand to shake, still smirking. "Listen if you can't remember if we had sex, you definitely can't remember my name..." Your turn to blush now.

"Y/n. And no. I definitely don't remember. But if it makes you feel any better, I'm still fully clothed? I don't think we had sex then redressed, do you?" You laughed, showing him you were still wearing the top and jeans you had on last night.

The pair of you laughed in relief.. eyes meeting again as the tension finally left the room.

"I can drive you home whenever you're ready y/n. If you need to get back?" Cillian offered.

"Erm.. oh yeah.. that'd be great, thank you.. listen, would it be cheeky to ask for a shower, or..."

"Hey, no not at all! Just through there," he pointed to his en suite. "I'll fetch you a towel, take your time."

You smiled. Those beautiful blue eyes were captivating you completely, you couldn't drag your own eyes away. He couldn't take his own from yours either, that tension was back, but it was a different kind of tension this time. Neither of you could remember how you got here, but neither of you minded that it had happened.

"You.. I'll go have that shower, yeah?" You moved to stand but stumbled slightly, landing closer to Cillian. He didn't move. Your face was now a mere few inches from his. Those eyes, once again never leaving yours. Your core burned, glancing down you saw the obvious excitement in his trousers, causing you to groan quietly.

He leaned in slowly, lips brushing yours carefully. You couldn't stop yourself kissing him back, within seconds the kiss becoming heated, tongues colliding. He leaned you back down onto the bed, moving his body to cover your own. You couldn't stop yourself, it was as if you were moving in autopilot, everything inside your core was on fire, demanding more of this incredible man immediately.

He stopped kissing you and hovered over your face, rubbing his nose against yours.

"Are you sure about this y/n?" You nodded, and kissed him again hungrily, parting your legs as he fell between them, grinding his own hips against yours. You could feel his hard-on, and you bucked your hips against his.

"Please... Don't stop now... I need this.. even if I never see you again after this Cill, just let me.."

"Baby I don't do one night stands... I'm taking you for breakfast as soon as we're done. Deal?" You smiled, no that was probably a grin. Breakfast sounded damn good right now, but not as good as he'd feel buried inside you.

"Deal. Now fuck me.. please?"

"Your wish is my command." Clothes removed, he grabbed a condom from his jeans pocket (Adam bought them the night before, he remembered that part at least, him slipping a couple into his jeans pocket as Cillian protested he wasn't going to sleep with anyone that night anyway...) Slipping it on, he pushed himself inside you, filling you completely.

"Fuck... Cillian that's fucking it..." You raised your hips with each thrust, he buried his face into your neck, biting the skin and sucking it slightly. You could hear him moaning into your collarbone.

"Shit you feel good... So fucking tight y/n..."

"Harder... Cillian, harder..." Your nails scratched down his back - if he was marking you, you were absolutely marking him in return. His thrusts now came hard and fast, as your walls clenched around him, your body finding that sweet release you needed, you hands pulling his hair hard. He came immediately after you, with a low moan into your hair as he pulled it in return, both of you panting trying to catch your breath.

"Shit me... I wasn't expecting that.." Cillian eased himself out, catching the condom before throwing it on the floor by the bed. Collapsing next to you, he turned to face you.

"I'm sorry... I don't even know you and I'm fucking you.. this isn't me y/n, I mean it, I don't do this, I've NEVER done this before."

"Hey, you've never had a one time thing? Seriously?"

"I was married for 20years until last night y/n!" He laughed, causing you to smile too. Suddenly your smile dropped a little.

"How old are you? If you don't mind me asking.."

"42. You?"

"If I tell you, don't freak out yeah?"

"Y/n I know you're younger okay, just tell me. It's okay."

"24." His eyes widened, was that in horror? Shock? Disgust? You couldn't tell but it didn't look good...

"24?? Shit me... The press are gonna have a field day with this..." You sat up, suddenly extremely self conscious. Age was never an issue for you, you actually preferred an older man, but it clearly bothered him.

"The press?" You asked, confused. "Why on earth would they be bothered?"

Cillian looked at you. You looked back at him completely deadpan. Shit, you were serious.

"Google me. Cillian Murphy." You reached into your jeans pocket for your phone and typed his name.

"Oh shit..."

**********************************

"Y/n, you still with me?" Cillians voice floated through the screen, knocking you from your daydream. Filming over in England for Peaky Blinders, Skype calls were your norm now.

"What? Shit sorry, baby, I was in a world of my own then! What did you say?"

"I asked if that delivery had arrived from Amazon, those books I ordered? You ok?"

"What books? Oh, those.. erm yeah I think so, something arrived for you earlier anyway, I left it on the kitchen side for you for when you get home next week. At least I think I did..."

"What's going on with you? Are you okay? You haven't been yourself for a few days now, forgetting things? You left your keys at work the other day, your phone in your friend's car.. what's going on?" Truth be told, you had no idea. Since your chest infection four months ago, you'd lost the ability to adult. You and Cillian had moved into a new home on the outskirts of Dublin 4 months ago, that morning after being the start of a blossoming romance, that led to you moving in together within the space of 6 months. Everyone had something to say, especially his ex wife who was still telling everyone who'd listen that you were obviously sleeping together while Cillian was still married, obviously he traded her in for a younger model, obviously blah, blah, blah... Never mind the fact that SHE cheated on HIM, no mention of that... Luckily your friends and family saw past all of it, and welcomed the new relationship - seeing how good you two fitted together, it wasn't hard to see why. You were the gin to his tonic, exactly what you both needed without you knowing you needed it. But these last few months, you'd felt completely spaced out - not even you could deny it.

"That chest infection really knocked the wind out my sales Cill, I haven't been right since! My mind's gone to absolute mush! Maybe I'm just run down, I've got the rest of the week off now so I'll get some rest, I promise."

"Maybe book a doctor's appointment y/n, you should be over this by now, you took all your antibiotics, yeah?"

"Yep, every one, right on time. Babe I'm so tired! I can't explain it!"

"Hit the sack babe, get an early one. I'll call you tomorrow. Don't forget to make that appointment okay?" You agreed, eyes growing heavy. You told each other I love you before closing the call and heading straight to bed.

You left the doctor's appointment the following day with tears in your eyes. This couldn't be happening... You took out your phone to call Serena, your best friend.

Approaching her front door, she opened it and immediately held you as sobs racked your body. Taking you inside away from any prying paparazzi, she put the kettle on.

"He's gonna kill me Serena... This isn't supposed to happen! We agreed - this wasn't part of our plan!! What am I going to do? How could I have been so stupid?"

"This isn't your fault y/n.. and he is not going to kill you, okay?" Nausea overcame you and you ran to her downstairs toilet, your breakfast evacuating violently into the toilet bowl. Serena made you a glass of water. Your phone vibrated, Cillian's name appearing on the screen. You ignored it. Again. Three times he'd called, three times you ignored it.

"You have to tell him sooner or later, y/n..." Serena was at the door, glass of water in hand.

"How? How exactly do I tell the man who is adamant he wants no more children that I'm fucking pregnant Serena? And I'm already 13 weeks gone? How did I not know?" Sobs overcame you again, your phone vibrating a fourth time. This time, a voicemail was left. Shakily, you listened to it.

"Y/n what the fuck? Call me. Call me right now." He didn't sound happy - from just a few missed calls, that was a bit extreme! Once you'd calmed down, Serena left you alone in her kitchen while you called him back via WhatsApp, hands still shaking.

"Baby, what's going on?? Paul's just shown me a photo on Twitter of you leaving the doctors with tears in you eyes, what the hell is happening?" You cursed yourself.. fucking photographers everywhere!

"Babe, are you alone? And sitting down? Put your phone on video call." He did as you asked and you saw his panic-stricken face fill the screen as you settled your phone on the counter. He saw your pale, tear-stained face and turned a shade of white.

"Y/n what is it?"

"I went to the doctor's -"

"I know that, y/n..."

"Look, this is easier if you don't interrupt me, yeah?" He nodded an apology and sat back, arms folded. "So that chest infection.. I had to take antibiotics. And it would appear that antibiotics... Well.. they render the pill completely useless and -" his eyes widened as he listened to you.

"The fuck are you saying y/n?"

"I'm pregnant, Cillian. 13 weeks." You closed your eyes, waiting for him to scream at you. Shout at you. Curse you. But he said nothing. Silence. Complete radio silence. You opened your eyes, tears threatening to fall any second. "Well fucking say something Cill!"

"I... I don't... Fuck y/n... This is a joke, right? You're joking? It's April 1st and you're having me on, yeah?"

"No, Cillian, it's July 15th and I am not FUCKING JOKING!!" The tears fell freely now, how much of an arsehole could he be. You saw him stand up and walk across the room out of view and your tears fell harder. Serena re-entered the room hearing your sobs but you waved her back. Composing yourself..

"Cillian... Cillian are you still there? Cillian?!" He came back into view and sat back down, eyes wet. He was crying.

"I'm sorry.. baby I'm sorry I didn't mean.." choking his words, so many emotions running through his mind. Another wave of nausea saw you suddenly dash out of view to throw up in the toilet again. All he saw was you run.

"Y/n?? Baby?? Where you going??" Serena came into view.

"Cill she's fine - it's morning sickness. She's okay don't worry." Cillian breathed a sigh of relief seeing your best friend there, at least you weren't alone.

"Listen, go take care of her yeah, tell her to call me when she's feeling okay.. and tell her I love her. We'll be okay. Everything will be okay, I promise." Serena smiled, nodding her head, ending the call, making her way back to you, still wretching into the bowl.

*************************************

"How are you feeling?" Cillians voice helped to ease the pain. Your morning sickness had subsided, at least for the last couple of days. Your bump appeared out of nowhere once you'd found out you were pregnant, but with the sudden change in your body came changes you really didn't appreciate - your pelvis was agony. Since you hit the 7 month mark, it felt like it was on fire daily.

"Like dogshit. Like my hips want to cripple me. This is hell Cillian, I miss you so much!" You started to cry again, Cillian feeling completely helpless. He'd already missed so much of this precious time filming, neither of you able to come home or visit due to Covid restrictions and y/n having a high risk pregnancy. Severe morning sickness, coupled now with severe pelvic girdle pain, doctors had signed you off on sick until your maternity leave kicked in in 6 weeks time. You couldn't walk now without crutches, relying on friends and family to bring you groceries. You were beginning to resent your own baby, which made you feel even worse.

"I'm on the first flight home tomorrow morning, we wrapped filming up a month early so I could come home sooner. I wanted to surprise you, but I'm shit at surprises!" He chuckled, causing you to giggle too. You perked up, still lay on the sofa like a bloated whale but at least you were smiling now.

"Really? You'll be home tomorrow?"

"Flight lands at 7am. I'll be home by 7:45. And I'm not going anywhere, y/n, I've cleared my schedule. Nothing coming up, no press, no interviews, I'm completely yours and the baby's for the foreseeable future. I promise." Tears fell again, but this time, happy ones. He'd be home in less than 12 hours. One more sleep, and he'd be home.

*************************************

"Come on y/n... You can do this!" You gripped Cillians hand hard as another contraction rippled painfully across your abdomen. Why the fuck did you refuse the epidural? What the hell were you thinking??

"I can't... I can't do it... Cillian I've been doing this for hours I can't..... Aaaaahhhhhh!" You screamed as your body took over and you bore down. The midwife ordering you to push.

"You can, you can baby, come on... She's nearly here! So close now, just a little longer..." He breathed with you, patting your head with a cold flannel to cool you down. Another contraction, another push...

Suddenly the room erupted with a baby's loud cry, swiftly followed by your own. Cillians eyes watered as your daughter was lifted in the air, still attached by the umbilical cord. Cillian cut it, taking your daughter into his arms. It was already decided he would hold your baby first, after all, you'd been carrying her for 9 months! You choked, seeing him holding your baby for the first time, as he carried her over to you to hold to your chest.

"She's here... She's beautiful.. look at her eyes Cillian!" Ocean blue, just like his.

"She has your nose y/n... My god she's perfect..." He kissed your head gently, openly sobbing now and not caring in the slightest. He thanked you. He thanked you for bringing his daughter safely into the world, for going through hell during the worst pregnancy you could've imagined..

"All worth it... Every second.. but I'm never doing this again Cillian.. I mean it, never again." You glared at him then at the scissors on the table, then down at his groin.

"Fuck off, y/n, I'm not having anyone snipping anything down there..."

"Looks like a life of celibacy then Murphy, that's the only logical conclusion."

"I'll book an appointment next week." You smirked. Very rarely did you not get your own way, and now he had two girls against him, he knew he'd never get his OWN way ever again.

And he wouldn't have it any other way.

Taglist:

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @margoo0

#cillian x smut #cillian x fem!reader #fanfic #cillian x pregnant reader #cillian x childbirth

[flashflashhundredyarddash]

@joanofarkansass Glad you liked my fic recs! Here are some more marvel + xmen ones:

Catch Me Through the Looking-Glass by ylixia

"It's like a recurring nightmare: Steve Rogers, trapped in a world that is not his own, new love left behind, and nothing to keep him going but questions."

This fic is one of the more popular ones for a damn good reason. A Steve Rogers just reflecting on his relationship with his own Tony AND another Steve and Tony's relationship and getting PISSED the whole time.

Conflict of Interest by NotQuiteHumanAnymore

"Tumblr prompt! alien-angel-orsentientpotato (AKA my firstborn, Cheyenne) asked "Okay so headcanon for x-men evolution. Despite Pietro and Kurt being on separate teams they have a weird understanding of each other as they are both fidgety. Pietro because everything moves so slow and Kurt because he's not used to sitting still or being in one place for long periods of time like school demands. So through this understanding they form a weird pseudo friendship thing in which they race each other, play tag, and see what pranks they can pull on each other without getting caught." And it became this 30k behemoth."

I will be real, I ship Peter/Kurt which is definitely a very rarepair lol, but this fic was very cute! It's based on the xmen evolution cartoon. Even if you don't know much about it, I'd recommend giving this fic a shot!

With a Child's Heart by Scarlet_Ribbons

"“Oh, god.” Steve whispers, sounding as horrified as Tony feels. “You’re so young. Tony, he’s so young.”

Spider-Man coughs once, a frail, baby-bird sound.

.

(They find his body in a Dumpster.)"

:((((( Vry sad but vry good

don't know why it took me so long to see by goodmorningbeloved (3799steps)

"“Oh, watch this,” Natasha says, propping her chin against her knuckles and turning a sweet gaze on him. “Tony, what’s it like dating a superhero?”

Tony bristles in irritation. “We’re not dating,” he snaps. “Captain America probably thinks he can get into anyone’s pants just ‘cause he’s got a mask, costume, and reputation, but not me, buddy. That shield? Gotta be overcompensating for something.” He adds, a bit petulantly, “Oh, and all that blue? Definitely more Steve’s color than his.”

- In which Tony is a genius in all matters except recognizing his boyfriend past a mask."

A true comedy of errors lol. Tony doesn't realize that his boyfriend Steve is Captain America.

Idiot Control Now by @cygnaut

"Hank screws something up in the lab and everyone's powers increase tenfold. Not knowing how to control them like this, they all try to cope and not kill each other by mistake while Hank tries to find a way to reverse the effects. Charles has a particularly hard time of it."

I got distracted and reread this while making this list. VERY funny and also very creative in how their powers could fly out of control without devolving into crack territory. I LOVE cygnaut's fic and got distracted reading a bunch get ready for some more y'all

Adventures in Babysitting by cygnaut

"When Jean, Scott, and Ororo get in trouble and have nowhere to turn, they call on the last person they probably should—Magneto."

DADNETO!! I LOVE the way cygnaut writes the Erik and Ororo relationship, if I ever write xmen fanfic assume Erik is Ororo's dad in it okay I don't make the rules anymore only cygnaut makes the rules.

Blessed is the Match Consumed by cygnaut

""This isn't a concentration camp," Delta says, calm, like he's been rehearsing it. Erik looks at the gun on his hip, the guards behind him in the corridor, the bars between them.

He smiles with a lot of teeth. "I think I'd know that better than you."

AU in which the beach divorce didn't happen and Erik decides to stay and help Charles start his school. But despite their clean break, the government isn't ready to let the mutants disappear into hiding."

A brutal and really well-written fic.

Plausible Deniability by DragonBandit

"Kurt and Peter travel across mutant America to recruit for Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters. Kurt has a crush. Peter is oblivious."

Another nightsilver fic that I really like!

Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club by sara_holmes

"Clint Barton's Super Secret Snipers' Club. (Invitation and pending mental health evaluation required.)

"When Steve brings Bucky back to the tower for the first time, Clint’s first thought is that Tony Stark’s pride and joy is quickly becoming a less of a very tall and expensive ‘fuck you’ in the faces of investors who don’t believe in self-sustaining energy, and more of a superhero rehabilitation center."

Boyfriends, compromises and learning to like oneself."

SARA HOLMES WINTERHAWK QUEEN

Way Down We Go by @clarkestetler and @goosenik

"After being attacked and forcibly separated from Eddie Brock, Venom bonds to Peter Parker in order to seek both revenge on the LIFE Foundation and any evidence of his previous host. Peter Parker isn't exactly thrilled about this turn of events and turns to the Avengers for help managing his new symbiote."

I've recently fallen into the Peter/Harry ship and this fic quickly became one of my favorites! Very domestic and sweet but also scary and also Peter having a relatively realistic reaction to suddenly being possessed by an alien tickled me.

Turning Tables by @iamallyetnotatall

"Thanos knows if he leaves Tony Stark alive, that Earth's mightiest defender will find a way to undo all of his hard work.

So when he snaps and wipes away half the universe, he ensures that Tony Stark is one of those that fade to nothing.

I.E - a what-if series of ficlets where Tony is dusted and Peter isn't. HAPPY ENDING GUARANTEED"

Very Good. Pepper and Peter and Morgan family bonding is great.

I Don't Want To Keep A Secret by DOA

"As their senior year begins, Peter Parker and Harry Osborn have a lot to figure out on their own.

Peter has his hands full with his Aunt dating again, college, potential romance, and being superhero with a secret identity that may be more trouble than it's worth. Then Harry, with a troubling father, an uncertain future, possibly unrequited love, a family secret, and an ugly green monster that he has no control over.

But what happens if their separate problems are more related than they think?"

A very cute and plotty Parksborn fic set in the Marvel's Spider-Man universe. It does have first person POV and has been incomplete for over a year which :( but I did enjoy what I read!

There you have it! Half of these fics are kind of Really Popular fics (which are popular for good reason) and fics that just happen to really personally appeal to me lmao

#marvel #spiderman #parksborn #nightsilver #avengers #stony #tony stark #peter parker #fic recs #fanfics #the burd squawks

[theskywaslookingback]

[AO3]

“Why do you even have that?”

Sasha looks up from her laptop to give Jon a quizzical look. They’ve been deep in a research hole for hours now, Jon with his files spread out before him like a buffet and Sasha picking her way through line after line of code to access things that she really shouldn’t be able to access - although, the government should have better security if it didn’t want to get hacked so she tried not to feel too badly about it. Jon’s not looking at his files now though, his gaze appears to be drawn to her shoe-box sized kitchen.

“Why do I have what?” She asks, “A kitchen?”

“No, the--” He flicks his fingers in a vague gesture to the counter, and his eyebrows pull together in a fetching little wrinkle that Sasha desperately wants to smooth away with her thumb, “the absolutely massive thing you have taking up half your kitchen.”

“Oh!” Sasha says, and then starts to laugh.

The stand mixer is large, honestly, too big to store in the meagre storage space of her cabinets and taking up half the countertop next to the stove. It’s also a garish bright red, loud against the backdrop of beige walls and a white lino countertop. She wonders why on earth Jon’s bringing this up now, they’ve been working for hours now and this certainly isn’t the first time he’s visited her flat, and decides the answer to simply be that ‘it’s Jon, he’s probably just never noticed.’

He’s fully scowling at her now, in a way she knows is defensive. He probably thinks she’s making fun of him. He can be so sensitive. “Sorry,” She says when she stops laughing long enough to speak, “I think you just caught me off guard. It was cute.”

“Cute?” Jon starts to sputter, the tips of his ears darkening and his nose wrinkling.

He is cute, Sasha thinks.

She waves it off. “It was a wedding present. That’s one of the big ones, I think, for most people. First thing I added to the registry.”

Jon couldn’t look more blind-sided if he’d been hit by a lorry. He even drops his pen, staring at her with wide eyes. “You’re married?”

Sasha snorts. “Don’t be daft. Does it look like I’m living with someone?”

Jon looks around anyway like he’s looking for evidence. “Divorced?”

“Nope.” She says, popping the ‘p’ with extra emphasis and grinning at the helpless confusion radiating from her friend.

“Then--” Jon trails off. He looks at the stand mixer again, like maybe it holds the answers he’s seeking. He looks back at her, and then down at his files. Suddenly his head jerks up and he says, “Wait, have you ever even been engaged?” He says this so seriously it tugs at Sasha’s heart. His eyes narrow like he’s caught her in some kind of trap, as though that wasn’t what she was expecting.

Sasha grins. “No.”

Jon looks at her incredulously, like he’s fitting together a bunch of puzzle pieces in his mind. It’s fun. Jon is so fun. “Sasha, did you fake an engagement just to get a stand mixer?”

“Yes!” Sasha slams her laptop shut and points at Jon, “But do not tell my great aunt that, do you understand? It took me years of work to get that stand mixer, Jon!”

Jon stares at her silently for just a moment, absolutely bewildered, before he dissolves into laughter, curling in on himself and digging his fingers into his sides. It shakes his shoulders and Sasha swears there’s tears in his eyes and before she knows it she’s laughing too, hard enough it hurts her chest and blurs her vision. To an outside viewer they must look positively loony. It takes ages for them to stop and gather themselves back together. Jon takes off his glasses to wipe tears away from his eyes while Sasha rubs at her face and tries to stop the giggles that keep bubbling up when she looks at Jon.

“God,” Jon says at last, “I haven’t laughed like that in--” he clears his throat, “anyway.”

“Yes,” Sasha agrees, “anyway.”

She looks at the clock and is both shocked and completely unsurprised that it’s after midnight.

Jon must follow her gaze because she hears him utter a quiet, “good lord.”

She’s dangerously close to laughing again.

Jon starts to shuffle his files away back into their folders. “Later than I thought.” He says.

Sasha hums in agreement, putting her laptop away and sorting her notes into neat piles. “No use trying to get home this late, you might as well just stay the night.”

“Ah,” Jon’s nose does that cute wrinkle thing again, and Sasha’s lips twitch, “that’s quite alright. I’m sure I can just find a cab.”

“Could do,” Sasha agrees, “but it’d be easier if you stayed. I’ve got an extra toothbrush and everything. Plus, tomorrow is Saturday so it’s not like we have to rush back to work or anything.”

Jon’s got all his things put back in his messenger bag, a solid olive green canvas affair that Sasha privately thinks is dreadful looking. “Wouldn’t want to spoil your weekend. I’m sure you have plans.” He’s stalling, looking for a reason not to go. Sasha wishes he’d just tell her what he wants.

She smiles, because Jon isn’t easy but she knows him and she likes him anyway, “Well, I was going to put that stand mixer to work and make myself some bread. But other than that--” She shrugs.

Jon’s eyes go once more to that bright red piece of kitchen equipment. “You make your own bread?”

“Sure. It’s cheaper and it tastes better.”

Jon makes a thoughtful noise. “Well, I suppose… that is, if it’s not too much trouble.”

“Lovely,” Sasha beams, and then adds slyly, “I’ve even got some of Tim’s things you can sleep in.”

Jon goes properly red at that and buries his face in his hands with a groan.

-

Sasha busies herself with getting her ingredients together while Jon wakes up. Before they’d become friends she’d always just kind of assumed he’d be a morning person. He had that air about him at work, sharp and alert even when she was still trying to get her head on. The truth is that while Jon has difficulties getting to sleep, he would happily sleep until mid-afternoon if she let him, so she makes sure to wake him at a decent hour and then goes back to check and make sure he hasn’t fallen back asleep. Since her flat is basically a glorified closet, and Jon sleeps on the sofa, this is not a hard task to keep an eye on.

It takes a good twenty minutes before Jon comes and sits himself down at what she generously calls a kitchen table. His hair hangs in curls around his shoulders and he impatiently pushes a hand through it where it covers his face. He’s still sleepy-eyed, the sleeves of Tim’s jumper she’d let him borrow pooling around his hands.

“Good morning.” She says with amusement.

He grunts, flopping into a rickety chair. “Coffee?” He asks.

“All out. Tea alright?”

He nods.

“Great. Kettle is over there.” She gestures vaguely to the area next to the fridge, “Tea is top cabinet.”

Jon sighs, like it’s a great effort for him to make his own tea, but offers no further complaint as he retrieves the kettle and fills it with water.

With Jon out of the way Sasha appropriates the table for more space to set out her scale and bowls. She won’t need anything too fancy today so it doesn’t take long to get set up. She hears the kettle and turns around just in time to see Jon half-way climbing onto the counter. “Jon!” She scolds, similar to the way she would her cat when she was a child.

He freezes and gives her a sheepish grin. “You said top cabinet.”

She did, and she hadn’t thought about the almost foot of height she had on Jon. She snorts and waves him down. “Grab the mugs, I’ll get the tea then.”

He grumbles something about doing it himself but obliges, plucking two mugs from the drying rack.

“Green tea alright?”

Jon makes a dismissive noise. “Black?”

“Out.”

“I’m taking you shopping after this, Sasha James, this is downright unacceptable.”

“Yeah, sure.”

She hands him the box of tea bags and he rolls his eyes at her, muttering as he fills their mugs with water.

“Do you at least have milk?”

“Yes.”

“Thank god.”

Sasha rolls her eyes and gets back to her scale, weighing out her dry ingredients.

“Why are you doing it like that?”

“By weight?”

Jon hums.

“It’s more accurate by weight than by volume, typically.”

“You can’t just, I don’t know, eye-ball it?”

“Jonathan Sims have you ever baked anything in your entire life?”

She takes the jerky shrug he gives in response as a no. She shakes her head and dumps her flour and yeast into the mixing bowl of her stand mixer. Jon hovers there at her shoulder, watching, so close she can almost feel his breath.

It gives her a wicked idea.

She reaches a hand up, like she’s checking something, and then flicks the mixer on high.

Flour explodes from the mixing bowl in a cloud of white, covering her and Jon and the countertop.

The little shriek Jon gives will stay with her for a very long time.

“Why?” He asks, mouth agape and positively covered in flour.

“Because I knew it would be funny.” Sasha says, laughing. There’s flour in her hair, and she’ll definitely need to wash her clothes, but the look in Jon’s wide eyes and the slowly blooming smile on his face is worth it.

It takes less time than she thinks to get everything clean again, and the second time she even allows Jon to help her measure ingredients and start the mixer. He’s very serious about the whole thing, watching the scale with a grim kind of determination like it would mean death if he added just a bit too much yeast to the dough, but it’s the most fun Sasha’s had in forever. By the end of the day she has enough bread to wrap a loaf up for Jon to take home, and he looks at her like she’s just given him the greatest gift he’s ever received.

“Same time next week?” She asks as she wraps his scarf around his neck.

“I suppose.” He says, ducking his head to avoid the kiss she tries to plant on his cheek. “If you’re amenable.”

“I’m amenable.” She says, and kisses the top of his head anyway.

Sasha watches him leave and Jon turns back at the end of the hallway to wave, before disappearing into the stairwell. She laughs, bright and happy, and closes the door.

#fic #my fic #jonathan sims #sasha james #days before; unwinding

[angelicamerlinbarnes]

Okay but like I feel like Diego is the kind of person to flirt with really bad pick-up lines and Klaus is just Not Having It

featuring: Diego being a flustered Mama's boy and Klaus being a disaster dumbass and the two of them being completely in love with each other anyway

DISCLAIMER: None of the pick-up lines are mine, but the responses and ensuing shenanigans are :)

(there's fifty of these so buckle up kids :) sorry not sorry <3)

seriously though some of these are really bad

#1: He A Snack

Diego: Baby, you belong in the vending machine because you’re a snack.

Klaus: Diego you know I’m claustrophobic.

Diego: Don’t you mean Klaus-trophobic??? *finger guns*

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I want a divorce.

#2: I’m From Hell

Diego: Did it hurt when you fell from heaven?

Klaus: I’m a veteran addict and abuse victim who can see ghosts, Diego.

Klaus: Everything hurts.

#3: Animal Puns

Diego: *points to TV screen playing the Discovery Channel* Hey Klaus.

Diego: You’re my otter half.

Klaus: Diego those are meerkats.

#4: Stars

Diego: The stars are beautiful tonight.

Klaus: Yup.

Diego: You know who else is beautiful?

Klaus: Ben.

#5: Get Out Your Handcuffs Mister

Diego: You’re under arrest… for stealing my heart.

Klaus: Diego you got kicked out of the police academy like five years ago, just give up.

#6: Bad Boys

Diego: *leaning against the doorframe like a moron* So. I hear you like bad boys.

Klaus: Diego you cried because you accidentally stepped on a bee last week.

Diego: Well yeah but -

Klaus: You held a funeral for it. You made us all speak. You had Allison fly in from California. It was a fucking bee, Diego.

Diego: … I wear leather?

Klaus: So does every other kid who shops at Hot Topic. You’re not special.

#7: Prince Charming

Diego: Your knight in shining armor is here -

Klaus: One, that’s a turtleneck, not armor.

Klaus: Two, you’re covered in blood. That’s the opposite of shiny.

Klaus: Three, you smell like dead fish. Go take a shower.

#8: Chemistry

Diego: Did we have a class together? Because I could’ve sworn we had -

Klaus: Chemistry? Yup. Also English and math and foreign languages and history and like every other fucking thing because we grew up in the same sadistic boarding school, Diego.

#9: The Store Can’t Just Give Away Things For Free. That’s A Terrible Way To Run A Business.

Diego: I like your pants.

Klaus: Thanks. I got them out of a dumpster. And yes, you can have them 100% off.

Diego: *voice cracks* Really?

Klaus: No.

#10: Boyfriend Material

Diego: My jeans are made of -

Klaus: You’re wearing leather pants Diego.

Diego: Okay but -

Klaus: So they’re made of leather and they’re not fucking jeans.

#11: Digits

Diego: I lost my phone number. Can I have -

Klaus: None of us have phones, Diego.

Diego: I can… buy us some?

Klaus: Fine. I want my number to be 1-420-420-4201.

Diego: Baby no.

Klaus: *pulling out the puppy dog eyes* Pwetty pwease?

Diego: Fine, but mine’s gonna be 1-696-969-6969.

Klaus: I love you so much. Marry me. Have my babies.

#12: Love At First Sight

Diego: Do you believe in love at first sight or -

Klaus: If I did I’d have already fallen in love with a lot of hot ghosts.

Diego: - should I walk by again?

Klaus: You’ve been pacing for the past ten minutes, Gogo. I think if it was gonna happen it would’ve by now.

#13: You Have Fine Written All Over You

Diego: Are you a parking ticket? Cause -

Klaus: Diego I can’t drive.

#14: His Eyes Are Green Not Blue You Dipshit

Diego: Your eyes are an ocean, and I’m lost at sea.

Klaus: ... can’t you, like, hold your breath forever?

Diego: *blinks* Baby, I love you, but you’re ruining this with our childhood trauma.

Klaus: Well since you’ve refused therapy I just thought this was the next best option.

Diego: I take back what I said about loving you.

#15: Math Is Dumb And I Wish School Would Stop Teaching It

Diego: Are you a forty-five degree angle?

Klaus: Actually, because humans have non-linear body shapes, it’s impossible for their specific angles to be measured -

Diego: Are you high or have you been defiling Five’s books again?

Klaus: *blinks* Why can’t it be both?

Diego: *rethinking life decisions*

#16: Baby I’m All Yours

Diego: Do you have a name?

Klaus: Klaus.

Diego: Or can I call you mine?

Klaus: I mean I prefer “baby”, but sure.

Diego: *super wide eyes* Really?

Klaus: *melts into a puddle of glitter* Yeah, Gogo.

#17: (Not) Bookworms

Diego: Thank god I brought my library card. Cause I’m here to check you out.

Klaus: *through a mouthful of waffles* God isn’t real. We all die and rot beneath the earth to be eaten by maggots. There is no such thing as a higher power.

Klaus: *swallows waffles and takes a really loud slurp of an orange juice and chocolate milk combo*

Klaus: Oh, and the library’s closed for renovations til, like, Christmas so you’re outta luck, sorry.

Diego: I thought you met god? Little girl on a bicycle?

Klaus: Her? Nah, only Satan’s got that much sass. Plus, that wasn’t heaven.

Diego: And you know this how?

Klaus: *squishes Diego’s face with both hands* Think about it. Do you really think dear ol’ dad’s in heaven?

Diego: Can you let of my face please?

#18: Bad Move, Buddy

Diego: Are you a pre-historic fossil? Cause you’re my missing link.

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you just call me old?

Diego, backing out of the room slowly: What? No! No of course not! No, obviously no, absolutely not -

Klaus: *releases savage war cry*

Diego: *runs for his goddamn life*

#19: I Rate This 0/10

Diego: Are you from Tennessee? Cause you’re the only -

Klaus: I don’t know where I’m from. I’m an orphan.

Diego: Oh… I know, baby -

Klaus: And the piece of shit that adopted me lived in New York anyway. We’re in New York right now actually. Do you need a geography lesson? I think Pogo’s got a map -

Diego: Klaus.

#20: Oh Shit

Diego: If nothing lasts forever, will you be my nothing?

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus: *tears up* I’m nothing?

Diego: Oh no. No no no. No, baby, you’re not nothing, don’t cry, I’m so sorry, that’s not what I meant, baby - oh my god please don’t cry -

#21: You’ve Got Everything I’m Searching For

Diego: Is your name Google? Because -

Klaus: Diego. For the last time…

Klaus: My name is Kimberly Linda Aerealia Ulysses Saffron Hargreeves the Twenty-Fourth. I don’t know why I need to keep explaining this to you -

Diego, kissing him quiet: You’re my favorite person in the world, you know that?

#22: Don’t Make Bets You’ll Lose, Luther.

Diego: Luther bet me a hundred bucks I couldn’t talk to the prettiest person here. How do you wanna spend his money?

Klaus: Drugs.

Diego: Baby -

Klaus: *beams* Nah, I’m just kidding. Stuffed giraffes.

Diego: *grins* For Five?

Klaus: *nods* For Five.

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego: He’ll hate them.

Klaus: Exactly. Let’s go.

#23: Deja Vu

Diego: Have we met before?

Klaus: Yes. Obviously. Are you also high?

Diego: No -

Diego: Wait, you’re high?

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: No?

#24: Such An Optimist

Diego: Are you a time traveller?

Klaus: No, that’s Five.

Diego: Cause I think you’re my future!

Klaus: *stares blankly*

Diego: No? Nothing? Nada?

Klaus: In the future we’re all dead dipshit.

Klaus: Because. Ya know.

Klaus: THERE’S A FUCKING APOCALYPSE COMING.

Diego:

Diego: Okay then.

#25: Please Go To The Hospital.

Diego: Are you my appendix? Cause my stomach’s fluttering and I think I should take you out.

Klaus:

Klaus: Did you drink water from the fish tank again?

Diego: *turning green* Luther dared me to okay???!!!!

#26: Suicidal Tendencies

Diego: Hey gorgeous -

Klaus: Let me guess. I should drop dead?

Diego: What?! No! Baby -

#27: Infinitely On The Naughty List (And Not The Good Kind Of Naughty List (If There Is One I’m Asexual I Don’t Know))

Diego: Are you Santa Klaus? Cause you make all my wishes come true.

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus: You have five seconds to run.

Diego: *already two streets away* Fucking shit -

#28: You Can’t Use That Every Time We Have An Argument, Tony.

Diego: Kiss me if I’m wrong, but dinosaurs still exist right?

Klaus: I mean, there’s one in the corner of our living room right now, so I guess?

Diego:

Diego:

Diego:

Diego: *squeaks* You - you can see dinosaur ghosts?

Klaus: I mean, there’s a chance that thing Ben’s petting is just a super deformed ostrich, but yeah, I think so.

Diego:

Diego:

Diego:

Diego: *tearing up* That’s so cool.

#29: A Whole New Kind Of Thirst Trap

Diego: I’m thirsty. But guess whose body is 75% water?

Diego: *smirks*

Klaus: *frowns*

Klaus: Hold on, I know this one…

Diego: Klaus -

Klaus: *snaps fingers* Oh, I know! Luther!

Diego: *horrified* What the fuck Klaus why the fuck would you say that -

#30: What A Tragedy

Diego: You must be a campfire. Because you’re super hot and I want s’more.

Klaus:

Klaus: Diego sweetheart, you’re allergic to marshmallows.

Diego: *tearing up* I know.

Klaus: You wanna hug, baby?

Diego: *crying* Yes please.

#31: That Can’t Be Allowed

Diego: Don’t tell me if you want me to take you out to dinner. Just smile for yes, or do a backflip/somersault/counter-spin gymnastics combination for no.

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: *does a triple flip and lands perfectly on the top of the bar counter*

Diego: *turns bright red* That was h-h-hot.

Klaus: *beams and jumps down into Diego’s arms bridal-style*

Klaus: *kisses his cheek* I know, baby.

#32: Merry Christmas

Diego: You’re the reason Santa started the Naughty List.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: *pouts*

Klaus: No fair! He told me last week I was on the Nice List!

Diego: What? Klaus? What does that -

Diego: OH MY GOD KLAUS IS SANTA DEAD???!!!!

#33: I’ll Keep You Safe, Honey.

Diego: I lost my teddy bear. Will you sleep with me instead?

Klaus: *pulls out a stuffed tiger*

Klaus: He got lost in the kitchen. Don’t worry, I rescued him for you.

Diego: *takes soft tiger*

Diego: *voice cracks* Oh. Thanks.

Klaus: *kisses his forehead* You’re welcome, baby.

#34: Excuse Me?

Diego: The only thing your eyes haven’t told me is your name.

Klaus, internally: Shit. What if he finds out I stole like five of his knives and all of the cookies last week?

Klaus, externally: *blinks*

Klaus: Um… Stefonopolis?

#35: I Am Not Apologizing For This One

Diego: If you were a steak, you’d be well done.

Klaus: But I’m so unique…

Klaus: I talk to the dead, Diego.

Diego: Okay…?

Klaus: *smirks*

Klaus: So wouldn’t I be medium rare?

Ben: Ooooooooooooooooohhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

#36: Leonardo Da Vinci Was Arrested Multiple Times For Homosexual Activity.

Diego: Is this a museum? Cause you’re a work of art.

Klaus: *dancing to the soundtrack of High School Musical 3* Actually Five took me back to Italy once. Leonardo da Vinci and I had some fun.

Diego:

Diego: Oh my god. Seriously?

Diego: *looks up picture of Mona Lisa, now titled Mona Klausa*

Diego: How the fuck -

#37: Why Would You Say That Though

Diego: Am I sleepwalking? Cause I’ve only seen you in my dreams.

Klaus: *sitting on the counter and eating a donut in one bite* Are they dirty?

Luther: *chokes on a pickle*

Diego: Oh my god no -

Diego: Well sometimes -

Diego: I mean no of course not -

Luther: *praying to whoever’s up there to just kill him already*

#38: Be Safe Kids!

Diego: Can you hold this for me?

Klaus: Sweetie, you need to wash your hands.

#39: Apocalypse Averted!

Diego: If looks could kill, you’d be a weapon of mass destruction.

Klaus: *blinks*

Klaus: I thought that was Vanya.

Diego:

Diego, panicking: Holy shit Klaus you can’t just say things like that -

Vanya: *crying from laughter*

#40: Attractive

Diego: Do you swallow magnets? Because you’re -

Klaus: *shoves him up against the wall*

Klaus: How did you find out? Who told you? Was it Ben? I swear to god I’ll kill him -

Diego: *squeaks* What?

#41: First You’ve Gotta Propose Diego

Diego: Wouldn’t we look cute on a wedding cake together?

Klaus: Diego. Did you buy me a cake?

Diego:

Klaus:

Diego:

Klaus: I’m waiting.

Diego: Right sir yes sir right away sir -

#42: He May Not Be A Kitten But He Is As Soft As One

Diego: If I followed you home, would you keep me?

Klaus: I’m homeless, Diego.

Diego: What? You are? Oh no, baby - you can come stay with me?

Klaus: *looks up from Disney Princess coloring book and raises an eyebrow* Is your bed available?

Diego, blushing: Ye-yeah, b-ba-baby. Whe-whenever you-u w-want.

Klaus: *smiles*

Klaus: *takes Diego’s hand*

Klaus: Okay.

Diego: *dies a little bit inside (in a good way)*

#43: It’s Just You.

Diego: Is it hot in here or is it just you?

Klaus, blushing: I -

Five: DIEGO. THE HOUSE IS ON FIRE. NOW IS NOT THE TIME.

#44: ‘Scuse Me, Mate?

Diego: You know, penguins mate for life. Wanna be my penguin?

Klaus: Eh. I’ve always been more of an iguana man.

Diego:

Diego:

Diego:

Diego: What?

#45: You Look Like… Antonio Banderas With The Long Hair.

Diego: How’s the most beautiful person in the world doing today?

Klaus: *buried in a Vogue magazine* I don’t know I’m not Antonio Banderas.

#46: What The Fuck Klaus

Diego: Do you have a map? I keep getting lost in your eyes.

Klaus: *hands him a Candyland board* Here. I stole it from Pogo.

#47: You Dumbass

Diego: I hate my last name. Can I borrow yours?

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus:

Klaus: We have the same last name, Diego.

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: Fuck you’re right -

#48: Okay But Diego Would Make A Great Aladdin Though

Diego: I’m not a genie, but I can still make your dreams come true.

Klaus: *wrinkles his nose*

Klaus: You can get me a pink elephant with jaundice?

Diego: *blinks*

Diego: What the fuck Klaus -

#49: HELLO

Diego: Is that a knife or are you just happy to see me?

Klaus: I don’t just have random knives on me Diego, I’m not you.

Diego: So you are happy to see me?

Klaus: I mean you just interrupted a very riveting episode of Sesame Street, so… we’ll see.

#50: It’s Always Best To Start With The Truth.

Diego: I love you.

Klaus: *beams* That’s all you had to say, darling.

#i'm sorry #oh who am i kidding no i'm not #kliego #klaus hargreeves #diego hargreeves #terrible pick up lines #like #REALLY terrible #tua #the umbrella academy #the hargreeves #and appearances from: #(!!!) #luther hargreeves #five hargreeves #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #lucky for her allison avoided all this bullshit #good for her #fluff #funny #i tried #i hope i made at least some of you smile :) #have a nice day y'all #i love you <3

[badass-at-fandoming]

I've read some of your tags that you wanted to redo the Vampire The Masquerade lore so that it's not so grimdark bleak all the time. What sort of ideas are floating in your head?

OOF, you be diggingggggg. I post a lot of nonsense. 😂🥰 

I’m going to be That ™️ Brujah ™️ Bitch ™️  here and say my main goal would be to make Vampire: the Masquerade not just disapproving of players being racist, homophobic, ableist etc, but have the lore be actively hostile to it. Grimedark stories are not for me, but some people like them. I’d want to erase elements that make tabletop campaigns needlessly harmful to the players and Storyteller. As a white woman, I think my biggest goal with re-tooling the lore would be to hire black, indigenous, and other people of color to re-tool it.

For example, the Gehenna Crusade in the Middle East. My God, those v5 lore bits were painful to read and I’m not even Asian or Muslim. I’d hire a group of people from Syria, Iraq, Afghanistan--heck, Iranian, Israeli, and Palestinian writers would be amazing--to formulate the undead view on the atrocity that is the War on Terror. I thought Night Road touched on a interesting point with the concentration camp and Catholic hospital chapter: the horrors humanity creates are far, far worse than any Elder could do. Humans are set to destroy the world, more so than any magical creature. The question is not “will bad things happen?” so much as “how will I react to the bad things around me?”

Other ideas:

Moving the v5 section on content warnings and respectful playing to the front of the book. Read about how every fascist character MUST die or be reformed. That’s literally a rule.

A more careful analysis/explanation of NPC motivation. Let there be specific reasons Kindred do to not band together. It’s not arbitrary Backstabby Disease. There’s a reason why such-and-such hates so-and-so. “Power” is too nebulous a motivation and used too often to pit Kindred against each other. What type of power do they want and why? If they got it, what would they do with it? What is preventing 90% of Kindred getting along and hosting Neftlix parties, is what I’m saying.

handing over the Ravnos lore to writers and game devs who are Roma and/or Travelers, and putting in huge ass, lime green letters that “If you have the Ravnos be Roma or Travelers, you are playing the game incorrectly!” Because, my goodest dudes, I am le tired. Even though the Ravnos have been soft-revamped a couple times now, fans are still using their super harmful origin.

More environmentalism and combating climate change, with crossover to Werewolf: the Apocalypse. This ties in with the “humans are causing an apocalypse better than vampires ever do/did” theme.

In general, more of the different magic species interacting. They all inhabit one world, one globe! They all have a vested interest in protecting the earth!

It’s been beaten to death on here, but divorcing the concept of liking sex and/or having sex etc with the Humanity mechanic

In general, just let the vampires be sexy

Hire indigenous writers to write their own vampires (if that’s the term they’d want to use) for their tribe. The whole narrative that the Americas were empty of supernatural beings is like. No.

Shift to a more international focus with the “By Night” books. The USA, unfortunately, exists, and I think we’ve heard enough about it. What about By Night books set in South America? Written by indigenous folks there? And other folks of color? I’d love Cassandra Khaw and a team of Chinese writers to be hired to re-do the Kuei-jin, and for the many, many talented African fantasy writers to re-do the Laibon. Lagos by Night anyone?

Give the Anarch cause more specificity. You’re telling me that the Anarchs don’t have a constitution? In the year of our Lord 2021??? No Bill of Rights? No judicial system? No social programs or schools?? No democracy?? Like!!!! Have them keep up with the progressiveness of the time we’re living in. It’s been proven over and over and over that true anarchy is not sustainable.

This turned into more of a “what would I do with v5″ sort of thing, but here we are. If you wanted to ask about a specific tag or post, let me know. Thanks for the ask!

#ask #rayshell22livejournalcom #text post #my vtm nonsense #vtm #vampire the masquerade #v5 #I'm feeling very brujah in this chili's tonight #lol

[urnooboo]

LIFELINES AND LEGACIES - A D&D inspired TS4 Legacy Challenge

By me, @urnooboo!

Even though I’m not active, I wanted to start another legacy challenge, but I didn’t want to do a normal one. Since my friends and I play D&D and love it, why not take inspiration from there? And so here is the culmination of that little brainstorm! It’s my first time making a challenge like this, so hopefully it won’t be that bad. :D It’s a legacy challenge based on the Dungeons and Dragons classes!

If you want to try this challenge out, please use the tags #L&L challenge or #ts4 L&L ! I’d really appreciate it if anyone tries this out just for fun! 

Bit of a warning, this challenge gets a bit chaotic in the middle because...honestly, I dunno,,,,

Rules and requirements under the cut!!

Pack Requirements: All the EPs and GPs except for Star Wars (ew), but you can always skip some requirements if you don’t have the packs for them

You can choose to do this on normal lifespan, but playing on long is allowed too.

So, how do you want to do this?

GENERATION 1: Fighter

You don’t have much right now, but you’re determined to build yourself from the ground up and start a family. You have a strong will to fight when needed and you’re quite athletic. You don’t have to be completely alone at the start of this journey, however, and a long time best friend of yours can be part of your party.

RULES:

Must have Active trait

Fight/”Friendly Spar” with at least 3 different sims and 1 occult sim

Complete Successful Lineage aspiration

Starting funds must be less than 20,000 simoleons after buying a house

Get a job in either the Fitness career or the Military career

OPTIONAL: Can have another sim in the household when starting out, and must be friends with them. They can be your family, childhood friend,existing lover, or just some random roommate. (Also yes, you’re allowed to romance them. Unless if they’re your family, yikes)

GENERATION 2: Druid

Your family may not have had the best financial state starting out, but you don’t let things like money phase you. You’ve always loved nature and going out, and dreamed of wanting to do more for the environment as an adult. You like to take things a bit slowly, and love to lounge around. 

RULES:

Must have Vegetarian, Lazy, and Loves Outdoors traits

Lot must be off-the-grid

Have a green eco footprint

Marry in adulthood instead of young adulthood

Meet and become friends with the hermit in Granite Falls

Max out the Gardening skill and grow your own food

Optional: You must only have one lover and you must woo them with bees

GENERATION 3: Artificer

You’re dissatisfied at how your family lounges around most of the time, and you’re quite the workaholic compared to them. Your career is your life, and you happen to be both ambitious and gifted. Though you love your child but you have absolutely no idea how to be a parent. So you might end up being a bit of a helicopter parent… 

RULES:

Must have Ambitious and Genius traits

Graduate college on a scholarship

Get a job in the Scientist career

Have at least level 6 Robotics skill

Have only one child, born from a one night stand/fling

Never get married

Only do strict parenting interactions with your child

OPTIONAL: Complete the element collection

GENERATION 4: Wizard

You grew up in a house with high expectations, and always wanted to please your family. You worked hard in your studies and in the end- it paid off. But at the cost of you not having much of a social life. However, that really isn’t your priority. Instead, you chose to start learning the magic arts, enthralled by its mystic ways. You were always good at school, so why not start getting good at magic now? As long as you put your mind to it, it shouldn’t be that hard...right? 

RULES:

Must have Perfectionist and Loner traits

Have less than 5 friends

Must finish Whiz Kid child aspiration

Become an “A” student in both grade school and high school

Must have “Responsible” trait when you reach Young Adulthood (via high responsibility value)

Graduate college with a distinguished degree

Become a spellcaster

OPTIONAL: Take the teaching or doctor career

GENERATION 5: Sorcerer

You were born with a magical bloodline, and you love to show it off. You want the whole world to see that you’re a cool prodigal spellcaster. You’re the complete opposite of your parent; loud, outgoing, quick to make friends. You’ve even developed a knack for acting in order to impress people, and you dream of becoming a famous star in order to show those who wronged you before that you’re the best thing on earth. 

RULES:

Must have Self-Absorbed and Erratic trait

Must have weak bloodline trait from parent and become a spellcaster

Reach the Adept, Master, or Virtuoso rank 

Become at least a B-Lister

Get to level 7 of the Actor career

Have some sort of rival

Must have “Good Manners” trait when reaching Young Adulthood (via high manners value)

Must have good reputation

Optional: Be the leader of a popular club and have the Insider trait

GENERATION 6: Bard

You’ve got it all. Rich and famous family, a magical bloodline, musical skill, lots of friends...but something inside you just feels...missing. Thanks to this, you started going around looking for lovers, carelessly tossing aside those who happened to not meet your indecisive standards. It would probably take you years before you calm down and settle with someone you truly care about, but all the heartbreak you’ve caused before that is quite impressive, to say the least. 

RULES:

Must have Romantic, Music Lover and Non-Committal traits

This sim has to be the hottest generation. Go all out yo!!!!

Must have strong bloodline trait but cannot be a spellcaster

Complete the Serial Romantic Aspiration

Work in the Entertainer career as a musician

Have as many affairs as you want and have illegitimate kids BUT…

Your heir must be the result of an affair with an occult sim that isn’t a spellcaster. See rules for next generation below

OPTIONAL: Only get married in late adulthood or elder life stage. You can’t have kids with this person.

GENERATION 7: Warlock

You never really had a close relationship with your “famous” parent, and spent more time with your occult family, making you pretty close with each other. Your half siblings don’t like you because you inherited a part of your famous parent’s fortune, despite being...you know...a paranormal freak? To get around this, you developed quite a skillful tongue, and you know your way around words. Now you’re looking for someone to get some more money from... 

RULES:

Must have bloodline trait AND be part of an occult race that isn't a spellcaster. Like, you could be a mermaid, vampire, or alien with the bloodline trait, or even a half alien or half vampire.

Have a high relationship with your occult parent

Reach level 10 charisma skill and get yourself a sugar daddy/mommy. :D

Now, your path for this generation will differ depending on whether your parent is an alien, vampire, or mermaid, and is based on some of the D&D warlock patrons. However, this divergence is completely optional. and you can just focus on finding a sugar daddy/mommy only

ALIEN PARENT (Great Old One patron) You can be either a full alien or half alien for this one.

Get a job in the Astronaut career and visit Sixam

Max out your Logic skill

If you’re a full alien, memory wipe at least one person who you had a high relationship with if they find out you’re an alien.

Must have Insensitive trait when you reach Young Adulthood (comes from having low empathy)

VAMPIRE PARENT (Undying patron) You can be either a full vampire or half-vampire for this one.

Max out your vampire lore skill

Own a cowplant for as long as possible

If full vampire, turn at least one person into a vampire

Become friends with the Grim Reaper, by any means necessary :)

MERMAID PARENT (Kraken/Lurker in the Deep patron) (UA) You can only be a full mermaid for this one.

Max out your fishing skill

Try to have one child with Sulani Mana trait

Collect 5 rare fishes

Die from polar bear plunge (jumping into a pool outside when it’s freezing cold)

GENERATION 8: Cleric

The generation before was…chaotic, to say the least. You may have occult blood in you but you’re gonna try to set things straight for future generations. How are you gonna do that? BY GETTING RICH, OF COURSE! SPREAD THE WORD OF CAPITALISM AROUND BY STARTING YOUR OWN RETAIL STORE! Or a restaurant, that works too. The most prominent thing that you’ve inherited from your parents is your love of money, and you’re constantly coming up with schemes to get more. Gods may not exist in The Sims, but you might as well worship something that’s powerful. And money is power.

RULES: 

Must have Materialistic trait

Have a job in the Business career, Politics career, or Civil Designer career (Civic Planner) and bop bop bop, bop to the top

Own at least one retail store/restaurant with a rating of at least three stars

Complete the Fabulously Wealthy Aspiration

Eventually move to a penthouse OR one of the big apartments in the business district in San Myshuno

Have only one child

Fall in love with someone from work, then divorce them after having a fight

GENERATION 9: Paladin

Despite the unique circumstances that happened before your birth, you grew up...pretty normal. There’s not much to say about you since your magical bloodline and occult genes are probably dwindling from here, and sooner or later your family legacy will go back to being humans. You’ve always wanted to protect this world and be the one to bring justice to it, so you take up a job in the police force. You and your lover unfortunately had a kid, and even though your lover may have wanted it deep down you actually hate kids. You’ve heard about strange events going on in a town called Strangerville, and you’ve been itching to investigate… 

RULES:

Must be close with Generation 8 sim

Must have Hates Children trait

Have a job in the Police career

Complete the Strangerville Aspiration and become the Hero of Strangerville

Have the “Mediator” trait when reaching Young Adulthood (from high conflict resolution)

Stay in the penthouse/apartment your parent got

OPTIONAL: Complete the “Rambunctious Scamp” child aspiration and get “Physically Gifted” trait

GENERATION 10: Rogue

Ironically, despite your upbringing, you ended up becoming a deviant that has constant run-ins with the law. Your relationship with your family isn’t great, but you’re determined to make a name for yourself as a slippery troublemaker. Your true dream however, is to find your one true lover, since you’re a secret hopeless romantic. Your flirting skills are laughable though, and you tense up whenever you have to do something romantic. How are you gonna find love like this? 

RULES:

Have bad relationship with Generation 9 sim

Must have Kleptomaniac, Gloomy, and Unflirty traits

Reach the top of the criminal career

Complete both the Soulmate aspiration

Whenever you visit another sim’s lot, steal something from their house

Have up to two exes before finally settling on the one you wanna marry

Get friendzoned at least once

Move out of your parents’ penthouse/apartment and into a small 20x15 lot

OPTIONAL: Have negative reputation

OPTIONAL: Be BFFs with your other parent

You can end the challenge here, but there are still some more D&D classes left to do, so here they are, the optional generations!

GENERATION 11: Barbarian

You take after your parent a lot, and you’re skilled in making people absolutely hate you. Your emotions are just as stable as Philippine wifi, and you have this terrible habit of getting into fights a lot. But just because people don’t like you doesn’t mean you can’t go out and have fun. In fact, you’re quite infamous for going out to parties and starting bar fights. 

RULES:

Must have Hot-headed and Mean traits

Must have “Uncontrolled Emotions” trait when aging up into Young Adulthood (from low emotional control)

Fight as many people as possible, make lots of enemies

Throw a lot of parties and go to lots of bar nights and events

Complete Public Enemy aspiration

OPTIONAL: Die from cardiac arrest

GENERATION 12: Monk

For someone with a public nuisance for a parent, you’re pretty chill. You love to make stuff, and your way of life is quite tranquil, to say the least. You’re handy and artistic, and love to do things yourself, even if it does give off the impression that you’re super cheap. You’ve always got a gift for someone during christmas, and your inventory is full of stuff that you’ve made, or components to make stuff with. The world is cool with you, and you’re cool with the world. You’re not the type of person who could hold down a regular job though...

RULES:

Max out the Wellness skill

Must have Maker trait

Be at least level 4 in the all following skills: Handiness, Fabrication, Painting, Writing, Flower Arranging, and any instrument skill. (Also Knitting, if you have it)

Always change jobs when you reach level 4 in them, and your only truly stable source of income is from selling the stuff you’ve made

Live on an off-the-grid lot, preferably somewhere near the water or near a forest

Have twins for kids and only those twins (you can cheat to get this ahhaha)

Elope only, cause weddings aint your style

Explore Selvadorada with your family at least once

GENERATION 13: Ranger

After you and your family went on a vacation to Selvadorada, you decided that you’d travel the world, no matter what! Your twin sibling was originally gonna help you complete this dream, but unfortunately they died due to mysterious circumstances. While you mourned away your sorrows, you came across a stray animal that reminded you of your late sibling and decided to take it in. Once you got yourself together out of your slump, you decided to pack your bags and start travelling around the world for realsies.

RULES: 

Be BFFs with your twin

Twin sibling must die during their teenage/early young adult years

Adopt at least one pet after that (yeah, you can have more)

Complete Friend of the Animals aspiration

Visit all the vacation worlds at least once in your lifetime

Discover all the secret lots except Sixam

Visit at least one lot in each normal world with your pet

Move household at least once

Don’t have children

And that’s it! I hope you guys enjoy this challenge!! I’ll try to play this too, though I might be even more inactive since school is finally starting hnnng you guys are free to tweak some requirements to better suit your gameplay so just have fun and enjoy!!!

#ts4 L&L #L&L challenge #ts4 legacy challenge #sims 4 legacy challenge #the sims 4 legacy challenge #legacy challenge #ts4 challenge #sims 4 challenge #ts4 legacy #sims 4 legacy #s4 legacy #s4 legacy challenge #legacy gameplay #ts4 challenge prompt #ts4 prompt

[jlalafics]

Ok so you just wrote me a gorgeous drabble and here I am wanting more, bc you’re just too good. On my way to the gym this morning I almost crashed my car bc I saw sexy construction workers and was wondering if sometime in the future you would maybe consider ConstructionWorker!Peeta? Maybe Katniss almost crashed her car staring at that ass? Lol sorry for being so needy... 😘

I hope you enjoy @mrspeetamellark, trying to think up a story title and story cover concept right now because I’m liking this Everlark so much.

Thanks for the prompt, doll! <3

_____

“Yes, move that meeting to the afternoon,” Katniss told her sister. “Snow wants to meet about the Gilmore divorce proceedings.”

“Got it,” Prim replied from the speakers of the car. “Where are you?”

“Just turning onto our block,” she informed her. “It looks like they’re finally renovating the building next to the office…”

Katniss’ eyes were suddenly drawn to a figure standing out against the rest of the men gathered at the site. He was leaning against one of the wood slats that surrounded the property, blond and broad wearing a fitted white t-shirt.

Suddenly, his eyes drew up to meet hers.

Azure blue greeted her own steel ones, the man’s mouth widening into a smile, his expression warm and sweet.

Before morphing into panic—

“Holy fuck!”

Katniss swerved just in time to avoid a squirrel crossing the street and just barely maneuvering her car from crashing into a tree. She managed to save face, making the turn into her office’s parking garage and then into her assigned space.

“Are you alright?” Prim called out. “For a moment there, I thought I lost you.”

Katniss turned off the engine, taking in a calming breath.

“I’m fine. I’ll be up in a minute,” she responded before hanging up.

This is what she got for even looking at a man. It was a sign from the gods telling her to focus on work and not on her lack of a social life.

Too bad, though. The man was awfully cute.

++++++

“Peeta!” Turning, Peeta found Finnick—one of the other construction workers and his childhood friend—heading towards him. “Your dad said that we could take our lunches now.”

“Fine with me,” Peeta agreed, pulling off his construction helmet and tucking it under his arm.

The two headed down the street, grabbing some sandwiches from a nearby deli before heading back.

“So,” Finnick began, as they sat down at the tables set-up in front on the construction site. “I saw that your lady almost damn near crashed into a tree this morning.”

“She isn’t my lady,” Peeta muttered, unwrapping his sandwich to avoid his friend’s teasing eyes. “She’s just a beautiful woman who I happen to admire—who would never look at someone like me.”

“She did notice!” his friend exclaimed. “That close call happened because she was looking at you. Maybe you should go over to her office building and introduce yourself, ask if she’s okay—”

“No, no, no…” Peeta shook his head. “She’s high class and I am…me.”

“Peeta—” Finnick looked to him in concern. “You are a good guy. Stop being so hard on yourself. Just because one woman couldn’t look past your circumstances, doesn’t mean they all will.” His friend’s sea-green eyes darted behind him. “In fact, I’m going to help you out—”

Sticking his middle and index fingers into his mouth, Finnick let out a loud whistle.

“What are you doing?” Peeta asked in confusion.

His friend ignored him, looking behind Peeta and pointing at him.

Then, he was being yanked by the forearm from his seat and being slammed against one of the wood slats of their construction site.

Up close, her eyes were smoky and full of fire—because she was pissed.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” she demanded. “I am not the kind of woman who needs to get whistled at to feel like she’s hot. In fact, it’s downright demeaning! If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was introduce yourself like a normal person—”

“Wait!” She stepped back, but her grip on the front of Peeta’s shirt didn’t let up. “I never whistled at you. It was my friend; the idiot with the red hair who is currently trying to skulk back into our construction site, so you won’t manhandle him like you’re doing to me.”

The woman turned just in time to see Finnick guiltily rush into the construction site.

She immediately released her grasp, her olive complexion flushing scarlet.

“Oh. I’m sorry.” The woman let out a nervous laugh. “It’s just been a hell of a day so far. I almost crashed my car this morning—” Her grey eyes widened. “It’s you!”

He held out his hand to her. “Peeta Mellark.”

She took it and Peeta let his thumb brush against her rich skin. “Katniss Everdeen.”

“Now that we’ve officially met,” he started. “Are you okay? It was a close call this morning.”

“I’m fine,” she assured him. “It’s just been so busy with meetings and I have to go grab lunch—”

“Split my sandwich with me,” he offered. Peeta nodded at the still wrapped sandwich on the now empty table. “Or I’m pretty sure there are few birds that would be happy to take your half.”

Katniss flushed. “You sure?”

“I insist.” He led her towards the table, pulling out a chair for her. After sitting, he pulled one of the wrapped pieces out and handed it to her. “Turkey and provolone, no tomatoes.”

“That is my exact order at Sae’s Deli!” Katniss said as she unwrapped her half.

Peeta grinned. “It’s where I got it.”

“So—” She placed her sandwich down and turned to him. Peeta examined her, perfect posture, a heart-shaped face, and smooth shoulder-length waves greeted his appreciative eyes. “—why did your friend whistle at me?”

Peeta let out a breath.

“The first time I came by to examine this construction site, you came to your office,” he explained. “You were wearing a red romper and your hair was in a braid. You were about the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. Ever since, I guess I just looked out for you. Finnick just happened to notice and thought he could help things along…”

Peeta waited for her to recoil or grimace. It sounded pathetic, the way he always made sure to look out for her black BMW in the mornings. However, to him, it was just not a good day if he didn’t see her lovely face, even if it was just through her car window.

“Did you want to have dinner?”

He turned to her, his jaw dropping. “What?”

Katniss blushed, her eyes going to her lap.

“I think you’re cute and I almost crashed my car looking at you,” she revealed slowly. “And it seems like a sign that we should look into whatever this is. Also—” Her eyes met his, glowing brightly. “No one has ever called me beautiful.”

“I find that hard to believe,” he said softly. “I would love to have dinner with you. You have to let me pay, though.”

“Is that some sort of manly-man bullshit?” she retorted with a grin.

“No, my mother would kill me if she found out that I didn’t pay on the first date,” Peeta explained. “She’d think that it would be a horrible start to our epic love story.”

“I like your mom already,” Katniss told him. “How’s six sound?”

“Perfect.”

“Katniss!”

They turned to find a pretty blonde and a dark-haired woman with a squared gaze approaching.

“My sister and one of my associates,” Katniss told him. She reached into her pocket, pulling out a small case and taking out a business card. “My cell number is on it—text me when you can, and we can go over details for tonight.”

“Sure,” he replied in a daze.

Taking her sandwich—they both had foregone eating—Katniss stood, but not before pressing a kiss to his cheek and giving him a breathtaking smile.

“I’m looking forward to tonight.”

+++++++

Over texts, Katniss and Peeta decided to meet at an Italian restaurant close to her apartment.

“I can’t believe you asked that guy out!” Johanna, her roommate and one of the other lawyers in the firm, said from her seat on Katniss’ bed. “You, who won’t even agree to coffee when any other man offers, asked a construction worker out to dinner.”

“He’s not just a construction worker,” Katniss protested. “He’s Peeta Mellark, a guy who I think is really nice and easy to talk to—”

“And let’s not forget the ass,” came a shout from Prim, who was searching in Katniss’ walk-in closet. “Don’t act like you weren’t looking at it when he got up to go back to work, Katniss.” Prim stepped into her bedroom, holding a deep-purple dress with a v-neckline and three-quarter sleeves. “I knew you tried to hide my birthday present! Put this on so he can rip it off you.”

Katniss scowled at her. “Who taught you to talk like that?”

“You did,” Prim retorted with a cheeky grin. “Now, go and get ready. I’ll lay out some underthings for you.”

Katniss headed towards her bathroom.

“Prim, I’m not sure how long it’s been since anyone’s been down there,” Johanna quipped. “You might want to pick something that covers that jungle.”

“I’m on it,” her sister replied as Katniss was about to close the door. “Tonight, we’re just emphasizing her boobs.”

“Good luck with that,” her friend retorted.

++++++

Their dinner was going surprisingly well.

Katniss hadn’t been on a date for almost a year and she had worried over the thought as she walked over to the restaurant

That was until she saw him.

Peeta cleaned up nicely, meeting her in a dark green sweater, fitted jeans, and brown oxfords. In his hand was a single pink peony, which he held out to her after kissing her cheek in greeting.

They both settled at their table, ordering quickly (eggplant parmigiana for her and lasagna for him) before falling right into easy conversation.

Peeta’s family owned the construction company that he worked for though, he was the only family member who worked onsite besides his father. Peeta’s mother worked at the home office as the company’s administrator. He had two brothers, one of which owned his own bakery business and ran it with his wife who had been his high school sweetheart.

“I think you’d like Delly,” he told her. “She’s very down-to-earth which works out perfectly because Rye is all sorts of insane. He’s the kind of guy who will wake up in the middle of the night to make the perfect chocolate cake. Luckily enough, Delly is the kind of girl who will stay up and write out everything he’s done because he’s forgotten by morning.”

“And, your other brother?”

“Runs a small hotel upstate. It’s the perfect place for Christmas,” Peeta said. “Andy and his partner Gale turned the place into one of the top hotels to experience wintertime. It does help that they both have a great sense of style.”

“So, your brother is—”

“Gay as the day is long as he would put it.” Peeta grinned. “He and Gale have been together forever. They’re one of the most stable couples I know.” He met her eyes. “How about you?”

“I grew up about an hour out of the city. My parents were high school sweethearts, married right out of high school. Had me about a year after their wedding and four years after me, Prim was born.”

Katniss stopped for a moment, taking a long sip. This part was always the hardest to explain.

“My father passed away when I was six and Prim was two,” she continued. “My mom brought us here to the city to stay with my Uncle Haymitch while she got back on her feet and find a job. We woke up the next day after arriving at his place and she was gone.”

“Oh God, Katniss—” Peeta reached over, covering her hand with his. “—I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t feel sorry for us. It was probably the best thing she could have done for us,” Katniss told him, her voice still a little thick. She gave him a wet smile. “Feel bad for my Uncle—single guy in his prime having to take on two young girls. Did you know when I got my period, he bought five different types of pads? I know, too much information—”

“I like learning about you, Katniss,” he told her. “Every little bit I’ve learned, I like.”

“I feel the same way.”

It was true. Everything she learned about man before her had only compounded the growing feelings inside her. Peeta was breath of fresh air in her staid routine and every bit of time with him made her feel like she was slowly coming back to life.

Peeta squeezed her hand, she didn’t realize their hands were still pressed together—but she didn’t mind it.

“Go on,” he urged with an eager smile. “Tell me more.”

“When I was in sixth grade, my uncle came for a parent-teacher conference and met my teacher, Effie Trinket. A year later, he married her. She’s great, got me through those tough girl years. She and my Uncle are disgustingly in love.” She snorted, taking a long sip of water. “That’s my odd little family.”

“Have you heard from your mom?” Peeta asked curiously.

Katniss shook her head.

“I don’t have a real desire to. I’m not mad at her anymore, but I can’t say I’d be thrilled to see her again. Prim doesn’t even remember her. She calls Uncle Haymitch and Aunt Effie Mom and Dad.” She sat back, giving him an embarrassed smile. “That was more unloading than I intended for a first date.”

“Honestly, I’ve been watching you for a while,” Peeta revealed. “Finnick is sick to death of hearing me talk about the gorgeous brunette next door. That’s why he whistled at you; it was to save his ears from my own insecurities when it came to you.” His face had gone red. “I know you’re some big-time lawyer and I’m just some guy—”

Katniss shook her head. “You’re not just some guy.”

Peeta grinned. “I hope not.”

After he paid for dinner, they decided to walk to her apartment since it was a warm night.

As they strolled down the block, his hand brushed against hers before carefully grasping her fingers. Katniss took the initiative, entwining their fingers together, and Peeta turned to her, lifting her hand to press a kiss to her knuckles.

She felt the heat rise up her body, her center twisting at the feel of his rough lips to her skin. She had to wonder how those lips would feel against the rest of her body, specifically between her thighs.

It had been a long time since she had sex.

“Nice place,” Peeta said as they approached the luxury apartment complex. “I know the company that worked on them, Beetee Latier is a smart guy and I’m willing to bet that this place is very up-to-date when it comes to virtual assistance.”

“I’ve never tried it, but Johanna has said that she can tell the apartment when it’s too cold,” Katniss told him offhandedly. “And it raises the temperature according to what is comfortable.” They stop outside the entrance and she turned to him. “Thanks for dinner and the conversation.”

“Thank you for giving me a chance,” Peeta replied.

His hand reached, cupping her cheek and his thumb brush against the edge of her bottom lip before dropping to his side. Katniss felt every nerve pulsate at his touch and she had desperately fought the urge to take his thumb into her mouth to taste him.

She wanted to ask him to come up, but her need to not seem so desperate dampened her longing.

Reaching into her purse, Katniss took out her keys, giving him a shy smile. She quickly kissed him on the cheek.

“Good night, Peeta.”

His hand reached to a tendril of her hair, caressing it with his fingers as if he were trying to memorize the feel of it between them.

When Peeta met her eyes, her breath caught at the desire in his darkened blues. “Good night, Katniss.”

“Fuck it—”

Katniss snapped, her keys dropping to the ground in a loud clink, as her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled his mouth against hers. Peeta gasped in surprise before catching himself and circling his arms around her waist to pull her close.

He tasted delicious, her tongue surrounding his as she feasted on him. Her hand reached to grasp at his hair and the moan that tumbled from his mouth cause the fire inside her to flare. She had never wanted anything or anyone as much as she wanted the feel of him against her.

His lips slid off hers, pressing to her neck, his tongue sampling her.

“What are you doing to me, Katniss Everdeen?” he asked breathlessly, the intensity of his question sending shivers through her skin.

Katniss met his eyes, her chest heaving as she felt the rapid beat of her heart.

“I’m taking you upstairs.”

 So, there’s going to be a 2nd part to this. I’m having too much fun.

Yeah, I’ve been shipping Gale with the eldest brother since TWC.

#mrspeetamellark #request #constructionworker!Peeta #lawyer!Katniss #Everlark #Everlark Fanfiction #Modern AU #Rated MA #Rated E in later part

[amerrierworld]

Supposed To Be

Ocean’s 8 fanfiction

request: the reader finds out what Tammy does at party with the girls and maybe gets angry at Tammy for not telling her and lying to her. Then hets angry at everyone else and they all fell guilty. And maybe tammy says something that’s losses the reader of more. Then the reader walking out. The next morning the reader is ignoring all the texts and calls from Tammy and the girls. Tammy going over to talk to her...

Summary: Tammy is planning something for you with the team, but can’t let you know about it.

Characters: Tammy x fem!reader, the Ocean’s girls, (divorced!Tammy)

Word Count: 2,550

Warnings: Angst angst angst angst angst angst!!!!!! Miscommunication!! Hurt & comfort! Eventual happy ending :)

You first started feeling uneasy when Tammy’s text responses went from excited paragraphs and emojis to one-word answers. It was such a simple thing, but you barely got to see her in person some weeks, and this was the only thing that kept you connected.

After an inevitable divorce, Tammy moved to the city to be closer with the entire group, sharing custody of her children every other week. It had been stressful, but you had been there for her every step of the way, and a fruitful, happy romance had blossomed.

But now, even after all those months, there was a sudden barrier you couldn’t seem to get through. Her phone calls were hasty, her texts short, and no one else in the group seemed concerned like you were. You got no updates on her kids, which usually she couldn’t stop taking about. Frankly, it felt like she had gotten tired of you.

So, you shut your phone off and went out for the rest of the day, window-shopping and wandering around the city to get your fuming mind off of things. 

-

On the other side of the city, in Lou’s spacious loft, Tammy had gathered the other ladies, vigorously typing lists on her phone as she paced back and forth.

“Really, Tam, you’re overthinking this! Why do you feel the need to go through all this?” Lou sighed, swirling her glass of rye. 

“Because it has to be just right,” Tammy snapped back. 

Everyone knew how detail-oriented and perfectionist Tammy was. It was a life-saver for criminal activity and ensured safety for the gang to get through undetected. But sometimes, in ordinary life, it was a bit overkill.

“I really don’t think Y/N needs all this, babe,” Nineball added, lounging in a large, velvety bean bag and a joint between her lips. “Lou’s right, you’re overthinking it.”

“Listen, she’s my girlfriend, and this is my plan. Can you please just be a little bit supportive of this?” Tammy threw her hands up, exasperated. 

“Her birthday isn’t for another month,” Debbie pointed out.

“Exactly, I’m already running behind!”

The remaining seven shared a few bemused glances before Daphne handed Tammy a glass of wine to calm down. Debbie sighed, pulled up a chair and reached for the snack bowl.

“Alright, what’s the plan, TamTam?”

-

You still had one of Lou’s door keys from the last heist, and figured it was the best time to return it. It was starting to get late, and it was a bit of a walk, but you didn’t mind. The fresh air did good for your nerves and bad mood. 

You hadn’t seen Lou in ages either, so you figured a quick catch-up was needed too. Not even thinking, you used the key to let yourself in, washed over by warm light coming from inside, and-

Laughter? Music?

You froze. The first person you saw, of course, was Tammy. Your eyes were drawn to her in any room, always. She was laughing, nursing a drink in her hand, chatting with Lou and Debbie, who looked equally as pleased.

There was popcorn popping in the microwave, and the TV was showing a movie. Your heart sank little by little, as you realized that yes, they really had gotten tired of you. You didn’t register the pile of paper and notes on the coffee table, at all.

Lou saw you first, and went a little pale. She registered the keys in your hands were hers, and it clicked in her brain why you were there. She nudged Debbie, who immediately turned off the music, as if they’d been caught doing something illegal.

Then Tammy turned her head and saw you, her beautiful smile fading away instantly. Her mouth hung open a little, as if she didn’t know what to make of you standing there, in the flesh.

Suddenly your confusion melted into anger, and your heart broke little by little as they stood there, staring at you, not even bothering to say anything.

You tossed the keys to the floor, turned around, and slammed the front door shut. 

-

No one was moving. Tammy’s brain was lagging, still trying to register why you  looked so distraught, so betrayed. The rest of the group eyed her shyly. Constance had a mouth full of popcorn that she was afraid to chew down on because of how loud it would be in the silence.

“You fucking idiot,” Rose was the first to speak up- Tammy was shocked to hear her swear. “What’re you doing jus’ standing there? Get out and go after her!”

“Yeah,” Amita said, “she didn’t look too happy when seeing all of us.”

“Did you tell her where you would be today, Tam?” Debbie questioned her, looking her squarely in the eye. Tammy bit her lip, and shook her head. Cue a collective frustrated groan. 

“Tammy, we love you, but you can be so stupid sometimes,” Lou said, grabbing her glass from her. “Go on!”

Tammy nearly stumbled over her heels as she hurried after you, fearing she wouldn’t be able to find you in the dark.

“Y/N?” she called out, frantically looking out as the door closed behind her. She  spun around, looking left and right. “Y/N!”

“Stop yelling,” you snapped. She turned and saw you leaning against a streetlamp, face washed in eerie light. 

“You’re still here,” she said, relieved.

“No, I’m just waiting for a cab,” you said, not meeting her gaze. “You should go back to your party.”

“Do you want to come inside?” she asked you, wringing her hands.

“No, thanks,” you said, shoving your hands deep in your pockets. “I wasn’t invited, so.”

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t mean to-,”

“No, no, you clearly did,” you shook your head, interrupting her. “It’s fine, really. But next time you get sick of me, have the fucking courtesy to actually break up with me, please?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re barely answering any of my texts, and every time we talk you’re miles away. And now you’re throwing a party with the whole team, except for me. What gives?”

“It’s not what you think!”

“What the hell am I supposed to think, then? Do you even realize what the past few weeks have been like for me? Jesus, Tammy, I’ve been worried sick.”

Tammy didn’t know what to say. She didn’t want to lose you, she knew she couldn’t lose you, but to explain the plans and explain everything she’d prepared would ruin so, so much.

“Y/N, I love you with my entire heart. I can explain, I promise.”

“No, forget it,” a cab pulled up to the sidewalk and you yanked open the door. “Come back when you’ve made up your mind, I guess. Unless it’s something I don’t want to hear. Bye, Tammy.”

With that, the cab sped away, and you left a stunned Tammy standing on the sidewalk.

-

It was nearly two weeks later. You didn’t know how on earth you got this far without talking to Tammy at all, but you figured you made it clear where you stood. If she never talked to you again, you understood the message, and you were through.

A bit overdramatic, maybe, you wondered? If it was, you weren’t prepared to be the first one to cave. You wouldn’t go begging and crawling back to her. You were too stubborn and proud- even with the constant crying over the past few days.

You were sitting at a bar, drinking a sweet and fruity drink while watching some mindless sports game on the monitor when a familiar blonde slid into the seat next to you.

“Go away,” you said, not looking at Lou. She  waved her hand, and the bartender set to work on a drink for her.

“Good evening to you too, sweetheart,” she said. 

“What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same thing. This is my bar after all,” she received her drink and took a big gulp, leaning forward on the bar and looking over at you.

“No it isn’t,” you frowned, trying to piece your memory together. “Your club is dozens of blocks from here.”

“Yeah, and then I bought almost every bar and club on this side of the city. You’re looking at one rich-ass owner, Y/N.” Lou grinned, but you couldn’t be bothered to return the smile.

“Well, congrats Lou. No need to rub it in. Some of us are meant to just be broke.”

“Since when did you become such a downer?”

“Uh, since my girlfriend decided her life was better off without me?” you scoffed.

“Is that really what she said to you?” Lou asked, blue eyes piercing. You shifted in your seat.

“Not exactly, but I know when people are tired of me,” you muttered. “Walking in on the whole team who went through hell together having a party without me kinda sends a clear message.”

Lou chewed her lip, and sighed. She pushed the empty glass away from her and took her time to unwrap a stick of gum. 

It was quiet between the two of you as she got up and straightened her jacket, flicking her bleach blonde hair away from her eyes.

“It wasn’t a party, Y/N,” she said. “Talk to Tammy. She’s been absolute shit the past week.”

You bristled, not wanting to think about Tammy again. But Lou left you to it, paying for your drink, and headed out the door. You rubbed your face, tired, and lonely, and cursing yourself for letting it get this far. 

Hesitantly, you took out your phone, reading the ‘six new voicemails’ notification, and lingering your finger over the green listening button. All from Tammy. 

“Hey, Y/N. Giving me a taste of my own medicine, huh?” A weak laugh. “I’m sorry for not responding or talking more with you.. you have every right to be angry.”

You got up and headed home slowly, going through each voicemail carefully, listening at least twice.

“God I don’t even know where to start. It’s been so... empty without you. Please call me soon? There’s so much I want to tell you.”

Turning multiple corners, you put on your sunglasses, hoping it would hide the tears threatening to spill over. 

“I feel terrible. And the girls are mad at me for letting you get away. Not-not like you ran away, but- but not fighting for you, you know? For such a stupid, stupid reason too. I, uh, hm... I miss you.”

I miss you. You stared at your front door, listening as the voicemail ended, frozen. You were mere steps from getting inside, but there was something in the way.

Tammy looked over her shoulder, standing on your doorstep, and you nearly burst into tears all over again. She was startled just like you were, surprised to see you there.

Your arm dropped limply to your side, voicemail forgotten, and you took a shaky breath,

“I miss you too.”

-

You sat across each other awkwardly. You offered her a cup of tea, she politely declined. Tammy was carrying a large tote bag with things inside, and you were intrigued, but didn’t make any effort to start the conversation. You would remain stoic, and not cave. No matter how beautiful she looked, how rosy her cheeks were, how done up her hair was. But there were giant bags under her eyes that you could not ignore, and something pulled at your heartstrings. 

“You look well,” Tammy said, smiling weakly.

“No I don't,” you replied. Her face fell. “Neither do you.” Ouch. 

“Crazy what only two weeks can do to a person, right?” she chuckled hoarsely.

She continued, “I realize that... that I didn’t handle things very well, with how it ended.. on the sidewalk that night.”

“Hmm.”

Her fingers were shaking, and your resolve nearly crumbled. She reached into the bag and grabbed a massive binder, nearly bursting with the amount of pages. Your name was written in thick letters on the front. 

“This is why I wasn’t talking to you,” she muttered, bashfully. “And I realized that keeping this a secret from you isn’t worth the risk of losing you.. like, actually losing you and never getting to have you in my life again.”

Your mouth fell open as you turned to the first page. It was one of those massive wedding planner books that some young girls like to have when dreaming of their future wedding. 

Only it was for your birthday. Lists and lists of your favourite music, your favourite foods, restaurants, colours and clothes. Plans for venues, DJs, special outings and reservations. Plans for each member of the team to take care of little things; drinks, dances, meals, performers...

“Oh my god,” you whispered.

“It was going to be your first birthday with the two of us really together. It was supposed to be a surprise... perfect and special. I guess I went a little over the top..” she rubbed her neck with her hand and blushed.

“Tammy... oh my god,” you kept saying, with every new page, and new intricate lists and ideas. “Oh my god.”

“This is incredible,” you breathed, tears falling freely now. “I’m so, so sorry.”

“No no, I should be the one apologizing,” Tammy replied firmly. “I should have told you.”

“But then it wouldn’t have been a surprise! Oh my god, I should have been more trusting in you,” you cried softly. “Tammy, oh, god. Tammy, I love you so much.”

Every detail was spot-on. She knew you inside and out, like no one else ever  knew you. No one had ever cared so deeply for you, to think so deeply for you. 

Now Tammy was crying too, and you were two blubbering messes, clasping hands across the table and spilling tears on the pages. Thankfully, they were laminated.

“I’ve scrapped it all,” Tammy confessed. 

Your head snapped up, “What?”

“Well, when I say scrapped.. I rescheduled it for next year.. I didn’t think that you would want this anymore. Not after what I did.”

“Debbie thought it a good idea to just move it to next year, in case you still wanted it, and.. well, in case you and I are still...” she cleared her throat, face red, not wanting to finish her sentence for fear of jinxing it.

You pushed your chair back and walked over to her, cupping her face and kissing her sweetly. She melted in your touch.

“Of course I’ll still want it,” you said, brushing her mouth with your lips. “I want you.”

“So-, are- are we o-okay?”  Tammy’s breath hitched with increasing sobs and you kissed her, again and again.

“Yes, yes, yes,” you laughed, kissing her tears away. “I don’t want anything except you.”

“Good,” Tammy giggled, “because I don’t think I had anymore energy to finish these plans.”

“When did you start making this?”

“About a month ago.”

“Oh, Tammy, my God,” you threw your head back, understanding why she had gotten so distanced now. “You can’t possibly think all of that-” gesturing to the thick book, “would be possible to plan in just a few weeks right? Not with your perfectionist habits, at least.”

“Hey,” Tammy warned, but her eyes were twinkling. 

“Plus, I love every single detail you put in there, I swear, but I don’t need anything except you and the people we love on my birthday. Seriously.”

“Good, because that’s exactly what Lou offered after she slapped some sense into me,” Tammy confessed. “A party at her loft or one of her clubs? And then.. cake?”

“Yes!” you clapped your hands. “Our friends, and cake.”

You slid forward to sit in Tammy’s lap and pressed your warm face in her neck, kissing her there and hugging her closely.

“That’s all I need,” you murmured. “That’s how it’s supposed to be.”

Tammy let out another sob, wrapping her arms around you tightly and kissing the side of your head, nuzzling your hair without abandon. 

A/N: A bit longer than usual but I wanted to do the lovely request justice :D Miscommunication is such a bitch... especially when it doesn’t work out, but in this fiction land it does!! We love soft!Tammy~

#tammy #tammy oceans 8 #tammy x you #sarah paulson #sarah paulson x you #sarah paulson character #wlw #lgbt #lgbtq #lgbtqia #ocean's eight #oceans8 #oceans 8 #oceans 8 fanfic #ocean's 8 #cate blanchett #Sandra bullock #fanfiction #merry writes

[c0rpseductor]

while i was lying in bed waiting for my migraine to go away i started thinking about jk r*wling (ugh i know) and her stupid essay where she discussed her Fear Of Being Transed were she to know what trans people were when she was young

and it really just kind of struck me how mistaken her ilk seem to be when it comes to, like, obviously everything in general, but particularly the actual experiences and thought processes of trans men. because this narrative is so contrary to absolutely every life experience i’ve had & share with other trans guys it’s frankly laughable

the pushback i got for even CONSIDERING being trans as a teenager was enough to put me back in the closet, both in terms of others’ overt denial that i could be anything but cis and their just constantly treating me as a girl because i was in the closet. nobody on god’s green EARTH wanted me to be male, and every effort i made to connect with my actual gender or even be a little more masculine was a legitimate nightmare. the idea that trans men are somehow encouraged to transition Because Misogyny is so completely absurd that in any other universe i would think it was satire.

not only that, but like, on top of that the idea that it’s all some ploy to Escape the social difficulties of womanhood...like, first of all, in my current experience being a trans man is 9000% more difficult than being a cis woman. i don’t pass in my day to day life, so i still get treated with weird misogyny AND get the added enjoyment of having to weigh whether it’s safe or even worth the effort to correct anyone, AND the few people i’m out to still insist on misgendering me at every available opportunity anyway, which is miserable. it would be much easier for me to be cis, i haven’t unlocked some secret level of Male Privilege, and even after medical transition i probably won’t fare much better given i’m 5 foot nothing. all that is fine, obviously; even if it’s kind of a bummer i’ve made my peace with it, it’s just like....if i actually perceived myself as female, why would i voluntarily choose this as if it’s a get out of jail free card, unless i was an idiot? being trans is awesome and i’m proud of it, but it’s also fucking hard.

if anything, the common perception that trans men decide to be trans to avoid misogyny (as if that’s like....a thing) was part of the reason i so vehemently denied being trans for so long, and then vehemently denied being male when i couldn’t deny my not being cis any longer. i was TERRIFIED of the idea of being some kind of political and social traitor to women, enough that i actively denied my own identity and made myself miserable for years in order to, like, be more feminister. it was stupid, obviously; i’m a dude and always have been, even before i was consciously aware of it, and you can’t be a traitor to a group you were never part of. trans men have a particularly unique relationship to misogyny compared to cis men anyway, and conflating those relationships is a pretty shallow conception of manhood and transness. it’s not like my intimate knowledge of exactly how people treat and see women suddenly vanished the moment i was able to admit to myself i was a man. that would be fucking stupid.

and like, OBVIOUSLY the entire movement of shallow transphobic neoliberal “feminists” who think gender essentialism is radical is predicated on an absolute divorce from material reality and basic logic; you would have to be a complete idiot to think most of the black-and-white grade school shit they do about men and women. it just astounds me every goddamn time i think about it how utterly ridiculous and willfully ignorant this mindset is, ESPECIALLY the idea that anyone would decide to be a trans man because it’s “easier” or because of, like, the most shallow and baffling understanding of internalized misogyny ive ever heard

[kireiwoo]

red, blue, my yellow. [jwy!]

˚➶. EXPO ↓

#𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 bestfriend!woo x fem!reader.

#𝐚𝐛𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭 in which woo is your teasing florist of a friend who can’t seem to pick between red and blue; so you add a third option for him, yellow!

#𝐜𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 bf2l, fluff, crack, blasphemy(?), animal death, cursing, 6th grader jokes, two dorks being oblivious, kissing <3

#𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬 2.0k+

“Okay, so Sky Blue or Cherry Red?”

“What the fuck? Those are so contrasting.”

Wooyoung whined at your indecisive and absentminded response, leaning his head against your turquoise, sweater-clad shoulder while watching reruns of Scooby-Doo on your old TV. You sipped on the sugarless vanilla latte he purchased for you, relishing in the brief but welcomed warmth the drink radiated in waves. Wooyoung obsessively shoved two paint-cards into your face, gaggling over how bright and saturated they were.

He visited earlier with the guise of simply hanging out with you, claiming that while occupied with his 9-5 job downtown as an optimistic florist, he missed your company. Initially he picked the job because it sounded delicate and comprehensively easy. Objectively, the work was relatively standard; water the daffodils and make sure his small, secret rose garden he called ‘wonderland’ was receiving enough sunlight; but his back ached with hauling boxes filled with seeds and bags packed of faux soil.

“Why are you seriously no help?” He chirped. You grumbled in response, focusing on the graphics of the late television show rather than Wooyoung’s juvenile complaints. Your hair was an unkempt rat’s nest and your spongebob pyjama pants were ruffled considerably, but you allowed Wooyoung into your house regardless of your external appearance. You knew he wouldn’t judge you anyways, too occupied with picking a paint colour for his new apartment.

“How about Sunflower Yellow?” You calmly, dismissively suggested, taking another long swig from the now-empty pale brown paper cup before tossing it behind your couch. You’d clean it up later anyways, but for now you had a whiny best friend to deal with. “Dunno if you’re hard of hearing or colourblind but yellow wasn’t an option.” Wooyoung quipped, his eyes flashing with a teasingly stumped mirth.

“You and I both damn-well know who has the better hearing, and she’s lookin’ right at ya.” Wooyoung giggled at your pouty disposition, finding your blushed cheeks and deep eye-bags adorable. He sat casually against your couch, dressed in his own quirkily mismatched ensemble. A pair of khaki shorts accompanied by a dark green sweatshirt and multicoloured socks, his scuffed three-year-old tennis shoes laying by your door. You found it endearing how Wooyoung still tried to come up with his own fashion trends, ending up looking like a stitched together version of brand-name and value-village. But he was being expressive in the form of seasonal apparel, and you were proud of him.

“Byeol?” He teased, gesturing to your mangy, blue-eyed siamese feline as she sat back and observed your get-together, scattering away once the attention was on her. Wooyoung sighed.

“Look, you chubby-cheeked wench, just answer and I’ll leave you to sleep in your little cocoon of grandma blankets.” You huffed at his insinuation, plonking your deft fingers against his cheek softly and gently.

You met Wooyoung in third grade, when sex didn’t determine friendship and the bounds of society were turned away by your blind infant eyes.

You’d been retrieving wild bluebells and dandelions, bunching them in your sweaty grasp as a sort of dedicated bouquet, explaining to the boisterous boy that you needed to leave it as a parting gift to a squirrel you saw that got run over (you called him Tootles). Looking back, it was innately bizarre how indifferent you were to the concept of death, but Wooyoung supposes that it was a sweet thought anyways. From then on, the two of you blundered together—but part of the reason Wooyoung stayed was also because of his obvious attraction to your lopsided pigtails and thrifted summer dresses. He remembers that you always had a food stain somewhere on your clothing.

Now looking at you, still messy and even more vulgar, he can’t help but think that he doesn’t regret any moments. You’ve gone through everything together; Wooyoung was present for your first period when the stomach pain and hunger cramps were immense, and you were there when his family suffered through a rough patch, assuring him that everything would be okay when in reality, the decision of divorce between his parents was settled a week later. Those were some of his most difficult moments, but he can look back at them fondly only because it brought him closer to you.

“Wench? What are you saying? I’m a god.” You offered in the most dramatized tone you could.

“Might wanna get your facts checked,”

“Might wanna get your mom checked,” You snorted, biting your lip while procuring finger guns just for the hell of it. Wooyoung sighed in mock disappointment, his frizzy purple-tinted fringe falling onto his forehead. You grinned and giggled, catching his attention cutely.

Your whiny puppy rolled his eyes before wailing a cacophony of displeased sounds, loudly filtering his discontentment with having a plain apartment. “(Y/N) you don’t understand the seriousness of my situation! Who wants to tell their grandchildren that their first—that’s right, first!—apartment was a boring cream colour?!” Fed up with his childish bumbling, you quickly smacked his forehead, chuckling quietly as he squeaked and softened his stiff posture. It was honestly so lovable how he got so passionate about the smallest, almost insignificant things.

“Listen, we’ll figure something out. I still think Sunflower Yellow should be an option though.” Wooyoung swatted at your covered tummy with an overzealous and enthusiastic expression, clearly excited with the concept of letting you help him. The soft scent of peppermint-chamomile flooded into your nostrils from his clothing, making you mentally note to ask him what detergent he decided to try. “You think wrong, settler! Now choose between these two colours or I’ll be obligated to steal half of your lifespan.” You laughed loudly at the unprecedented silliness of your best friend, shaking your head while sending a fleeting but absolutely enamoured stare in his direction.

“Honestly, at this point why am I letting you help me?” He hummed. You gurgled at his feigned distress, gasping and tackling him against the couch. You straddled his waist, pointing a manicured figure at his face while you fondly cursed at him. “As I recall, Mr. Jung; you arrived to my residence at exactly 12:01 PM with the excuse to hang out, only to badger me with your issues about... paint colours. You came to me.” Wooyoung sat enthralled by your change in attitude, bathing in the flawlessness of your execution regarding exposing him for his wrongdoings.

“Just boom, bam, pow: There’s that dude I’m in love with.” Wooyoung’s eyes widened considerably, a snarky smirk falling across his countenance as his cheeks devilishly flushed, looking similar to that of a ripened strawberry. Immediately you backtracked, wondering what you said that provoked this reaction, and realization struck across your face like a sharp slap.

Oh shit. Shit.

“I-Uh—you didn’t hear that.” You waved shy but frantic hands into his face, as if hypnotizing him into forgetting about your embarrassingly personal confession. But all he did was giggle and take ahold of your wrists, pulling your body forward so you were chest to chest with him.

A soft, addictingly brief kiss was placed against your creased forehead, the perfect lips of your best friend brushing against your heated skin. You swallowed thickly, placing your hands over his sweater-clad chest with confusion written all over your face. What in the hell kind of reaction was this—? Whatever it was, it was warm and delicate and felt right.

Then again, there’s nothing that ever feels wrong when it comes to Jung Wooyoung. Or maybe that’s just you.

“Y’know, you’re not very... secretive.” He settled, making perplexities skip through your mind like stones on water. Had he known? Was this the end of your life-long friendship? Questions ran through your mind endlessly, your heart rapidly beating and mind berating you for admitting your tini-tiny, small-as-a-planet crush. “I had my suspicions but you actually saying it was my sweet confirmation.”

“The fuck? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I-I—Hey! Don’t be angry at me!” He pouted, melting your heart into a pile of mushy and fragmented puddles. “What I was trying to say is, I love you too.” Immediately your face blanched and you dropped your head into the crook of Wooyoung’s neck, appreciating the small dust of red that decorated his ears. You simply couldn’t face him in fear that this was all a simulation; a seemingly harmless gaffe constructed firstly to tease you, and knowing Wooyoung with his wildly oblivious tendencies and boyish lack of empathy, you had no doubt that it was something he would try.

And yet, you couldn’t even force yourself to be angry at him. Because while you speculated that he was joking, somewhere in your heart you knew that he was being honest—simply in denial with the prospect of your long-lasting crush actually returning your feelings. “Hello? Earth to (Y/N)? Airhead? Loafer?” You snapped out of your reverie, staring at Wooyoung’s pinked face as his prying eyes drifted around your facial features, slowly tracing each detail.

“You love me too?” Shock ever-present, you searched in Wooyoung’s loving gaze for some kind of testimony, a confirmation, for some truth to be shed. And when all you could see were the glimmering, almost glowing sparkles in his large pupils, you felt the slightest bit reassured.

“Of course I do, bean!”

“As a friend though, right?” Wooyoung’s face screwed into an intense concentration, expression looking fragile and breakable. But in his wandering mind, he questioned how you could even consider that. He loved you as something more—with your tangled tresses and wrinkled clothes, even down to the fact that you couldn’t handle sugar but grimaced every time you drank your vanilla lattes, simply because they weren’t sweet enough.

It was the little things that he found himself so affectionately obsessed with. He remembers your bleached sundresses in elementary and how you couldn’t tie your shoes without help from a teacher. How you loathed wearing glasses because you thought they made you look nerdy, but complained because you just couldn’t see.

“Jesus Christ, Loser. No, I love you like... like a crush! Yeah, like a crush. Romantically.” He gushed, and if this wasn’t one of the most immature confessional moments in history, it sure was a cheesy one.

“Wait, really? You like-like me?” Good god. Your fingers trembled and lips twitched.

“Yes, how many times do I—” Wooyoung breathed out a shaky sigh as you leaned forward and smoothly took his lips with your own. He tasted minty and sweet, like petals and chocolate. His eyes fluttered closed as your lips meshed together, pushing against each other in a romantic twine of burning passion.

Suddenly, your hands were on either side of his head and one of his deft, spidering hands pressed onto the small of your back. The other hand trailed up to the back of your neck, twirling the loose strands of hair at your nape, his tongue breaching the space between your lips invasively—but then he tried to card his fingers through your hair; and you hissed and pulled away like a disenchanted cat, baring your teeth from the unprecedented pain.

“Shit! Sorry, baby.” Whereas your head flooded with spiking pains from small hairs being plucked, your heart was palpitating at the new but definitely embraced pet-name. “I told you that you should’ve washed your hair! But someone doesn’t like listening!” You tutted at the nagging, harrumphing before placing another complacent kiss against his lips.

“Oh shut up, Mr. I can’t choose between red and blue.” You never thought you’d get the chance to tease Wooyoung after directly smooching him; it was a fantasy and a reoccurring fever dream to feel his plush, pillowed lips against your own. Perhaps a perverse imaginative scenario, but it was a reality now. And reality suddenly didn’t seem so harsh; crowded in the warm arms of a starry-eyed shortie with calloused hands and a knack for gardening.

“You’re right, I can’t. But it’s okay, I prefer yellow anyways.”

Who knows what awaits you in life? Maybe the sky will drain of it’s blue and the roses will deplete of their red—but no matter the changes and disparities that occur over the years, there’s always one thing that you’re forever sure of:

“You’re my yellow, Jung Wooyoung.”

🥽 all rights reserved © kireiwoo. do not : plagiarize, counterfeit, or translate, & thank you for reading <3!

#ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez fluff #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #ateez reaction #ateez wooyoung #jung wooyoung #wooyoung smut #wooyoung fluff #wooyoung angst #wooyoung reactions #wooyoung scenarios #wooyoung x reader #ateez oneshot #wooyoung #jwy : youngie. #80’s!

[theviolencedistrict-archived]

you're a part of me and i'm a part of you written to: bones characters: mich/ael cr/ew & marco alvira (self insert) words: 1,621 notes: Marco's hand was always outstretched, the last piece of him sticking out from the earth towards the sky. From way down there, though, he couldn't ever possibly tell if Mike was reaching back. Blue skies and a blurry shape in the clouds of what could be a man, but could be a god.

Something about the way Marco could never quite reach Mike was mystifying. Dizzying, one man in great heights while the other sunk into the planet with the quicksand. Marco's hand was always outstretched, the last piece of him sticking out from the earth towards the sky. From way down there, though, he couldn't ever possibly tell if Mike was reaching back. Blue skies and a blurry shape in the clouds of what could be a man, but could be a god. Michael Crew took to the skies to escape the humanity below, but he didn't fully realize that with their feet planted on the ground, he could only ever be looked up upon as a deity walking amongst the clouds, wielding his emotions as lightning in his palms.

That wasn't right. Marco knew that. Mike would never put his hand to the flashing beams of electricity that made his hair stand on end when storms rolled in. Not when he knew it could - and would - bite back. His scars ached and pulsated with every downpour. No matter how diligently Marco rubbed at them with his warm palms, those lightning strikes would never return to the sky. That little man could break through the ozone and the universe would not take back its wrath, even if the broken boy in him still wished it would.

It was silly to look up at the great wide sky and hope the universe was listening. It wasn't even out there, Marco would muse and chuckle. The universe was locked in the core beneath the streets and houses and festering garbage, slowly crawling its way up through the dirt. But in the same way Mike took to the sky and could not be seen, how could a world full of people know what was below them if they were always looking up?

Under a dim streetlight, the short brunette man held his jacket closed as a damp wind blew by. Marco, ever so persuasive, had successfully gotten the man to dress according to the weather, which was predicted to be unkind from Georgia up through Ohio for the next several days. The two stood outside of an impressively ancient bar just a short walk from the border between Tennessee and Kentucky, both of which happened to be the taller American's home. Growing up with divorced parents split between two different Welcome-To signs blurred the line of a hometown, or even a home state. Mike, lucky for him in his quaint home on the outskirts of London, never had to worry about the raging tension between two parents or where he'd spend the weekend. It would have been the least of his problems, however, as Marco's heart tightened at the years of internal trauma and torment which ate away at his youth instead.

When Marco's father died, he couldn't cry at the funeral. When Mike's parents died, he simply inhabited the walls of a skeletal home like a ghost.

"It's gonna start comin' down soon," The tall, wide man warned in an accent otherwise alien to his short companion, "You ready to hit the road? I told you it wouldn't be so bad." Coming up behind Mike with an umbrella under his arm and both hands in his pockets, Marco watched the skies. He was never a fan of the rain, but did love the scent of its aftermath seeping through the mud. Fog felt natural, almost as much so as a warm and crushing home. Suffocating... blinding. But cold.

"You were right... I suppose there isn't anything left for us here," Mike was something akin to antsy, looking uncomfortable in his clothing, or perhaps his very own skin, "Why is it, do you think... That I suddenly feel so... Regretful?" He questioned, attempting to turn and look at the long haired avatar through messy bangs. He in turn looked thoughtful, but shrugged, lifting a hand to scratch at the thick hair on his chin.

"Atmosphere, maybe. Not the kind you're used to, but the one that lives in people. Lives in places. Different than you know, ain't it?" The unmistakable similarity between Marco Alvira and Michael Crew was that they emitted the very same air of vague and heavy sadness from their very pores - and over time, it mixed with a shared, unfortunate remorse. "That old man, though - one at the bottle all day? He's got a lotta debts. Lots of shit needs payin' but he'll never get around to. Not because he can't, but because he never wanted to."

"And so he drinks the guilt away." Pale and tired Mike nodded in understanding, having begun to visibly relax while his partner talked. He made his way the few steps closer to Marco, and casually snaked his arm around his. The faint, pleasant smell of whiskey wafted from the man with long since faded out dyed-green hair, but Mike didn't recall seeing him drink during their stay. He was steady enough while guiding him out of the light, into the dark night, and back towards the truck.

"Everybody's got their way. That's just one of the easiest." Marco commented wisely, always leaving his small lover with something to think about during the silent times. The buried avatar always drove, while the vast avatar sat beside him and gazed at sights through the melody of folk tracks or United States news stations which didn't make all that much a difference in his world. Maybe that was untrue, now. Maybe he'd started to think that he didn't want to leave this place. Did that make it his new world? As Marco got into the driver's seat, Mike met him in time, climbing into the passenger's.

A bright vein of purple lightning lit up the night sky, exposing the outlines of trees and scarce old buildings in its brief illumination. Michael's soft brown hair looked messier than even before, and his eyes avoided the windows as he leaned against the car door, chewing on his lip. Marco did not need to look at the other man to feel him and his blazing emotions. Keys in the ignition, bright old lights upon the dirt, and they pulled off onto the road once more. The moment they did, wind began to rage, and only the driver took notice through his rearview mirrors that the one, stumbling, drunk old man stepped on quivering legs out of the doors they shortly ago exited, grumbling at himself and throwing an empty bottle onto the ground. He was almost knocked off his feet by the coming storm - or was he being pulled into it?

Soon, he could no longer be seen. Only the road ahead mattered as cold water droplets hit the windshield.

"What if I stopped, one day?" Mike eventually spoke up from where he'd shriveled into one corner of his seat, staring at nothing. It was a question Marco had, too, asked himself. Many, many times. "What if I just stopped feeding it?"

"You know what would happen. Maybe not how, but you know it'd come for you," The muscular man sighed, eyes on the road - always the road, always forward, until it could only be down, "It'd come for me too, if I stopped. I'm more afraid of what comes after, than how it'd end me."

"It might, though. I might. I don't know." The passenger sighed heavily, clearly shaken up by emotions he'd long since frozen away, due mostly to exhaustion. Marco watched from the corner of his eye as his beloved began to rub and scratch at the pulsating, living scar on his neck. The one that matched the skies at that very same moment. It made his hardened heart throb.

"Yeah? I'd go with you," He stated plainly, with something painful bitten back in his voice, "I don't care. If one day you decide you're done, and it's over, then no matter what happens, it's gonna be both of us. We'll fight, we'll run, but when it catches you, it catches me, too. I ain't lettin' go of you. You got me, and I love you, whether you like it or not... Whichever comes first, the sky or the earth, it's takin' us together."

There was more firm warmth, a promise, in the words Marco spoke. It was unexpected, like a sinkhole bursting to life, like a sudden burst of thunder. The pale man's paler eyes were set on his love, wider than they'd ever been. How long had Mike been running alone? How long had it only been him and sky blue? He could taste his own heartbeat, the way his insides flipped and tumbled, and the lightning didn't reach his eyes - nor did the thunder that followed reach his ears. And he swallowed hard as they crossed the threshold into another home, once more.

"... Do you promise?" The Englishman asked somewhat shakily, a vulnerability he'd never show anyone but Marco. His lungs allowed the cold night air in once again when he saw his Southern protector smile.

"I promise. Of course I promise." There was a small laughter in his response, like a relief. It was a relief that filled both of them. The vast would be satisfied tonight, and peace would be theirs for a short amount of time. What came next was simply time. What flowed between them was simply understanding - and love. Marco released the wheel with the hand closest to Mike, and held it out for him to take. The hesitation was short lived, before a cold little hand was warmed in his grasp, tightly holding on over the old transmission stick between them.

Marco reached out to the sky - and Mike reached back. Where their hands joined together was the eternal horizon.

#i was feeling really sad about my writing and expected this to be angst but it isn't : ) #nice surprise for myself #my writing #f/o: mike #s/i: marco #self ship #selfship #self shipper #selfshipper #self shipping #selfshipping #s/i #self insert #selfinsert #f/o #fictional other #comfort character #oc x canon #canon x oc #flashing tw #<-- for the gif. but i tried to use the least flashing one i could find #ok to rb

[kenanda]

35 and/or 43 for Lonelyeyes!

Nammi, thank you so much for the prompt!!! This took a while, but I wanted to take my time and do this justice. Here we are, once again, with more LonelyEyes softness!!! 

Prompt: 35 - “Do you trust me?” Prompt 43 - “Taking care of the other when sick or injured”

I decided to do them both because why the heck wouldn’t I give you everything you ask me for, my dearest? 

(and for those who have sent me prompts: i have seen them and i am working on them!!! thank you!! <3)

SOFT LONELYEYES BELOW THE CUT: ELIAS IS SICK, PETER COMES TO THE RESCUE!

Words: 1,1k Rating: PG Tags: established relationship; taking care of the other when sick; fluff; soft; funny; comfort; no hurt only comfort; tooth-rotting fluff

When Peter received the message on his phone, he could never have imagined that what he would find upon arriving in London and rushing to Elias’ flat would be this. 

Sure, it was Elias that he was talking about, but the message had been rather alarming. It said:

“Peter, dear, I am afraid that this is the last you shall ever hear from me. I would require your immediate assistance, were I not certain that the very end of my days on this here green earth were nigh. Breathing is torture, and Death herself seems to have perched upon my back. It hurts to speak, and the world has become a cold menace to my shuddering, feverish body. I shan’t survive. This is goodbye. Love, your husband. [sad-faced emoji]”

This wouldn’t have been the first time that Peter had gotten such a message from Elias. His husband had a tendency to go over the top with things, especially those pertaining to his health (one would believe that he would have gotten the hang of it by now, having cheated death at least 3 times via eye-transfusion alone, but no). 

There had been that one time in 1986, when Elias had had a severe case of chickenpox; and before that, pneumonia; and even earlier, one bad toothache — which all counted as life threatening events in Elias’ book. In Peter’s, they meant sleepless nights and having to haul ass from whatever god-forsaken place he happened to have been when the news arrived.

It was up to Peter, poor man, to make sure that his husband remained, well, alive. 

(It was a clause in their wedding contract.)

It had been nevertheless annoying — to say the very, very least — to have had to turn ship and make it to the English coast in record time, worried to his very bones that he would arrive home to find a rotting corpse, only to learn what he had somehow already guessed in his heart, even before stepping on land: 

Elias had caught a cold. 

“Peter…!” came the drawn-out wail from the bedroom. 

Peter sighed. From how congested Elias sounded, these would be a long few days. He went to see the state of the mess, and found his husband nestled amid at least three thick duvets, wearing dark sunglasses, and clutching a tall plastic glass of what seemed to be a green smoothie in mitten-clad hands.

“Really, Elias?”  

“The light from the TV hurts my eyes,” Elias whined, and let out a weak cough to make his point. 

“Then don’t turn it on? What are you even drinking?”

Elias startled a little, as if he had forgotten that he was holding the drink.

“Oh, this. The Eye said it would help.”

Come again?

“Excuse me, the Eye said a kale smoothie would help you with your cold? The all-seeing eldritch horror that preys on terror. That Eye. A kale smoothie.”

“You speak as if you don’t know the man you’ve married. Multiple times, may I add.”

Peter shook his head. He would have to unpack all that later. 

Shedding his coat, Peter set about putting away the groceries and getting a soup going. While it simmered, he made sure to run Elias a bath, because the smell that was coming from the bedroom wasn’t great. 

It took some thorough convincing (Peter bodily prying Elias off of bed) for Elias to agree to leaving the comfort of his duvets, but once he was in the bath, Peter was able to change the sheets and make sure they were all fresh once Elias returned. 

Elias must have been taking care of himself rather poorly these days, for he soon became dizzy upon stepping out of the bedroom. Peter circled an arm around him and helped him to bed, patted him all dry and dressed him in soft cotton pyjamas. 

By the end of it, Elias was sleepy and even let Peter blow dry his hair (which Peter secretly loved, because it was very fluffy); he also took the cold meds, and finally crawled back under the covers.  

“Dinner’s ready,” Peter announced a while later, coming into the room with a tray of hot soup. 

Elias groaned. “Not hungry.”

“Come now, you need to eat. Proper food, not whatever the Eye has been telling you to! Which, honest, love… You’d better not listen to some of Its advice.”

Elias could be very much like a spoiled brat when he wanted to, especially if he was sick. He made a show of reluctantly sitting up and letting Peter place the tray in front of him. 

Peter considered offering to spoon-feed him, but even as a joke, the thought gave him the creeps. Besides, he was sure that any attempt at babying Elias would end up in worse ways than a divorce. 

Elias might have said that he wasn’t hungry, but he quickly got a taste for it and dug in. Peter ate some as well, but he was more interested in showering and getting ready for bed as soon as possible. The last few days had been insanely tiring, and all he wanted was to tuck in with Elias. 

“All done?”

Elias placed the spoon next to the bowl and crossed both hands over his now round belly. 

“Quite,” he said, very regally, as if he didn’t have a soup smudge on his chin. “Thank you, Peter.”

Peter snorted. “I’ll put these away, but before that, get over here.”

Elias had been leaning back with his eyes closed. He peeped at Peter. “What is it?”

Peter didn’t say anything, only leaned forward and placed the back of his hand on Elias’ forehead. 

Elias still had it in himself to let out a condescending huff, which resulted in a coughing fit. 

“Peter, dear, this is so primitive-” he chided once he had regained his breath. “I’m sure we have a thermometer somewhere.”

“Hush, this is ancient medicine. You should know.”

Elias jabbed him in the ribs, and Peter ducked with a laugh. He was relieved, though. Elias had been running a fever since earlier, but now it seemed to be mostly gone. 

“I know another one that’s guaranteed to work,” Peter said. 

Elias couldn’t appear more skeptical even if he tried. 

“Come on, do you trust me?”

“Well, you did come when I called,” Elias conceded. 

“You know I always do.”

Perhaps Elias’ expression did go a bit soft around the corners of his eyes then, and Peter was quick to act. He gently touched Elias’ forehead with his lips and held them there for a bit, then drew back with a shy peck. 

“And what was that,” Elias demanded, but there was no real bite to it, only the same old fondness. 

“A kiss,” Peter said, simple as that. “Kissed you better.”

“Sap.”

“Oh no, the fever seems to be picking up again. You’re starting to see me for what I really am! I guess I ought to kiss you more.” Peter side-eyed Elias cheekily, and waited for the go signal. 

Elias sighed, and kissed him instead. He had married a doting fool, but Peter knew that he was fine with that. They both were.

#my fic #nanda's ramblings #tma fic #lonelyeyes #peter lukas #elias bouchard #lonelyeyes fic #lonelyeyes fanfiction

[officialwittek]

pt. 5

*texts are fake, but these are mine* 

word count: 1,966

I have to be dreaming right? There’s no way on god’s green earth that he knows. I can’t believe he heard our conversation. I want to die in a hole. I look at the time and it’s nearly 3:00am. so I can’t call my friends since they’re all asleep. I toss and turn for what feels like years before slowly drifting to sleep

--

*the next day*

The rest of the girls decided to join us for lunch as well, I quickly get dressed and knock on Carly’s door to let her know that I’m ready. She comes out almost immediately and we both head to the restaurant in my car. I can tell she knows something is wrong, but she doesn’t ask the entire ride. We spot our other friends in a corner booth in the back and make our way over. We make small talk and lay out our schedules for the day.

“So... Sage, what happened last night?” Natalie asks, a concerned look on her face, our friends look at her in confusion

“Todd got a call from Jeff at like three in the morning. Is everything ok?” she repeats, I make a face and that’s all they need to know

“Oh my god, he knows doesn’t he..” Erin asks, I nod and feel tears welling in my eyes

“Yea.. it fucking sucks man. He basically told me that he only sees me as a friend and that he’s not over his fucking ex-girlfriend who only used him.. And it’s not like we were dating but I was so.. so in love with him” I reply, letting the tears fall as Corinna rubbed my shoulders and my other friends grabbed my hands

“And now I’m afraid things are going to be awkward when we all hang out together. I never ever wanted that, I don’t want anyone to feel like they need to chose between us like children during their parents divorce” I cry, letting all my emotions out, I’ve never been more thankful that we chose a small, quiet restaurant where we’re the only people here

“No, come on. I’m sure if you explain the situation to everyone they would totally understand” Carly explained, the other girls nodding in agreement

“I can’t.. I can’t explain to them. I don’t know how to put it into words and I don’t want them to be mad at Jeff. He’s their friend too and I know how protective everyone can be at times” I rant, they all nod along, their eyebrows furrowed as they think of something else

“Well, to be honest none of us had anything to do today. Why don’t we go back to your apartment and have another girl’s day? Get your mind off things and we’ll get all the takeout and listen to sad music” Erin suggests, I nod and ask Nat to text Mariah

After lunch we head back to the apartment. I feel like 1:00 pm. is an appropriate time to have some vodka right? I mean it’s 5:00 somewhere. I grab the bottle of Titos from my cabinet and pour it into a cup with some sprite and a lime. I made some for the girls and they all took a glass. We browse through Netflix and choose some Disney movies to watch. We started with the Princess and the Frog.

Four movies later and my phone started buzzing. Matt and Zane were asking where we all were because they were bored and David was busy editing and doing other work. I decided to let them come because they were like one of the girls. They showed up with Mariah and more alcohol.

“So baby what happened?” Mariah asks, I told her I wanted to wait until I could tell her in person

I explained the situation to the three of them, Mariah was incredibly irritated at Jeff, Matt and Zane were also pretty upset as well. I also explained how I didn’t want to make things awkward for everyone in the group and they shouldn’t have to feel like they have to choose between the two of us.

We ordered food for everyone and made more drinks. Out of no where Heath came by with Jason and Toddy. I hoped and prayed Jeff wouldn’t show up, not only because I’m heartbroken but because of the embarrassment I would have to feel.

An hour later everyone was pretty drunk except for Jason, Carly, and Erin who decided to stay sober for everyone who will probably need a ride home later. We were all laughing and having a great time, David hauled ass over here when he heard Zane and I were drunk.

“Oh fuck I forgot Ilya is landing in like an hour, who wants to come with me to pick him up?” David asks, Natalie and I raise our hands while everyone decides to stay back and just wait for us

The car ride over was us loudly singing along to David’s music. I brought some alcohol with me since I needed to escape and I know Ilya wants to turn the fuck up.

“Daddy Ilya” I yell, trying to catch his attention, David and Natalie groan from behind me at the horrible nickname

Ilya quickly runs to the Tesla and hops into the passenger seat. We drove back to my apartment while David filmed Ilya in the front drinking the rest of my vodka. Natalie grabs my arm and points the familiar truck in the garage...

... Who the fuck invited Jeff...

“What’s wrong princess peach?” Ilya asks, noticing that I was still in the Tesla

Natalie pulled the two guys away and explained as best as she could and as fast as she could. David and Ilya nodded their heads and walked over to me. I had shaken off my rush of anxiety while they were talking. To be honest, I don’t know if I’m upset with him for rejecting me or if I’m upset that he shows up to my apartment and will either pretend I don’t exist or pretend like nothing happened.

“Fuck it. Ilya, it’s your job to make me drunk as hell. Gimme” I said, taking the bottle from him and chugging the rest and using some leftover Red Bull

I unlock the door and step inside. Todd, Jeff, and Zane are in the living room talking... well Zane isn’t really talking and to be fair I don’t really know if he’s in this realm right now. The girls and Matt are all standing in the kitchen, giving Jeff side glares and talking in hushed voices. I close the door loudly to get everyone’s attention. They all turn to me and burst into smiles when the notice Ilya. They all greet him and I walk over to the side, grabbing a cup and making myself another drink.

“Shots for the boy” Todd yells, we all gather in the kitchen and I make sure to stand as far away from Jeff as possible, 90% out of embarrassment and 10% out of annoyance and anxiety

The ones who were drinking take shots and we all start catching up with Ilya. He’s telling us stories about work, and things he’s done with Deema. After a few minutes of catching up, the boys went to the parking lot to film some bits in David’s car. The girls gave me THE look and we went to my room and locked the door. Suzy listened while also keeping an ear out for them so there isn’t a repeat of the other night.

“I love Jeff, he’s one of my good friends.. but what the fuck was his thought process before coming here?” Carly asked, annoyed that not even 24 hours after he rejects me he shows up to my place

“Guys, it’s ok. I know this was supposed to be girls night but it turned into a hangout with everyone. And I’ll get over this eventually, I’ll be fine” I say, the room goes silent, even Suzy knows I’m definitely bullshitting

“I know you’re trying to make yourself feel better and trying to comfort us so we don’t worry about you. But babe... before lunch we didn’t know you were in LOVE love with him. Sure he didn’t know about your feelings, but at the same time I think a part of him had to know that the flirtationship between the two of you would’ve ended with someone catching feelings. It sucks that it has to be you. Please just allow yourself to be honest about how you feel. It sucks, but the sooner you confront your emotions the sooner you can start healing” Natalie said, I stare at her with my mouth ajar

“That’s a whole bible verse baby” I reply, feeling a lot better with this girl time but Suzy gives us a signal that the boys are back

We go to the living room and joke around for a few more minutes. After that everyone packs their things, and right when I’m about to go back in my room to get ready for bed I noticed Jeff lingering around a little bit. I shrug it off and enter my room.

“Hey..” a voice says, I freeze and immediately feel all kinds of emotions rise up, just one word and I’m already sobering up

“What do you want Jeff?” I ask, turning around and seeing him slumped over in my doorway

“I just wanted to check in” he replies, I sigh and sit on my bed

“Listen, I know we’re still friends and I know we don’t want to make things awkward for everyone, but for the sake of me and what I need, I would please like some time away from you. I’m really sorry, but I need to heal, I didn’t just have some middle school crush on you man.” “You don’t need to explain anything to me Sage” Jeff cuts me off but I shake my head and pat the space next to me so he can sit

“I’m in love with you. I wrote songs about you, I started craving your touch, your attention. I still loved you at your worse. Believe me, I wanted to make a move but I had no guarantee that you were going to love me back. And now I know, at the end of the day I’ll never be her” I reply, Jeff immediately knew who I was talking about, Ava

Ava and Jeff were together for a few short months, but believe me when I say this was like walking through a dumpster fire on a unicycle that was also on fire. It was clear to everyone from the start that Ava was with him s imply because he was slowly gaining popularity and well... his looks. Long story short apparently they got into a huge fight one night and she admitted that she was only using him for her own gain. It was a touchy time for all of us and Jeff, we told him what we thought and eventually found out (through our fans on insta who are little detectives) and he didn’t want to hear it.

“I should go. I’ll give you your time..” he says quietly, I nod and walk him to the door

After he leaves I slide my back down the door and pull my knees to my chest. I just lost my best friend because I couldn’t keep my dumbass mouth shut. Emotions come rushing through me and I can’t help but cry. I want nothing more than to scream and just crawl into a hole right now. After letting myself accept the sadness I got up and went back to my room. It’s time for me to start moving on.. or at least trying to.

#vlog sqaud #vlog squad imagine #jeff wittek #jeff wittek imagine

[fractallogic]

Ffs BODY why are you doing this to me

All day long I’m all “ugh I’m so sweaty this is disgusting I hate how I smell and how I’m just …damp and there are SO MANY STAIRS who tf said it was okay to have SO MANY FUCKING STAIRS in one city”

And all day I’m like “maybe scone will be Up For It. Maybe I can convince myself to be Up For It. I should shower so I feel better. We’ve been having a ‘rest’ day today. It has been at LEAST six months since we’ve slept together both due to distance circumstances and due to these fucking antidepressants making me go ‘sex? Never heard of it’.”

And then we do the walk around the lights, which, meh. Was fine. Had a burger, which oh my fuck was very good, like not “in n out after not having it for two years” good or smashburger Arizona or Colorado state special burger good, but it was “wow this BUN??? This MEAT??? Wow this is GOOD” good. At last returned to the Airbnb. Drank a whole bunch of water because you get so very thirsty when water comes in tiny European-sized glasses at room temperature. I have never been so ready for a shower in my life, as I have thought literally every evening since the evening of the 27th of December. Sat down on the couch. Realized I felt like I was hit by a truck. “Okay all I have to do is shower and go to sleep”.

Scone goes “hm that sounds like a good idea” and I cannot possibly put two and two together until the very end of his shower when he comes back into the room where I’m laying half-asleep with my feet up the wall and goes, “so… are you tired” (which is one of the code words for “do you want to have sex”) and this wave of guilt-shame-and-too-much-water-ingesting nausea washes over me for wanting nothing more than to go to sleep but also make scone happy and AT SOME FUCKING POINT before I was on the current meds I TOO ENJOYED HAVING SEX and I excuse myself and go to the bathroom and brush my teeth trying to psyche myself up for it, but of course since I said “yes I’m exhausted I’m sorry” he took it like a reasonable human being and decided to get ready for bed, and then the guilt deepens because I am so excited to GO TO SLEEP and I also just really don’t want to be here anymore that yes, I do start crying as I try to explain that I’m sorry, it’s not him, I’m so tired, I’m so sorry, and he, like a rational human, is like no it’s okay don’t worry, I understand!! Go to bed, it’ll happen someday. And in my head I’m like BUT WHAT IF IT DOESNT. WE ARE GOING TO GET FUCKING DIVORCED AND I HAVENT SENT THE THANK YOU NOTES OUT. WE CANT GET DIVORCED WHILE YOUR GREEN CARD IS PROCESSING—and I’m too tired to stop myself from doing the catastrophization spiral, so it’s just going to sit in my brain and I’m going to let it and hope it doesn’t turn out too bad if I just acknowledge that the feelings are there and not feed the brain trolls.

And at some point I will have to have or remind him of having the conversation about hey yeah so because I have found and slept with the scum of the earth, I’ve also been emotionally and sexually abused by multiple people, so I very much love and appreciate your attitude about it, but I also need lots of reassurance that you aren’t going to be mad or something so that I can stop making long and rambling and incoherent posts on tumblr about it

Also we can cuddle, we just can’t Cuddle(tm), which is why we need to find another alternative euphemism for having sex

(IMAGINE our mutual confusion when he says “do you want to cuddle” after a date one night and I’m like hell fuck yeah I want to cuddle!!! thinking “yeah I want the biggest squishiest sidewaysest hug snuggle you can give me”, and he’s like fuck yeah let’s get naked and I’m like … what. And he’s like …??? What???? And I use my Native Speaker Intuition(tm) to go oh shit that was a EUPHEMISM that was PRAGMATICS and TABOO AVOIDANCE not literal cuddling (and then I explain it to him, only slightly more coherently than that, and go thank god you’re also a linguist so I can say that to you in that way), and so every time I have to adjust my expectations and elaborate when I go “yes let’s CUDDLE”)

#excuse me today I am deep in a pit of self-loathing apparently #please bring me out of it sleep

[straw-of-the-hat]

A Lillian x Katsuki soulmate au???? I'm sorry but soulmate au's are a hole i have fallen far into.

Lillian x Katsuki: soulmate edition

(Not edited! Expect typos!!!!)

These headcanons belong to this fic.

-Soulmates are rare. So terribly rare, in fact, that few still believe they exist. They're more of a legend these days— a myth, if you will. Despite this, everyone seems to know what they are. And deep down, everyone wants one.

-Katsuki's parents aren't soulmates. His grandparents aren't either. His aunt and uncle aren't soulmates in the least. In fact, they'd gotten a divorce last June and has left one another on rather nasty terms last he heard.

-His mom used to tell him stories. Stories about meeting your fated other and becoming so indescribably complete that you'd wonder how you even functioned before. It was the few times his mother would go from loud and rambunctious to serene and soft. Her change in demeanor was how he knew, growing up, that she was telling the truth..

-Of course, he wouldn't tell anyone he thought they were true. Or that he daydreamed about finding one.

-Katsuki felt he was missing something. It made him mad that it wasn't there. Something in him was empty and gnawing. He wasn't sure why. He had a powerful quirk and was praised by those around him for such. He made good grades. He even had a couple extras to follow him around.

-A soulmate was what he was missing, he deduced for what had to be the millionth time. Not that he'd tell anyone.

-Becoming the number one hero was his chance. The only way he'd ever hunt them down! He'd be known worldwide, and somewhere, someday, they'd know.

-That, and he'd be the strongest hero ever. Which was just the sprinkles on top really.

-He joined UA, angry and not willing to make friends. He noticed someone rather quick. He had never dated or really had his eye on anyone. If he was going to be with anyone, it would be his soulmate.

-So why on God's green motherfucking earth did Lillian Faust draw his attention?

-He didn't know. He had no idea! He tried to talk to her, but she was honestly pathetic. Short, scrawny, shy. He dwelled on her constantly. Constantly! He'd stare at her, doodle her in his notebook absentmindedly, try to count the freckles on her face and arms. It was just this constant nagging feeling that drove him nuts.

-He decided she was an extra. An irritating one.

-She kicked ass at the USJ shortly thereafter. He rescended his decision that she was a nobody.

-There was something up with Lillian. Lillian, who'd stopped using her last name. She walked home with friends, so he didn't get the chance to confront her anymore. The blonde one would bark at him. Literally. Like a dog. Fucking pathetic.

-Things were hard after that. Lillian, Lillian, Lillian. His parents started to ask what the fuck was wrong. Why was he so quiet? Did he need help? Was he depressed? Why was his search history all UA's digital yearbook? Was he looking at his student photo?

-He was looking at Lillian's, actually. Like he'd tell them that.

-Strangely enough, he wasn't embarrassed about this... Whatever this was. He didn't being it up because he's get teased, but it didn't bother him like it should've. He was irritated and confused because he couldn't figure this out, but not... Not annoyed with her, or disgusted.

-He thought long and hard. He was shit with feelings. Complete, utter shit. He went over the facts one at a time.

-Lillian was strong. With her quirk, she could stop him in his tracks. There was no a way to stop someone who could blink and freeze you in place without you even knowing she'd done it until after the fact. This should've angered him, but it didn't. It made him... Want to laugh.

-She had long black hair and was covered in freckles. Her hair was always messy and he found it endearing. He wanted to count and trace her freckles. There were so many, and he could almost map out constellations with them the more he looked.

-Katsuki's favorite color had been red his whole life. Lillian's eyes were aqua blue. Subsequently enough, his favorite color had switched to that exact shade of blue shortly after he joined UA. Odd. Probably not a coincidence, he begrudgingly admitted.

-He would not mind hugging her. He sort of wanted to. The more he thought about it, the more okay it seemed. That wouldn't be that odd if he hasn't blown up Kaminari yesterday after he'd accidentally brushed shoulders with him.

-A bit of google searching had him at a simple yet horrifying conclusion. This was, without a doubt, a crush.

-They next few days had his head spinning. He'd never had a crush before, so why now? Where had he gone wrong? What had triggered it? Could he make it go away?

-He practically drilled holes in her head in the days leading up to the sports festival. He may as well have been drooling. He deduced that his crush was going nowhere.

-He almost ran into her in the hall just before the festival, in fact. She was dressed in shorts and a shirt that said "Team Eraserhead" on it, and had her hair up in a ponytail that was falling apart. She was sweaty and breathless, and clearly in some sort of pain, but she... Well, she smiled.

-He was gone. Done for, really. Something was amiss, and he didn't know how to make it stop. Lillian has hooked him, and boy was he sinking right now. What was going on?

-She won the race with her two friends in the first round, and one piece clicked into place. Nothing enough to give him any sort of full picture, but it was... something. Something deeper than a crush.

-She dominated in the second round with ease and surprising confidence. He felt annoyed watching her laugh with Shoto Todoroki. Jealous, even. Another piece clicked.

-She asked him to join some sort of fucking protection squad. She was kind and genuine. He couldn't say no. It was another piece.

-Talking to her made him less angry. He felt calm and more like himself than he had... well, ever really. He was collected, and just... happy. He could laugh, and smile, and roll his eyes in a teasing way. This was another piece. One to a nearly full picture. One he could almost make out.

-The last piece fell into place during the final portion of the sports festival. Before it started, they had all the contestants come out and shake hands with one another. It was sort of a show of good faith. One he didn't want to participate in.

-But then it was time to shake Lillian's hand. And the stadium's roar fell on deaf ears, and everyone else ceased to exist. The cameras zoomed in on them, and Present Mic made some witty remark about opposites colliding. But Katsuki couldn't look away from Lillian, and neither could she.

-Their hands collided. And everything seemed to change in an instant.

-Her hand was small and warm in his, and it sent a shockwave rippling out. It was powerful and physical. Not something he'd imagined based on how silent the stadium got. His world brightened, and he couldn't believe how full it'd been before. Lillian's eyes were so much... Fuller than he'd realized. Full of blues he hadn't realized existed.

-There was silence. He didn't let go. She didn't either. They just stood there in the eerie silence, staring at one another in shock. And Bakugo realized he didn't feel so empty anymore.

-He told her in a quiet voice that carried through the entire stadium that she was his soulmate. That she was what had been missing.

-Her brilliant smile and the roar of the crowd told him he wasn't wrong.

More:

-Scientists contact them and want to study their bond, but they refuse.

-Being apart makes Katsuki antsy. It doesn't feel right when she's not there.

-Aizawa despises him

-So does Mic but in a more passive aggressive manner.

-Lillian can feel Katsuki very vividly and knows when he's in any sort of emotional turmoil.

-Hitoshi and Neito are very, very weary of him and he's constantly under a microscope when they're around. Of course he doesn't give a shit

-The world now knows there's soulmates. Everyone in that stadium felt that wave, and the camera literally picked it up. There's a new frenzy of people trying to find their other half

-A few actually do. But only a few.

-Mitsuki and Masaru don't believe it. When their son comes home, he's just as rude as he's always been.

-But then Lillian shows up, cleaned up after the festival. And she wraps their son in a hug, and Katsuki is smiling and laughing in a way they've never seen

-They love Lillian for giving him that

-Katsuki can feel Lillian's nerves and knows how to calm them

-The class is hyper-aware of everything they do. Every glance Katsuki throws her is met with a wolf whistle and every whisper exchanged us observed with curious eyes

-Lillian and Katsuki learn not to mind

-They fit together so naturally. Lillian couldn't even imagine being anxious around him, and she doesn't know why. She's just... not.

-When they first kiss it feels natural and a lot like coming home

-They're a fairly private and subtle couple. 1-A almost doesn't think they're together until the dorms come into play.

-It's the way Lillian throws her legs over Katsuki's when they're sitting on the couch, and the manner in which Bakugo puts an arm over her shoulders and leans into her to look at something on her phone that tells them.

-He's softer with her. Still himself, but kinder in a way. It's so... Normal. It makes sense without making any at all at the exact same time. The way they talk to each other is simply how it's meant to be, they guess

-They're pitted against each other in hero training one day by drawing lots. It's completely by chance, and supposed to be just simple hand to hand combat

-They just stand there and stare at one another. And when Aizawa asks what the hold up is, they just blink. They simply... don't. They can't. It's not possible. It makes zero sense in their minds. The idea couldn't even occur to them, even for training purposes.

-So, they're not put against one another anymore. They find it's for the best.

-Anytime one of them is hurt, the other had a very obvious reaction. Lillian falls and scrapes up her knee quite nastily, and Katsuki is already turning around with wide eyes. He looks like he's seem a ghost. The same thing happens to Lillian, whether the injury is big or small.

-They're practicing working in teams and get paired together. All Might and Aizawa have never once in their lives seen a more efficient team. Their quirks are stronger and more durable when they're together, they realize.

-Katsuki tells Lillian he loves her. It's stated in a very matter-of-fact way, as though it's obvious.

-And it is. Lillian loves him too. She tells him as such.

-Overall, they're just two peas in a pod. And everything just... Fits.

#fanfic #bnha #mha #my hero academia #bnha bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bnha oc #soulmate #soulmate au #bnha fanfiction #bnha bakugo katsuki