#((Hopefully that's fine; if you line them up side-by-side it still works out.))

[riding-the-sunset-bird]

A character reference based on all four Steps of Our Life! It's only "sort of" a height reference as well since obviously they're not 100% accurate (the devs don't have specific heights for everyone to my knowledge).

I did dig into the code to try and get characters at their "normal" heights but there are other matters at play too (example: Nicolas is obviously "taller" than he should be because he needs to be pushed upwards to be visible enough above the game's text box; likewise with other very short characters).

Still, this should serve as either a nice reference guide for every character or a "height reference" in the sense of getting an idea of which characters are shorter/taller than others.

I'm also going to detail some extra notes below the break, including posts from GB Patch's Tumblr that reference any defined heights (with Cove being the obvious one) or general height things, as well as some more stuff about the MC's height in comparison to the three love interests depending on what you pick.

Cove's height is listed on GB Patch's FAQ as 4' 1" in Step 1 (also stated as "mostly average, perhaps a bit on the short side"), 5' 4" in Step 2 (in-game this is defined as "very tall" on the MC's potential height spectrum, as that is the only option considered on par with Cove's height), 6' 0" in Step 3, and 6' 4" in Step 4. A fun fact is that Cove's final height was originally 6' 3" (191cm) instead.

Derek in Step 2 is under five feet tall (this post also lists Cove as "around 5 and a half feet tall" which you could take as either close enough to 5' 4" as stated above or a potential original height he had that got changed). In-game, he's "short" but not "very short", as having your MC be "very short" will prompt narration telling you that you're shorter than Derek, whereas "short" only has you relate to him in smolness generally.

Step 4 Derek is "mostly average." He wouldn't be considered tall nor would he be considered short. His youngest brother Nicolas will "probably end up as a similar height to him" once he's more grown up.

Step 4 Baxter is "taller than average, but not especially tall."

I've been informed that, on the Our Life Patreon Discord, Step 4 Derek's height is listed as 5' 9" (175cm) whereas Step 4 Baxter's is listed as 5' 11" (180cm), so those are their defined heights. Before that, both of their heights had jumped around somewhat. A post from 2019 said that Derek was 5' 11", but a post from June 2021 said that Baxter was 5' 11" and Derek was 5' 9" (so consistent with the Discord). Then there's also another post from July 2021 (you'll have to scroll down for this one) that listed Baxter at around 5' 10" while Derek was 5' 8"/5' 9". If you're insane enough to try and use the character reference too, then Baxter would actually be around 6'1" at minimum since he's taller than Step 3 Cove (though you could also make the same argument that this means the mom trio of Pamela, Noelani, and Kyra must be decently tall as well since they're so close to Cove on the character reference).

I don't have any experience with GB Patch's other game, XOXO Droplets, so I don't know what ages the characters are in it, but since both Shiloh and Jeremy are characters seen visibly in Our Life, I thought I'd also mention that they're listed as 5' 10" and 5' 5" (or 5' 5 1/2") respectively in XOXO Droplets. Jeremy also apparently grows to 5' 8" in his 20s and he's 22 in the Our Life Cove Wedding DLC (I don't think this is spoken of in the game specifically but he's labeled as 22 in the code).

As for the MC and how their height plays into things, "tall" and "very tall" as well as "short" and "very short" tend to be considered the same for the most part in the game's code. It's not that there isn't a difference at all (I would say it's still notable), it's just that sometimes the game may be more vague about height differences. My post about Errands references this where you don't need more athletic points due to being "very short" instead of "short" to give Cove a piggyback ride.

A guesstimate I'd make is that about 5% of the time, the game will take note of whether you're "very tall" instead of "tall" or "very short" instead of "short." Otherwise, you're either "generally tall," "average," or "generally short." There are also other instances (usually with Cove) where the game might just check if you're either generally tall (around Cove's height) or not generally tall (i.e: definitely shorter than him).

This is actually relevant to the heights because, following all above information, one would assume that Step 4 Derek is average, Step 4 Baxter is tall, and Step 4 Cove is very tall going off the MC's potential "height spectrum" of very short, short, average, tall, and very tall, but it's not entirely the case.

A "tall" MC (generally tall) will look "down" at Step 4 Baxter just as he will look "up" at them or they'll look directly at each other if the MC is "average," same as Step 3 Baxter, but--

when the game has any instance of differentiating between "tall" and "very tall" (they never do this for Step 3 Baxter so the base assumption would have to be that he's just average height), things change.

During Baxter's apology in the wedding of his Step 4, Baxter dips his chin to look at the MC if they're "short"/"very short," levels his chin to look at the MC if they're "average"/"tall," and then lifts his chin to look at the MC if they're "very tall." A generally tall MC still has to lean down to kiss him if they choose to do so though.

Also, during the intimacy scene with Baxter (either in his office or his living room), if the MC is "very short," "short," or "average," it states that Baxter is taller than them. If they're "very tall," then Baxter is shorter than them, but a "tall" MC is "almost the exact same height" as him.

This is all a really long-winded way of saying that GB Patch referring to Step 4 Baxter being "taller than average but not especially tall" might mean that he's some infuriating middle ground between average and tall where he's not quite one but not quite the other either (which honestly is very Baxter of him so I can't even be mad).

#type: helpful #type: cracking the cove #our life #olba #our life: beginnings & always #((If you line up the images yourself then make sure the height of the original images are all the same)) #((I don't know if Tumblr squished any.)) #((Let me know if I'm missing anyone!)) #((I know there's Step 3 Jeremy and someone named Cala in Derek's Step 4 (haven't gotten there yet))) #((but you only see those two on the phone so there is no ''default'' position/size for them.)) #((Also I was worried that Tumblr would eat the quality if I uploaded such long images)) #((so I separated Steps 2 and 3 and 4 into multiple images.)) #((Hopefully that's fine; if you line them up side-by-side it still works out.)) #((Me feeling so exposed because now how I design my Coves is here for everyone to see.)) #((Feel free to judge my bias towards the color blue.))

[luveline]

May I pretty please request an emergency medicine doctor!reader x Hotch blurb? I’d love to see both of them in careers that are difficult, yet despite that they still manage to be together because they understand each other so much. Maybe something with the rest of the team as well if it’s possible 🫶🏼🥹

Emily used to think Hotch would never be happy again. She’d drive him home after work, pick him up in the mornings, and she’d think about how miserable he was, the kind of misery that hooks you in its grip, has you turning to wine or whiskey just to keep breathing. 

She thought for sure he’d buckle. When Hayley died, he’d have to. How could you not? But he kept going and proved she should’ve had more faith in him, becoming the father Jack deserves, and, surprisingly, your partner. 

“You’re squeezing me too tight,” you mumble, just loud enough for Emily and the others to hear you where Hotch hugs you a few feet from the dinner table. “Why are you trying to break my back?” 

“I haven’t seen you in three weeks.” 

“Eighteen days is not three weeks.” 

“It might as well be.” Hotch peels away from you to give you a once over. Emily’s half jealousy and half fondness, seeing him love someone so obviously. “Are you hungry? I ordered for you.” 

“Super hungry. Do I smell like antiseptic?” 

“No, just soap.” 

“Well, that’s not much better.” 

Hotch puts his arm behind your back and guides you to the table. The team squeeze out hellos between mouthfuls and you take your place at Hotch’s side behind a steaming plate. You’re as ravenous as the rest of them after your long shift; Morgan can hardly get a word out of you for the first ten minutes, though he tries, and you attempt to be polite. Emily nudges him until he gets the hint to stop. 

“Here,” Hotch says, putting a heaping of his food onto your plate with a large spoon. 

“Stop.” You attack his spoon with a fork. 

“It’s fine, you like it more than I do.” 

“Don’t care. You need your energy. I’m going to make you carry me up the stairs home.” 

He’s unintimidated. “Ah.” 

“Ah,” you echo. “You sound so doubtful.” 

Hotch looks like he might try to keep flirting with you, but he gives in quickly, betraying how much he’s missed you with a hand slipping under the table. Emily sees his fingers curl over your knee, averting her gaze with a feigned sip of coke. 

She can deduce the silent question you ask one another about anyways. 

“We’ll have dessert,” you say. We won’t skip out early. “What are you having, Dr. Reid?” 

Hotch orders you three different things, which you eat fast. 

“They’re not feeding you at the hospital?” Rossi asks. 

“Three emergency transfers in twelve hours,” you explain, slouching now into Hotch’s side, one slow inch at a time. “I didn’t have time for much.” 

“That’s not healthy,” Hotch murmurs in concern. 

“I’m sure I can ask any of your friends about your eating habits and find a similar schedule,” you brush him off, raising your gaze to Emily, then Morgan, then Rossi and Reid. Everyone smiles the same way. Hotch is caught, and his laugh jostles your shoulder. 

“Have you ever heard the saying, ‘do as I say, and not as I do?’” he asks. 

God, Emily thinks with a huff of a laugh she can’t contain, get a room. 

“He likes that one,” Spencer says. 

“I don’t doubt it.” You lift your lips to his jaw and press a peck to the line of it. One, then two. “Maybe that’s why we've lasted as long as we have. Mutual disregard for our wellbeing.” 

“And a great deal of care for each other,” Rossi says, nodding sagely. “This is why my marriages never last.” 

“Is that why?” Spencer asks. 

“You’ve gotten to be quite the lark.”

“Lark,” Hotch whispers to you. Emily, sitting at his other side, might be the only one who hears, the others distracted by Spencer and Rossi’s ensuing squabble.

“Scoundrel,” you agree. 

“How’s your head now?” 

“It’s gonna be a hundred percent better if you give me that,” you say, pointing hopefully at his full drink. 

He doesn’t hesitate to press it into your hand. Emily would never suspect you hadn’t seen one another for weeks; you move and he follows. You rub your cheek against his shoulder. He touches his nose to your hair, his eyes shuttering closed for one stolen, blissful second. “Missed you,” he says under his breath. 

Emily looks away with a smile. Hotch isn’t hopelessly miserable anymore. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[disneyprincemuke]

for the girls * fem!driver

she isn't worrying about being on track for the first time - she worries about the media.

pairings: sebastian vettel x fem!driver, f1 grid x reader

warnings: literally a piece of garbage, SO inaccurate, no idea what i’m doing…

notes: this is sOOO BAD PLS I DIDN'T KNOW HOW TO WRITE THIs man

also, please feel free to send it some scenarios for this series! you can send them in here freeflow~ none of these will be posted in chronological order so don’t worry about it

(series masterlist) | (📂 the rookie season)

"here is sebastian vettel's personal addition to the grid, (y/n)," the interviewer grins, turning to face the girl. "welcome to the 2023 formula 1 season. thank you for coming in."

"thank you for having me," she smiles, hands clasped together in front of her. she's been following sebastian around all day - she doesn't want to be left alone in such a tough crowd.

"how does it feel to be the first woman in formula 1 in almost 2 decades?"

"i'm very thankful for the opportunity given to me to achieve this spot on the grid. i hope i'll be good enough to create a difference and be the stepping stone towards more women in the sport," she answers cordially, moving her arms slightly.

interviews, unfortunately, were also a very big part of the job. she didn't really mind it, but she knew the controversy of her being in the sport, and it's been driving her insane since the pre-season testing.

"and of course congratulations on your move from formula 2 to the main league. how do you feel about the doubters or naysayers who are saying you don't belong here?"

"i think it's unfair to assume my placement in the season before it has even started. i have worked as hard as everybody else to get where i am today, so i'm just really hoping that the fact that i am a woman does not overshadow all my achievements."

she's seen all that's said about her. the news articles, the videos criticising sebastian's choice to vouch for her, and the comments under her posts and announcements - it's very disheartening.

sebastian has tried his best to tell her otherwise, telling her time and time again that he wouldn't have vouched for her if he didn't think she had the potential to be here.

"and how are you getting along with everybody else on the grid?"

"very good. i mean, we've already been acquainted for years and that really helped me out a lot," she laughs, locking eyes with sebastian doing an interview right next to her. "but it is still a competitive sport. it's going to be a climb out there from my starting position at 18th. hopefully it will be a good race."

"of course, good luck out there."

"thank you so much."

"just like we talked about. you'll be fine," sebastian folds his arms over his chest, leaning back into the wall.

she's pulling the sleeves of her race suit over her shoulders. "why don't i believe you," she mutters, looking down at her shoes to avoid his eyes. "think about what the media would say if i don't finish in the points today."

"who cares about what the media has to say? just do your best out there today," sebastian repeats, patting her shoulder lightly to get her attention.

he flashes her a grin when she looks up, only to have her roll her eyes as she zips up. "me. i have to face the interviewers later, remember? not you."

"just race like you always have. you're doing this for yourself. not the media, not the insecure guys hiding behind a screen, and definitely not the interviewers." he grabs her shoulders, shaking her just slightly to lighten up the mood. "i'll be in your ears to help you out, okay?"

she sighs, leaning slightly to the side to grab her balaclava off the table. "promise to tell me when i'm being reckless?"

"i'm your race engineer. i've got you."

he turns her around, towards the track where the cars have lined up. "get out there and shut them all up. you're doing this for the girls, remember that."

"right. for the girls," she huffs, wiping her hands on her race suit. she takes the helmet that sebastian is holding out to her and gives him a smile. "okay. i'll talk to you through the radio."

and she does everything she has to do. she’s in the race car, anticipating the formation lap that’s about to start.

days leading up to this moment, she didn’t think she would be so nervous to be behind a wheel. she doesn’t typically let the feeling get to her so much.

but it’s different now that it’s being broadcasted to the entire world. she’s now watched by ten times her normal viewership.

“radio check,” sebastian’s voice comes into her ears. his voice has become a significant point to calming her down behind the wheel. you would be surprised how well he can calm her down just by his voice.

“copy.” she breathes into the mic unknowingly as she exhales, looking up and taking in her view.

her car was surrounded by the engineers, making the final touches on the car and triple checking all the components.

within a few seconds, she can see the sky as they disperse — the sun is shining bright and there are barely any clouds. to her right is yuki, also looking around the grid and the grandstand.

she locks eyes with him as he looks around, her eyes crinkling at the corners to acknowledge him. he returns the gesture with a smile through his eyes then a thumbs up to wish her luck.

she lifts her hand above the halo and returns the thumbs up.

“okay, the first car has taken off for the lap. i’ll check in on you again in a while.”

her grip on the steering wheel is tight despite the engine being turned off. she’s proud of herself for making it through her first race in the league, even parking the car neatly in parc ferme.

“you did amazing.”

“you’re only saying that. i didn’t even finish in the points,” she answers dejectedly, rolling her eyes to herself.

sebastian tries to make light of every situation, even if the normal person would not be able to find that in a frustrating position. but he was also a rookie once. the least he could do is empathise and try to make this experience less daunting for her.

he’s investing in her — her talent is impeccable, but he has to make sure that he fosters and encourages her into the best version of herself. the racer that he knows she is, she just needed someone to actively believe in her.

“the climb from p18 to p11 is good progress. the season just started, kid. the only way is up.”

“sure,” she chuckles. “i’m getting out of the car. see you in a bit, seb.”

taglist: @wcnorris @treehouse-mouse (comment to be added)

#what is this nonsense #i hate it #sebastian vettel x reader #disneyprincemuke #disneyprincemuke imagine #disneyprincemuke f1 #fem!driver #female driver #f1 x reader #f1 grid x reader

[sweetsreverie]

I absolutely love the Ghost x Pink!Reader fic you wrote! Could you write a sequel? Maybe a breakfast next morning + cute and fluffy waking up with Simon. Those two were apart from each other for a while I assume so being a bit clingy is understandable.

summary: pt. 2 of this opposites attract fic. you and simon spend the morning together before he leaves once more.

pairing: simon "ghost" riley x female reader

wc: 1,147

Simon and the rest of 141 slept soundly that night. Simon was glad to be at home with you, in his own bed, and the others were glad to not be sleeping on the ground and in a proper house. You’d also given Soap a sherpa-lined blanket to sleep under, and he definitely enjoyed that.

As happy as you were to have Simon home for the night, you knew it was going to be just that: for the night. He would probably be leaving as soon as the sun came up, and it wouldn’t be too out of the ordinary for you to wake up to his side of the bed empty and cold.

But when you woke up the next morning and opened your eyes, he was still beside you. He wasn’t asleep, but rather just resting beside you as you did.

“You guys haven’t left yet?” You ask him softly, and you stretch your arms out towards him, which he welcomes. You lean over and put your head on his chest, with your arm around his waist. Simon isn’t always one for cuddling, but he always lets you rest against him.

“We should probably be gone by now. But I don’t hear Price making a fuss so we must be fine.” Simon says softly in his gravelly morning voice that you’d come to love so much. His hair is tousled and his eyes are droopy, and it just makes you want to tuck him in once more.

“Let him make a fuss in my house. He’ll see.” You mumble against him, and you feel the small chuckle that leaves Simon.

“Yeah. you’ll give him hell, won’t you.”

“That’s right.”

Simon gives the top of your head a little tap of his fingertips, and he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead and brushes some hair away from your face once you turn and look up at him. 

His touch is featherlight as always.

“We should get up though. Don’t want those bums to think they can stay here forever.” Simon murmurs, and when he moves to try and sit up, your grip around his middle tightens.

“Five more minutes?” You ask him hopefully, and he settles back down in his spot on the bed.

You and Simon spend a few more minutes in the bed before you get up, and you make your way to the kitchen after freshening up in the bathroom, and Simon stays behind to brush his teeth.

The three other men are awake by the time you enter the room, and Price was already working on folding the blankets and cleaning up the pillows and things.

“Are you guys hungry? I can make some tea or coffee- I think we have some biscuits too?” You offer them, and honestly you don’t have a ton in the kitchen, considering you weren’t expecting to be feeding guests any time soon.

“That would be wonderful, thank you very much Y/N. We’ll be out of your hair shortly. Thank you for letting us stay the night here.” Price says while he takes a seat on the couch, and Soap sits down at the kitchen table while you start warming up a kettle of water.

“You know, I think Ghost is real lucky to have a woman like you in his life.” Soap says, and not even a second later, Simon steps in, clad in his gear and some clean clothes.

“And why is that?” He asks, and while you could barely contain the giggle that left you, Soap was quick to shut up. Simon’s hand brushes against your waist while he passes by you in the kitchen, and that definitely doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. 

The five of you sip on tea and munch on biscuits, and you know that shortly after, Simon is going to pack up his things and head out again.

Simon hates having to leave you. He hates not being able to tell you where he is, or when he’ll be home. That is.. if he comes home.

So while Price, Soap, and Gaz start to pack their things into the truck they came here in, Simon takes you back to the bedroom and sits on the bed with you. He sits with you on his lap, and one of your arms is around his neck while you lean against him.

“You know I’ll be back soon, love. I always come back to you, don’t I?” Simon asks you, and he reaches up to tuck some hair behind your ear. You nod, though you still always fear the worst while he’s away.

“You do. But that doesn’t mean I don’t worry about you while you’re gone.” You tell him softly, and he puts his hand on your knee and gives it an assuring squeeze.

“I don’t want you to worry yourself sick over me, Y/N. You know that.” Simon says while he rests his chin on top of your head. Simon doesn’t want to imagine you worrying about him while he’s away. He wants you to just take care of yourself, and he’ll return in due time. 

“Meeting your team makes me feel better, you know.” You tell him, and Simon lets out a quiet chuckle while he shifts on the bed, and gives you a gentle nudge so you stand up, and he stands up also.

“C’mon. I gotta get going” Simon says while he leads you out of the bedroom, and he slips his mask over his head during the short walk outside. You take his hand as you walk, and as the two of you exit the house, Soap grins at the sight of Ghost holding hands with someone.

“Alright, you guys be safe, okay? And you take care of my Simon.” You tell them, and Gaz lets out a quiet chuckle while Price gets in the truck.

“We all look out for each other, so don’t you worry. He’s in good hands. Mostly.” Gaz says while he looks over at Soap, who narrows his eyes at the man briefly.

“Alright, you two say your goodbyes then.” Soap says, and he glances at Gaz before the two of them climb in the truck.

Simon turns to you then, and he brushes a gloved finger over your cheek carefully. 

“I love you. I’ll see you soon, yeah?” He says in a hushed voice, as if the guys in the truck could hear him.

“I love you too. Take care of yourself and them. Come back home to me, Simon.” You return, and you stand up on your toes slightly to kiss his cheek over the mask before he gives you a wave, and he climbs in the car with the rest of 141.

You watch as they pull away from the house, and you and Simon share a glance before the truck disappears over the hill.

tag list: @ho3forghost @juggernaunt @shellfishb34ch @redpool

#simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #call of duty modern warfare 2 #call of duty reader insert #female reader #pink!reader #simon riley fic

[justyn1]

The Spycrab. Why does it exist?

What is a Spycrab?

A Spycrab is an iconic animation bug for the Spy from Team Fortress 2. This bug was introduced since the game’s launch in 2007 and still exists today!

This post will cover on what causes this bug happen, how to fix it, and why it SHOULDN’T be fixed.

Debugging the Spycrab

First we need to know how do you become a Spycrab in TF2. To become a Spycrab the player have to pull out the disguise kit, crouch, look up, then start moving in any direction.

This give us a clue on what’s going on. The issue is related to looking around while crouching with the Spy’s disguise kit. We can take a look at how Valve setup the Spy’s animations since they provided the model sources in the Source SDK. Let’s take a look at spy_movement.qci since that’s where they handle all of the animations related to moving around. From this point I will refer the disguise kit as PDA since that’s what it called in the sources. Looking at the entry for Crouch_PDA and Crouch_Walk_PDA everything seems to be written correctly. Theres nothing wrong with the code itself

Line 15: $sequence Crouch_PDA PDA_crouch_idle loop alignto a_reference addlayer PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle activity ACT_MP_CROUCH_PDA 1

Line 424: $MPCrouchWalkWithWeapon Crouch_Walk_PDA 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 0 PDA_crouch_walkN PDA_crouch_walkCenter PDA_aimmatrix_crouch_idle ACT_MP_CROUCHWALK_PDA $infoNode$  

This means that the issue is coming from one of the animations itself. Lets load up the PDA crouch animations in SFM and compare with the normal stand up animations.

Everything looks fine however there’s something odd with the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation. It’s in a different pose entirely! To summarize what a aim matrix do, the animator put the character in various poses mimicking that the character is looking around. The game will take those poses and blend between them depending on what direction the player is looking. Generally you don’t want to stray way from the idle pose too much since it can cause potential problems when blending between various poses at once.

With closer inspection, it seems the pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle animation is actually an early version of the spy’s knife aim matrix animation. Here’s both aim matrices side by side.

The Fix

Now knowing that the bug is created by accidentally exporting another aim matrix animation for the wrong weapon. The fix is actually very simple! Without touching the animation files itself. We can go into the spy_movement.qci and replace any mention of pda_aimmatrix_crouch_idle with pda_aimmatrix_idle and that’s it! Compiling spy_animations.qc and loading up TF2 we will see the Spycrab no longer works.

But should this bug really be fixed?

This is the part where I tell you that the Spycrab bug should never be fixed in TF2. Even though this bug was stemmed from a mistake and it’s pretty simple to fix. This bug should never be fixed purely because it’s very important for the game’s history and community. After this bug was discovered and popularized back in 2008. It spawns plenty of memes within the community and in-game references from community cosmetics and unusuals, an official rare taunt for the disguise kit, warpaints, and a poster from the map Carnival of Carnage a Halloween reskin of Doomsday.

Hopefully this post provide some interesting insight on how this iconic bug was created and the process of debugging animations in Source Engine!

#tf2 #tf2 spy #source engine #Youtube

[wileys-russo]

as you would assume all alessia x reader 😭

getting into a fight with alessia, would she be stubborn or very apologetic

alessia not being able to sleep without physical touch, but you can't sleep because you're too hot

being up late studying but alessia is tired from training and just wants to cuddle up but you really can't yet

taking care of her after a rough day

you don't need to post this one, just a couple ideas :]

couldn't fit all of these into one blurb but did a lil clingy gf less moment bc we love a touch starved blondie

touch starved II a.russo

"i can clean up later baby you look shattered, please go to bed." you tucked a loose strand of blonde hair behind your girlfriends ear, no denying you were positively infatuated with the striker.

"only if you come with me." alessia demanded with a pout, balling your top in her fists and tugging your body closer, your arms wrapping around her and playing with the baby hairs on the back of her neck, the italian a good half a foot taller than you.

"i'll be in later i have to finish this paper, its due by midnight." you bit your lip guiltily, admittedly having procrastinated your uni assignment just a little too long. "are you gonna be in the living room?" the blonde asked hopefully, assuming she could then at least lay down beside you as you worked.

"office, i need the scanner and printer." you shook your head, stomach lurching with guilt as the girls face visibly dropped at the answer she had hoped against hearing. "tomorrows my rest day i'll just stay up and wait for you, watch some more of my show." alessia decided, unwrapping herself from you and heading for the lounge.

"less you've been up since like four in the morning, just go to bed." you smiled at the stubborn nature of the older girl who shook her head, curling up into a ball on the lounge and flicking on the tv.

"i can't sleep without you there." alessia frowned and your heart melted at her words. "yes you can, you manage it on away games and camps." you smiled, cupping her face and tracing the frown lines on her forehead, smoothing them out with your thumbs.

"that's different!" alessia protested, though she visibly struggled in trying to explain how.

"fine but don't fall asleep in here, you'll hurt your neck again!" you cut in to save her further struggle and warned seriously as the striker rolled her eyes. you bent down to peck her lips before padding off to your office, which was really just the third bedroom of your shared flat. alessia often needing a quiet neutral space to do her media duties you'd both deemed it a more appropriate use of the space since you already had a guest bedroom set up.

around an hour and a half later you were tracking along well, you had another two hours until your paper was due and you were already halfway done.

craving something sweet to help your motivation levels you made your way toward the kitchen, though glancing over at the lounge you sighed noting the now dead asleep mop of blonde hair still curled up in a ball.

switching routes you made a beeline for your girlfriend, squatting down beside her and gently poking at the blonde who groaned and turned around to her other side as you turned off the tv.

"babe please go to bed!" you requested while shaking her as her bright blue eyes sleepily fluttered open and she stretched, the slight wince on her face as she moved her neck not going unnoticed by you.

"told you your neck would hurt you idiot." you remanded with a shake of your head, standing and offering her a hand up, a mistake on your behalf as the girl interlocked your fingers but instead pulled you to fall on top of her, long limbs wrapping tightly around you.

"alessia!" you laughed trying to squirm out of her grip but with the taller girls build much more muscular than your own, there really wasn't a point. "don't leave me i miss you, i haven't seen you all day." she mumbled into your shoulder as you rolled your eyes playfully.

"you were only at training for a few hours, we just had dinner together and i'm right here!" you rewarded her neediness with a kiss, alessia's large hands making their way under your top and caressing your bare back. her perfectly manicured nails gently scratched against your skin and your eyes fluttered closed in relief, a sense of calm settling over you, you could happily melt into the girl and never get up again.

but unfortunately you knew this was an option not available for the taking.

"do you not love me?" you asked rhetorically, snapping the half asleep girl to attention as she scoffed. "of course i do what sort of a question is that?" she accused only hugging you tighter as she pushed her legs to slot inbetween your own, your body now well and truly trapped in her iron clad grip.

"loving partners let their girlfriends do their assignments and further their education, do you not want to be able to brag that your girlfriends a fully qualified physiotherapist?" you challenged, admittedly now becoming quite uncomfortable in her grip, it was peak summer and without the luxury of air conditioning you were beginning to get quite hot tucked in so close together.

"actually no because then everyone's going to want your hands on them. don't pretend like you haven't already promised half the girls free massages and adjustments once you graduate!" alessia quipped, though the pride and adoration in her eyes betrayed the playful sarcasm of her statement.

"yeah these magic healers will sadly no longer only belong to you!" you grinned wiggling your hands in her face as she rolled her eyes and playfully bit the tip of your index finger, you flicking at her nose in retaliation.

"but seriously i need to finish my paper and though you are the hottest girl on the planet right now you are actually the hottest girl on the planet, i'm melting!" you whined, alessia allowing you to pull her hands off and untangling her legs from yours.

"go to bed my love, i'll be there in like an hour once i finish." you assured, alessia nodding with a defeated sigh as the two of you stood, exchanging a lingering hug and a goodnight kiss before you parted ways.

alessia headed off to the bathroom to get ready for bed and you back to the office, though not before a quick detour to the kitchen for something sweet.

"if you're not beside me in an hour i'm coming to get you!" alessia yelled from the bedroom before you heard a loud squeak and a thud which would have been the blonde belly flopping onto the mattress as she did every night, normally on top of you.

smiling at her words you zoned back into your paper, eyes flicking between your computer screen and your pile of messily scribbled notes which were spread everywhere all over the desk around you.

true to her word and being unable to fully fall asleep without you beside her in bed, alessia leant against the doorway exactly an hour later, clearing her throat as you spun around in your chair to face her.

giving her a brief look of both guilt and nerves you didn't have to say much more for alessia to catch on you still weren't finished. "i'll be back again in twenty minutes, and if you're still not done then i'll be back every ten minutes after that for a kiss." the blonde pouted as you couldn't help but smile at her clingy nature, this nothing new as the harder the striker was pushed in training the more she sought out your affections when she returned home, nodding in agreement.

"i'm trying." you assured seriously and your girlfriends face softened. "i know, and i want you to get it done so we can spend the day together tomorrow stress free. i've got plans!" alessia tilted up your chin, pecking your lips as you gave her a curious look.

"plans?" "for me to know, for you to eventually find out." "that's not a terrifying thought." "are you accusing me of being a bad planner?" "well...you did forget our-" "for the one hundreth time i didn't forget our anniversary, i just simply got the dates mixed up."

"do your paper, i love you." alessia stole another kiss, running a hand fondly through your hair before padding back off to the bedroom.

what felt like only minutes later, though you knew had been much longer due to your girlfriend popping in repeatedly to steal a kiss and try to hurry you into bed with her, you bit down on your bottom lip as your eyes glanced down at the time, seeing you suddenly had only five more minutes to finish your references index.

muttering to yourself your fingers flew curiously across the keyboard, and with what was surely seconds to spare you clicked submit, exhaling deeply and leaning back in your chair, burying your face tiredly in your hands.

closing your computer you darted quickly around the flat, locking up and flicking off lights and lamps, eventually stepping into your bedroom with a small sigh of relief, checking the window was cracked open to try and diffuse the heat of the sticky summer night.

alessia sent you a toothy smile as she scrolled through her phone, eyes occasionally flicking up to stare at you as you changed into an oversized shirt, tossing your shorts and bra into a corner to be dealt with tomorrow.

"hiii." alessia grinned and opened her arms as you finally made your way toward the bed, the girl laying on top of the covers due to the heat. "hello." you smiled tiredly and collapsed into her, reaching over to flick off the bedside lamp, engulfing the room into darkness as alessia placed her phone on charge.

sincere words of endearment whispered inbetween tender kisses and soft giggles, the two of you slowly began to doze off, though no sooner had alessias body relaxed did yours tense up, the combined body heat of the two of you making your brow line bead with sweat.

checking the italian was soundly sleeping you carefully shuffled away, placing a bit of distance between the two of you as your eyes shut, finally starting to drift off.

"c'mere." alessia mumbled tiredly, reaching blindly back out for you eventually grasping at your top, pulling you back toward her.

"baby i'm sweating its so hot, can we just have a little bit of space? we can still hold hands?" you tried to bargain softly, gently removing her hands from where they clenched tightly to your top and interlinking your fingers, alessia mumbling something incoherent but not making any move to argue as you let out a quiet sigh of relief.

though it couldn't have even been a few seconds later before there was rustling beside you and alessias body flopped on top of yours, the taller blonde burying her face in your neck and grabbing your arms, tiredly wrapping them around herself as she tangled her legs with yours and muttered something you again couldn't quite understand.

sighing in defeat you slid a hand up her top and began to absentmindedly trace patterns on her back, moving your other hand to tangle in her golden locks and scratching your nails against her scalp like you knew she loved, pressing a kiss to her warm forehead and accepting you simply weren't going to sleep well tonight.

but for the seemingly touch starved blonde sleeping soundly on top of you, it would always be worth it.

#woso #woso x reader #alessia russo x reader #alessia russo #woso fanfics #woso imagine #engwnt #woso community

[sw33tsuccubus]

𝐋𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐎𝐮𝐭

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jason todd x gn!reader

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: the power goes out, and reader gets a visitor.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 883

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: not really. reader has a job, reader leaves a door unlocked.

𝐀/𝐍: idk how/why i wrote this but here it is

Your phone pressed between your shoulder and your tilted head, you type away at your computer. If this assignment isn’t finished by tomorrow, your boss is going to be at your throat.

“Did you hear me, Y/n?”

You blink. Had Jason said anything? You tear your eyes from your screen, looking outside the window. The rain is still pouring, a flash of lightning appearing every few minutes. You turn your attention back to your computer.

“No, sorry. Can you repeat what you said?”

“I said that you should probably take a break. I’m about to go to bed, and we both know that it’s not normal for me to sleep before you.”

You nibble at your bottom lip. You still have plenty of work to do. No way you can stop now.

“I don’t know, Jay. There’s still so much I need to cover.”

“Just take a break. You need to refresh your mind and breathe a little.”

Your eyes ghosted over what you have down, silently checking for typos and grammar mistakes. Seeing none, you check what else you need. Honestly, not much. Roughly two paragraphs of work, you should be finished in less than twenty minutes, with the editing and stuff you’ll need to do.

“I’ll almost finish soon anyways, no point.”

You could hear rustling on his end, like he was getting into bed. He sighs.

“Don’t overwork yourself.”

“I’m not going to. Besides-“

You’re cut off as the entire room goes dark. You gasp, tapping different buttons on the computer. You then stand and peak outside the window. The apartment complex across from yours also seems to have gone out of power.

“What happened?”

Your boyfriend’s voice comes through the phone. You hope up and try the light switch, groaning when it doesn’t work.

“The storm cut the power. Same with the people across the road.”

He hums in acknowledgement on the other line. You make quick work of finding your candle cabinet, placing them around the apartment before looking for your lighter. You stumble over your own feet on your way to the kitchen, thumping on your side.

“What was that?”

Jason’s voice cuts through, laced with concern. He always worried about you. Props of being a Wayne, you guessed.

“I can’t see, tripped on my own feet. I’m fine.”

You stand, getting back to the kitchen and searching the drawers.

“I’m coming over.”

You can hear more rustling on his end. You smile. Of course he is, you could’ve lost your favorite movie DVD and he’d be on his way. You hear a zipper. Probably his leather jacket.

“Alright. I’m just looking for my lighter so that I can light my candles and have light sources.”

Once you find your lighter, you make a small noise of triumph. As your neck starts to cramp, you grab your phone to put the call on speaker. Nothing happens when you tap the screen or when you press the power button. Oh, it died.

You sigh, exasperated. Such a night. You can’t finish your project for work, your phone dies so you can’t communicate with the world, you can feel your apartment grow more cold since the heaters off, and all of your candles are about to be used up. You hope Jason shows up soon, so that you don’t wait for long. Also so that he doesn’t get pneumonia, since he prefers riding his bike over his car.

Once all the candles are lighted, you make your way to your bedroom. You slip into a sweater and crawl under the duvet. You had unlocked your door, knowing you wouldn’t want to get up to open it for Jason. Hopefully it’ll actually be your boyfriend opening the door, rather than some random person.

He didn’t take long. You hear the door open, and soon footsteps tread through your apartment. They stop behind your bedroom door, which slowly opens to reveal a familiar face. You smile at him, and he smiles back.

“You shouldn’t leave the door unlocked.”

“I knew you were coming, and I didn’t feel like getting back up into the cold to open the door.”

He shakes his head, kicking off his shoes and taking off his jacket.

“It’s still dangerous, Y/n. What if it hadn’t been me?”

“I knew you would’ve beaten whoever came in, since you were on the way.”

He climbs into bed beside you, pulling you against his chest. He sighs, wishing you’d be more careful. You cuddle up to him, wanting to sap up his warmth.

“At least you can sleep now. You wouldn’t have if you still had access to your computer.”

You frown.

“My boss is gonna be so mad.”

“Well, it wasn’t your fault. Tell him the truth, your power went out.”

One of Jason’s hands curl into your hair, gently massaging your head. You sigh, melting against him.

“Fine.”

He smiles, pleased.

“Now sleep. I can tell you’re tired.”

You swallow, pressing your cheek against his chest. He was warmth in the cold. Your own little heater. Your eyes close, and he lets out a content sigh as he closes his eyes as well. He makes sure you fall asleep before he does, so that you don’t try getting up to do the work while he’s out cold. Hypocrite.

#jason todd x reader #gn reader #jason todd

[jellyjays]

come away, oh ghostly child... (pt 3)

(PT 2 <-) (-> PT 4)

Dick lays in bed.

Phantom is tucked into his side, snuggling into his warmth. Dick doesn't know what to do. Whenever he moves even a millimeter away from the child, Phantom whines and snuggles back in, searching for comfort.

He supposes it's his fault. He'd brought the boy home, unsure what the protocol was for a ghost child. He'd laid the boy down on his bed, getting undressed and changing into pajamas before plopping down, intending to get up after a second and find out what to do.

That was when the boy had struck. Now he's here, stuck. It's like when a cat lays on your lap. It would be sacrilege to move and disturb them.

Sighing, Dick uses the hand on his free side to grab his phone. He's lucky it's close, or he'd be fucked.

He calls Babs, linking the audio to the comm still in his ear.

"Hey Dick, what's up?"

"Babs. I have a... situation."

"A situation, huh? Would this have anything to do with the call I got from Jason laughing his ass off about you taking after Bruce?"

"Damnit, I told him about this in confidence! Asshole. And he claims he's not a gossip."

"So, you've acquired a child."

"A ghost child, who can apparently turn into an alive child. Still confused about that."

"Hold up. You never said anything about a ghost. You're telling me you have the ghost kid who's been haunting Gotham for the past 3 months?"

"That I am."

"And said ghost kid turned into a living kid and fell asleep on you."

"Affirmative."

Babs sighs over the line.

"Go to sleep, Dick, and worry about it in the morning. Usually, I'd say something different, but you sound dead tired. Get some sleep, and hopefully, the kid will, too. We'll just hope he's there in the morning."

-

Dick wakes up, not realizing he'd fallen asleep. A glance at the phone in his hand tells him it's 7.

When he moves, he's interrupted by Phantom snuggling into his side again, chasing after his warmth.

Dick wastes no time in scooping the boy up to hold on his hip, which seems to work fine because Phantom doesn't protest.

He doesn't bother trying to change- still in his pajamas, he heads out to his kitchen with Phantom on his hip. He rifles through his fridge, looking for anything suitable for a young child- he has some eggs that are miraculously still good, some fruit he bought the day before, a pack of bacon, and some bread. Why is his bread in the fridge? He doesn't know. Ask past Dick, who probably made this choice while sleep-deprived.

Time to find out if cold bread makes bad toast.

Dick sets about making breakfast one-handed- he starts by putting the bacon on. While that cooks, he puts the bread in the toaster, then he scrambles the eggs. The eggs are finished quickly, so as the toast finishes and the bacon sizzles, he begins to dice some fruit. As he plates the breakfast, Phantom begins to stir, probably smelling the bacon and eggs.

Just as Dick sets the breakfast on the table, Phantom wakes up with a big yawn.

"Morning, sleepyhead. I made breakfast."

Phantom, still half asleep, nods and wiggles, so Dick sets him down in the chair, pulling his own chair out to sit across from the boy.

Phantom stares blearily at his breakfast, a fork in his hand.

Then he lights up.

"The- the breakfast has a smiley face!"

"Yeah, buddy, it does," Dick smiles, just the tiniest bit proud that his idea had cheered the boy up- the breakfast was a slice of toast with bacon in the shape of a smile and two strawberry slices for eyes. The scrambled eggs and other fruit sat on opposite sides of the toast.

"That's so cool!"

Dick smiles, and motions for Phantom to eat up. The boy obliges, digging into the fruit first. Dick eats as well, somewhat thankful for having something other than cereal for the first time in what has to be a month.

"My name's Danny," Phantom- no, Danny says unprompted.

"It's nice to meet you, Danny. I'm Dick."

Danny smiles and says, "Big Brother Dick!"

Dick blinks.

"No, buddy, I'm not your big brother, just Dick."

Danny's smile falls.

"But Gotham says... she says you're my brother, she says you're safe. You're my big brother, Gotham says you're her kid same as me!"

And oh, the boy is close to tears- what is Dick supposed to do here?" Deny or play along?

"Sure then, buddy. Yeah. I can be your big brother."

And there's that smile again- oh, what has Dick just done?

-

tags: @basilf1res @angelheartgamer @justgray15777 @terzatheunderscorerima @phantom120 @undead-essence @crazydoughnutlady @big-flrda-kys @rangerhorsetug @shamelessstudenthideout @nonbinary-disaster @keegan-parker @i-am-the-asian-persuasion @terrasolstice @eonic @mayoota-blog1 @theonewiththegays @glitchedchaos

(hopefully i got everyone!)

-

bonus sketch:

#dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #gotham #dc #batman #batfam #nightwing #dick grayson

[mistydeyes]

therapy pt. ii; treatment and pharmacotherapy

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FIRST read part i here! olivia (@lundenloves) covers the initial therapy portion beautifully and i cannot emphasize how good the characterization of simon is!!

summary: Reeling from the myriad of questions posed by the therapist, Simon is now sent to the second process of therapy: treatment and meds.

pairing: Simon "Ghost" Riley x fem!reader

warnings: swearing, medical terminology + medications, mentions of depression/anxiety/ptsd

a/n: i finally got around to this! this has been in the works since the summer and tbh I fell off with it but olivia's amazing part + pharmacy school rotations really invigorated this back up! hope you enjoy :)

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As Simon exited the stuffy office, he felt defeated. He wanted to escape the confines of the base and forget about all the information he had offered willingly. He hesitated as he eyed the corridor with a glowing red exit sign at the end of it. As if he was thinking aloud, Kaufman’s voice echoed in the hallway.

“The medical wing is the other way,” she called with a laugh, sickly rebounding in the sterile, empty hallway. With balled fists, Simon made the journey to his next destination.

Similar to this morning, the soldiers avoided his gaze and hastily stepped out of his way as he continued. The halls were filled with the sounds of his heavy boots as he saw the large sign signifying the medical wing. He could feel his fist tighten as he reached the closed door. “Captain Blake Isley,” he muttered as he looked at the golden lettering of the plaque. With a moment’s hesitation, he pounded on the wood with three resounding knocks that echoed in the hallway.

“Enter!” he could hear the captain command from the other side of the door. He gripped the cold door knob before entering the sterile office. He blinked slowly and adjusted to the harsh overhead light.

He stood in the cold environment, noting the various bookshelves of medical literature and some certificates displayed on the wall. Captain Isley sat behind a desk, a stack of files in front of her. Simon silently cursed, why did it always have to be a woman?

“You can sit down, Simon,” she replied without glancing up, “I’ll be with you in a moment.” Simon sat himself at one of the two chairs in front of her desk. He almost preferred this over the therapist’s office. First, it was cold and he revealed in the atmosphere. He also enjoyed her lack of interest in his case. Hopefully, he would get some time back and still be able to return to his gym routine.

However, as she pulled out his large case file and typed furiously at her computer, he knew this would be as long as his previous appointment. “Alright,” she said as she looked at him, “let’s get the basics out of the way.” She moved her mouse and he assumed his file was on the screen.

“Can you confirm your height and weight?” Isley asked and Simon couldn’t help but scoff. “Shouldn’t that be in my file there, Captain?” he questioned. “Just confirm for me, Simon,” she replied, “and you can drop the formalities, I’m fine with Doctor.” Simon smiled slightly at her contradiction. “1.93 meters and 100 kilos last I remember,” he replied curtly and she nodded as she continued.

“Great,” she replied sarcastically, “now for the fun stuff.” She pulled out a file that appeared to be his medical and pharmacy records. “I’ll go through these 1 by 1 and you just need to let me know if you’re still taking them,” she said before going line by line.

“Paracetamol?” “Yes, regularly.” Simon settled down in the chair. His frequent visits to the infirmary and pharmacy would make this list a long one. She nodded before moving her finger down to the next line.

“Lemborexant?” He took a moment to think about what that one looked like before he replied. “The sleep one?” “Yes, looks like it’s for your insomnia,” she said, looking down at the manila file. “Mostly when I’m back on base or leave.”

“How about Metaxalone?” “Only on leave.” To this, she raised an eyebrow as she looked up. “You don’t take it regularly?” “No, who wants to take something four times a day.” Simon couldn’t help but feel defensive. That one was the size of a horse pill and it was meant to help with some muscle pain. Despite the relief, he would always leave it behind on long missions. He could work through some pain if it meant that he didn’t have to take cover and swallow another pill.

“Vitamin D?” “When, I remember.” Simon secretly hated this one. It smelled overly like a fish market and he had an entire lecture from his general practitioner to get more sun and to stop wearing his mask.

“Calcium carbonate?” she continued to question and Simon stopped for a moment. “I’m not the doctor here,” he said in a sarcastic tone, “what are those?” She pursed her lips before replying. “TUMS, Simon, do you take TUMS?” “When I need to,” he said and sat back in his chair.

“Alright, and I’ll skip past your other lovely pharmaceuticals as it looks like they correlate to your hospital stays.” Thank god, this session would turn into another fucking hour based on his last few visits.

“You must be a field day at the pharmacy,” she joked and Simon let out a semblance of a laugh. She rifled through some papers in her desk before she spoke again. “Looks like you have some history with fluoxetine, any thoughts?”

He remembered taking it before he enlisted. It was a small, green, and white capsule meant to help with all of his shit. He hated the constant schedule and the sight of these things, eventually deciding to stop it in basic.

“Hated them,” he replied without any further comments. “Why is that?” she asked, taking a moment to look up at him. “The schedule was a nuisance,” he said plainly and she sighed. “That’s a common complaint but looks like you have a schedule now, Simon.” He nodded in response before she looked back down at her papers.

“Simon, have you ever heard of venlafaxine and risperidone?” she questioned. “Never heard of ‘em” he responded and he leaned forward as she handed him a few papers.

The two papers had the two unfamiliar drug names listed on top along with a slew of information. His eyes flickered around at terms like “post-traumatic stress disorder” and “depression.” She cleared her throat before continuing. “I’ll give you the basics and you can read that in your free time,” she stated and he put the papers in his lap.

“Venlafaxine is generally used for treatment of depression and other mood disorders,” Isley began to say and he couldn’t believe he was being prescribed an antidepressant again. “But I’m going to therapy,” he interjected and it sounded more harsh than he had intended. “Think of this as going hand in hand with that,” she stated with a sudden tone of optimism, “they both benefit one another.” He nodded in feigned agreement as it was no use fighting against it.

“Now you’ll want to take these around the same time every day,” she continued and he groaned at the consistent schedule. Just another thing to add to his routine. “You should see improvements in about two weeks but don’t be surprised if it takes a little longer,” she advised and he continued to demonstrate he was listening.

“Alright, now for the other one,” Isley said as she looked at her notes. “Alright, so we’re also starting you on Risperidone,” she stated, “now this also treats mood disorders similar to venlafaxine.” She looked at him as if he should be writing these down but he just continued to nod and attempt to remember the key notes.

“Take this as well once a day around the same time,” she advised and continued with her lecture, “better yet you can take both of them at the same time so you don’t forget!” She took a moment to look over the papers before looking up at him again. “You’ve been quiet, Simon,” she observed and he hated the sudden shift of attention back on him. “Any questions?” she inquired as she stuffed the papers back into his file.

“None, Captain,” he responded flatly, wanting to exit this mini-medication lecture. She raised an eyebrow at him and he coughed out, “Sorry, doctor.” Isley sighed before folding her hands on the table. “Then you’re all set, I’ll have your scripts sent down to the pharmacy.” With that Simon, pushed back the seat and walked towards the door. Just as he was about to exit, the doctor had one last thing to say.

“Oh and Simon, watch your alcohol with this,” Isley spoke and he turned to her, “one drink will feel like five.” He laughed slightly, at least there were some benefits to this new addition to his routine.

The pharmacy was Simon’s final stop of the day. He looked at the analog clock on the wall, 16:00. God, this day was turning out to be a tour of the entire base and all he wanted to do was head to the gym. He stood in the queue and impatiently tapped his boot on the ground. The last thing he needed was this line. But it moved at a snail’s pace as the pharmacist ran around and typed occasionally into the monitor.

Simon was looking down at his phone when he felt someone bump his arm. He looked up and saw Gaz smiling up at him. “Fancy seeing you here,” he chuckled and Simon rolled his eyes. He nodded in response and hoped Gaz would just leave. “Long day?” he continued to question and Simon grunted, trying his best to make minimal conversation. “You can say that,” he muttered and Gaz finally caught on to Simon’s attitude. “Well, I’ll see you around Lieutenant,” he replied before walking off with his bag in hand.

Finally, Simon had reached the front of the queue. He looked back at the clock, half past the hour. “Rushing off somewhere, Simon?” the pharmacist asked and he looked back at her. “No Captain, it’s just been a long day,” he breathed out and she returned a reassuring smile. As Isley postulated, Simon frequented the pharmacy on a monthly basis. She knew him by name and went to pull up his file.

“Got a few new ones, I see,” she replied and Simon nodded in response. “Let me go see if those are ready.” Simon waited as he saw the pharmacist walk to the bins and search for his bag. “Here we go!” she smiled and opened the bag to count out the medication bottles. “Alright, so I have your three here,” she replied, “it’s a shame you aren’t due for your others so I’ll be seeing you next month.” Fucking wonderful, he thought, just another visit to this side of the base.

Before she handed it to him, she took another look at the bag. “Did Isley talk to you about alcohol with these?” she questioned as she looked up at him. Simon met her gaze and nodded. “Got her lecture, Captain,” he replied and she took a deep breath. “Okay good, you got a hefty cocktail here Simon but you didn’t hear it from Pharmacy,” she winked.

As he went to go take the bag, she pulled bag. “Anything else, Captain?” he grumbled, he just wanted his stupid medication that she was forfeiting. “One more thing, but did Isley talk about the fentanyl lollipops you are deployed with?” she questioned yet again. Simon remembered the newest edition to his med-pack, a set of white lollies that contained fentanyl for any injury on the field. “Yeah, got those a while ago,” she hummed as he confirmed her suspicions.

“I’ll make a note here and notify your team but you cannot take those,” she warned, “under any circumstances, you cannot be given those.” He raised an eyebrow at the odd instruction. “What will I die, Captain?” he expressed with doubt. She laughed slightly before replying. “That, or a seizure,” she mused, “or you might just shit your ass out.” It was Simon’s turn to laugh and he waved at her as he exited the pharmacy.

“I’ll be sure to tell Mactavish when I call him, I just know he would find that funny,” she called out and Simon felt his lips curve into a smile. As he held the rattling pill bottles in hand, he tried his best to figure out where to fit it into his routine. No time was ideal but he guessed the morning would suffice. He would need to get a goddamn calendar at the amount of things he was supposed to remember.

Just as he walked back to his quarters, your name popped up on his phone. “Hope you’re doing well :)” you wrote, almost as if you could tell he was having a shit day. Out of therapy sessions, he found value in one thing she focused on. He would be doing this, the therapy and the pills, for you. Not for him or Price or his teammates, he’ll be doing this for you.

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#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #izzie is drawing #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #izzie is writing

[j0eyj0rdis0n]

Olá, adoro suas histórias, meu escritor favorito, queria solicitar alguns proxies×leitores quando ficarem com ciúmes, tipo sfw e nsfw, se não for incômodo, desculpe

TRANSLATION: “Hello, I love your stories, my favorite writer, I wanted to request some proxies×readers when they get jealous, like sfw and nsfw, if it's not bothersome, sorry”

Ola amor! I don’t speak Portuguese unfortunately so I hope google translate did its job correctly! I’m so glad you like my work and requests aren’t bothersome at all! 🖤

THE PROXIES WHEN THEY’RE JEALOUS

TIM:

Tim gets more insecure when he’s jealous rather than Masky

He’d probably put his hand on your waist protectively when he feels like someone is showing off a little too much or their words are getting risky

Just small acts of protectiveness from him and quick glances to you to make sure you’re alright and they’re not bothering you

If you’re uncomfortable by someone else’s advances he won’t hesitate to step in and tell them to fuck off

He walks a fine line between himself and Masky when he has to step in

But as soon as he gets a punch in it’s like a light switch that flipped. Immediately having Masky front. It’s something about violence that makes it flip

But if you look like you’re enjoying their advances he’ll be absolutely heartbroken. He’d stay by your side until you got back home then immediately hole up in his room or go for a long walk

Either way you won’t be seeing him for a while. It’ll be until you confront him about his odd behavior that he avoids you

BRIAN:

Silent upset. You can see it on his face that he’s irritated with their attempts to flirt with you. His eyebrows furrowed and fire beginning to burn in his eyes

He won’t let anyone take you and he knows if you tried to leave he’ll only bring you back. But that doesn’t mean he doesn’t get irritated when they try to flirt with you when they see you’re obviously taken

Another protective hand on the waist kind of guy

If he truly feels like they’ve gone too far he might step up to them, not to the level that Hoodie would but still rather agressive

Unlike Tim, Brian can get a few punches in and still stay in control of himself but he doesn’t like to get violent when he’s not working

Will absolutely find the person flirting with you later and beat them to a slow painful death with his pipe. Or if he’s feeling generous he’ll shoot them quick

Gives you the silent treatment for a while if he could see you were enjoying the advances made by the other person

He’ll have a serious talk with you when he’s finished being silent. Even then he’s not much of a talker when it comes to the conversation

MASKY:

Loses his shit. Immediately lunges at the person and throws them to the ground.

In an instant he’s on top of them choking them out, probably slamming their head against the ground while he’s at it

They’d be lucky to be alive when he’s done with them

When they’re taken care of he’ll pick you up and take you home

(NSFW) When y’all get home he’s fucking you so you know you’re all he cares about

Possessive as fuuuuck

HOODIE:

Will stand behind you as they try to start flirting with you and he’ll silently pull up his hoodie to show the gun in his waistband.

Hopefully they get the hint and fuck off

But if they don’t he’d gently take your hand and bring you outside while he goes back in and takes care of the person

He doesn’t like you to see him get so violent 🫠

“TICCI” TOBY:

Feral. There’s two routes this man will take and it completely depends on how he’s feeling that day

First route is if its been a rough day he’ll absolutely lose it when it’s almost warranted. Screaming shouting and making a scene

He’d probably punch them if they touched you at all

Will absolutely find them and kill them later too

But if it’s been a decent day he’ll grab your wrist (harder than he thought) and drag you home

You’ll ask him why he freaked out and he’ll be completely honest, telling you exactly why.

He was worried you’d want someone more normal than him, he wanted to show you he loved you and he can protect you

#creepypasta #marble hornets #creepypasta requests #creepypasta headcannons #creepypasta hcs #marble hornets headcanons #masky marble hornets #hoodie marble hornets #brian thomas #tim wright #ticci toby #toby rodgers #creepypasta proxies #headcannons #anon ask #asks open

[lis-likes-fics]

Full Moon

Pairing: Alpha!Eddie Munson x Omega!Reader Word Count: 2.8k words Warnings: NSFW, smut, unprotected sex, a/b/o themes (knotting, claiming (biting), heat, mentions of ruts), cunnilingus, multiple orgasms, swearing... A/N: I never knew how much I needed alpha!Eddie until I read one and suddenly became feral. Enjoy this, hopefully there will be plenty more to come! Special tag: @akiratoro420​.

Eddie held the company phone to his ear, listening to the repetitive ring through to the other end as he untangled the cord that was moments from being twisted into a knot. “Enzo’s. How can I help?”

Eddie’s lips curled into a teasing smirk at the voice on the other end, a voice he had become well-acquainted with since he began calling this line. “Your customer service voice is getting a lot better, Tony,” Eddie replied, his grin widening at the exasperated groan on the other side.

Tony’s voice flooded with false venom as he bit back, “What do you want, Munson, I’m busy.”

Eddie laughed as he shook his head, his hair bouncing in a fluffy mess he had simply run his fingers through this morning before getting out the door, rather than combing it out like a sensible person. “Calm your tits,” he said. “Just wanna talk to Y/N real quick.”

“She hasn't been in today.”

Eddie slowed, mouth closing at the answer he’d received as he thought over it. That couldn’t be right. “She hasn’t?” he wondered, tilting his head to the side as he tapped his finger on the desk.

“Nope,” Tony said with a heavy sigh. “It’s actually super weird. She usually calls in or something when she’s gonna be late or isn’t going to show at all, but no. Radio silent.”

“That’s weird.” It wasn’t like you. When you were finally able to get a job at Enzo’s, you were excited. You would never jeopardize your position there by refusing to call in. “She was fine this morning,” he mumbled that part under his breath, brows knitted together as he thought. He’d seen you this morning before he left the trailer. You were curled up on the bed, still fast asleep when he kissed your head and left for work.

“Yeah, well, we haven’t seen her.” There was a moment of silence as Tony just shrugged, shifting the phone to his other ear as he proposed a suggestion, “But, hey, everything’s weird on a full moon, right? I mean, a whole batch of sauce just disappeared today, and all the wines were rearranged. Couldn’t find shit.”

“Yeah…” Eddie wasn’t really paying attention, his mind preoccupied with you and what could be going on to make you miss work.

Tony sensed this and just rolled his eyes, “I gotta go, dude. If you want something–”

“Nah, I’m good. Seeya,” he said, hanging up the phone as he scratched the back of his neck. He let out a sigh as he ran a hand through his hair, a few tangles stopping his movement for him to work through them. He started walking away from the phone with the shake of his head before he remembered something Tony had said, stopping in his tracks with wide eyes.

Full moon.

Oh, shit. “Oh, shit.”

~

Eddie rushed back home quicker than he’d ever done anything in his life. He had to leave a note behind with his boss to tell him that he had to leave for an emergency. Eddie fumbled with his keys as he neared the door to the trailer, nearly dropping them to his feet as he tried to capture the right one between his fingers. He ripped the door open as soon as it was unlocked, closing it behind him just as quickly.

Your scent wrapped around him in an instant, heavy and thick in its strength as he stepped into the enclosure of his home with you. Eddie made his way to your bedroom, guilt heavy in his heart as he got to the door, opening it slowly to see you.

It didn’t look like you had moved since he left—you were still curled up in the bed—but there was a noticeable difference between then and now. You’d been nesting, laying in a pile of Eddie’s clothes and blankets as you wrapped yourself in his scent. His dresser drawers were not in their places and the door to his tiny closet was wide open. He could hear the faint sounds of your whimpers and whined, your heavy breaths as you dug yourself deeper within the pile.

His heart squeezed in his chest as he stared at the lump in his bed that was your body, limp within the pile. He walked further into the room, “Hey, little omega.”

He saw you shift, lifting your body up just a little bit to turn around to see him. The smile that spread over your tired face was so beautiful, Eddie thought he would melt if he wasn’t so overcome with the smell of you drenching his mind in a potent lust. “Alpha?” you spoke, your voice small and hopeful.

He smiled back at you, kneeling by the bed and reaching a hand out to touch the top of your head. Your eyes fluttered from his touch, and you leaned into him. You were already naked, overheated as a layer of sweat covered every inch of your skin. You nuzzled your cheek into his hand.

“Fuck, you’re burning up,” he said as your searing skin pressed against his.

“Missed you,” you whined, kissing the palm of his hand as you reached out to touch him. He noticed you take in a deep breath of him, your hands balling into fists in his shirt before tugging on it to get it off.

“I missed you, too, omega,” he responded, leaning forward to kiss your forehead. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here. I didn’t realize your heat had started today. The moon really fucked you up, didn’t it?”

You just whined in response, set on getting his shirt off of him so you could add it to your nest. It was the perfect piece, it smelled so heavily of him, your lover, your Alpha. He abided eventually, letting you take it off of him so you could stuff your face in it intently. “Want you,” you mumbled after a moment, staring up at him with dark, lust-blown eyes.

“I know. M’right here,” he kissed your forehead again. It only offered a dollop of relief, feeling his lips on your skin. But you needed more, you needed so much more. “I’m gonna help you. You want that? You want me to help you?”

“Please,” you whimpered. “Please, Alpha. Need you.”

He stood, straightening his stance as he towered over you. He began unbuckling his pants, his eyes never leaving yours as you watched him strip. You reached out and touched the skin of his belly, fingertips ghosting over one of his tattoos there. He preened under your touch, smiling drunkenly at you as you reached both hands out to cup his hips and bring him closer. You pressed your lips to his skin, both sides blessed with your kiss as you buried your face in his warm skin.

After a moment, he moved again. He got to his knees atop the bed, uncovering you in the items of clothing you had acquired to set somewhere else on the bed, doing his best not to ruin your nest so he could access you. He was practically straddling you now as you turned over onto your back, looking up at him now as you reached up to touch him, to feel his skin.

He bent down, his hands on either side of your head as he leaned forward to kiss your lips. You melted, sighing deeply into his mouth as you pressed yourself closer to him. One hand lifted to curl around your chin, slowly tilting your head so his lips can press to the underside of your jaw.

You whined again, still latching onto him in a desperate plea to be closer. “Hurts,” you mumbled.

“I know, omega,” he said. “I know. I’m gonna help.” His hands were all over you in no time, running along your skin like they were attached. His body was pressing into yours, offering a weight that you so craved. His kisses traveled down your body, moving quickly to satiate your needs, to take the pain away.

His hands supported your hips as he lifted your body up to bring you to his mouth. His hot tongue met your hot pussy and you mewled, breathy and high-pitched. He wrapped his lips around you, stilling your hips so he can work, greedily licking up the arousal that leaked out of you like a stream. His moans were nearly growls, low humming sounds in his chest that reverberated around both your bodies.

He loved the taste of you, sweet like honey. It was only better during your heat, stronger and endless. Your whining was not lost on him as you tangled your fingers in his hair, tugging and pulling. “Alpha,” you sobbed, the pleasure wracking through you not great enough to calm the tremors of pain aching through your body. “Need more. I need you, please.”

“I know. I’m gonna take care of you,” he mumbled against your slick before licking you up just a little more, addicted to the taste of you. Another helpless whine slipped from your throat, and Eddie came back up to your lips. “S’okay,” he promised, kissing all over your damp face. “I’m right here.”

“Alpha.”

Eddie’s fingers stroked the sides of your face as he lined himself up with you, “I’m gonna make it all better, omega.” He pressed himself inside of you, sliding his cock into you, slowly at first before his impatience got the better of him.

A long sigh slipped from your lips as your eyes closed, relief beginning to swell inside of you as he filled you. You were already feeling better, the pain subsiding into something much more bearable as you latched onto him, folding your limbs around his body to keep him inside of you.

Eddie buried his face in the crook of your neck as he started thrusting slowly. “Fuck, omega,” he growled into your skin. “You take me so well. Fucking made for me.”

He rocked inside of you, pace slow and measured. Your legs tightened around his waist, trying to bring him closer, deeper. More, you needed more. “Need you,” you begged, tears slipping down your cheeks, which he kissed away.

“You need more?” he guessed, already shifting to accommodate your desires as he thrust a little quicker into you. He wrapped an arm underneath you, lifting your hips up to allow himself to fuck deeper into you. You gripped his shoulders, your sobbing moans helpless in his ear.

“Poor little omega,” he said. “So desperate for her Alpha’s knot, huh?”

You arched your back into him as the head of his cock pressed against a special part inside of you. You couldn’t respond, couldn’t do much but cling to him and moan as the pleasure tore through your body like a rampaging storm. Your body buzzed as you trembled, head falling back against the pillows that smelled like your Alpha.

“Fuck, cum for me, omega,” Eddie demanded. “I want you to cum for your Alpha.”

And you did. His words shot straight to your core, throbbing and white-hot with lust as you clenched down around him. Your pussy squeezed him, sucked him deeper as you came around him with a cry that split your throat. Eddie’s breath was heavy in your ear as you came, almost drowned out by the sound of your heart thumping in your head.

You gushed around him, more slick for his cock as his thrusts picked up, spurred on by the feeling of your tight heat wrapping around him. “Good,” he panted. “So good for me.”

A rough growl escaped his throat after a moment, his breath coming in short, harsh puffs as his face buried in the crook of your neck. His plump lips and hot tongue lapped along your throat, tasting your pleasure through your flesh. His nose traced along your ear, slightly extended canines sharper with the euphoric scent of your heat as he longed to claim you once more.

His thumb moved between you as he began stroking your abused clit, which had gone relatively untouched but highly stimulated with the haze setting heavy over your head. "I'm close, omega," he breathed into your ear as your legs only clasped tighter, pulled him in closer as the lust-cloud built in your mind.

Your gasps were desperate as ever as you were reduced once more to endless strings of pleas and cries. "Knot me, Alpha, please," you begged. "Fuck, please knot me."

He rutted into you a couple more times, thrusts short and rough while the sparks lit in his body. "Cum with me," he demanded, softer with the weakness of his approaching release, almost as much of a plea as your own for his knot.

You were putty in his arms as you obeyed, trembling with the whining cry bursting from your throat. You could feel his knot swelling inside of you, buried as far as he could go. Your hands held him by his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as his teeth clamped around the juncture of your neck and shoulder. The euphoria blinded you like the strike of lightning, the spasms shooting through your body sharp and exhausting.

You felt so full, holding tightly to his body. The pleasure of heat was an unmatched craze of ecstasy you cherished with your dear Alpha.

As your body calmed beneath him, you could feel your clouded mind clearing of its haze. Your glossy eyes no longer murky with a burning need. You let out a long sigh, turning your gaze back to your Eddie's face as a lazy smile found your lips.

You fell limp against the sheets. Your limbs, which were so tightly fastened around him, now loose connections to his body as you laid back. You felt Eddie's lips on your skin again, kissing you everywhere he could reach, peppering your neck over the bite he'd embedded in your skin in the swell of the moment.

"Hi, Eddie," you mutter to him, the syllables hardly forming together.

"Welcome back, sweetheart." He kissed your lips, smiling proudly at you and your messy display.

He heard you whine weakly, lifting up on his elbows to see your face a little easier to figure out what the problem was. Your face was screwed up in inconvenience as he followed your gaze to a corner of your nest fallen out of place.

"I gotta fix it," you pout, brows furrowed as you reach lazily for what had fallen off the bed.

"I'll help you fix it later," he promised. "Just relax." He bent down and kissed you again before pulling you tightly to his body and turning you around, adjusting the both of you so you lay on top of him, still connected by him fully buried within you.

"I'm sorry I wasn't here. I didn't realize the moon would mess with your heat," he remorsed, his hand running through your hair as he petted you affectionately.

"S'okay," you nuzzle into his neck. "I'm glad you're here. I missed you."

He kissed your forehead. "I missed you, too." He took a breath, hands resting on the small of your back as his thumbs stroked along your bare skin. "How are you feeling?"

"Better," you mumbled. "A lot better. Thank you."

He smiled proudly, "It's my pleasure."

You snorted a laugh, laying your cheek back on his chest and stroking your hand along the side of his face. Your exhaustion weighed heavy, but the creeping of your heat still lurked beneath the surface to attack you again soon. You sighed, admiring Eddie's face as he held your hand and kissed the meat of your palm.

"I should call in. They'd kill me if I just disappeared and then showed up out of nowhere," you said.

Eddie hummed, "I can do it. Tony's covering for you right now anyway."

"You sure?" you peaked up at him, stroking your finger along his bottom lip.

He puckered them, darting his tongue out to lick the tip of your finger and bring it gently between his teeth with a large grin. Your bubbly laugh sounded through the room, your eyes closed and your body shook in response to your joy. Eddie groaned lightly under you, the sound dropping into a little chuckle at the end as your laugh made you squeeze around him. He let go of your finger and rubbed his hand along your back, "Yeah, I got it."

You leaned forward, kissing his lips long and soft to savor the feel and the taste of him as it soothed you. You pulled away from his lips to look at his pretty face, moving a delicate strand of hair off his forehead to tuck behind his ear. "We've got a long heat ahead of us."

He laughed and smiled wickedly at you, "Yeah, well, my rut will start tomorrow, so buckle up."

A chuckle lit in your chest and an ember sparked in your gut at his words. "Fuck, yeah," you smiled, leaning down to kiss him once more.

Eddie the Banished taglist: @hb8301​ @lovemegood​ @munsaniac @digital-charlie​ @katsukis1wife​ @eiriancrow​ @littleblondesoprano​ @alexxavicry​ @samz31​ @sparkletash​ @fandomgirl17​ Stranger Things taglist: @activebliss​ @sweetcoffeebearr​ @life-on-needs​ @killerqueen-ofwillowgreen​ @sw34terw34ther​ @hellfire1986baby​ @gublur​ @allofmaris​ @redwineandnicotine Tag yourself here...

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson smut #eddie munson #alpha eddie munson #alpha!eddie munson #female reader #reader insert #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic

[yautjalover]

Distress Signal

I thought of this and have had it in my drafts for a few days now. I've been horribly sick with a virus, so here is some new content after so much waiting! I hope ya'll like it. <3

Content: Female Human/Male Yautja, Yautja boyfriend to the rescue, damaged ship, best friend injured

Content Warnings: bloody wounds, blood

Word Count: 1,566

Jaelah raced through the corridor, struggling to maintain her balance. The ship abruptly to its side again, forcing her to hold onto piping that lined the walls. She groaned, sucking in a sharp breath when her hip collided with another pipe. Forcing herself to take deep calming breaths, she waited until the ship righted again before continuing on. The cycling red emergency lights made it difficult to navigate the maze of corridors, but after so many months living on the ship, she had memorized every inch. Running on rote memory, Jaelah found her way to a blast door. 

She flipped open the control panel, tapping through the menus until she accessed the mainframe. The code trickled down the screen in a waterfall of blue letters and numbers, cascading vertically. 

Accessing the emergency codes, Jaelah typed in the necessary code to lock the necessary doors. The ship had already taken a great hit, so it wouldn’t survive another. Right as she went to tap Enter the ship jolted to the side again. 

Jaelah squealed in surprise when she was knocked onto her ass without notice. Her ass collided with the metal floor, sending a jolt of pain through her body. She didn’t waste time, however, in climbing back to her feet. She hit the enter key and almost immediately the ship groaned as it worked to close and secure the doors that led to the damaged parts of the vessel. 

Breathing a soft sigh of relief, Jaelah turned to run back to the other side of the ship. 

“Did it work?” Reina asked as she raced back into the common room. 

Her co-captain laid in a bruised heap on one of the couches, her long blonde hair fanned around her sweating face. Dried blood painted her forehead and chin. Her uniform was ragged and torn around her middle where a piece of metal still stuck out. Mountains of gauze were piled on the wound, most of them scarlet in color from the blood. Reina’s hands were coated in blood, too, from trying to keep pressure on the wound. 

“Yeah. I managed to close all but the necessary doors. All that’s left is the cockpit, here, mess, and medbay. It looks like we’re sleeping here until we can get help.” Jaelah relayed as she came to push her hands down on Reina’s bleeding stomach. 

Reina screamed in pain, tears falling free down her cheeks. She stiffened, struggling to speak.

“G-Good.” her co-captain managed finally. 

“Don’t worry. I sent out an SOS. Hopefully someone will get to us before the engines die out. How are you feeling?”

The blonde woman groaned, “Like shit. This hurts like hell…”

Jaelah grimaced, “Sorry,”

“It’s fine…” Reina sighed as Jaelah gave her another injection of pain medication. “I hope someone rescues us. It’s a miracle we made it out of that asteroid belt.”

“Yeah, no joke…” 

The women sat there in silence as Jaelah replaced Reina’s bloody bandages with new ones, trying her best to stop the bleeding. More blood continued to pool up around the strip of metal that impaled her best friend’s stomach. It seemed the bandages were only preventing the inevitable… Something neither woman was ready to handle just yet. Luck would have to be on their side, or even a miracle. 

An alert pinged on the tablet that sat on the coffee table. Jaelah wiped the sweat from her forehead and snatched the device, tapping on the screen to see what the latest bad news was. Shockingly, it was something she hadn’t expected so soon, or so quickly. 

“What is it, Jaelah?” Reina asked with concern, the woman having caught Jaelah’s expression. 

Jaelah watched the security footage in shock, and worry. She looked up to her friend, shuttering her expression.

“It’s…we’re being boarded by an unknown vessel…” 

“Thank goodness! Do you see any logos or serials? Maybe we can look them up before they get here!” the blonde peddled on with her theories and questions. 

Jaelah was already working on opening the doors that would lead their savior right to them. It would be easy to find them. This also prevented them from snooping around the ship. Their savior had a habit of being nosy. 

“Um, Reina,” she began, standing up to key the door open. “Remember how I said I’ve been seeing a guy on and off? Ya know, for sex and to see if we work out?”

Her friend twisted her face in confusion, muffling a whimper as she tried to sit up but failed. “Yeah… What about him?” 

She twisted her lips, chewing on her bottom one anxiously, “Well, he’s not quite…” she let out a huff of air, “Human?” 

“He’s not…human?” 

“Yeah,” Jaelah confirmed with a shy tight-lipped smile, sweeping her dark hair behind her shoulder.

She heard him more than saw him as she moved to stand next to her friend. 

“You two aren’t fighting are you?” Reina asked, worry dripping into her voice as a huge, wavy invisible figure walked through the door. They had to bend over to step inside and stand before them. 

“Pfft, no.” 

Jaelah watched as Zai’tho’s cloak fell away to reveal him. His massive seven foot tall frame made the common room look tiny. He wore his usual gray armor, covering his extremities and vital organs. As he came forward to remove his sinister looking mask, his chest-length locs swayed about, the bands in them clinking together. Under the harsh lights, his ruddy skin, mottled with black and brown splotches, looked shiny thanks to his tough hide. When he finally clipped his mask at his belt, his yellow eyes took in the sight of Jaelah smiling up at him and Reina gawking at him from the couch, the woman’s mortal wound forgotten in the face of the giant Yautja that now stood before them. 

“Zai’tho!” Jaelah greeted, rushing to throw her arms around his wide waist with a smile. “I’ve missed you.” 

The giant male purred softly, folding her into his embrace. “Jaelah, your absence has been felt.” 

She snickered, “I’m sure it has, but I’m sorry it had to be in these circumstances. How did you find us?” she pulled back to look up at him with questions in her eyes. 

“I was on the way to our rendezvous when I received a distress signal. When I saw it was you, I had to come and help.” Zai’tho explained.

He walked forward and knelt at the couch, ghosting a big hand down Reina’s stomach. Soft clicks left his throat as he opened a pouch on his belt, emptying it of various items that were vaguely familiar.

“Jaelah, I didn’t take you for someone who likes aliens.” Reina chuckled softly until she groaned in pain, reminded of her mortal wound. “Fuck, this shit hurts!”

Jaelah grimaced as she sat next to Reina on the couch, settling her head in her lap while Zai’tho prepared some kind of gel

“Sorry. I’m very private about my sex life.” she shrugged, watching Zai’tho peel back the bandages carefully. 

The Yautja smirked, “Yautja are the opposite.” 

“I already know you’ve told every one of your friends by now, babe.” Jaelah snickered, her eyes roaming appreciatively over her boyfriend’s large muscled form. 

He purred at her suggestively, “Indeed I have, but that discussion can wait.”

“Of course. My best friend is currently dying.” She explained, jumping back into business mode. “We ran into an uncharted asteroid belt and when we collided with one, Reina got fucked up in the mess of it all.”

“Yep. I ended up on the floor impaled by this piece of fucking metal.” Reina hissed as Zai’tho spread the gel around the metal. He injected her with some numbing medicine that he had formulated from his kit, this level being safe for humans. 

Zai’tho tightened his mandibles over his mouth sympathetically, “Be still while I pull this out. I will need to sedate you afterwards. From there I will bring you both to my ship and tow yours behind mine. Do not worry further, your lives are in my hands.”

Reina smiled, “Thanks, Zai’tho. Sleep is much better than this shit.” she gestured to her waist. 

Jaelah watched as her alien boyfriend wasted no time in giving Reina another injection, the injured woman quickly falling asleep. 

“Is…she going to be okay, babe? That wound doesn’t look very good…” Jaelah asked, sitting next to Zai’tho as he carefully removed the metal from Reina’s waist. 

He purred softly, “Yes, but she needs a lot of time in the heal tank. That is the only way she lives. Yautja technology.” 

She leaned into his shoulder as he dropped the twisted metal to the floor. The male quickly coated the wound with more gel and wrapped her waist with fresh bandages. A few minutes later he was leading Jaelah through the halls to his ship. Jaelah powered down her ship and joined him in his medbay where he laid Reina in a heal tank. Once her co-captain and best friend was floating in the healing liquid, he led her to the cockpit. 

“I’m so glad it was you who found us. Thank you, babe, truly.” Jaelah thanked him, pressing soft kisses to the side of his alien face. 

The Yautja bumped his forehead against hers affectionately. “I will always be there to protect you.” 

“I love you, Zai’tho.”

“And I love you, Jaelah.”

#yautjalover #yautja #predator #avp #monster romance #teratophillia #monster fucker #alien vs predator #yautja x human

[kydrogendragon]

Dec 1: Ice Skating

(Ao3 Link)

“Make sure those are tight enough, yeah?” Hob says, giving his laces a final tug before tying them. He and Morpheus are sitting on one of the benches near the side of the rink. The weather is chilly, but not too cold for a December day. It's the middle of the day on Friday and the rink is fairly empty. At least for this part of town. No doubt once the clock hit two and all the school children are released for the day, will this part of town get more and more crowded.

Morpheus stares down at his own skates with a stern look of concentration as he meticulously pull the laces tighter. After seeming satisfied with his results, he ties the laces up in a bow and turns to Hob.

It had been just about five months since Morpheus had decided to spend his retirement here in the Waking as a human with Hob. Morpheus always rolled his eyes at his word choice of retirement. In truth, his afterlife would be more accurate, but if Hob thought too hard about his friend dying, even if it brought him here with him now, he’d get teary.

Standing up, he holds out his hand for Morpheus. As the winter weather had rolled in, Hob decided that he’d show Morpheus the classic winter activities. The first one was, of course, a Hallmark movie. As much as Hob found them pretty cheesy, they were a bit of a staple of December nowadays. And he could tell that Morpheus enjoyed the story lines, even if they were all mostly the same plot. It was the Hallmark movies, though, that led them here today. As with most of those movies, ice skating had come up and Morpheus had shown an interest. So here they were, just a few days later, with pairs of rental skates on their feet, all bundled up against the winter wind.

Morpheus grabs Hob’s hand, pulling himself up off of the bench on unsteady feet. The coordination of his newly human body had been an experience. It took a while for the muscles to get strong enough for Morpheus to do much, but his body seemed to take it in stride. After a month or two, Morpheus was as good to go as any other person his perceived age.

Ice skating, however, will probably still be a bit of a challenge.

“Don’t worry if you don’t feel super stable yet. It takes a bit to get your balance on these things,” Hob says, holding his free arm to Morpheus’s side just in case.

“I will be fine,” Morpheus says, taking a wobbly step forward, still holding onto Hob’s hand. The pair make their way, slowly, to the ice rink’s entrance. The moment his skate hits the ice, his foot slides forward, nearly taking Hob along with him. Thankfully, Hob is still outside on the rubber mat and is able to catch Morpheus under the arms.

Hob lets out a laugh. “Well, now you know how slipping on the ice feels!” He helps Morpheus back up on two feet and guides him to the ledge. Stepping onto the ice himself, Hob makes his way to Morpheus’s side. His jaw is clenched and his grip on the railing looks downright murderous. Tilting his head, he asks, “You okay? We can step back out if you want. Maybe we practice just feeling stable on your skates on the mat?”

Morpheus shakes his head and meets Hob’s gaze with fierce determination. “I will skate.”

With a nod, Hob concedes. Morpheus is nothing if not stubborn. “Alright, then let’s take a bit to get steady on our feet, yeah?” Morpheus nods and watches as Hob shifts away from the wall to face him. “Right then, let’s just shuffle along the railing for a bit. It’s gonna feel weird, but hopefully, it starts to feel a bit more natural as you go.”

Hob slowly skates next to Morpheus as they make their way around the ring of the ice rink. They are about half way through when Morpheus looks up to him and says, “I am feeling more stable on these.”

“Great!” Hob says, clasping his hands together. “Want to try just holding on with one hand and we can work through the basic movements?”

Morpheus nods. They maneuver over to the straight away section of the rink and Hob skates to the front, one hand on the railing, facing Morpheus. “Alright, so to move forward, you’re gonna take one foot and lean more on it so you’re kinda straight on top of it, like this.” Hob shifts the weight to his right foot as a demonstration. “Then, you’ll take your other foot and slide it to the side and back like this.” Turning around, Hob pushes against the ice with his left foot and skates forward for a moment. He turns back around and does the motion again, bringing them back together. “Make sense?”

Morpheus nods once again and looks down at his feet with that tense look of concentration once more. Hob allows himself a gentle smile at the sight. Morpheus always did things with the utmost care and attention, even for the simplest of tasks. It make sense. Everything was new, even if at one point he’d held the entire collective subconscious in his mind. Now, he has to experience it like all the other humans in the world.

Hob doesn't doubt Morpheus’s ability to learn to skate, though. In fact, if anything, he's certain that by the end of today, Morpheus will be skating circles around Hob.

He watches as Morpheus practices shifting his weight from skate to skate, looking more comfortable with each passing minute. With small nod to himself, Morpheus shifts to the left and pushes against the ice with his right. Hob watches with a smile as Morpheus moved forward.

Then he wobbles.

“Shit!” Hob skates forward and quickly reachez out and grabs Morpheus’s arm before he crashes onto the ice. Morpheus grabs onto Hob’s arms, one foot sticking out behind him, the other bent under him. Hob chuckles as he pulls Morpheus back onto his feet. “You okay?”

Morpheus keeps his hands tight on Hob’s biceps, the puffs of air from his breath visible between them. Hob’s eyes flicker down to his redder than usual lips.

“I am fine.” Icy blue eyes met his own.

Clearing his throat, Hob speaks. “That’s good. Guess I didn’t really show you what to do after, huh?”

“You did not.”

“Egg on my face then.” Morpheus’s head tilted, his brows pinching together. Hob shakes his head. “Figure of speech. Means it was my fault. Let’s get back to that ledge, yeah? I’ll show you how to keep moving forward and also how to stop.”

The pair make their way back to the ledge, Morpheus already seeming smoother on the ice than he had before. After walking through the basics of moving and how to shift your weight while moving forward, Hob then proceeds to demonstrate how to stop.

“You can Pizza it, that’s probably the easiest to start with. You can get fancy with it later and do a sliding kind of stop. I managed it once, so don’t expect any demos from me on that one.”

“Pizza?”

“A ski term, but it fits here.” Hob tilts his skates inwards and points down to the triangle like shape that they make. “They use the term for kids. Pizza and French Fries. Easier for them to visualize, I think. Just means to tilt your feet in like this.”

Morpheus looks down and copies the stance with a smile.

“That’s most of the basics, really. And that’s about the end of my skating knowledge too.” Morpheus hums in response.

“I shall try.”

Hob watches as Morpheus successfully skates forward a few paces and also manages to stop with a bit of a stumble, but not a fall. He skates up to him with a giant smile on his face and gives him a pat on the back.

“There you go! You did it!” Morpheus looks up to Hob with a soft smile. Hob can feel his heart clench in his chest. Its his soft smiles that always do him in. He's almost always rewarded with one whenever Morpheus accomplishes something new. He swore he was going to die from a heart attack those first few months because of it.

“I had an excellent teacher.”

Hob rolls his eyes. “Not that great.”

“Mm. Perhaps not. But a good enough teacher.”

“Hey!” Morpheus smirks and skates forward, leaving Hob behind. Chuckling, Hob skates his way up to Morpheus.

They do a few laps around the rink. More people start trickling in, so they’ve gotten pushed more towards the center to avoid running down little kids. Thankfully, Morpheus doesn’t seem to be at risk of falling anymore.

They skate, side by side, talking as they often do about any little thing. It’s nice. At some point, they end up holding hands to prevent being skated through and even as time ticks by and the need to do so passes, they continue to hold on to one another.

“So, ice skating. What do you rate it?” Hob asks, after the announcement to clear the ice for the Zamboni finishes. The pair make their way towards the rink exit, shuffling along the crowd of other skaters.

Morpheus tilts his head, pondering. “Hmm,” he says, rubbing a thumb against Hob’s gloved hand. “I think I am quite fond of it. So long as I am skating with you.” Morpheus turns to Hob. “An eight, with you. I would imagine it would fall down to a four without your presence.”

“That’s some high praise. I doubt I make it that much better.”

“You do.” Hob’s breath stutters at the intensity in Morpheus’s gaze. “Your presence has always made things better. I do not see why this activity would be any different.”

“I mean-”

“You are invaluable to me, Hob Gadling. Possibly more so now than ever.” They cross over the ice and back onto the thick rubber mats at the entrance. “I would not see you sell yourself short.”

“Right.” Hob says, because how do you reply to that, in a friendly manner? What Hob wants to do is to hold Morpheus’s face in his hands and snog the impossible creature right here in the middle of it all because the love he has for him is threatening to overflow. But he won’t. He does have some self control after all these years. That doesn’t make the urge easier to ignore, though.

Morpheus walks forward, dipping out of the crowd. The red beanie on his head, a stark contrast to the dark black locks of hair, rest askew on the top of his head. His scarf rests over his neck, but pulled free long ago. He's not the perfectly put together creature he used to be, but he's still gorgeous. He's human and it sends Hob's heart soaring every time the realization hits him again.

God, he loves him.

“In the movies, they go for hot chocolate after skating, yes?” Morpheus asks, pulling Hob out of his mind. They make their way out of the crowd and back to the bench near their discarded shoes.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, hot chocolate or something warm.” Morpheus smiles as he unlaces his skates.

“Good. I look forward to it.”

Hot chocolate it was. Not that Hob was complaining. He knew of Morpheus’s sweet tooth, after all. This man was going to be the death of him.

Sitting down next to his friend, Hob says, "Hot chocolate it is then."

#dreamling #hob gadling #dream of the endless #the sandman #ky writes #december writing list #kydrogen's december drabbles 2023

[cioneo]

somewhere to start

pairing: commander cody x f!reader fandom: the clone wars (star wars) word count: 2.4k warnings: walking in on someone (not y'all tho), mentions of war crimes, improper military dealings summary: cody planned on improving his strategy by working together with you, not fall in love notes: hi @catsnkooks! so sorry for keeping you waiting on your gift. hope you enjoy. (part of @cloneficgiftexchange)

"But she's a separatist," Cody looks at his general in disbelief.

His helmet hides his expression but he knows Kenobi can sense it. Through the force probably. Jedi tricks.

"Ex-separatist," Obi-Wan corrects him. "She knows how they operate. It'll be good for you to get a different take on the plan, we'll need all the help we can get for this mission.

"How can we even trust her? For all we know, she could be planted by them to mess it up. Or a spy and relay information to them."

"The council has deemed her actions true. She's been helping the Republic for a while now."

So that's why there's been a lot of success recently. Still, he tries to be wary of you.

The doors to the room slide open, revealing you propped up on a chair casually. After noticing their arrival, you stand and make yourself look more presentable. 

No wrinkles to be spotted anywhere on your uniform. Hands kept to your back. At first glance, he wouldn't be able to tell you were one of them. You blended so well in this environment. Just another Republic officer. 

Except you weren't. 

"You are Jedi General Kenobi?" you asked, seeming a bit unsure of how to address him.

"Yes, unfortunately I won't be staying here to discuss the plan," the Jedi Master says and turns to Cody. "I'm leaving my commander for the task. You know where to find me if you need anything."

Cody stands there rigidly, watching him exit the room then looking back at you.

"So, Commander, where do we begin?"

—

The meeting went smoothly, to say the least. Not that his battle plan was perfect, you pointed out only a few weaknesses. Like the defense formations, attack points, modes of transportation…

Scratch that, maybe it wasn't as good as he thought. The target, a droid factory, recently got upgrades in response to the usual tactics deployed against them. It was near impenetrable. Almost. Even as one of the Republic's top strategists, if not the best, he couldn't really wrap his head around planning this strike. The separatists were getting smarter as the war prolonged. 

But it wasn't horrible as well. In fact, you commended most of his tactics. 

He didn't really know what to think about you, to be honest. You might have been on the other side of the war once, but maker were you one hell of a brilliant strategist. And a pretty one too, he adds. The fact that you used to be the enemy doesn't bother him as much as it did in the beginning.

After your last contact, Cody had a lot to think about. New ideas emerged on how to attack the factory as efficiently as possible with minimal casualties. Hopefully none. He was more concentrated on the latter. It was his men, his brothers being put on the line.

Wanting to hear your input, he sends out a transmission to hold another discussion. Almost immediately, your response showed up on his datapad, accompanied by a ping to notify it.

In two days. Same room, same time. 

—

Cody sees you in front of the door and approaches. You only stood there, making no moves to enter the room. He hears you mumble under your breath, something about wanting to bleach your eyes out.

"Everything alright?" 

Your eyes widen as you turn to him and stare before comprehending Cody's words. "Oh Commander, you're here. Yeah no, I'm fine. Let's have this meeting someplace else."

"Why? What's wrong with this one?"

"Trust me, you do not want to know."

"Well now you've got me curi–"

"Someone's getting on with it there," you cut him off mid-sentence.

"As in?" he raises his eyebrows, worried he had the wrong idea in mind.

"Yeah, that way," you chuckle.

"Well, uh, we can ask them to leave."

"Or," you suggest. "We just let them be and go to the library close by. They have private rooms we can use."

Cody thinks it through. He wasn't up to having a meeting in a room where someone just had sex or waiting even longer to schedule a room. If it was truly as private as you said, it should be good enough. 

He agrees and follows your lead. It's silent, the journey there. You both not wanting to mention what just happened. At least that's what he assumed of you.

"Is that normal around here?" you break the tension.

Already knowing what you're referring to, he replies. "No."

"What about workplace relationships?"

"You sure do ask a lot of questions."

"Cause I haven't been here long. You know my situation."

The silence creeps up again. This time even more awkward than before, which Cody thought was impossible. 

"You can ask me anything too. It's not every day you get to work alongside the enemy."

He turns to you when you describe yourself as such. A joke, he thinks. 

"There are a few who commit to one but it's not so public," he answers. "My turn now. What made you defect?"

"Jumping straight there are we?"

"You don't have to answer that." 

"I don't mind, I did say you can ask," you reply, taking a moment before continuing. "At first it was a few offenses. I thought that it was necessary for the cause y'know? Help systems gain their independence. Then Mahranee happened and I couldn't do it anymore, so I left. Wish I did it sooner."

He wasn't there to witness the genocide but he recalls minor details of it. It was horrific even without the full picture, still is. Too many lives lost from the greed of one.

Cody doesn't respond. Not blaming you for what you did, but not offering comfort either. And so he asks again.

"Then why not quit and live comfortably? You weren't forced to work for us."

"This was all my choice," you stated. "War's all I've ever known really. Don't know what else I could do."

On that, he agreed. Bred and trained to be the perfect soldier, he knew of no life for himself outside it. His sole purpose, a meaning. The path to Marshal Commander already laid ahead of him before he could even breathe.

Cody didn't even want to think about what he'd do when it finally ended. Or if he even makes it to that point. 

Would the Republic emerge victorious?

You stop in your tracks and he follows suit. The library stood in front, its open doors welcoming any passerby.

As you walk towards the rooms, his eyes study the unfamiliar environment of endless shelves spread across the space filled with hundreds of books. Aside from the Jedi Archives, which was off limits to him, this was probably the closest thing available to the general public. 

He notices a few people looking up from their books to stare at him, trying to go unnoticed. No one ever thinks of a clone trooper going here. 

Some look with disdain, but Cody pays no mind to the attention. He'd gotten used to it now.

Finally reaching the room, you open it, and the lights automatically turn on. It looks just like the outside.

You set things up, find a spot to settle, and then ask. "Are you not gonna take your helmet off?"

Cody was stuck between the choice of removing it or keeping it on. On one hand, he could take it off since he is outside and it was way more comfortable. Over the years he had gotten used to having something around his head, but the feeling of not having it on was still better. 

Yet he also felt uncomfortable not wearing his helmet. It was almost like a second skin, an extension of himself. Without it, he felt naked, raw, and vulnerable. 

He decides to remove it.

Placing his hands on the bottom of his helmet, he pushes it up and a small hiss lets out.

Now with a better vision to scan his surroundings, he looks around the room.

"I go past this place often, never realized their rooms were so," he doesn't try to finish the sentence, the glimmer in his eyes already giving it away what words could not. 

"I come here a lot, only reason why I know about this," you explain then start. "Tell me about what you had in mind."

—

It was a fruitful session, you took a liking to all his suggestions. He felt as if he had achieved something.

After helping you clean up, he walks toward the exit but doesn't feel your presence trailing him. Turning around he calls out to you.

"Are you not coming?"

Stopping in your tracks you look back at him. "I'm just gonna grab some books. You can go ahead."

Cody nods and leaves you on your own.

—

"I'm surprised you still want to go over it again," you say as your eyes rake over the book spines ahead. "Your plans already good, I don’t think you could improve it even more."

"There's always room for improvement."

"I've never met someone as dedicated as you," your eyes look away from the books and finally land on his.

He feels warmth rushing its way to his cheeks. In an unsuccessful attempt to conceal it, he looks away.

"I'm not just trying to flatter you, I'm serious," you stressed. "No one else asks to talk strategy multiple times, especially with me."

If only you knew the real reason why.

He brings up your book obsession, changing the topic. "Why is it that every time we come here, you always borrow one?" 

"I can't help it, it's like they're begging me to take them away," you justify, going along with his diversion. "Do you read?"

"Only military textbooks. Nothing of this sort."

"Doesn't that get boring after?"

"I don't do it for fun," he looks at you. "It's for my job."

"Lame," you playfully shove him, forcing him to squint at you. "So you're telling me you've never read fiction?"

He nods.

"You should try it, branch out a bit out of your zone."

"Maybe."

"Look, I really don't know what else to say about your plan except that it's excellent. If you really want to refine it, which I highly doubt you can, have someone else give their view on it."

But Cody didn't want anyone else. He wanted it to be you.

"Maybe," he repeats. "Speaking of, I have a mission briefing tomorrow. You're free to come if you want." 

His voice faltered slightly at the last sentence. Cody hoped he didn't sound too demanding. 

"I'm not sure I can make it. I'll have to see what I have tomorrow." 

—

This was standard procedure to Cody. Standing in a room filled with soldiers, most from his own battalion this time with some from the 501st. The blue luminous of the holo reflecting from his armor. General Kenobi and Skywalker were there as well, all watching him detail the plan to destroy the separatist factory. 

While explaining, he tries to find that familiar face against the sea of identical helmets, the one that somehow always manages to make his heart race. 

Ever since he met you, everything about him changed. He lost his stoic and commanding attitude, which were distinct to him, whenever he was around you. If others had seen the way he acts with you, they'd probably think they'd mistaken him for someone else.

But it never appears. 

He understands that you were always one to stick close to schedules, accepting that you might not show up.

He had held out hope that he'd see you before the mission. Maybe as an an assurance that you'd still want to see him again, even after your work together is concluded. Hoping that you were fond of him just as he was of you. 

To see him as more than just that clone who keeps setting up appointments with you.

Maybe he shouldn't have. All it ever leads to is disappointment. 

—

The sounds of the gunship engines powering up were already loud, not to mention the marches of troopers heading to their assigned positions.

Cody does a quick survey on all of his men, making sure they're right where they're needed. As second in command, he felt responsible for all lives in the field. 

He was assisting a rookie, unfortunate to have this as his first deployment when he saw you at the corner of his visor. After guiding him, Cody made his way to your standing figure waiting for him. 

If you were to ever show up, this was the last place he'd expect. He didn't tell you which hangar he'd be departing from. 

So you had to go out of your way to ask around for that information. Not an easy one to get.

"What are you doing here?" he takes off his helmet, surprise evident on his face. "Thought you were too busy."

"I am, just came here to say good luck."

Your fingers lightly trace over his pauldron. It was as if his own skin were melting from your touch despite the plastoid material blocking the contact. 

Cody turns his head towards your bold yet appreciated gestures, then looks back up to your eyes. "Is that all?"

Your hand returns to your side. "Yeah. I don't want you dying, it'll look bad on my record."

"Nice to know you care for my well-being," he says, letting out a small smile that would've gone unnoticed had you not been gazing at him so intently.

"It'd be a shame if you didn't come back. I really wanted to see you again outside of work, Commander."

"Heh, a date. I was actually planning on taking you out first."

"Got impatient waiting for you to ask officially. And besides, I thought all those 'meetings' were counted as one already.."

"Right. You got a place in mind?"

"Our usual spot."

"Another visit there? You do not need another book."

"Yes I do. And you're coming with me so I can hook you up with some. I have a few in mind."

"Looking forward to that mesh'la."

#commander cody #commander cody x reader #tcw #the clone wars #sw #star wars #my writing #CFGE23

[foxymoxynoona]

"Can I interest you in some cookies?" with a loving husband and father of two, Min Yoongi. please and thank you Foxy😌

Characters: Dad Yoongi x Reader Words: 4963 CW: references to sex, some swearing, otherwise just fluff

[Sugie]: need anything from store on my way home?

[Y/N]: onion diapers sz 4 wipes (NO scent!) kid toothpaste stwbry cucumber cheese sticks 

[Y/N]: bananas bandaids rice blueberries if on sale

[Y/N]: apple juice for kids 

[Y/N]: 8*stwbry flavor toothpaste

Yoongi reads between the lines of your disorganized list, no doubt dashed together as you whirl through the house to see what’s low or missing. You’re thinking about what to cook for dinner and seeing no onion. Size 4 diapers means Joo, who’s been leaking through the legs of her old kind since she started walking, a little on the late side but she’s really a power house now, especially when she runs headfirst into immovable objects; maybe she’s out of diapers or maybe you’ve had a day of cleaning the leaks and have made the call the toss the remaining ones. He’ll get the ‘active baby’ kind that Jungkook says work well because if it works for a kid of Jungkook’s it must work for Joo. The toothpaste will be for Kija and he disagrees they’re completely out because he’s still able to squeeze a little tiny bit but fine, he’ll give you this victory and go ahead and buy a new tube; maybe you’re hoping he’ll forget the argument that had seemed so important for some reason when you sent him the list the other day. He’s a little offended you don’t expect he’ll know the toothpaste has to be strawberry, not mint, but he’s learned his lesson that Kija will scream and cry and scrape at his mouth like it’s on fire. Three tubes of mint kids toothpaste wait in the cabinet for him to grow out of that someday.

Most of the food items are obvious but the bandaids could mean someone got hurt or that someone got into the box unsupervised. Kija is big on bandaids suddenly after two years of shrieking if you even tried to put one on and now suddenly every imagined bump needs a bandaid. 

But the rice…

[Sugie]: rice? I just bought some its in the bottom of the pantry

[Y/N]: bad storage place, got dump out all over kitchen

He sighs. 

Your typos gives him the image of you chasing children and dog through the house, texting distractedly while trying to get them corralled safely so you can make their early dinner. In the old days you texted as articulately as you spoke. He’ll cook something better for the two of you, he decides, and remembers to tell you that so you don’t just heat up extra dumplings for yourself too.

[Sugie]: i’ll cook so stay hungry

[Y/N]: k

Definitely busy. 

He makes quick work of the shopping trip, double checking he has everything on your list even though he had expected you’d only have one or two things for him because he was at the store two days ago. They don’t have strawberry kids toothpaste but hopefully watermelon will do –the bubblegum flavor he almost grabs has sparkles in it and Kija will decide that means it’s “spicy.” Yoongi is proud of himself for predicting this.

But now that he’s thinking about it, he feels bad about such a stupid argument about the toothpaste. Did it matter if you threw the tube away while there was still a squeeze or two left? You weren’t that cash-strapped right now. He didn’t know why he’d felt so strongly about his way being right. What a waste of energy, fighting with you over something stupid, when energy was already hard to come by.

So he grabs a box of cookies too, for you, the maple flavor ones that aren’t usually available outside of this time of year and sell out fast. They aren’t anything expensive, and definitely not as good as what you could bake on your own. But with two small children at home, him working full time and you still working part time as a compromise for juggling your careers and family, sometimes you have to take the shortcut to a treat. Boxed cookies instead of homemade. At least it was something.

The house is in chaos by the time Yoongi gets home and your stress level isn’t helping it. Knowing he was out busy but childless all day, you had hoped to have the kids settled, obedient, and clean when he walks through the door, to show what a good grip you have on things. He doesn’t expect it, but still you feel the need to prove that you can handle the kids all day just fine on your own and have it look tidy and have dinner on the table. The woman who does it all! After all, you’re the one who wanted to have the first kid. After all, you’re the one who suggested a second even though you had agreed on only one. Kija was too easy of a baby. He tricked you. And yes Yoongi had agreed, but when things didn’t go well, sometimes you felt like you’d tricked him too.

It is not a perfectly ordered and quiet household Yoongi walks into. You’ve made an appropriate snack for the kids to eat while waiting for Yoongi to get home with the ingredients for you to make the rest of dinner (or hopefully he will take over that part), but Joo choked on a piece of cracker and threw up a little, which scared you; Kija took advantage of your distraction to climb onto the back of the couch and throw his food onto the floor for Holy to gobble up; because Holy is there, you aren’t prepared for the puddle of pee in the hallway, which you step in as you’re dragging Joo to the nursery to clean up. When you yell at the unexpected warm puddle and jump to the side, you hit your shoulder on a picture frame, which crashes to the floor and shatters, making Joo cry. Kija and Holy come running to see what happened and you shriek at them to stay so they don’t walk through the glass, and Kija starts wailing at being shouted at.

This is what Yoongi walks into. You are on the verge of tears. One look at your husband’s surprised face is enough to nearly pitch you over the edge into your own meltdown. His lifted eyes feel like a lecture –but you should know better. He won’t lecture about something like this. Instead he scoops up Kija and takes Holy by the collar, guiding his dog son to the crate and his human son back to the TV. He returns a moment later with the broom, and you feel confident in picking your clear path the rest of the way to the nursery.

By the time you come back, Joo is clean and Yoongi is on his hands and knees cleaning up the dog pee and any small shards of glass. You suspect he’ll be out here again later tonight for one more wipe of the floor just to make sure there’s no glass left. You haven’t even said hello yet but you’re embarrassed he had to walk in and go right to problem-solving.

When he looks up at you, you start to apologize, “I’m sorry that–”

“Your leg is bleeding,” he points out. You hadn’t even noticed. The corner of the frame must have cut you on the way down.

So you settle Joo on the couch with Kija and go to clean yourself up this time. You finish around the same time Yoongi is bagging up the last of the dirty paper towels.

“Sorry about–” you start again, but this time he interrupts you with narrowed eyes, realizing, “Kids are too quiet.”

The two of you share a look and step quickly to the living room where bright flashy cartoons are lighting up an empty room. A toddler’s laugh is followed by the urgent hush of a child. And Holy is no longer in his crate.

“Kija,” Yoongi murmurs as you both follow the sound of nails scrabbling excitedly against tile –Holy, but that good pup never operates alone. You both dart to the kitchen to just stare in awe for a moment at the scene of chaos.

The grocery bags Yoongi set onto the counter have been upended. Holy has turned from the onions but the cucumbers are being shredded before your eyes. Joo has a fistfull as well that has no doubt gone through Holy’s mouth prior, but her other hand delicately holds a single cookie, still intact despite the fountain of crumbs around her. 

Kija is the cause of the waterfall, of course. He’s perched innocently on the counter, feet dangling, a box of cookies you weren’t even aware was on its way into the house ripped open like a fucking bear got to it and the cookies are mangled, pieces strewn across the counter, across Kija’s lap, and cascading down to Joo.

“Holy likes cookies,” Kija informs you and Yoongi with a crumby smile. You dart forward to knock the dog-masticated cucumber from Joo’s hand but it means she takes another bite of cookie before you can wrestle that from her too. The tantrum is instant as you pull her up, kicking and screaming, the whole bit because she’s clearly hoping her appa will insist you give the cookie back to her.

“You got into the bags,” Yoongi says, voice serious but steady. He scoops Kija off the counter, sending the cookies falling from his lap. Holy goes wild at the sound of more falling food and you’re the one to grab him, dragging him straight backwards as he scrabbles to try and stay. By the time he’s back in his crate, Yoongi has Kija and Joo both on the counter, feet in the sink as he rinses their toes and hands off. 

Only then do you recognize the smell of the maple cookies you enjoy so much; it’s almost enough to tip you truly into tears to realize Yoongi brought home your favorite cookies and not only did you not have a clean, orderly house for him to enter but now the cookies have been destroyed while he was cleaning up another mess that happened on your watch.

He’s mumbling to the kids and shaking his head; when you come over to offer to take over, he has a smile for you and finally a greeting,

“Seems like it’s been a crazy day, huh?”

“Yes,” is all you can manage as you collapse briefly against his arm, just for the comfort his his solid body. His energy immediately resets you. 

Yoongi’s home. The evening will be better now.

He lifts Joo from the sink first, settling her into your arms to hold as he towels off her toes with the dish towel, then he twists Kija.

“Ah, you were a naughty boy not helping your eomma,” he scolds Kija lightly as he works the towel. “If it’s a crazy day, it’s even more important for you to be a big brother.”

“I do help,” Kija defends. “I feed Joo! She is so hungry and I am so hungry too. It is past our dinner! And you’re late! Why did you go away all day today? It’s not the right thing to do.” He points at the digital readout on the fridge magnet to punctuate his reverse lecture, except not only can Kija not tell time, it’s not a clock, it’s an egg timer. The time right now is definitely not 02:17, that’s just how long was left when Yoongi cooked yesterday and decided the meat was ready before the timer went off and paused it so the beeping wouldn’t wake Joo up from an impromptu nap.

But now that he’s given his defense, Kija’s mouth widens out in that line Yoongi knows appears on his own face, and he gives his father a serious look, trying to gauge how in trouble he actually is.

“No one was bad,” you offer. “Just… busy. Today was a busy day.”

“It was a very busy day,” Kija agrees. He sounds like such a little man, sometimes you have to remind yourself that barely-four is still a very little kid. He watches Yoongi another second but then decides he’s not in trouble and launches into, “Eomma took us to the library for story time and it was about robots! I want to be the blue robot and Joo can be the green robot and you can be the white robot and–”

“Why are the kid books and shows all about robots?” Yoongi sighs, even though he knows that’s not totally true. 

Kija insists hotly, “There are buses and cars too! And airplanes and–”

“Don’t you like animals?” Yoongi presses. “What about mountains and the sea?”

You can’t stop yourself from snickering under your breath, “Yes I married such a nature-boy…”

“I like natural things! Didn’t I make that table and chairs for us?” He had, the very ones nestled in the corner of the kitchen where the four of you would gather to eat what was looking more and more like a dinner of takeout. With a self-aware smile, Yoongi adds, “I like nature as long as I have my computer and electricity and a fan. Then it’s ok. But robots… I want our children to appreciate the natural beauty in life.”

“I want to play with your phone,” Kija counters, a perfectly timed response, on theme even without him understanding how.

Yoongi gives you a look and laughs at his son as he sets him on the ground, “No. Go sit in silence and be alone with your thoughts.”

“I hate silence! I hate my thoughts!”

Now Yoongi is laughing; he’s never lost patiences when Kija gets mouthy, which he seems to do more now, though the obstinacy started as a toddler. He sounds like you, Yoongi had once insisted when you’d worried, but the truth is he sounds like Yoongi more often than you; you’re convinced he already has a sharp wit and a dry sense of humor, just like his dad. But he does happen to be going through a robot and race car phase, which Yoongi can’t identify with, and Kija does not seem to enjoy music in any particular way despite it being Yoongi’s life’s blood. 

But Joo does, soothed nightly by the soft melodies of lullabies her appa has composed for her. She giggles now as he leans in to kiss her toes, only to suddenly scowl and scold in her little chirpy voice, 

“No! My toes!”

Abruptly Yoongi stops and mutters playfully, “Already telling her old dad to back off…” A second later though she’s sticking her foot towards him again, trying to tempt him into more tickles expressly so she can tell him off again. She has no problem demanding what she wants, or defending what’s hers, or making it clear when she’s had enough of people and wants some quiet time. As soon as she could crawl, she was trying to break into Yoongi’s studio to get to his keyboard, where she’d jab at a few keys and then call for Appa, her desire for music developing earlier than her ability to verbally communicate it. But Yoongi understood and played for her, improvising melodies around the random keys she’d push. Just like Yoongi understood Kija’s need for praise when he’d make something cool, or more recently, for his dad to be engaged in the things he liked, even if Yoongi didn’t really care about race cars or robots. 

You were not surprised to have learned in the last four years that Yoongi is better as a father than you had ever dreamed. Not perfect. Your years of entering parenthood hadn’t been without friction and frustration. But his love for his children is always first and foremost and watching the way he listens to the children rattling off nearly incoherently about their day under his attention now warms you again. And fans the flame of your own feeling of failure.

Suddenly Yoongi stops them with a hand on each child’s head; they are confused and silenced by the odd behavior as Yoongi says to you, “Go sit and relax with them. I’ll make dinner.”

“It’s late. I didn’t even start rice–”

“I bought microwaveable,” he says –not just a compromise, but a reference to an argument you had in fact won, or at least the realities of parenting small children had. Yoongi had sworn to never have a microwave because of the “horrors” they did to food. But that was before the two of you became connoisseurs of meals that had gone cold while you tended to unfortunately timed diaper explosions, or sleepless nights of teething, of not wanting to turn the oven on to reheat the dino nuggets Kija refused at dinner but Yoongi loving himself a little more than just eating them cold like you do. 

“I wanted to have it ready when you got home,” you sigh. 

He can sense your frustration, though he doesn’t share any of your disappointment. He’s simply moved by understanding; today you were the one with the day busier than expected under the direction of small children. Other days it’s him. His fingers are light on your lower back as he nudges.

“You had the kids by yourself all day,” he shrugs. “It’s enough. Go sit and I’ll get food for everyone. And you will eat more than just cookie crumbs for dinner,” he adds, giving Joo a serious look that only makes the toddler smile. When Yoongi holds the look, eyes slowly narrowing, Joo starts to giggle. 

Yoongi, a fire-spitting underground rapper in his younger days with hard lyrics and rivalries with other artists? It’s impossible for his toddler daughter to imagine. She just performs an incredible feat of agility possibly only for toddlers and presses her foot into his mouth even though she’s still on your hip.

“Ah, kids these days…” he grumbles to make you laugh because he sounds like his own dad. You take the life raft he has offered you and go to watch cartoons with the children. They are deliciously quiet.

For better or worse, Yoongi’s arrival does not actually settle the day down, it simply gives you an extra pair of hands and a calmer mind. The kids eat next to nothing but then complain about being hungry. They cry when the TV is turned off to eat together. They cry when Yoongi won’t give them more cookies even though Kija claims they’re his favorite. Bathtime happens, to be left at that, and with obvious proof by the destruction of the bathroom. Joo has an accident before they even get a diaper onto her so technically bathtime happens again. Kija can’t find his special monkey he sleeps with –the one Yoongi brought back from the weeklong trip he took before Kija was old enough to remember and yet racked him with guilt for months– and then finds it in Holy’s crate which leads to a loud standoff between the two and then an emergency trip through the washing machine and dryer’s quick cycle, which delays bedtime but you both know it won’t happen without Raps the monkey anyway. Kija throws a fit about the different flavor of toothpaste, and the kids can’t agree on a story so it’s settled there will be two, and then there’s a fight for Yoongi’s lap until he shifts and shuffles in the rocking chair until they’re both snuggled down. 

You, the one who worked so hard to care for the children all day, are left with an empty lap on the ground, but other days these roles are reversed so you try not to be hurt by it. Instead you just admire the way Yoongi reads to the kids, so very different than your own attempts to sound like the characters. He just sounds like himself, his smooth voice gliding around the words as he tells the story of Olivia’s trip to the museum like it’s a conversation. In a way it is: every two pages Kija interrupts him to tell him something totally unrelated –a fact he learned about shrimp in a book at the library, that they saw a dog in a backpack on the train, that there were ants on the sidewalk in the park– and Yoongi’s eyebrow raise and he nods in acknowledgement of this precious fact Kija needed to share, and then he continues to story, his voice steady and slow.

Honestly, it’s putting you to sleep too. Yoongi’s way of speaking has always been soothing to you. It was one of the first things you loved about him, that no matter how worked up you were, however bad your day, he could speak about literally anything and his calming words and rhythm would rock you to a place of peace. 

It’s no surprise Joo is almost asleep when he finishes and Kija’s facts have petered out. You carry Joo to her crib and Yoongi tucks Kija into the little boy bed he’s only recently transitioned to; Yoongi and Kija built it together one afternoon from a kit as Yoongi tried to lecture Kija about the importance of building furniture with your own two hands and you tried not to giggle too loudly in the background about how cute your boys are. It took twice as long to build but afterwards Kija announce “Me and Appa are a superteam!” and Yoongi’s smile made clear he didn’t mind the delays.

You trade places, so each child gets a kiss or hair ruffle and whispered I love you from you both, and then meet at the door of the bedroom for one final glance before you shut it.

Except Yoongi has already gone down the hall, calling over his shoulder, “The pork wasn’t very good, I’lll make something else.”

“What? No, the pork was great and I ate enough.”

“Will you eat it if I make something else?”

“No,” you insist, knowing he won’t believe you. He doesn’t. He’s disappointed that he rushed the veggies and left the pork a little too long. It's not the meal he wanted you to have after an obviously tiring day with the kids. But you say again, “I don’t want anything else to eat. I just want…”

“Hm?” He freezes at the kitchen doorway, looking casually back at you as if everything in him doesn’t pause to see what you’ll say. You could say pretty much anything right now and he’d find a way to give it to you as thanks for the day focused on his work, as an apology that he wasn’t here to help, to express his regret that the dinner was not what you deserved.

“Just sit with me and watch a show. Do you have time or are you needing to go right to bed–”

“I have time for you,” he quickly assures you. “Do you want tea? Beer?”

“No, nothing.”

He brings you ice water anyways because he knows you forget to hydrate any when you’re chasing children. 

And he brings a plate, holding it out to you, the mangled remains of the maple cookies displayed.

“Can I interest you in some cookies?” he asked. 

The laughter bubbles out of you, followed by tears he predicted. He sets the water and plate of cookies on the table –with a stern “No” to Holy whose head lifts curiously from his bed by the TV. Then Yoongi bundles you into his arms, and stretches out into the corner of the couch and lifts the remote, silent and casual in his comfort of your minor breakdown. As soon as the show is selected –the next episode of something you two have been gradually making your way through, slowly since you each tend to fall asleep– he wraps both arms around you.

“Seems like it was a long day,” he says, hand stroking gently down your back. You nod under his chin. 

“Sorry,” you mumble. “I wanted to make it look easy and have everything nice when you came home after working all day–”

“Cut it with that bullshit,” he snorts. “I know it’s not easy. I just feel bad I was away all day–”

“You shouldn’t feel bad about it. It’s good! You deserve to go and it’s for your career… I know you keep passing on things to be at home.”

He shrugs again, voice low as he points out, “So do you.”

“Yeah, well…” It’s true. It’s true for both of you, and maybe, you consider, Yoongi feels that same blend of relief and regret that you do when you leave the house. The same blend you feel when you come home too. “It’s hard to want to be two places at once,” you sigh.

“Yeah,” he agrees. “So we’re doing the best we can, I think.”

You nod. It’s true. The rest of the world makes it look so easy, like as soon as you have children your interests become singular, your patience and energy unlimited, your bond with your partner unshakeable. The last four years have tested all of those things –and yet you don’t regret it, not really, even after a day like today.

“I don’t regret any of this,” he says, as if he’s read your mind. “Except the dinner.”

“I thought it was good.”

“That’s because you’ll eat cold dino-nuggets. Your taste has always been terrible.”

“Yoongi!” you cry, laughter lacing his name on your lips. “I chose you, didn’t I?”

“Proving my point.”

“No, disproving it. You made very good little kids, even if they were little stinkers today.”

“I didn’t make those, you made them. I just gave you some of the materials. Maybe I’ll give you some more materials tonight.”

It earns a giggle against his chest. You both know you’ll fall asleep too quickly to get that far, even if you try to rally right now. You also know the materials won’t be true; a small procedure months ago has made sure that Kija and Joo will be the only two offspring for Min Yoongi. Two felt right to you both. Two felt like the maximum. Sometimes two felt like too much but you pushed through those moments, and once the glass and pee and cookie crumbs were cleaned up, two felt right again. 

“What, you don’t think I can?”

“I’m not sure I’ll be awake for it,” you admit.

“Ah, it’s like that, huh? I’ve lost my touch.”

“Your touch is good, my energy meter is just low.”

“Have some cookies, maybe the sugar will help you rally.”

“Why… wait, you really want to? Tonight?”

“I don’t know… you were so busy all day, I won’t bother you…”

“It’s not a bother, I just figured you were working all day…” You’re flattered now by the sudden bashfulness as he refuses to meet your eye when you push up against his chest. How many years have you been together now? And he still gets shy sometimes. You adore him, there’s no need to be shy, but it’s a core part of him and you treasure it, just as much as you melt at the times he is very much not shy about his wants.

So you reach over and grab a handful of cookies from the plate. They crumble in your hand, but still you sit up to eat the remains. It helps that he looks horrified by the crumbs escaping your cupped palm. You can’t stop giggling. He starts laughing too as Holy comes over to inspect this windfall.

“I just wanted to bring you your favorite cookies,” he sighs.

“I just wanted the house to be nice for you,” you point out. “Anyway, I’m still eating the cookies.”

“In crumbs.”

“They still taste good.”

“I’m so glad you have bad taste,” he sighs. You hold out a hand and he opens his mouth but doesn’t seem to expect you’ll actually dump some small pieces into it. Now he’s laughing and you’re both missing the show but you don’t care. He slings his arm around your shoulder and pulls you close. 

“I’m so glad I had good taste when it mattered,” you argue, poking his side. 

You don’t have to see it to feel his gummy grin as he says, “Come on, I’m not that great–”

“I mean about this flavor of cookies, they’re really good.”

“You brat.”

The giggles are the final balm you needed, and maybe for him too. He seems happy when he drags you back in his arms and he doesn’t have to say it for you to know he’s glad to be home, and glad to be here with you. Even when it’s hard, you’re happy together. Even when your dinners aren’t perfect and your cookies get crumbled. Even when you both are interested at the suggestion of sex but then fail to make it to the end of the episode despite your best intentions.

It’s ok. There will be many more nights. You’re both learning, like how he should have just taken you right to the bedroom instead of watching the episode. But maybe the snuggles on the couch were all you each wanted or needed anyway. 

It’s ok. You still feel Yoongi’s love because in the morning he takes the kids and lets you sleep, and pulls the blanket back over you before he leaves the bed, and that really is love. And because of that, tonight you will make sure you have energy. 

Probably. Maybe. Hopefully.

It’s ok. Waking up to the sound of your husband's low chuckles and the high giggles of your children is worth it all. And unlike that business about the toothpaste, Yoongi couldn’t agree with you more.

#yoongi drabble #yoongi x reader #yoongi x y/n #yoongi fluff #yoongi fanfiction #dad yoongi #yoongi ff #bts fanfiction #yoongi fanfic

[foreverindreamlandd]

Locker Drama

Pairing: Neighbor!Steve Harrington x Plus Size!Reader

WC: 2.3k

Summary: Your locker neighbor, Tommy, can't seem to stop being an asshole to you. Even though they're technically friends, Steve draws the line when it comes to picking on someone who is apparently extremely important to him.

Warnings: Bullying, body image, fatphobia, protective Steve, does not contain spoilers for the show Stranger Things. Unedited because I am a piece of human garbage :,)

Note: Okay....so this is going to be the first fic within the Neighbor!Steve Harrington x Plus Size!Reader world. It's going to be a very loosely-structured series, friends to lovers with no real timeline (next fic could be them married with ten kids....kidding but you get the gist lol....hopefully). I hope you enjoy it! :)

*****

“All I’m saying is that when I grow up, I’m going to become Vice Principal of a school and tell any student athlete who thinks they have the right to skip finals and not do their homework to fuck off.”

You blanched at your best friend, shaking your head as you put your math books in your locker. “Robin, I’m pretty sure if you told a student to fuck off you would be fired on site.”

Robin groaned, head tilting up in frustration and leaning against the closed lockers beside yours.

“Fine,” she said. “I’ll just give them the detentions they deserve rather than just letting them off the hook for being the golden children of the school. Us band kids have more brains and talent than any of those boneheads and we get diddly squat.”

“At least we can find solace in the fact that we most likely won’t peak in high school.” You grabbed your supplies for science class. “Well, you might actually, if you end up working at one, Mrs. Vice Principal.”

Your lips quirked up into a smug grin as Robin groaned again, this time turning to lean her forehead on the locker.

“Okay, new plan,” she said. “How about-”

“Can you believe Mr. Cooper gave me an F on my paper?” You fought back a groan as the whiney voice of your locker neighbor approached. “I know I got every answer right because I was copying off of that redhead’s work!”

Tommy Hagan - whom you affectionately referred to as Freckles - strolled over to the locker next to yours, head turned in the other direction at his girlfriend Carol as she pressed her body against his.

Though she was tiny, it was enough force to knock Tommy back and bump into you.

He turned to sneer at you. “Watch it, Tubby.” 

Your heartbeat quickened as both rage and shame flooded through you. At least the nickname you had given Freckles was somewhat tame. Tommy gave you one look up and down at the beginning of the school year and immediately deemed you as Tubby.

The first time he said it, you had thought you were hallucinating. It had always been your biggest insecurity, ever since you had put on weight in middle school, and kept putting it on up until this point no matter how many miles you ran and how many diet programs your mom had you try. Still, most of your peers had the courtesy of not saying anything, just letting you exist as long as you kept quiet and didn’t cause any problems.

Not Tommy, though. He just liked to push people’s buttons, and although he was dumb as rocks, he had a knack for identifying the things that hurt you the most.

The nickname stung like salt to a wound, but you knew to keep your head down and stay quiet. You saw what happened when people tried to fight back with Tommy. It only made him want to ramp it up.

He relished in the attention.

Your dearest, hot-headed best friend did not understand that, though, so when she heard his crude remark she scoffed. “Excuse you, numbnuts. But you’re the one who crashed into her.”

You narrowed your eyes at Robin, silently telling her to stop as Carol mewled. “Watch out, baby, you’re upsetting the freaks.”

“Yeah, well, I’m upset that I have to be in such close proximity as them all day!” Tommy’s voice grew louder as he opened his locker, side intentionally bumping into you once more to make a point. “All I’m saying is that it would be nice to have a locker next to someone who took up so much space! I can barely move around here.”

Carol giggled as tears started to burn your eyes. You kept your face in your locker in an attempt to hide your large frame from the world.

Maybe if I stand still for long enough I’ll just blend in and no one will notice me.

With your locker door still open, Tommy was out of view, so you only heard the slam of his door and a small yelp from Carol.

“That’s enough, Tommy,” a familiar voice declared.

Tommy scoffed. “Come on, Harrington. Just airing my grievances.” You could hear the dumb smile on his face.

“No, you’re just being a dick.”

You allowed yourself one small, almost unnoticeable smile.

“Why your panties all up in a bunch, King Steve? Am I being mean to your girlfriend or something?”

Your smile dropped.

There was a few moments of silence, and you could only imagine the type of disgusted face Steve was making then. 

“Just shove off and get to class before another teacher flunks you and you can’t be on the team anymore,” Steve responded, the fight gone from his voice, switching to the charismatic popular guy that almost everyone knew and loved.

This Steve made you sick to your stomach.

Regardless of the disappointment you felt, Steve’s shift in demeanor was enough to distract Tommy. “Ms. Pine would never flunk me, especially now that her daughter is on the cheerleading team. Gotta make sure our team makes her look as good as possible, which means I get a free ride through history.”

You heard him mumble a let’s go, baby to Carol and then the hallway immediately became less tense.

You still couldn’t move, though, still horrified by the public humiliation.

“I’ll kill that asshole,” Robin muttered, crossing her arms.

“It’s fine,” you whispered, quickly wiping your tears. 

“Hey.”

The familiar voice, now much softer and more sympathetic, was right behind you.

You closed your eyes for a second and willed the tears away before turning.

Steve Harrington stood in front of you, hands in his pockets and shoulders sagged, hair perfectly swooped to the side.

His lips were pressed into a thin line. “Sorry about that.” He shrugged. “Tommy’s an idiot.”

“He’s also a jerk, and still your best friend,” Robin cut in, glaring at Steve.

You watched him bite the inside of his cheek as his eyes flashed to Robin, running his fingers through his hair.

“It’s fine.” It seemed as if those were the only two words you were capable of saying.

“It’s not fine,” they both said at the same time, Robin with much more bite and Steve with a quiet assurance.

They both locked eyes in shock that they managed to agree on something, horror painting across their faces.

You couldn’t help but giggle at it.

Steve’s eyes went back to you, smile spreading across his face at the sound of your laugh.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked, head tilting down a bit, making it so that his large, deep brown eyes stared into yours through his long lashes.

You fought the butterflies as they tried to swarm your stomach. 

“I’m fi- okay,” you said, switching words when Steve’s eyes narrowed.

He nodded. “I’ll deal with Tommy. Meet you after school?”

You nodded back. “Sounds good, Steve.” 

His smile grew ever so slightly when you said his name, and after making eye contact with Robin - who continued to glare at him - he walked down the hallway to his next class.

“You know I love you,” she said, shoulder leaning against the locker, “but I’ll never understand why you let that guy breathe the same air as you.”

You huffed. “It’s not like we’re besties, Robin.” Well, you used to be, but that was before Steve started high school and became an instant celebrity at Hawkins High. When Steve Harrington was just Stevie, and he was your favorite person in the entire world.

Now?

“He’s just my ride. As if I’d give up the BMW so I can ride the bus where the rest of the bullies dwell.”

She pursed her lips, still not buying it.

You sighed. “He’s a good person, Robin, I promise.”

At that, she scoffed, shaking her head and wrapped her arm around your neck to lead you to your next class.

“You’ve spent too much time in close proximity with Freckles, Y/n,” she muttered. “His idiot brain is starting to run off on you.”

*****

“How the hell do you have a B in chemistry?” Steve asked, shaking his head as you both got out of the car. “Erikson is brutal. I barely managed to get a D.”

“Hate to break it to you Steve,” you said while swinging your backpack over your shoulder, “but some studies show that doing your work and paying attention in class helps you learn enough to get a good grade.”

He whined, steps falling in line with yours as you approached the school building. “I bet it’s all a hoax. You actually suck at school and have found some new top-secret method of cheating.”

You gasped, feigning offense. “How dare you try to unveil my master plan and risk destroying my reputation as the school nerd?”

Steve laughed, opening the door for you as you walked in. “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me.”

The two of you shared a small smile as you headed down the hallway. Your locker was closest to the entrance, so you prepared to break away and not see Steve until the end of school.

So it confused you when his stride continued to match yours, slowing as you both veered off to your locker.

Your eyes narrowed at him, slowly putting in your combination. “Listen Steve, I know you promised to keep things with Tommy handled, but I promise you don’t have to be my bodyguard anytime I’m at my locker.”

Steve’s head jerked back as he gave you a confused look, raising his hand to the lock of Tommy’s locker. “What do you mean? This is where all my stuff is.”

Your fingers began mindlessly turning your own lock, suddenly forgetting the combination as you stared at him wide eyed. “What…”

“I switched lockers,” he said with a casual shrug. You could see the corners of his lips twitch as he fought back a smile.

“You what?”

“What? It’s no big deal, Y/n. Tommy seemed to have such a big issue being here, whereas I think this is prime real estate.”

You bit your bottom lip, stomach turning to knots. “Steve…”

“It’s fine, Y/n. Besides, it makes sense that we’re neighbors in school and at home.” His face turned serious for a moment. “I told you I’d handle it. Now, you don’t have to worry.”

You scowled. “He’s still your friend, though. So he can come here and harass me anytime he wants-”

Steve shook his head. “Nope. Told him if he stepped foot anywhere near here that I’d have coach put him on the bench for the rest of the season.” He opened his locker, tossing his bag in and grabbing his books. His brows rose when he turned back to your still stunned expression. “Are you going to open your locker yet? Don’t want to be late for class and ruin that master plan of yours, Miss Cheaterpants.”

A bark of a laugh erupted from your chest and you lightly slapped Steve on the arm, pulling giggles from your new locker neighbor.

It brought an overwhelming sense of relief, having him by your side instead of Tommy. For months, you dreaded stopping here between classes, shielding yourself for another snide comment from Freckles.

Now, you didn’t need to worry. Steve was here, and though you weren’t the best friends you had been your whole lives, having him by your side made this spot finally feel like a safe space.

You turned your attention back to your lock, opening the door and grabbing books for your first class.

The worst part about Tommy’s complaints were that technically it was sometimes true. You did take up more space than others, meaning that your arm would inevitably wiggle around in his area as you moved.

And so, of course, the same thing would happen with Steve.

When your hip bumped against his, any sense of relief you had felt crumbled in seconds, the familiar feeling of shame the only thing left in its wake. 

Steve felt your body go rigid, and he rested a hand on your shoulder. “Hey,” he said, turning your body to face him. There was a tenderness in his face that you hadn’t seen in years. “The shit that he said yesterday, what I assume he’s been saying…it’s all bullshit, Y/n.”

You tried to shrug and force a smile, but Steve knew you better than that, and his hand squeezed your shoulder. “No, listen.” His eyes pierced yours, face leaning forward until it was inches from yours. “What he said was absolute bullshit, and he’s a complete idiot for not realizing how lucky he was to be so close to you all the time.”

His breath tickled your skin, causing you to blink a few times as you tried to identify the tone he was using as he said this. This was nothing like the Steve you grew up with, nor was it the voice of King Steve, ruler of Hawkins High.

This was something different, and it brought heat to your core.

He seemed to lose himself for a moment, leaning less than an inch closer and the movement was so overwhelming your breath hitched. That seemed to be enough to break the tension, and Steve swallowed, standing straight and grabbing his books.

“I should get going,” he murmured, using his free hand to run his fingers through his hair. He gave you a small smile. “See you next period?”

You blinked a few more times, bobbing your head up and down slowly.

Steve bit his bottom lip, staring at you for a few more seconds before closing his locker door and heading down the hallway.

Your gaze remained on the spot he had been standing at moments ago, a part of you wondering if you were dreaming.

Maybe the new locker situation wouldn’t be as easy as you thought….

*****

Thank you for reading! :)

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