#I couldn’t come up with cool ideas for the secret lives of others so feel free to add!! Or just add anything :D

[xopearlz]

pinky promise | katniss e.

𓆉 katniss everdeen x fem reader

summary: katniss made you a promise before the games, and now that she’s back she’s going to keep it.

cw: fluff!!, little angst, but not much, rain kiss scene bc why not??? sfw!!

a/n: first ever post!! might not be the best as im not that good at writing yet but thats ok. beginning takes place before the games and the end takes place after, time jumps are divided by a dash (-)

wc: 1.1k

your hands brush past the rough bark as you move briskly through the trees, keeping your eyes out. you hear a snap of a twig, causing your movements to halt as you listen closely. a hand places itself in the small of your back, causing you to let out a small gasp as you jump away, turning. you smile once you see who the hand belonged to, walking over.

“gosh, you scared me! you have to stop sneaking up like that.” you grin, katniss smiles back.

“if you’re going to be out in the woods, you have to focus better on your surroundings. who knows whats out here.” she replies and you roll your eyes playfully. she reaches out a hand which you take, interlocking your fingers as they brush against her slightly rough skin.

she leads you further into the woods, stopping at the edge of a lake. you let go of her hand and head to the edge, sitting upon a big rock that rests besides the water. you dip your fingers in, relishing in the cool sensation. katniss watches you for a moment before walking over and sitting besides you. you turn to her with a soft smile and she reaches a hand to brush the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“you always look so pretty, especially surrounded by nature.” you blush slightly, turning your head to look at the lake. she smiles at your reaction.

“i’m serious, you really do.” she says softly, watching over your features, her thumb gently brushing your cheek as she holds the side of your face in her hand.

you and katniss had been seeing each other in secret for a while, not wanting to risk anything with the chance of getting reaped still present for the next few years of your lives. you had known each other for only a few years, but it felt like forever. you chew gently on the inside of your cheek, thinking about the reaping which was upcoming in the next few days. katniss noticed the change in your face and her brows gently furrowed.

“what is it?” she asks, causing you to turn back to her. “what’s wrong?” you sigh softly.

“it’s just the reapings… what if one of us gets picked?” a slight hint of worry is in your voice. her hand still cups your face gently.

“it’ll be fine, they won’t take you from me. i won’t let them.” you shake your head slightly.

“but what if they take you?” she looks you in the eyes, gaze unwavering.

“i’ll come back to you. then we can be together.” you nod before holding up your pinky.

“promise?” you ask, to which she smiles softly.

“promise.” she confirms as she wraps her pinky around yours.

-

you sat on the couch, blunt nails digging into the armrest as you watched the broadcast of the annual hunger games. katniss had volunteered for her sister primrose who had gotten picked, and many things have happened since then. for starters, the male tribute, a bakers boy named peeta, declared he was in love with katniss. to make matters worse, you had to watch them as they kissed. you barely focused on the games after that, tuning in from time to time to get an idea wether or not katniss had survived, yet the bitter feeling of jealousy washed over you. you were never officially together, only in secret, so you couldn’t really be mad. maybe katniss just found something better and assumed because it was private then there wouldn’t be a point in discussing it. your stomach churned at the thoughts.

-

the day had come of katniss’ return. of course, she was returning with her newly found lover, yet all that mattered was she survived. at least, that’s what you tried to believe. you couldn’t ignore the feeling that washed over you when you saw the two of them get off the train together, holding hands. you couldn’t stop yourself from turning around and going home rather than trying to greet the other. you also couldn’t stop yourself from staying locked in your house, avoiding any possible encounters with katniss. you could only avoid the inevitable for so long, however.

you find yourself back at the lake you were at only a few weeks ago, watching the small tadpoles swimming around the clear water. there’s a light sprinkle of rain, raindrops falling softly onto your face. you don’t sit on the rock as you did before, instead standing off to the side. you feel a presence, causing you to turn around. you were greeted by katniss who offered a small smile.

“guess you started focusing on your surroundings.” she says slightly sarcastic. you chew on the inside of your cheek, turning back towards the lake. katniss’ smile drops as she walks over.

“hey, what’s wrong? you’ve been avoiding me ever since the games…” she starts, reaching her hand towards yours. the metallic taste of blood slightly fills your mouth as you bite harder down. you focus your gaze on the tadpoles.

“i’m surprised you even noticed, considering your new ‘star crossed lover.’” you mutter. she brings a hand to cup your face and turn your head towards her. your gaze finally meets hers, her hands are softer than before.

“he’s not my lover. it was for the games.” she breathes out a small sigh through her nose. “you are my lover, nobody can change that.” she smiles, and you feel your heart quicken.

you had been jealous of the boy, enough to not see the accomplishment katniss had made by winning the games. you offer a soft smile, shaking your head slightly.

“i guess i was jealous.” katniss lets out a small laugh.

“why?” you gently bite on your lip, looking down.

“because he got to kiss you.” katniss is silent for a moment, her thumb brushing your cheek.

“he doesn’t get to kiss me now.” she says quietly, causing you to look at her once again. her eyes are soft and she smiles slightly, and she starts to lean in. your eyes flutter shut as her lips meet yours. her lips are slightly chapped, but you could care less. she had come back to you. 

the rain seems to fall harder as you wrap your arms around her neck. after a while, you both pull away to breathe. you smile at her, fingers brushing through her hair she had chosen to keep down.

“i told you, i promised you.” you nod, giggling slightly. you take a moment to look her over, sensing a new level of maturity she gained from the games. even at sixteen, she seemed older.

“what?” she asks, causing you to focus.

“you’re just so pretty.” you say, and she smiles. you giggle slightly as she places another soft kiss on your lips.

she takes your hand in hers, intertwining your fingers together. you lean your head on her shoulder and look back to the lake, the rain going back to a slight drizzle as it splashes gently on the water.

#katniss #katniss everdeen #hunger games #thg katniss #katniss x reader #katniss x you #katniss everdeen x reader #fluff #thg fanfiction #xopearlz

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Bad For Business: Level Four

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [2.2K] An enemies to lovers au. Arcade coworkers, who love to hate each other, get too competitive about Dig Dug and share a mutal annoyance for the kids that like to pester them. Choose your own adventure by picking an option at the end of the chapter.

There was a boy at the desk asking for you. 

He was tall and a little wild looking, unruly dark curls and tattoos peeking out from under the leather and denim he wore, all ripped off sleeves and silver rings. He was smirking at Steve like he knew something he didn’t, like was in on some sort of secret. 

Steve didn’t like him. 

“She’s on her break,” Steve told him, eyes narrowed like he couldn’t help himself. “Went to the store or something.”

Steve expected that to be the end of it, but the boy with all the rings just grinned, dimples on show before he hoisted himself onto the desk. “I’ll wait,” he said, too cheery. “I’m Eddie, by the way. Munson.”

Steve nodded, keeping his distance as he pretended to tidy away loose rota sheets, used up ticket stubs and a piece of paper Robin and Argyle had been drawing progressively larger dicks on. One had wings and a halo. 

“Yeah, I know,” Steve frowned. He was still suspicious. Why was the local drug dealer coming in and asking for you? The arcade was quiet enough that Steve didn’t have an excuse to leave, and honestly, he wanted to stick around and see. “Just didn’t realise you guys… knew each other.”

Eddie looked smug in an awful way, still acting like he was clued into something Steve didn’t have any idea about. Like he was trying not to laugh at him. The longer haired boy tilted his head to the side, all charm and bravado, still smiling. “Oh yeah.” He nodded, enthusiastic. “We know each other real well. Super close.”

You hadn’t mentioned Eddie before. Not in front of Steve. Fuck, you’d never mentioned any sort of boyfriend at all. But then Steve remembered nights that it rained, when he’d jog to his car only to see you run past him, jacket over your head and clambering into an old van, the windows dark enough that you could never see the driver. 

Maybe he’d been kidding himself all those times when he assumed it was your dad. 

“Oh,” fuck, is that all he could say? “Cool.” 

There was a beat of silence between them, smothered in arcade game jingles and alarm bells that announced a new winner, but the air was heavy enough to be felt, thick with a tension Steve wasn’t used to. 

Was this what being threatened felt like? 

No. No. Steve didn't have anything to feel threatened about. So why was he still talking?

“I guess - I mean - well, I just never knew she had a boyfriend.” Steve cleared his throat, all awkward and he found himself standing a little straighter, chest puffed out, chin held high.  

Thank fuck Robin wasn’t on shift, ‘cause Eddie was laughing and suddenly Steve felt about three feet shorter. What the fuck was this guys problem?

“I didn’t know you gossiped about your love lives, Harrington,” Eddie shot back. His smile was wolfish and it looked like a challenge, it felt like a dare. “You interested in who she’s hangin’ out with outside of work?”

“What?” It was jarring, the way Steve’s stomach dropped. A new kind of nervousness twisting around his guts, a heat that crawled from his stomach to his chest. His cheeks felt too warm. “What? No. Jesus, no, I just— we’re not even friends.”

It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it still tasted like one. Bitter and acidic, like swallowing a too big pill without water. It got stuck in his throat, made him wince. 

Eddie tutted, leaning back in his hands, taking up the majority of space on the counter top. His legs were swinging, rips across his knees in his black jeans, a chain hanging from his belt looks, glinting in the neon lights. He looked like he was having far too much fun. 

“That’s a shame,” Eddie twisted his lips, big eyes looking all sad, acting up like he was on stage or something. “She’s real sweet, isn’t she?”

Steve scoffed, a choked out laugh that made Eddie’s lips twitch up. Steve busied himself with more loose papers, bundling together things that weren’t supposed to be filed with each other, name badges and empty chocolate wrappers stuck between faxes. 

“Uh, sure, maybe,” Steve wrinkled his nose, squinting at the other boy. “I don’t know. She’s never, uh, all that sweet to me.”

And then Eddie was laughing, a full, bright cackle of a laugh and Steve was once again left feeling like he didn’t know the full joke. But he didn’t get to ask what he’d missed, what was so funny, ‘cause a kid who could hardly see over the desk approached him, a sticky hand full of equally sticky tickets that he wanted to swap for some knock off Star Wars toy. Disgruntled, Steve fussed with the glass cabinet where they kept all the ‘prizes’, his gaze flickering between Eddie and the door.  

Surely you’d be back soon. Right? To see your boyfriend.  

When the kid was gone, happily clutching his ‘nightsaber’ (even Steve knew that was wrong), Eddie was watching him again. 

“She’s pretty, right?” 

Steve froze. “What?” Was this some kind of trick? Who the fuck goes ‘round asking other dudes if they think their girlfriend is pretty? “I don’t— I’ve never—”

Eddie was grinning. Again. That Cheshire Cat smile, white teeth flashing somewhat threateningly. Steve didn’t know what the fuck was going on. Was this about last week? The powercut? Did you go home and tell your boyfriend how close Steve got to you, how he held your hand and for once in his goddamn life, Steve Harrington didn’t wanna argue with you?

“You don’t think she’s cute?”

Nothing had happened. Nothing ever would’ve. It couldn’t. You hated him, and Steve hated you. Right? Right. 

“Look, dude, I don’t know what your deal is, but I’m not trying to hit on your girl, alright?” Someone got a new high score on the pinball machine across from the desk and an alarm rang, tickets flying out of the dispenser, lights flashing red and green. It felt like a warning. “She— we— we don’t talk, alright? Not like that, god, we’re not friends, okay?”

Eddie didn’t really seem to believe him, but Steve was more than relieved when the boy shrugged and slid off of the counter, dimples on show, beaming at him. He dusted his hands off like he’d completed whatever task he’d come to do before dropping a set of keys in front of Steve. 

“Tell uh, my girl, that it was a radiator leak. No biggie. Car’s out front,” another flash of a smile, too charming now. Steve’s head was spinning. “Catch you later lover boy.”

What the fuck?

Eddie made his way past a crowd of kids, neon signs lighting up his skin in shades of lime green and fuschia. He spun before he got to the door, clapping his hands together and pointing back at the other boy, like he’d just remembered something important. 

Is this where Eddie threatened him? Told him to stop looking at his girlfriend and keep his hands to himself? It was a fucking powercut, it was pitch black, what was he supposed to do? Let her hurt herself? The argument was already playing out in Steve’s head, his defence at the ready. 

Besides, he could take Eddie Munson, right? Sure he was pretty much the same height but Steve was broader, stronger, surely. But maybe Eddie had that trailer park kid scrappiness, that feral sort of energy Dustin said Max exuded when she got ramped up—

“And, uh, Harrington?”

Steve felt his fist tighten around the countertop. 

“You’ll catch more bees with honey than vinegar.” Eddie saluted, a massive skull glinting silver and pink in the light, and then with a wink, he was gone. 

What the fuck?

He didn’t get a chance to ask what Eddie was on about, because Lucas Sinclair and Dustin Henderson approached the desk, ignoring how he was standing with his mouth agape, brows knitted together in confusion. Everything was almost forgotten about as he argued with the two young boys about how no, he didn’t know when Donkey along was getting fixed, and no, he wasn’t prepared to let them poke about at the machine with Dustin’s backpack screwdriver. 

And then you came back from your lunch, a flash of daylight breaking the darkness of the arcade as the door opened and shut behind you. Steve watched you hand a wrapped sandwich to Argyle before making your way around the desk to where he stood. 

Maybe he was staring, maybe that’s why you were looking at him weird. Maybe that’s just the kinda gaze you gave him on the daily. You were wearing a skirt today, black and swishy around your thighs, your staff shirt cut off so it hit just above your navel, much to Murray’s despair. There was a warning written up and stuck to your locker, but you hadn’t seemed to care. 

“What?”

Shit, Steve was still staring. He blinked, shrugged and turned back to the cash machine, despite no customers to serve. “What? Nothin’, god.”

You didn’t argue with him, just narrowing your eyes at his strange mood before pushing your way into the staff room. It was empty bar someone’s leftover lunch and a walkman that lay on the table and then suddenly Steve was barging his way into the too small room, a familiar set of keys in his hands. Your disco ball keychain sent rainbows over the walls, tiny glimmers of light across Steve’s cheeks, his hands, his arms. 

He held them out to you, cheeks tinged pink like something had happened and you’d missed it, ‘cause he couldn’t really look you in the eye either. You stared, taking your keys from the boy slowly, like any sudden movements would scare him. 

Not that you cared. 

Steve spoke before you could say thanks, leaning against Murray’s abandoned desk with his hands shoved in his pockets as he cleared his throat. The air was heavy with something, more tension than you were used to, a weight to it that was more than summer air and teenage hormones. 

“Your uh, your boyfriend dropped them off,” Steve was finally looking at you, brown eyes honeycomb in the too bright lights. “Said it was a broken radiator or somethin’.”

You frowned, confused at the word that was thrown out between you. Boyfriend? But once again, before you could manage to speak, Steve was talking again, all his thoughts tumbling out at once, swimming at your feet. 

“Eddie Munson, huh? I didn’t— I didn’t know you were dating him. Or anyone. Not that it matters,” Steve sucked in a breath, like he was trying to catch each sentence, like he could swallow back the words he’d already said. “It doesn’t matter, obviously. Why would it? I mean, fuck, s’not like we share updates on our love lives or shit—” 

“Harrington.”

“—like, I don’t care if you’re dating him, I just didn’t, like, except it, you know? Munson? Didn’t think he was your type, not that I know what your type is, s’not like I think about it or anything—”

“Steve.”

The boy stopped talking, jaw snapping shut as he looked at you, a little wide eyed. He was breathing a little heavier, hands leaving his pockets only to take through his hair. 

“I don’t have a boyfriend.” You played with the keys in your hands, disco ball keychain clinking prettily between the silver. The reflections scattered, rainbow coloured freckles on Steve’s cheeks. “I’m not dating Eddie, we’re just friends.”

You weren't sure why you were explaining this.

“But Munson said—” Steve stopped mid sentence, the abruptness of it hanging in the air between you. Eddie hadn’t said you were dating. Eddie hadn’t called himself your boyfriend, had he? No. That was Steve’s doing. “Uh, he called you his girl… I just assumed…”

You snorted, eyes rolling in a way that held a lot more affection than what he was used to seeing when it was directed at him. You shrugged, dropping yourself into a chair at the table, eyeing Steve with a new sort of curiosity. He really was acting fucking weird. 

“We’re close,” you said, copying Eddie’s words from earlier without even knowing. “Best friends, you know? Nothing… nothing more.”

“Oh.” Steve’s lips were a pretty ‘o’ shape, pink and pouting and you practically saw the gears inside his head whirring. “Right.”

“He was probably just trying to be funny,” you explained, unwrapping a chocolate bar you’d taken from your bag. You bit into it, licking caramel from your lips. “He’s not though. Despite what he thinks.”

Steve nodded, looking a little dazed, but he pushed himself off of Murray’s desk and sent you another look you couldn’t really decipher. Before he made it back to the door that led to the arcade, you stopped him, an edge to your voice that wasn’t there before. 

“Did he, uh,” you winced when your voice cracked, staring at the table instead of the boy. “Did Eddie say anything else?”

Steve almost kicked the desk leg, swearing as he spun back to you, eyes darting over your face, like he was trying to work something out. He thought about Eddie’s questions. 

If Steve thought you were sweet. If Steve thought you were pretty. 

“What?”

‘You’ll catch more bees with honey than vinegar.’

“Did he say anything? You know, stupid shit.” You licked your lips again, chasing sugar, looking nervous. 

Lover boy lover boy lover boy. 

“No,” Steve lied, feeling something burn in his chest. Maybe it was the breath he was holding. “No, he didn’t say anything else.”

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut #steve harrington oneshot #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington blurb

[rip-quizilla]

The Boy is Mine (Hannah's Edition)

Thank you @carolmunson so much for coming up with this awesome prompt! I had a lot of fun writing this one :)

Click here to read the original prompt, here for the masterlist of everyone's different takes on the idea!

Word Count: 3k

Summary: Eddie's romantic night with Chrissy doesn't go as planned, so you do what any good neighbor would do and pull him out of his pity party.

Eddie was an idiot.

He had done everything he could think of to make tonight so romantic that Chrissy would finally see him as something more. See that he was worthy of a girl like her. That he could treat her right, the way a gentleman should. 

Up until now, their relationship had been casual; nothing was set in stone or exclusive. She was free to go on dates with whomever she wanted, they didn’t talk to each other at school or do boyfriend-girlfriend things. Eddie had been fine with that… until he wasn’t. 

He wanted Chrissy to know that he could treat her just as well as her country club boyfriends could. He could be romantic. He was worth more than making out in the back of his van and secret notes stuffed in lockers. 

Today was her birthday, so he’d pulled out all the stops- he’d cleaned the trailer, bought her flowers, made pasta with the fancy parmesan on top. He’d even baked her a birthday cake. Sure, it was funfetti cake mix from a box, but it was more work than Eddie usually went through for a cake. 

“Make yourself comfortable, food’s almost ready!” he gushed when Chrissy had first entered the trailer. She’d taken a seat on the couch, eyes wide as she looked around the kitchen and living room. The coffee table had been cleared of its usual magazines and ashtray, newly set with old yellowed doilies as placemats and silverware, worn porcelain plates with little powder-blue curly cues along the edges…

“Eddie,” Chrissy had said, bewildered. “What…what is all this?”

He’d barely heard her over the cacophony of sizzles and bubbles that surrounded him in the small galley kitchen. “I hope you like Italian,” he threw a smile over his shoulder as he stirred the bubbling tomato sauce on the stove. “It’s your birthday, I wanted to make you a proper dinner. Even baked you a cake!” Eddie smiled, but then widened his eyes in alarm when he remembered that he’d put the cake in the oven and forgotten to set a timer. How long had it been baking for? Eddie couldn’t remember. 

“Shit…” He hissed, yanking open the oven door as angry smoke plumed into the tiny trailer. Eddie waved an oven-mitted hand, frantically trying to clear a path for his vision to see if the cake was at least salvageable… which it wasn’t.

Chrissy sat frozen on the couch, hugging a time-tattered throw pillow to her stomach and toying anxiously with the fringe at its edges as she watched Eddie place a blackened tin of burnt cake on the stovetop. It was like watching a train wreck; Chrissy couldn’t look away, no matter how painful the scene before her got. 

“Eddie, it’s okay,” she said, voice overly soft and sweet, as if she were breaking bad news to a volatile toddler. “You don’t have to-”

“Wine!” Eddie interrupted, excitedly (desperately) remembering the wine he’d bought. He’d read somewhere that red wine paired well with spaghetti and meatballs, so he’d run to the nearest gas station he knew never carded and bought the best red wine he could afford- which was the only red wine at the gas station- but he thought the label looked pretty, so it must be good right?

"I ran out of, like, nice cups,” Eddie said, voice strained as he did a little hop to reach the matching plastic steins on the highest shelf. “Is this okay? My uncle used to be into fancy beer that was apparently too classy to drink from a can, so he got these things. Kinda makes you feel like you’re in an old-timey tavern when you drink out of ‘em, though, which is cool-"

“Eddie-”

Chrissy’s voice sounded strained, pitying- Eddie didn’t like that. It wasn’t how he wanted her to feel on her birthday. “I don’t drink wine much, so hopefully I got the right kind! I mean, wine is wine, right? Can’t be that bad-”

“Eddie!”

He froze. He turned to her, bottle in one hand and a stein in the other. His heart thumped out a warning in his chest. 

“Eddie… if I gave you any kind of false impression, I’m so sorry-”

Nope. He didn’t like where this was going.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, princess! I’m sorry I burned the cake, that was my bad- I forgot to set the timer, and-”

Chrissy winced at the pet name; he’d only used it a couple times before that, so Eddie had assumed she didn’t have a problem with it… liked it, even.

“When you asked me to come over, I didn’t realize it was…” She took a short deep breath, huffing out the exhale. “I didn’t realize you meant it as a date.”

“I know,” he replied. It was immediate, reassuring. “I know this isn’t what I usually do, and I’m sorry for that. You deserve more than… than secret makeouts after cheer practice, and lying in the back of my shitty old van.” Eddie smiled at her, hopeful. “I can do better than that, and I’m trying-”

“I don’t want better than that.” 

Eddie stopped, stunned. Chrissy winced again. “That came out… wrong. I… I mean, I do want something like that, maybe someday. But…”

Her words trailed off, lips retreating into each other as she bit them nervously, unsure of how to communicate what she meant. 

Eddie knew how though.

“...But you don’t want it with me.”

She looked up at him, eyes brimming with guilty regret. “Eddie, I’m so sorry. If I had known you felt this way-”

“No, don’t worry about it princess.” There was venom in the name now, a bitterness that rivaled the smell of burnt funfetti that still wafted around them. “No harm done. I understand.”

“I’m so sorry, Eddie-”

“Go home, Chrissy.” He turned his back to her, reaching for the knob on his stove to switch the burners off. “Seriously. It’s okay.”

The venom had left his voice; he’d channeled all of it into the word princess, and now all that was left was resignation. It wasn’t her fault for not liking him; he wasn’t even sure he’d ever liked her. He’d just known that if he could get a girl like her to like him, it might mean he was worth a damn. 

But she didn’t. So he wasn’t. Which wasn’t a surprise to him.

“Go home. Celebrate your birthday. It’s okay.”

And she did. She got in her car, brows pinched with painful sympathy, and drove back home. The spaghetti got cold and the cake was tossed in the trash, leaving Eddie with far too much pasta for himself, an unopened bottle of red, and a container of vanilla frosting. 

And then there was you.

Your trailer sat parallel to the Munsons’, a modest one-person camper on the opposite side of the dirt path the Forest Hills considered a road. You kept a plastic lawn chair and a rainbow beach umbrella in your front “yard” for days when the sun was warm enough to relax outside. Today was one of those evenings where the light was still bright enough for you to see your notebook, perfect for watching the sunset and sketching whatever caught your eye.

Today’s trailer park still-life didn’t disappoint. Your neighbor, Eddie, sat on the concrete stoop eating vanilla frosting- all by itself- with a spoon as he stared dejectedly at the horizon. Sad as the scene before you was, you loved the sketch that was taking form in your small spiral notebook of the forlorn metalhead. As if the picture couldn’t get any sadder, beside him sat an unopened bottle of cheap wine that you had every confidence he planned on drinking without a glass. Sure enough, you watched as your neighbor let out a heavy sigh, put down the frosting, and grabbed the bottle of wine. 

He started wrestling with the foil over the top of the bottle, sighing with relief this time when he finally removed the foil but groaning to himself when he saw the cork in the top. You couldn’t help but laugh when he whipped out a knife from his back pocket. 

“Please put that away,” you called over to him, closing your notebook and placing it on your seat as you stood up. “You’re going to hurt yourself!” 

Eddie glanced up, seemingly surprised you were there in the first place; he must not have even noticed you. You disappeared into your camper before he could say a word, reappearing a moment later with a wine key in hand. 

He made no move to stop you when you took the bottle, easily twisting the corkscrew into the soft stopper and leveraging it out in seconds. You smiled at the satisfying pop that echoed against the metal walls of the Munsons’ trailer. 

“Thanks.” Eddie said, accepting the wine from you with a nod. 

“You can thank me by promising you’re going to eat something more filling than frosting before you down that.” You nodded to the freshly opened bottle in his hand with an eyebrow raised.

Eddie stared back at you, his expression hard as he raised an eyebrow to meet yours. “I’ll be fine.”

Oh. You didn’t like the self-destructive undertones of that response. 

“Didn’t take you for a wine drinker.” you mused. “Let me see that label again?”

Eddie sighed, handing it to you begrudgingly. You recognized the label; it was the only cabernet you’d been able to afford in your early days of being legal drinking age. You’d never gone to college, choosing the starving artist life over classes you didn’t care about and student loans you’d be paying for over a decade. Technically, you still referred to yourself as a starving artist, but at least now you had a decent savings account and could afford a nice bordeaux now and again.

“Man, this stuff takes me back.” Eddle looked at you curiously, so you elaborated. “I used to get these constantly, it was the only wine I could afford to buy in my early twenties.”

“That can’t have been too long ago.” Eddie replied, a bit of a smile dancing on his lips. You smirked, handing him the bottle back. 

“It wasn’t,” you said wryly, “but it wasn’t yesterday either.” 

Eddie chuckled, taking a swig of the wine before immediately twisting his face with wrinkled disgust. “Oh my god,” he half gargled the words, promptly spitting the wine into the dirt beside him. “This tastes like shit!”

You laughed, taking the liberty of grabbing his bottle and taking a gulp for yourself. The taste was familiar, but certainly wasn’t pleasant. You cringed slightly and shook your head. “That would be why it’s so cheap.”

Eddie stared at you, aghast. “And you said you like that?”

“Never said I liked it, just drank a lot of it.” you giggled as the young man shook his head with his tongue hanging out, face scrunched up like a baby whose parents had handed them a lemon slice. You cocked your head, still smiling. “You know, whatever’s bothering you isn’t going to get better after a bottle of shitty wine and some frosting.”

That sobered him up quite a bit. Eddie’s gaze turned cold as he frustratedly grabbed the frosting and resumed shoveling it into his mouth. 

“Yeah, well…” he harrumphed around his heaping bite, “...beats going back in there and cleaning up the biggest disaster in the history of failed dates.” 

Your smile fell, empathy plucking at your heartstrings. “I’m sure it wasn’t as bad as you think it was.” 

So Eddie told you about Chrissy. How he had delusionally hoped he could be boyfriend material. He relayed the events of the evening to you in all their excruciating detail, and the entire time he waited for your face to mimic hers, to display the same sympathetic pinch of her eyebrows that said Oh, you poor, poor boy. How did you not see this coming? How could you have expected any outcome other than this?

But you didn’t. The only thing he saw in your eyes the entire time was understanding. 

“I’ve had my fair share of disastrous failed dates,” you sighed. “Yours is by far not the worst.”

Eddie laughed ruefully. “Oh yeah? What could be worse than a guy who misreads an entire relationship so bad that he fools himself into thinking it was even a relationship in the first place?”

“Oh don’t be like that,” you scolded him, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “That’s not even true! From what you told me, you had a relationship with this girl, even if you hadn’t officially defined it. She gave you no indication that she didn’t want a traditional, romantic relationship with you, and it wasn’t wrong in the slightest for you to want that with her. The way tonight went down sucks to say the least, but that doesn’t make it your fault. You didn’t do anything wrong here.” 

Eddie was quiet, and you were keenly aware of the rise and fall of his shoulders as he breathed. When he made no move to speak, you continued.

“For all you know, that was the first time that someone had done something so romantic for this girl. It’s possible she was so overwhelmed at your thoughtfulness that she simply didn’t know how to break it to you that she didn’t feel the same way, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t appreciate what you were trying to do for her-”

“That doesn’t make me feel any better.” he griped. 

“Well it should!” you retorted, voice rising an octave. “You showed that girl that she is worth flowers and Italian food and wine and birthday cake! So many people walk around like they don’t deserve things like that, but in reality we all deserve to know what it’s like to have someone care about us like that.” You huffed out a deep breath; you were working yourself up over this. “Now, at least that girl knows the standard that every guy should have to live up to from now on.”

Eddie’s eyes were trained on you, ignited by the passion with which you spoke about the worthiness of love that everyone apparently had. He wondered if that passion came from a place of experience, or a place of longing for the sorts of romantic gestures that he’d tried to gift to Chrissy.

“Has someone done those kinds of things for you before?”

Now it was your turn to go quiet. You looked down at your lap at the wine bottle in your hands, remembering how many failed dates had left you home alone with this exact bottle on your counter. How many works of art had come from that loneliness, and how many times those works of art had sold for just enough to pay for that week’s meals. At least something useful came from all those lonely nights.

“No,” you whispered, “that’s why this Chrissy girl is so lucky. Even if she didn’t want what you were offering her, she at least knows how it feels to be valued like that. Let’s hope she chooses not to settle for less.” You took a swig of wine as Eddie eyed you curiously. “Lord knows I settled for less a few times, and look where that got me.”

“Drinking shitty wine in a trailer park?” Eddie supplied.

You smirked at him. “Well, I could also be eating frosting with a spoon.”

Smiling wryly, Eddie looked down into the half-eaten container of frosting, then offered it to you spoon and all. You eyed it for a moment, then accepted.

You wrapped your lips around a generous bite of the sugary substance while Eddie took another crack at the wine. He cringed of course, but muscled through, sighing as he stared at your little camper across the road. 

“So does this mean I’m destined to become you? Single and doodling under a rainbow umbrella?”

Eddie’s tone held no malice; nothing but sarcasm and mock dread for his future, but you shoved him with your shoulder nonetheless. 

“Hey, now, don’t be mean.”

“Do you at least have a cat or something?” he leaned into your shoulder, lazing his weight into you like a sleepy child. “I don’t exactly want to be a crazy cat lady, but one or two cats might sweeten the deal if I’m fated to be a trailer park bachelorette.”

“If you don’t stop, we’re gonna have a problem.” You laughed through the words, pushing him off of you and handing him back the frosting container, but not without licking the spoon clean and bopping him on the forehead with it. He may have been a little too focused on your tongue as you cleaned the spoon, but you didn’t notice.

“If you must know, I do have a cat.” you said. “His name is Fibonacci.”

Eddie nodded. “I’ve seen him in your windowsill. He’s gray, right?”

“Yeah, that’s him. I have to open the windows whenever I paint because of the smell, and whenever I do he assumes his favorite spot to soak up the sun and keep watch over his domain.”

That earned you a chuckle. “His domain, huh? He own the whole park?”

“He certainly thinks he does.”

“Well, now I know who to kiss up to in case I’m ever late on rent.”

You glanced at Eddie out the side of your eye, admiring the way the light played on his curls. “Y’know, Fibonacci and I are pretty close.”

“Oh you are, huh?” he quipped. He seemed to know where this was going, and chose to play along.

“Kissing up to me is basically kissing up to him.”

“Is that so?”

You nodded sagely. “It is.”

The two of you were facing each other now, the air between you shifting from neighborly to something more. 

“And how might somebody go about kissing up to you? Hypothetically.” Eddie’s voice was a smidge deeper now, and the timbre felt warm in your ears.

“Coffee.” you replied, “At that little cafe on Kerley. They agreed to hang some of my pieces there.” Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance but eyed Eddie with contact that conveyed anything but. “Hypothetically, if someone took me there for coffee and gushed about my shitty artwork, that would definitely land them in my good graces.” You paused, then added, “And by proxy, Fibonacci’s graces.”

Eddie’s grin was blinding as he beamed. “I guarantee your artwork isn’t shitty.”

“Ah, you’re very good at this gushing thing.”

“I’m just getting started.” Eddie placed the frosting container on the stoop behind him, forgotten. He wasn’t hungry for empty calories anymore. “You free Sunday morning?”

Your smile matched Eddie’s now; you couldn’t fight it if you tried. “Pick me up at 10?”

He winced, jokingly unsure. “That’s pretty early for such a long drive to your place, but for you I’ll brave the journey.”

You giggled, standing to make that very journey back across the road. “Oh, aren’t you sweet.” 

“The sweetest.” 

And he was. Eddie picked you up on Sunday, 10 o’clock like you’d planned, with a bouquet of daisies in hand. You immediately began protesting, thanking him profusely but simultaneously insisting that he really hadn’t needed to go through the trouble-

“You remember what you told me, sweetheart?”

Sweetheart. That was enough to shut you up. 

“You said we all deserve the flowers, the home-cooked meals, the birthday cakes- right?” 

You nodded, clutching the flowers as your face began to hurt from the brilliance of your smile. 

“Well,” Eddie shrugged, “you shouldn’t settle for less.” 

#the boy is mine #eddie munson #hurt/comfort #eddie munson fanfic #eddie x reader

[brisquad-unit-4402]

Hey! I love your headcannons and stuff for njsj! Idk if i will do this request thing right but can i add like some numbers for 1 headcannon/drabble?

If i can i would like 20+23 with maybe a 18+ 12 ;) for shu and alban, idk if you want to add anyone else but i love those 2 sm so anyone with them!

Also congrats on 100 followers!!! Here's to many more to come!! You definitely deserve it !

thank you for the encouragement, i’m flattered. and yes, i’m alright with adding prompts into one entry! i couldn’t tell if 12 ;) was implying you wanted form the mature list or not, so i just went with 12 from the basic list. if you meant that you wanted mature prompt 12 let me know! kind of my fault for making both lists have numbers instead of a better way to specify mature from basic. regardless i hope you enjoy

ah... i feel like i took too long of a break from writing after stars above your skin and now i'm out of it... maybe i'll take some of my own ideas in my notes and write them in 3rd pov instead of 2nd, because i feel like my 3rd pov is getting stunted... you get that feeling after not practicing a skill for a while, right? i need to get better! i always want to get better!!

tags: established relationship, gender-neutral reader, fluff, off-collab, cuddling, sleepy kisses

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

🎭 Alban Knox

20. secret relationship + 23. off-collab

The thief leans over your shoulder as you cut, and the knife drips. Residue sticks to your hands as you draw gashes along the flesh. The smell is pungent, and the chat frenzies at the revolving massacre even though you have yet to notice your witnesses. 

Alban crinkles his nose. “You seriously cut garlic like that?”

You pouted and continue to fumble over the clove of garlic. “You said you wanted to see me cut it!”

“Okay, but I didn’t expect it to be that bad.”

“It’s going to get minced anyways, I’m just, um, preparing it!”

“Mincing is preparing it. Gimme some of that.” You pause so Alban could pick out two pieces and hold them up to the handcam. One chunk was so big that the camera could pick up the details of the center of the clove where it had been cut, and the other was miniscule in comparison. “You see this, chat? Reader’s cutting it like it’s supposed to get diced, but it’s not even in cubes. Just weird shapes.”

“Don’t shame my garlic! They can be whatever they want to be.”

“They look like they want to die. Here, let me try.”

Alban takes the knife away and chops the remaining garlic. He’s no Michelin star chef, sure, but he’s much faster than you, and with much better technique. In just a few blinks, the clove is nothing more than tiny, evenly minced pieces. 

“You’re so cool, Alban.” Your eyes practically sparkled as you focused on his work. For a moment he’s glad there isn’t a good way for your models to track on stream, because with you distracted and the chat unaware, there’s no one to see him turn his head away bashfully at the sudden praise. 

You take the knife and get started on the next clove. You still have a couple more to go. Unsteady hands try to replicate Alban as much as you can. “Is it like this?”

“It’s more like…”

Alban grasps your hand, still over the knife, and guides you along with slow motions. The clove slices apart into coins, then the knife turns and cuts into strips. Afterwards, he places one of your hands along the blunt edge while the dominant remains in the handle, and chops through the pile of garlic until there’s nothing but small, even bits. 

He retracts one of his hands, but his grip is still firm on top of the handle, above yours. You realize that even though the chat is likely freaking out over the hand holding, his arm is still bent out as if it came from beside you, and not from where he stands flush against your body. 

Then he plants his free hand along the side of your hip, drawing you closer, and your face goes hot. Even if there’s no way the camera could pick it up, you can’t help but feel exposed. You lost count of how many live viewers you have, but you can only imagine thousands of people watching your every move, and how if that camera moves even an inch, you and your boyfriend would be in danger of getting caught. 

Alban perches his head on your shoulder, coy as ever. “How’s that?”

“It’s…” You smack your lips and say the first thing on your mind before anyone can get suspicious. “Garlic.”

“Evenly cut garlic that won’t have weird cooking times,” he boasts. “Do you remember how to do it?”

Though you do have to admit, smugness is a good look on Alban, especially when he can embrace you like this. 

“Nope,” you lie. “Show me again?”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

18. wearing their clothes + 12. kissing before leaving for the day

Alban takes his coat off and on so often that there’s no real need for a coat hanger, even when he’s not wearing it. He tends to leave it draped in whichever room he took it off, and leaves it there until he wants it next. 

This morning, it’s placed along the back of a chair in your room. It’s more of a nuisance moving it than leaving it where it is, so you continue about your morning routine as you get ready for the day ahead. You walk past it time and time again as you pace around and get yourself together.

You stare at yourself in the bathroom mirror. It’s an off-day, so you plan on getting some errands done before the afternoon rush. You’ve finished everything in your routine, but you look down at your outfit. Something feels… incomplete.

Your eyes slide over to the coat hanging off the chair.

On Alban, the coat covers almost his entire frame, and on you it’s no different. It works really well with your clothes, though, and you can understand why Alban wears it religiously. The fabric doesn’t impede your movement, but weighs down on your shoulders like a heavy blanket, and feels just as comfortable and soft as one. You bury your nose into the baggy hood. Smells ambery, just like him. 

You step out of your room, still buried in the hood of his coat, and prepare the last of your things before you leave the house. As you grab your keys, you see a figure enter the room, with a fluffy bedhead and oversized sleepwear.

Alban yawns like a housecat. One eye cracks open as he does, a chocolatey brown that droops a little with drowsiness. “Good morning, Reader.”

“Good morning, Alban.” You swipe your keys into one of the coat’s many pockets with one hand, and pat Alban’s head with the other. The sleeve slides down as you reach for his messy hair. “Sleep well?”

“Mhm, really well. I didn’t want to get up at all—” He stops himself. He blinks the sleep away, then focuses on your sleeve as it rolls back down your arm, one chocolate eye and one neon taking in your appearance. “Is that my…?”

“I hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not, why would I?”

He makes grabby hands at you, and when you get close enough for him to touch, he fiddles with how the coat lays on your body, an affectionate look on his face. He finally decides on zipping it up most of the way and flips the hood over your head. It flops over your eyes. 

You reach up to readjust it, and when you regain your eyesight, you’re greeted by Alban rocking on his feet with a sweet smile. His voice is still sleepy and low, but excited. “Aww, Reader, you look so cute!”

“It’s so comfy.” You hug your sleeves and nestle into the coat, proving both your and Alban’s points. The hood flops over again, so you brush it up with one hand, resembling a cat pawing at its ear. Alban coos. “All set? I’m about to go do some errands.”

“Wait, before you go! Aren’t you forgetting something?”

He cocks his head, waiting for you to answer. Instead, you rest a hand on his shoulder and lean to meet your lips along his own. The taste is crisp and fresh, and even though you can tell he started his morning routine, Alban’s lips are slow, sleepy, and savory. 

When you part, Alban playfully bats at your hood and knocks it back over your eyes. He chuckles. “Be safe, okay? I’ll see you later today.” 

With a huff and clumsy hands, you push it back up while Alban’s sleepy smile turns into a smirk. In his hands is something you didn’t notice before: an old but cared-for leather wallet folded up in his grasp. Alban’s wallet.

“When did you get that?” You ask. You could’ve sworn he was empty-handed when he greeted you. Realization strikes you. You pat down the pockets on the bottom of the coat, where you last remember the wallet, and when those turn out empty, you search all the other small pockets along the coat. “Wait, don’t tell me.” 

“Did you think you could pull a fast one on me?” He teases. 

“No, I just—didn’t realize! Did you grab it while we were kissing? I didn’t even notice!” 

“Heh, you know me! I’m an elusive, badass phantom…” Alban trails off into a massive yawn. ”…Thief. I’m a phantom thief.”

“Sure are.” You ruffle his hair. “Cutest elusive badass out there. I’ll be back before you know it.”

“Come back faster. I’ll miss you.”

“Before you know it,” you repeat. “Besides, I’m wearing your coat. I’ve got a little bit of you with me today.”

He kisses you again, this time on your forehead where the hoodie rests. You can still sense the faded toothpaste smell. “Okay. Now get out, I need to make some coffee.”

“Screw you too.” You have a hand on the doorknob. “I’ll be home soon!”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

👟 Shu Yamino

20. secret relationship + 23. off-collab

“Okay, they should be able to hear you now.”

“Eyyyy, guys. How’s my volume?”

“Chat says you’re good, Shu. What about me?”

Shu’s streaming laptop is gingerly placed in the center of your impromptu studio. This off-collab was rather impulsive, and the only place in the vacation home with enough outlets for all the stream equipment was on the floor, so you dumped a bunch of blankets and pillows over the floor for both sound preservation and comfort.

At first the setup on the floor was scuffed. It took nearly an hour before stream to get things organized with PNGs instead of your models, and the first ten minutes were full of chat mentioning someone was too far away to hear. 

“Too quiet,” Shu says. “I think you need to get closer to the mic.”

You shuffle forward. “How about now?”

Still, the chat can’t quite understand you. Ready to readjust, you get to your feet but Shu tugs on your pant leg before you can fully rise. 

You cock your head, trying to figure out his game, but it falls into place when he lightly pats his leg. He’s sitting on a pillow with his legs folded underneath themselves, the picture of elegance without even trying. His sorcerous nature tends to make him graceful even when he’s casual, including the relaxed position during the stream. 

“I think I have an idea on how to fix it, Reader.” One pointed fingernail beckons you. “Come here.”

Curious, you scooch over inch-by-inch, closing the gap between you and Shu. That is, until Shu reaches out, scoops his hand by your shoulder, and brings you down in one fell swoop. Your body is placed along his lap, with your head resting along his thighs. 

Shu reaches for the mic across your head while you’re too caught off-guard to react, and fiddles with it while you watch his focused face and elongated muscle above you. The mic stand lowers. “Say something now, Reader?”

“Um…” 

Does he seriously expect you to stream like this? You may be dating, but this has to be unprofessional on so many levels, especially since there’s no way chat could know your position with those PNGs on screen. Is the audio okay? What happens if you bump the mic or it picks up a weird sound that clues your audience into the secret streamer relationship scandal of the year?

The paranoia is getting to you, but you can’t deny it; Shu’s lap is really comfortable. His calves fold at just the right place so that it serves as an incline for your body. 

Shu's fingers rest on your hair, and it rustles as he begins to comb through. Your heart soars.

“What was that?” He says out loud in response to nothing. He’s obviously bluffing, but he looks so at peace with his hands in your hair and the stream online. This might be his perfect element. “Reader, can you repeat that again?”

“…Right.” Screw it. If Shu is this calm, then maybe there’s nothing to fear after all. You close your eyes as Shu strokes you, and you launch into your default greeting as your role in the company. 

When Shu smiles, you can hear how his voice lifts. “Chat says it’s all good. Welcome to the stream, everybody.” His nails travel to your jawline. One finger lightly scratches along while the others prop along your face, and the action is so tender it almost feels religious. Shu watches you exhale, appreciating the moment to relax even while the stream is running, and when he continues, only one person listening can recognize how his voice clouds into cotton candy. “I have Reader with me today.”

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

18. wearing their clothes + 12. kissing before leaving for the day

Shu’s sleep schedule is, as you know, a mess, but last night was probably one of his… messier moments. He scheduled a late-night membership stream, and only hours before he went live, he made a members-only post for the waiting room. The thumbnail and title both had soju in it.

Long story short, the stream ended in the wee hours of the morning with the Yaminions happily fed and Shu satisfied, but barely able to keep his eyes open until he raided another stream. You were asleep for the majority of the stream but woke up just as his head hit the pillow, still in his daytime clothes and not a single step of his nightly routine done. You gently jostled Shu to get himself ready for bed, but the sun was rising in the sky by the time he fell asleep properly. 

The day doesn’t stop for anyone. A few hours later, you wake up well-rested and in time for your plans for the day. Shu is still sound asleep, however. He stole the covers and nestled up in the warmth while he was asleep, and you could barely see his face through untamed dark hair. Even in deep sleep and all covered up like this, he’s adorable. He doesn’t stir a bit even as you climb out of bed and get ready.

After brushing your teeth, you pass from the bathroom to the bedroom again and think on your outfit, before you see a plume of fur out of the corner of your eye.

The memories of last night—this morning?—Return as you examine the dresser, and the fur on top of it. It’s the loose black sleeves from Shu’s newer outfits, and on top of it is a large bat wing wrapped in a black-and-white fur pelt.

You take the sleeves and pelt in your hands, intending to put them away where they belong, but the fur is so inviting and cozy you don’t want to let go. You bury your face in it. It’s so fluffy! And it smells just like his everyday fragrance, subtly sweet while undeniably human. 

The sleeves are adjustable, and slide in place on your arms easily. You think to yourself. His accessories are pretty wild, but you could tone these down into something a lot more casual streetwear with your outfit today. Besides, it’s your day off and you’ll be meeting up with some friends to hang out. It wouldn’t be inappropriate.

Shu probably wouldn’t mind, either.

You slip the pelt over your shoulder and fasten the sleeves as you finish up your breakfast, just about ready to leave the house. The pelt is surprisingly light, and the bat wing conserves your heat without getting sweaty.

The last thing left to do is to grab your keys. You head over to the bedroom and find them on your nightstand. Shu is exactly where you left him, the hair in front of his face swishing along to his gentle breathing.

It parts out of his face as you reach out. Your hands stroke his hair as you examine his sleeping face. His lips are slightly open, and whenever he exhales, you can see a flash of teeth between his blanket nest. His banana rests between his ear and the pillow.

The closer you get to him, the more your smile grows. He’s… really adorable. Everything about him right now seems soft, almost cherubic. He looks like a stuffed animal. A plush cat! You have to fight the urge to squeeze him like one.

Instead, you brush some of his hair out of the way, and press a kiss to his temple.

Shu doesn’t move. He’s still as plush as ever. Even as the kiss ends, he’s so warm that you want to stay nearby. 

“Sleep well, sweetheart,” you whisper, close to his ear. “I’ll be back.”

A lock of pink hair curls under your fingers as you tuck it behind the ear. Shu’s eyes are closed, but you hear him drowsily grunt. Is he awake? “Mm-mm.”

You stifle a giggle. “You want me to stay?”

“Mm-hm.”

“But I have things to do.”

“Mm-mm.”

“I’ll stay a little longer if you wake up. Are you awake?”

Shu finally opens his mouth. “Noooo.”

“Then I’ll let you rest while I’m out.” You kiss him again. “Goodnight. Bye-bye, Shu.”

“Wait.” Shu blindly feels around with his free hand, and finds yours. He takes it, groggily but gently, guiding you closer to him even though his eyes are shut. The back of your palm goes velvet pink, and you hear a small chu as he parts. 

Then he tucks your hand in his grasp like a stuffed animal. You’re trapped. 

“Shu,” you whine. You try to wriggle out, careful not to disturb him. No avail, however. You’re stuck, and the sleeves drape along his body like even more blankets. “I have somewhere to be!”

He cuddles up to your forearm, and his head meets the fur of his pelt. “Soft.” He nuzzles closer, considering your shoulder as a suitable pillow, before fully resting his head on you.

You call his name again. It’s a really strange position for you, and besides, you have plans!

But then you look down. You don’t remember seeing that light smile on his face when you first kissed him goodbye. 

You can make five minutes for that smile. 

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

✧. ┊ event post ✧. ┊ masterpost ✧. ┊ kofi

#alban knox #alban knox x reader #shu yamino #shu yamino x reader #alban knox fluff #shu yamino fluff #nijisanji en #luxiem #noctyx #nijisanji x reader #luxiem x reader #noctyx x reader #4402 writes #100 followers for 4402 #writing this while wearing a new oversized orange and black hoodie. the longing. man #hiqhkey

[pianocat939]

Random idea, but imagine the yandere turtle ai’s, but m/c straight up has no clue who they are even talking to.

Like, Donnie finds out about the multiverse and tries to connect with other dimensions. Our dimension has a show version of them, so he easily connects with it. Imagine poor m/c, who really likes the show, just randomly coming into contact with some strangers one day. The turtles don’t mean to connect to poor m/c at first, but they get attached really quickly.

It is pretty much the self aware au, but the turtles speak to m/c through a chat system and m/c has no fricking clue it is the turtles talking to them.

M/c, texting: wow! Your user is of that character I like in ROTTMNT! Do you like that show too???

Random turtle, texting: uhhhhh, yes…?

Or, we have a scenario like this:

Donnie, texting: salutations, random individual. I have breached the multiverse and appear to have found myself in this chat with you. My name is Donatello, what is yours?

M/c, texting: wow, that is some good role play! How did you get so into character like that?

Donnie, texting: wha-

Also, m/c is royally screwed. The moment the turtles get attached, m/c can pack their bags and say goodbye. Because as soon as Donnie gets a portal going to breach into their dimension, the turtles will kidnap m/c on sight and drag them to their dimension. Poor m/c finally learned who those strangers online were.

Besides, m/c really likes them! They will live a perfectly happy life in their world with them. Except m/c isn’t ever allowed to leave.

Leo, texting: what would you do if you were to enter an alternate universe with your favorite characters?

M/c, texting: I honestly don’t know. Maybe try to talk and interact?

*portal opens, and Donnie steps out*

Donnie, with a big grin on his face: hey

M/c: holy-

Ooh! I must say I really do love the Sentient Bot Alt/AU ngl- I wouldn’t mind adding a bit more on that.

Anyway, I’ll just add a few scenarios and bits.

Tw: kidnapping(?)

Donnie was just trying to discover what talking through the multiverse was, as a scientific curiosity and nothing else.

But the first person he managed to stumble upon was- interesting to say the least. Within the first message he sent, they would reply that he talks an awful a lot like their favourite TV show- something about being ninja turtle, which isn’t entirely wrong.

He continues to talk to them, and they’re quite funny but also nice at times. Donnie would soon find himself tending to talk to them more rather than focusing on his inventions and research.

The way they talked to him with so much love and appreciation! Ugh, he couldn’t help it, it just felt so refreshing talk to someone so kind rather than his brothers’ habitual bullying-

So in secret- he changed their username to 🤍Dearest_Darling🤍. They were HIS darling, the one who loved him and comforted them! And he was going to indulge himself on their love.

Then as if he’ll broke over- his brothers found out about his messages with them. And they are not pleased to say the least.

What became his indulgence became a communist type sacrifice of sharing the love of this person from the multiverse. Instead of just Donnie, all 4 would now converse with them- and Donnie hated it.

Until one day, a message was sent to him from them.

🤍Dearest_Darling🤍: I wish I was talking to the real thing instead of an AI chatbot- it would be so much fun!

And at that moment Donnie realized that he did not seem to be a living entity to them- which saddened him. But no matter, he is willing to change it! So instead, he took the chance to bring them to his universe by constructing a portal that interrupting the usual flow of energy of the universe.

His brothers were excited too, but HE’S going to be the first one to get to interact with them.

…

Princess_Diana_3000: How would you feel if one of your favourite characters suddenly showed up right before you?

🤍Dearest_Darling🤍: That would be so cool! I would definitely talk to them for sure!

Donnie smiles, and then activates the portal- as soon as steps through he sees them, and he can’t help but stand there in shock for a second. Wow, they are real- they’re just as real as he is…

He usually isn’t one for touch, but in that moment he couldn’t help but hug them. His dearest darling was finally within his grasp! No more lonely days where he wishes he could do stuff with them, just a world of happiness.

Donnie: “Oh my! My darling, we are finally able to live a life of peace and love!”

MC: “Wha- huh? Tf?”

And then he drags you to his portal, and you find yourself at his lab, surrounded by his brothers.

Leo: “Oh my god, they’re so adorable, look at their little face~”

Mikey: “Hey do you wanna try the apple crumble I made? I told you I would let you try my cooking my divinity!”

Raph: “You NEED to see my plushie collection. Then we can snuggle!”

And then consider yourself never able to leave their dimension ever again as you are constantly cuddled with love.

#rottmnt #tmnt #yandere #yandere rottmnt #yandere x reader #rottmnt x reader #rise of the teenage mutant ninja turtles #rise of the tmnt #tmnt x reader #yandere tmnt #Tmnt 2018 #blurbs #sentient bot

[therealcocoshady]

Recovery - Chapter 14

Eminem x FemReader (Y/N) fanfiction

Summary : Em and Reader fly to NYC for a day.

Tags : Little bit of angst, FLUFF 🥰

CW : -

In the following week, you and Marshall hung out together as much as possible, whether it was to watch a movie, have dinner or simply hang out at the studio with everyone. Except for the two of you, as well as Talia and Jamal, no one knew about your argument. The others simply figured out that you were busy with uni, which was great, because you didn’t really want anyone to be involved in any type of drama. Being back as a team was great, and you were elated to have your best friend back. You were also ecstatic to go to New York with him. You had never been there and you couldn’t wait to discover the city. After all, when they visit the US, most people from Europe go to California or New York. If you were completely honest, the reason you had ended up in Michigan in the first place was because of the partnership between your former university in France and MSU, as well as the fact that Detroit was actually a cheaper place to live. And then, you stayed because you fell in love with the place and met amazing people. Ever since you had moved to Detroit, you hadn’t visited a lot of places. You were either on a budget or too busy. So when Marshall offered for you to fly to NYC with him and it matched your schedule, you saw it as an amazing opportunity. Plus, you were going to spend some time, just the two of you… and Paul. 

When Marshall told you that Paul was going to be there, you were a bit disappointed. Of course, you understood that it was his role as manager to be there whenever Marshall was going on a work trip or giving interviews, but his presence made you feel a bit uncomfortable. Ever since the pictures of the two of you exiting the party had been published in the press, Paul had made no secret of his disapproval of your presence in Marshall’s life. You got along with everyone else, from beatmakers to sound engineers, but the manager was something else. It seemed like he hated you and it was making you a little sad. Marshall shrugged it off though. The day before, you were in his closet, picking his outfits for the photoshoot when you decided to talk to him about it. 

Are you sure that me coming to New York is a great idea ? You asked. 

You don’t want to come anymore ? He asked back. 

No, of course I do, you said. But is Paul ok with me being there ? 

I don’t know. I didn’t ask for his opinion, he shrugged. 

He hates me, you sighed. 

No, he doesn’t, he chuckled. I mean, it’s Paul, he’s an ass, sometimes. It’ll be fine, though. He’s just going to be there for the interview and then, he’s having meetings of his own. He won’t even be there when we fly back. 

So it’ll be just us, then ? 

Pretty much. You, me and… well, security, he said. 

On the next day, when you boarded the private jet for the flight, Paul was already seated. He greeted you curtly. 

Are we sure it’s a good idea for her to be here ? He asked Marshall without so much as a look at you. 

Yeah, Marshall replied. I need her opinion on outfits for the shoot and she’s never been to NYC, so it works out pretty well. 

Are we working here, or are we turning into a travel agency ? Paul sighed. Seriously, Marshall, we could have worked with a stylist… 

Just relax, Marshall shrugged as he rolled his eyes. It’s no big deal. 

To you, maybe, Paul groaned. But I swear, if I have to deal with anything she does… 

Marshall didn’t even bother replying. He just sighed and sat next to you during the flight, as you both watched a movie on your iPad. Shortly before you landed, Paul decided to talk to Marshall about the day’s events, still ignoring you. 

So, the photoshoot will last about two hours and then the interview, he recalled. 

Good, Marshall said. This afternoon, I’m taking you to cool places, Y/N. You’re going to like New-York ! 

Actually, Paul said, I know you wanted your afternoon and evening free, but you’re doing a radio interview in the afternoon… 

Are you fucking serious ? Marshall groaned. That wasn’t planned. I’m not doing this. I made plans with Y/N already. 

Well, here’s the thing… They sort of announced your presence on the show already… But Y/N doesn’t mind. Do you, Y/N ? 

So, now, he was talking to you when he was trying to convince Marshall ? Great. It took you a lot of effort not to give him the biggest side-eye. 

It’s fine, you said with a forced smile. I’ll enjoy the city on my own. 

Are you sure ? Marshall asked. 

Of course. You have work to do, it’s ok, you replied. 

Plus, it’s probably for the best, Paul said. If the two of you were to be spotted together… 

Whatever, Marshall said as he rolled his eyes. 

You landed and got to the suite the magazine rented for the day, where the photoshoot and interview would take place. As you unpacked and organized the outfits that Marshall would wear, you heard him talk to Paul. 

So, are we taking questions about your relationship with Y/N for the interview ? Paul asked. 

You already know the answer, Marshall sighed. 

I’m merely asking to protect you, Marshall, the manager explained. It’s my job. 

I know, Marshall said. But my personal life, my daughters, my ex, my friends outside of the industry and any rumored girlfriends… It’s not something I’m discussing. We’ve decided on that nearly fifteen years ago, I don’t see why it would change now. 

Because the two of you were spotted together, Paul recalled, that’s why. You should know this could change everything. And as manager, I have to remind you that it’s all about the control we have over that type of thing. Plus, obviously, with everything that happened recently… people are certainly wondering. 

Why the fuck would they even care ? Marshall groaned. I make music, I’m not a fucking reality show celebrity… 

Fine, the manager said. Lucky for us, things seem to be dying down. Let’s hope this stays this way. No offense, but I have enough work as it is. 

Once they were done with their conversation, Marshall came to find you and took a look at the outfit you had chosen in his wardrobe. 

So, what did I pack with utter blind trust in you ? He mused. 

Three different outfits. One is more typical of what you usually wear for photoshoots, the two others are a little more “you”, you explained. 

Meaning ? 

Meaning you’ll look like Eminem in at least one of them, don’t worry, you said with a wink. Do you trust me ? 

I guess, he chuckled. They send us the pictures before publication beforehand anyway, so I’ll pick the pictures I like the most. 

I wonder if this is why you never smile on pictures, you chuckled. Is it because you ban them from publication ? 

No it’s not, he said with a grin. I mean, people can catch me laughing on camera and stuff, I don’t really mind that much. But most of the time, it’s because I’m not really at ease. And I’m not really myself either, you know ? 

Not really yourself ? You asked with a raised eyebrow. 

Well, if my daughters take a picture of me, I might smile, but if it’s someone I don’t know and it’s for the media… They’re taking Eminem’s picture. Not mine, he shrugged. 

Well, the two other outfits I have planned are definitely “Marshall-coded”, you chuckled. Is that ok ? 

I guess, he said with a smile. 

The team from the magazine started to arrive and set up things for the shoot. You let him change into the first outfit. It was a simple, classic one. Black jeans, black sneakers, white tee-shirt and Saint Laurent jacket, accesorized with silver chains that were on the daintier side, as well as a ring, a nice statement Rolex watch and a bracelet. When he came out of the room, he looked a bit perplexed. 

You didn’t pack any hat, he pointed out. For any of the outfits. 

That’s intentional, you said with a smirk. 

Why ? He asked. 

Because you’re getting the picture taken. The point is for people to see your face, you chuckled. 

What if I don’t like my face ? He chuckled. 

Well that’s your opinion, but your opinion is wrong, you replied with a smile. I like your face. 

Do you ?  He asked as he furrowed his eyebrows. 

Of course. 

His look softened a bit and he kissed your cheek before sitting in the makeup chair. It seemed like he knew everyone already. From what you gathered, he was used to working with this particular team of people whenever he was doing something with this magazine. He politely greeted everyone and even made small talk, though he seemed more distant. You could tell he was putting on a persona, but probably wasn’t too comfortable. You chuckled as you saw his annoyed look when the makeup artist applied makeup on his face. He noticed and instantly flipped you with a smirk. You silently watched from the side as he went in front of the camera and posed as the photographer directed. He looked good, for sure, but the whole thing felt unnatural. The person in front of you wasn’t Marshall. It was Eminem. And although it was his job, you weren’t sure you liked it too much. After all, you had never been an Eminem fan. The reason you appreciated the music was the man behind it, the real person you had befriended. You shook your head and smiled as he posed in what you assumed to be a stereotypical rapper fashion : not a smile in sight, dark expression, serious demeanor… When the set was done, he walked to you. 

I see you making fun of me, lady, he smirked. 

I would never, you said innocently. 

What’s wrong ? He asked. 

Who said there was anything wrong ? You mused. 

I know your pretty little face, he chuckled. You can’t lie to me. 

Mmmh… I’m just not used to seeing you like this, you said with a smile. But, yeah, you definitely look like a rapper. Almost like it’s your job ! 

Come on and tell me what outfit is next, he said as he grabbed your hand and led you to the bedroom. 

The second outfit consisted of the same jeans, different sneakers, another white tee-shirt (slightly less fitted) as well as his Detroit Lions jacket, with no accessories, except for a watch. You thought it would be cool for the outfit to make a nod to his passion for football. In the months you’d known him, he’d spent countless hours trying to convince you to learn more about football, though you always replied that “actual” football was soccer and that the US version didn’t make any sense. It was more simple, more him. 

I like it, he said as soon as he got dressed. 

I like it too. The blue really brings out your eyes, you replied. Especially when you’re not wearing a hat. 

You really hate my hats, don’t you ? He sighed. 

I like them, you shrugged. I just like being able to look at your face… 

The comment made him smile and he gently stroked your cheek. 

You’re the boss, after all, he said with a wink. 

Am I ? You asked cockily. I like the idea of being the boss… 

Only for today, he replied as he rolled his eyes. And only for the outfits. 

Too bad I can’t voice my opinion on makeup, you whispered. 

What’s with the makeup ? 

It’s too much, you chuckled. It’s going to clog your pores… You can’t see your actual skin underneath those layers ! 

Wait until they airbrush my face on Photoshop, he grinned. 

That would be a heinous crime, you said with a smile. 

Gotta hide those lines, he said with a wink. 

I like the lines, you said softly as you stroked his cheeks, trying to get rid of some excess of makeup that made his skin look a bit cakey. 

Do you ? He asked. 

Yup, you whispered. I really do. They’re part of your face. 

He chuckled and planted a kiss on your cheek before going back on set. For the whole duration, you looked at each other and you tried to get him to relax by making faces whenever the crew wasn’t looking. His look had softened a bit, although he still looked serious. You believed in miracles, but it would probably take a little more than that to get him to smile. You were leaning against the wall, watching him work, when the makeup artist settled next to you. 

Hard not to stare, right ? She chuckled. 

Mmmh ? You asked, as you weren’t really paying attention. 

I’m just saying… The man is really attractive, she said. I’m Jenny, by the way. I’m in charge of makeup. 

Hi, you said. I’m Y/N. I’m in charge of the clothes. 

Are you his personal stylist ? 

Just filling in, you chuckled. 

Anyway, you did a great job, she complimented. He looks really good. 

Thanks, you said, your eyes still focusing on Marshall. 

You’re going to think I’m crazy but… You look just like that girl in the magazines. The one he was spotted with, a few weeks earlier, Jenny said. 

Do I ? You asked as you feigned surprise. I wouldn’t be caught dead in that outfit, you added with a grin. 

Anyway… She’s a pretty lucky girl… I mean, I’d definitely sell a kidney to be in her place. 

You chuckled softly. You were indeed lucky. Sure, there was little truth to the story in the news, but you were definitely in luck to have Marshall in your life. However, you found yourself to be a little frustrated : ever since the two of you had rekindled your friendship, neither of you had made a move. Sure, you hugged all the time, sometimes held hands, and were overall really close. But he hadn’t mentioned the two of you “hanging out more” again. When you weren’t speaking, you mostly missed the friendship, but now that he was back in your life, you weren’t really against the idea of his kisses and his hands all over your body. In fact, you were all for it, and the memories kept you warm at night. 

When he was done with the second set of pictures, he went to change and your heart skipped a beat when he emerged from the room. This final outfit was the most basic, but it was your favorite. He was wearing black jeans that were a bit washed out and a gray hoodie, matching shoes and no accessories. You had chosen these clothes because these were the exact ones he wore the day you met. You remembered thinking he was attractive when you first saw him, but somehow, he seemed even hotter.  Everything in this outfit screamed “Marshall” in your opinion : no brands, comfy, nothing flashy, but still fitting to his style. The gray color definitely brought out his nice complexion and his eyes. He smiled as soon as he spotted you. 

What do you think, boss ? He asked. 

You look great, you said as you couldn’t smile from ear to ear. That’s my favorite look, right here. 

Is it ? He mused. 

Yeah… Definitely. Also, that’s what you were wearing when we met, you added. 

Really ? He said with a smile. And you like it ? 

Definitely ! You replied. I think it’s the look I associate with you the most. Simple and understated, but the sneakers give an edge. 

I don’t remember my outfit of that day, he chuckled. But I do remember yours. I thought you were really pretty. 

You chuckled and blushed lightly, not really knowing what to say. You were nervously playing with your sobriety pendant when you had an idea. You took it off and placed it on him. 

I think the outfit is complete now, you said with a smile. 

He chuckled and placed a kiss on your cheek before going back on set. Jenny touched up his makeup before going back to you while he posed. 

You’ve done such a great job with these outfits, she said. You know, I’ve worked with him a few times, but I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him this relaxed. 

I’m glad, you said softly. 

How is it to work for him ? She asked. Must be pretty exciting… 

It is, you chuckled. Not to make you jealous, but he is pretty great. 

God, you’re lucky, she said dreamily. 

You glanced at Marshall and noticed he was looking at you. The look on his face was soft and he was playing with the pendant in between takes. You couldn’t help but smile at him. That’s when it hit you : you were in love with Marshall Mathers. You would have expected such a realization to make you panic, but it was the contrary. You were almost overcome with joy and emotion. After all, you were lucky enough to have fallen in love with someone who had become your best friend in the past few months. And you knew for a fact that he found you attractive. In that instant, you knew you had to tell him. Oddly enough, you were more confident than ever. Last time, he had been the one to make a move by suggesting that you hung out more, so maybe the universe was letting you know that it was your turn. 

The shoot ended and Marshall walked up to you as the crew was packing their stuff, except for the journalist who was patiently waiting for the interview. You both went to the room so that you could start packing the clothes and he could get changed. He sat on the bed as he watched you pack. 

You did a great job with the outfits, he said. 

Really ? You asked with the biggest smile. 

Yeah. I like them. I felt confident, he chuckled. Doesn’t happen too much. Especially when I’m not wearing anything on my head. 

I like it better that way, you said softly. 

What’s wrong with Kangol ? 

Nothing. Come to think of it, they might be the best thing you’ve worn on your head, except for beanies…, you said. I liked your beanie era. But the durags…? 

I know, he chuckled. But, back then, it was pretty stylish… 

You’ll have to find someone else to convince, Mathers, you grinned. Aren’t you changing clothes ? 

Nope. Apparently, I look good in those, so… 

You giggled and let him take off the makeup before doing the interview. You thought about the best way to confess your feelings to him. You didn’t want to be cheesy and corny and overdo it, but you wanted to do it in the right conditions. You figured you’d wait for a moment when the two of you would be alone. When the interview was done, people vacated the room and you were left with Paul and Marshall. The plan was to have something to eat delivered in the suite for lunch and then, they would head to the radio station while you went out shopping, waiting for Marshall to be done. 

You did a good job with the interview, Marshall, Paul said. Especially dodging the questions on your personal life. 

Let’s hope it goes just as well on the radio show this afternoon, Marshall shrugged. It’s going to be live, so I can’t really make a mistake on this one. 

I already laid down the ground rules, Paul explained. I think you should be fine. So, I arranged what you asked for, for tonight and afterwards, you have your flight back to Detroit at 10 PM.. 

Are we staying that late ? You asked. 

Yup, Marshall said with a grin. I have plans for us ! I think you’re going to like it. 

Any clues ? 

It’s not funny if you guess before we get there, he chuckled. 

Now, you were definitely curious. You ate and everyone went on their way. You had a couple of hours to spare before meeting with Marshall back at the suite, so you decided to go visit the city, maybe find a couple of cool libraries and cafés. You were ecstatic to discover NYC. You had grown up watching Friends and you had always dreamed of visiting the city one day, maybe even living there. You were like the typical tourist : you took pictures of every cool building or anything remotely interesting that you saw. You also posted a few pictures on your Instagram page, that you had made public again since the rumors had seemed to die down. You would have loved to have Marshall with you, but you decided to make the most of it anyway : if he were around, you’d have security following you and it would be a whole thing. At least, if you were alone, you could just explore in peace. In true bookworm fashion, you entered the first cool-looking bookstore you saw and ended up spending way too much time there, as well as a big chunk of your paycheck. Obviously, you were a sucker for books, in whatever kind or form they came in. You didn’t even see the time, only being reminded of it when your phone buzzed. It was Marshall calling to tell you he was running a little late because of an impromptu selfie-taking session with fans waiting outside of the radio station. You told him it was ok, as you had lost track of time and weren’t too close to the hotel. 

I’ll pick you up with the car, he said. Don’t move, just text me the address of the bookstore. 

It was a blessing in disguise : you had been so reckless in your spending on books that there was no way you’d be able to carry that to the hotel. When you got to the car, your arms were full of books, almost causing you to stumble. 

Thank God we’re not flying commercial, Marshall grinned. Otherwise, you’d spend a fortune on checked luggage. 

I may have gotten a little carried away, you confessed. But this library was so cool ! There were pride flags everywhere, and they have such a great selection on intersectional feminism, like this book on bi-representation in TV shows, as well as this one on body positive issues, and there’s another one on gender identity in the era of social media…

You went on to blab about your purchases for a minute, causing him to chuckle. 

Sorry, you said as you realized you probably got carried away. That’s not really interesting… 

You’re so adorable, he said with a smile. You’re such a cute social justice warrior ! Stevie would love you ! 

Your youngest ? You asked. 

Yeah. She’s really interested in stuff about gender identity. Came out as genderfluid a while ago, actually, he explained. 

Oh. Are “she/her” her preferred pronouns ? 

Anything works, he said. To be honest, it’s making life a little easier for me. I think I'd be stupid enough to make mistakes, so… 

It’s great that you’re supportive, you said with a smile. 

Not gonna lie, I didn’t even know what non-binary and genderfluid meant before she came out to me, he chuckled. But I’m glad she felt comfortable enough to do so. I love her so much, you know ? 

This comment made your heart melt. He was definitely too sweet when it came to talking about his kids. 

Well, you can definitely recommend these books to her, then, you said with a smile. You’d score some feminist points with her. 

I could use that, he chuckled. 

You’re also welcome to borrow them from me, if you want to do some light reading, you added. 

That’s light reading ? He scoffed. Yeah… Thanks but uh… I’ll stick to comic books ! I’m not a big reader, you know ? But if I ever have to fill in a gap in a wall or prop up some furniture, I’ll definitely borrow them ! 

You chuckled and nudged him with your elbow. 

Anyway, I think my girls would really love you ! He said. 

You’ll have to introduce us, then ! So, where are you taking me ? You asked. 

Bergdorf Goodman, he said with a smile. We’re going shopping ! 

Aren’t you afraid you’ll be disturbed by fans if you’re in such a public place ? 

We’re getting the VIP suite, he said with a grin. No one will bother us. 

You opened your mouth but no sound came out. When you thought about living your TV show fantasy in NYC, that wasn’t what came to mind… But you liked shopping and looking at nice clothes as much as the next girl, so you were all for it. When you went to the VIP shopping suite, you were like a kid in a Candy shop. You were offered drinks and a sales assistant came to see Marshall immediately. 

What do you need today, Mr Mathers ? She asked in a sweet voice. 

Ask the boss, he chuckled. She’s the one in charge of my closet. 

Really ? You asked giddily. 

You did a good job styling me for the photoshoot, he said. Plus, last time I checked, our deal still stands, so you might as well choose what I buy, if you’re going to raid my closet… 

You squealed and chose the pieces you wanted the sales assistant to buy from the iPad she presented you with. You were thoroughly enjoying this shopping experience. It was unlike any other. Even when you went shopping with Cassie, it hadn’t been that fancy. Marshall tried on a few things and picked the ones he liked the most. You tried to get him to wear a little more color, but he was a bit reluctant. He also ended up picking a few pairs of sneakers to add to his collection. 

Now, my turn ? He asked with a devilish grin. 

What do you mean your turn ? You chuckled. 

You pushed me out of my comfort zone, I’m doing the same, he said with a smirk. I’m getting you to try on some stuff. 

Oh really ? You asked. Are you turning me into a rapper ? 

I could, he said with a laugh. You like my closet. You’d love it. 

I’m a girl, you pointed out.

So ? Gender is a social construct and clothing has no gender, he grinned. What ? Am I too feminist for you now ?  

Don’t get cocky, Mathers, you joked. I’d like to see you in a dress… 

Well, I’ll have you know that I have worn a few in some music videos, he said with a smirk. I played my own characters. 

You did ?! You exclamed. 

He used the iPad to get on YouTube and show you excerpts from music videos. He was, indeed, wearing dresses, as well as wigs and makeup. You were a bit shocked. 

You’re basically a drag queen, you shrieked. That’s so awesome !!! You need to do that again ! 

I don’t know about that, he chuckled. I got over it, you know ? Plus, with the beard, it’s just not the same. 

I’d like to see that, though, you grinned. Look at you, deconstructing gender ! 

He chuckled and looked proud of himself. It seemed to remind him of fun times. However, he did not lose track of his goal and picked items for you to try on. A far cry from your usual style, definitely more street-wear. On the rack that the sales assistant brought for you, you spotted a jacket similar to the one you had borrowed from him, that you loved so much. 

They have a women’s version, he said with a smile. I thought you might enjoy it. 

Oh my God, you said. It’s so beautiful !!! 

Try it on, he said. 

It fit like a glove. It was absolutely gorgeous. The fit was better than the one you got from him, seeing as it was tailored for a woman’s body. 

What do you think ? He asked. 

I love it, you shrieked. 

Good, he chuckled. Now, try the rest. 

He had picked out some great clothes, namely jeans, hoodies, chains and, of course, Jordan sneakers. He had you dressed from head to toe in a typical Eminem outfit. You were feeling a bit ridiculous, but you did enjoy the jacket and the sneakers. 

I’m getting those for you, he said. 

You’re not, you replied as you shook your head. 

Come on ! Let me have fun ! He pleaded. 

It’s too much, Marshall. 

Please ? He asked. That’ll be your salary. If I’d hired a stylist, I would have paid them. 

You already got me on the flight, you pointed out. 

Whatever. I’m getting these for you or you’re going back to Michigan on foot, carrying those huge books by yourself, he said. 

Fine. Thank you. You’re the best, you said before hugging him. 

You ended up spending quite a bit of time in the store, but you had a lot of fun. You also ended up treating yourself to a nice handbag, to congratulate yourself for remaining sober for a whole month. It was fancy and definitely one of your biggest purchases ever, but you felt like it and could easily afford it, since you were saving a lot of money on rent thanks to Talia and Jamal’s refusal to let you contribute. When you exited the store, your chauffeur was waiting to take you to another destination. 

Where are we going now ? You asked giddily, having the time of your life. 

I would have loved to take you to some touristic places, but I’m afraid it’s going to be complicated if we don’t want to be bothered, he said. But I’m taking you to a really iconic monument in New York. 

After a bit of driving, the car parked in front of the Empire State Building. You were a bit flabbergasted.

Isn’t this place supposed to be highly touristic ? You wondered. Plus, it’s nighttime, so it’s probably closed…

Well, yeah… Except that I know someone who knows someone and I got us dinner in a private room on the highest floor, he chuckled. That way, you will be able to admire the city ! 

You immediately jumped in his arms. 

You’re the best. Seriously, you have no idea… I always dreamed of coming here, when I was a teen and completely broke ! I could cry right now, you said. 

Don’t, he chuckled. Let’s go ! 

You entered the building, escorted by security, and took the elevator to the highest floor. A nice table was waiting for the two of you. The view was absolutely mesmerizing. The city lights were glowing. It was like a dream come true. You jumped in his arms and he made you twirl. You couldn’t believe you were feeling like such a princess. If it wasn’t for the presence of waiters and security, you would have made your move and kissed him. Instead, you just hugged him. 

You’re the greatest, you whispered. 

Happy one month sober, he chuckled. I’m so proud of you, Y/N. 

A waitress came and handed you flutes. You were about to refuse when Marshall stopped you. 

It’s sparkling non-alcoholic wine. And it’s from France, he explained with a smile. Shortly after we met, I remember you telling me you missed French wines, so… 

You’re amazing ! 

He kissed your temple and you toasted to your sobriety. In that moment, you felt good in his presence, and you couldn’t help but think that this man was single-handedly ruining any other men’s chances of ever impressing you. He was just the best at making gestures. You also had a nice dinner and enjoyed the view a little more before going to the airport and boarding the plane. You were both tired on the flight home, and you were about to fall asleep in your seats when the aircraft began shaking. Marshall immediately took you in his arms and you held each other as the captain informed you that it was turbulence. You knew they might not be a big deal, according to the science behind it, but your brain was freaking out. Neither Marshall nor the security people seemed too relaxed either, mind you. Eventually, though, you landed and you couldn’t be happier to be home. As you exited the plane, Marshall got a phone call and you waited for him on the tarmac. He came to you about ten minutes later. 

Is there anything wrong ? You asked as you were wondering why someone would call at almost midnight. 

Oh, that was nothing, he said. It was Nicole, she just got off her shift. 

Nicole…? You asked, not really knowing who he was referring to. 

Yeah, the nurse you met in the ER the other day, he said. I mean, you probably don’t remember, with the painkillers and stuff…

No, no, I know who she is, you said, still not really getting it. Is there anything wrong ? 

No, nothing, he said. She was calling me to confirm our date night tomorrow. 

You looked at him in shock. At that moment, you felt something break inside of you. The plane might not have crashed to the ground, but your heart definitely had.

#eminem #marshall mathers #slim shady #eminem fanfiction #eminem x reader #eminem fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers x reader #marshall mathers imagine #marshall mathers headcanons #recovery fanfiction

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 27

ATTACKED

Continuation of day 17: THE CATCH → for greysandmarvelfan & mlgx on AO3

WARNING!!! contains rape/non-consensual elements. (yes, i live for angst and venting what fucks with me through my writing, this isn't new, and we should shut up and move on ok? k great)

“Holy shit, it’s that psycho girl!”

“That’s her?”

Overlapping comments and laughter burned Sam’s ears as she led the way out of the frat party. Her heart still thumped like it never broke from its adrenaline-induced fit that had come with beating the ever-loving shit out of Frankie. She could feel the eyes of the partygoers studying her like she was a feral, stray dog being walked out of civilization by Animal Control. No matter how close the voices to her were or how deep each word was, Tara’s desperate voice overpowered them all. It was her voice blending in and out of another voice that was even more familiar… her own. 

And the thought of what could’ve been with one and what was with the other made her entire being run hot. Very hot, the touch on her back letting her know she was backed by the Meeks-Martin twins actually feeling cool.

She broke out of orange and purple lighting into the crisp outdoors. Moonlight was considered fraud amongst the lively streets of New York, but she didn’t need any source of it to find her way to her baby sister.

She should’ve known better. She should’ve known that Tara would go to the OKB party anyway. She was impulsive and sick of being chained to the apartment, outside of going to her college classes. Sam had begged her—begged her—not to go. 

And Sam never begged. Only for Tara, did she ever. 

This was why. She couldn’t trust anyone, especially after Richie’s betrayal and her secret about being Billy Loomis’ daughter getting out. Either she was the wolf in sheep’s clothing or someone else was. She thought Tara would feel the same, having her own best friend for years betraying her over the orchestration of a fucking requel. If that didn’t destroy Tara’s trust, what would?

But it didn’t matter. Tara was nearly raped at that party, and as much as it was her own fault for getting herself into that situation, Sam took just as much blame. Had she not been in therapy, Tara would’ve never had the chance to make it out the door of their apartment.

There wasn’t much of a breeze to tame the invisible fire burning beneath her skin as she followed Chad, who’d passed her and his sister up with his longer strides. It was then that she started running.

She couldn’t get Tara’s voice out of her head, and every time she replayed it, her vision turned everything in sight into a more distinct shade of red. Until it was blood red. Like the blood that painted Frankie’s face. Like the blood left on her hands. Like the blood still smeared on her lips. Like the blood lingering at the back of her throat. 

Like the blood that was once shed in a similar situation, at a similar time, but with an opposite outcome.

Having Tara scream her name, be trapped beneath a repulsive human being, and barely escaping what would’ve become another tragedy she’d have to recover from was only half of the battle that nearly had Samantha losing it all. 

She should’ve known better.

Because when she was 20, she had been exactly where Tara had been…

—

(flashback / Sam's past inspired by Tanto Amor: Chapter 62 (14:58 - 17:16))

She hadn’t wanted to get caught up in any of this. She’d been a rebel, on the run, and so good at getting herself in and out of suspicious situations, anyone could code her Houdini. But she did not favor Halloween in the slightest. She didn’t like the idea of people hiding themselves behind masks, costumes, and hours of make-up, so no one knew who they were. They all became characters rather than real-life identities, and with that advantage, came a thousand things they could get away with.

All it took were 2 girls who’d befriended her for a few days. They’d begged her to come to this stupid party. They told her she didn’t have to dress up, just come for a good time that would allow her to cut loose. She cut loose more than she let on but always did it on her own terms. No one was going to bark orders at her like her mother had done. No one was going to pin her down and handle her however they pleased.

Until someone did… 

And those 2 girls she thought would look out for her didn’t. They didn’t care. They just knew her standoffish personality and impressive beauty would model a perfect bone for a dog to go chase.

She wound up in the garage, encouraged to go fetch more drinks. And she did it for the sole reason that she could get away from the noise and crowd for a moment. What she didn’t know was that doing so would curse this night into becoming the 2nd worst night of her life, after the night her father walked out on everything their family once had all because of what she did.

She leaned against a long, wooden shelf that was bolted against the wall, holding her head with her fingertips on either side of her temples. Having a drink on a mostly-empty stomach was a stupid mistake, even if she had only taken a few sips. She applied pressure, trying to ease the throbbing pain if she could. 

She just wanted to go home, wherever the hell home was going to be for the night.

Behind her, the door opened, making her pick up her head to look over her shoulder. Her heart skipped a beat. She knew it was a man. He was in all black with the exception of a clown mask covering his entire face. It was white, a tri-brid of yellow, blue, and red paint distinguishing different designs as facial features. Complimenting that were three red horns coming out either side of his face and one at the top of his head. 

He stared at her the whole time, keeping her eyes that did the same. He shut the door and locked it, leaving her to drop her gaze to confirm before looking back up.

Sam instantly felt sick to her stomach, the worst feeling imaginable flooding through her just by laying eyes on him. And it wasn’t because he was in a haunting clown mask. It screamed at her to run, even though there was nowhere to run. As much as she wanted to look away in order to find some form of defense, she couldn’t. Her heart seemed to thump her chest hollow as he began to slowly walk towards her.

She bit back a whimper and replaced it with, “What are you doing?”

He didn’t say a word, just kept coming towards her. That was all she needed to know to figure if she was going to get out, she wasn’t giving him a second chance to speak. He looked hungry for lust. She was young, but she’d been around long enough to know that look anywhere.

She tried to move aside to walk around him, but he did the same and blocked her. She moved the other way, and so did he. So, she did what her instincts were telling her to do. She tried to run.

But he caught her, grabbing her arms and pulling her in, earning a yelp.

Sam felt one arm wrap around her waist, while the other lassoed her shoulder blades, making her grab onto him to get a grip on her stability. But that only lasted for a fleeting second, for he was trying to knock her off balance.

This was when full-blown panic set in, and her rationality was no longer her own. “No! Stop!” She retreated her arm that gripped his shoulder to push away from him. But it was to no avail. 

And still, he said nothing, just fought with her.

“Stop it!” She felt his hold grow stronger around her thrashing. “No-ho!”

Yet, no matter what she did, he handled it better, leaving her struggling whines and whimpers echoing off the walls of the garage.

“No, no!” She began to cry without even realizing it, gripping onto his clothes to avoid falling but still resisting him, nonetheless. 

He caught her around the waist, low enough to tilt her at an angle she had to submit to. The grip he held on her arm was promised to leave a bruise as he lowered her to the ground.

Carpenter tried to brace herself in protest, but she couldn’t, which left her spitting out the only words that she could even process. “Please! No, noooo!” her voice pitched into a squeal as he got her pinned on the floor. 

He straddled her churning legs in the process, leaving him battling for control of her arms.

The burning in her chest and inescapable hurricane running her auto-pilot a million miles per second kept her from putting up the fight she might’ve been able to with a leveled head. She tried to push against him, realizing he was trying to get her wrists above her head. Tears fell from her eyes as she begged him, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, please…” Her muscles burned out, leaving him to have his way, yet again. “Ple-hease! Don’t do this!”

But he couldn’t care less. He just wanted what he wanted, still refusing to say a word or spare any hint of vocalization. With her wrists secured in one hand, he began to feel down her flank, squeezing at the curve in her hips and filing his fingers to her beltline, where he found the button to her jeans.

“No, no— No-hoo! Nooo!” She tried to buck, to kick, to twist. Nothing worked. “Let me go-hoo!” There was only one other hope she had left. “Heeelp! Help me, pleee-hease!” She knew they were people by the garage door and outside too. Someone had to hear her…

Right?

The man had gotten her jeans undone and moved to clutch the collar of her shirt, trying to tug it down, but not missing the chance to rub his hand against her breast in the process.

This just made her panic even more. “Somebody, please!” she cried, “He-heelp!” She pulled her knee up to make another attempt at kneeing him off. “Get o-hoff of me— Nooo!” By now, she was beginning to sob, which made her words struggle to come out clearly. Her next attempt to shout was replaced by a desperate cry. Even with her arms pinned, she still tried to pull them down. 

But then he stopped feeling up and down her body and raised his fist.

She knew what that meant, and as much as she didn’t want to live what would happen next, she couldn’t let herself lose consciousness. “No, no, please! Please, don’t!”

It came down hard and fast.

Pain blasted through the side of her head, and then her whole world went black.

The next morning, she woke up and couldn’t remember a thing… She could smell blood dripping out of her nose. She sat up, confused on where she was or how she’d gotten there. But then she saw her pants down to her knees and her underwear in an awkward straddle around her thighs. Then, the pain hit her head and privates all at once.

And then she knew. She remembered it all… And she broke down into tears of disbelief, shock, and horror.

The worst thing about it was… they heard her. The people at the party the night before… they knew.

It was just that no one cared.

—

All of the rage and merciless sanctions that had fueled her for the last however-many minutes vanished the second she caught sight of her baby sister hugging her knees and crying on a bench. It was like they were back in the ages of 6 and 11, Sam about to be scolded by her mother for not watching Tara and keeping her out of danger, like she was supposed to.

It was her responsibility. 

She had a responsibility to Tara, to love her and protect her, the same as she’s always had. She didn’t ask to be an older sister, but she didn’t have to. It was built-in. It had been since the dawn of Tara’s time—to watch over her throughout her life, to bark when she was in danger or lunge when she couldn’t outrun that danger, to run and play with her when she was happy, to hold her close when she was lonely, to wipe her tears when she cried or make her laugh when she was about to cry. 

That’s why she was called a big sister. That’s why Tara had called her Sammy. That’s why she was still a Carpenter rather than a Loomis.

She knelt down next to Tara, wanting to place a comforting hand on her leg or touch her in some way, like she always used to do. But she knew she couldn’t… Not right now anyway. “Tara?”

Before Tara could respond, Anika interjected, “We got her asthma under control. She’s just still really shaken up.”

Both, Mindy and Chad, gave the sisters space as they moved over to where Anika was standing with Ethan, who had ditched the party when they were trying to get Tara out of the house.

Sam didn’t look away from her little sister. “Tara…” Her voice had lost all of its darkness and animalistic traces, leaving nothing but concern and softness.

She was shaking. Her baby girl was trembling uncontrollably, and it wasn’t because of the crying. She slowly lifted her face from being buried in her knees to reveal glossy eyes that held regret, hurt, and fear. There was no resentment, annoyance, or rebellion. Just a longing that pleaded for comfort. For rescue. “S-Sam…” Her voice was quiet and delicate, close to breaking with the quivering of her lips.

“I’m here,” she assured her, reaching her hand up to gently caress her shoulder. “I’m here, Tara.” She could feel her own emotions start to get the best of her, but until she certified her sister’s safety, she’d hold them all at bay.

“Sam,” Tara choked out, “You were right…” She had to take a moment to keep herself from drowning in more tears, her breath hitching as she sucked in some air. “I-I never should’ve g-gone…” Then her face creased, and she broke down. “I-hi’m so so-horry!”

But her big sister shook her head, “No, no, no, love, it’s not your fault.” She moved up onto the bench as Tara dropped her legs, showing that she wanted to be held. And Sam did, pulling her in against her chest and feeling her trembling arms wrap around her waist. She shushed her quietly as the younger began to whimper in between small sobs. “It’s not your fault. I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry for not getting there sooner. I’m sorry for choosing therapy over making sure to keep you home tonight. Don’t you ever apologize for what someone else did to you. You did nothing wrong, Tara.” She promised her all of this through a blurry lens of her own tears. Her voice dropped to a whisper after placing a loving kiss on Tara's head, “Nothing wrong at all…”

Tara clung to Sam’s waist, holding her tight as if someone was going to try to take her away. Maybe in another world, she’d have been stopped by Mindy, Anika, or Chad from following Frankie up those stairs. Maybe in another world, Sam would’ve showed up, and she would’ve been completely embarrassed. Maybe in another world, instead of sitting on this bench, they’d be standing-off in the street, shouting about where they’ve been and where they planned to go—how one was able to move on and the other was still stuck.

Maybe in another world, she’d have told Sam that she had to let her go…

Not tonight, though. Tonight, she wanted Sam to hold onto her forever.

“Thank you for coming, Sammy,” she whispered, hugging her tighter. And she felt her head be kissed again, while a comforting hand rubbed her back, the bowing of her guardian angel’s head leaving her long, black hair to shield her face from the rest of the world. She was safe in Sammy’s embrace.

And Sammy replied. 

“Always.”

i don't know whether to apologize for writing this THIS way or not, but i'm sorry??

special thx to @doctorwhoarchive for chatting with me about Tanto Amor (yes, u told me i had a while to go before reaching this part in the show, but there were 3 problems: 1) i'm too curious for my own good 2) i piss myself off for no fucking reason, and 3) i have access to YouTube so I WENT TO FUCKING FIND IT BC STUPID FUCKING ME and so here we are) i don't blame u tho, dw! much love 🩶

All my best ♡ - parker

#scream #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #ethan landry #scream v #scream vi #tanto amor #ao3 #ao3 writer #ao3 author #ao3 fanfic #scream fanfic #30 day writing challenge #attacked #AU: Same As It Never Was #possibly #AU: The Way I Am #sam carpenter's pov at least

[lovetohate001]

hear me out 001 x reader your brenners daughter and at first 001 wants to manipulate you then kill you to get back at papa but ends up falling for you

All is Fair in Love and War

Peter Ballard x Brenner’s Daughter! ORIGINAL CHARACTER

CW: Spoilers for Season 4 ahead | R-rated for violence (shock treatment) & language

Word count: 1.8k

© lovetohate001, 2022. reposting/translating is not allowed.

 When you were young, you had no idea what your father did for a living. While other kids got to brag about their parents being doctors and teachers, you were always told to say that what he did was “a secret”. And you could never figure it out, no matter how many times you asked your mother or pestered your father. But you definitely found out later. And it fell onto your doorstep, quite literally.

“Papa!”

You couldn’t have heard that right. From upstairs, in your room, you looked up from your homework. Was that a child?

Another rumble of thunder rattled your windows. This weather was dreadful. Especially with summer break right around the corner.

“Papa!” the shout was louder this time.

“I’m in here, Eleven. You know Papa won’t go anywhere,” you heard your father say.

What the fuck?

You made your way downstairs and went to the kitchen, following the hushed voices of your parents.

“Martin, you can’t bring this child in here without telling me first. Christine is-“

“Mom…Dad…?” you peeked your head in and immediately decided to step into view. “Who is this?”

“Oh…Christine. I didn’t realize you were home from school yet. It’s a bit early, isn’t it?”

“Hockey practice got cancelled today, with the bad weather and all,” you shrugged, kicking your shoe against the back of your other.  “So…who’s the kid?”

“Christine,” your father went up to the small girl and put a hand on her shoulder, “I’d like you to meet Eleven.”

That had been ten years ago. Now, at the age of twenty-eight, you were a full-time helper at Hawkin’s Laboratory. Like you really had any other choice after meeting Eleven.

“You’re a bit out of it today,” Peter pointed out, looking up at you from his place on the floor.

The two of you were on Rainbow Room duty today, and Peter was busy with 003, trying to help him influence his emotions. It didn’t seem to be working. Peter was his same serene self as he always was. 003 had been trying to force him to feel anger for a while now, with little success.

“Just a bit tired, is all,” you brushed him off and sat down alongside him. “It’s been a long week. Especially since 011 hasn’t made much improvement over the last few days.”

“Hmm…” Peter nodded and focused back on 003. “You’ve done well for today. Go get some rest with the other children, won’t you?”

003 nodded silently and got up, wiping his nose. The children here got nosebleeds often. You still couldn’t really find a remedy. The only thing you could give them was rest and reassurance.

“Do you want to go get some air for a while?” Peter offered you a hand as he stood up.

“Sure,” you took his hand gratefully and allowed him to pull you up. “Maybe the breakroom out back?”

The breakroom wasn’t as impressive as your father’s private office at the other end of the Lab, but being out in the sun did you good.

“Sometimes I wish I could get away from here,” you sighed, looking up at the sky.

Peter smiled and shook his head. “There really is no use in wishing away the time, when there isn’t much else out there.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well…” he shifted and sat up against the wall, resting the back of his head on the cool brick, “If you look at it from another perspective, we’re exactly where we need to be. You’re working for your father, helping children harness gifts that others can only dream about. I think that’s more than enough.”

“And what about you? You’ve been here since I started. Don’t you miss the life you had before all of this?” you waved your hand in front of you, gesturing to the courtyard.

“No. Not at all,” he said shortly, voice a little more resigned. “I didn’t have the best life before coming here. Your father saved me in a way. Gave me a second chance.”

“In that case,” you reached your hand over and squeezed his hand, “I am glad you’re here now.”

His eyes widened a little at the gesture. He hadn’t expected you to do that at all. Especially since you two had done nothing but work together. Albeit as a team, almost inseparable most of the time, but still…this feeling was something new.

The hours crept along slower than usual for the rest of the day. You had been sent to the afternoon training room to oversee 002, 004 and 006’s progress, while Peter was sent for by your father.

“You’ve been doing well, 001,” was the greeting Peter received as he stepped into Doctor Brenner’s office.

Compared to the rest of the facility, this office was in stark contrast, with the mahogany desk and portrait on the wall behind him, of the ocean, tumultuous with a storm and a near capsizing ship. Doctor Brenner set his glasses on the table and leaned back in his chair.

“Thank you,” was all he replied with, his eyes steadily meeting Brenner’s. “That’s the most I can do here, since you were so keen to take away my own abilities. I can only hope to help children here to better themselves in the meantime.”

‘In the meantime?” Doctor Brenner chuckled. “My boy, as long as that little chip is in your neck, you won’t be harnessing your own gifts anytime soon. And you certainly won’t be making any advances on my daughter either.”

“Christine?” Peter frowned. “What have I done to give you any inclination that I have an interest in your daughter?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, Peter. I’ve known you since you were a child,” Brenner snapped. “And I know you haven’t been spending more time with her here by coincidence. You’ve been following her around like a damned shadow. And I called you in to warn you.”

“If you,” Brenner pointed at him, “decide to use my daughter to get out of here with those sick mind games of yours, then I will have you killed.”

“You have no proof,” Peter said quietly.

What was this feeling? Squeezing against his chest. His heart hurt. He couldn’t breathe. But why? Why now? When he had tried so hard to get close to you to be free. To free the both of you.

“You being here is proof enough 001.” Brenner’s words cut through him like ice. “You are a monster. And nothing and no one will ever change that. You belong to me.”

Peter swallowed thickly and looked up, forcing himself to fix his gaze steadily on Brenner.

“I can assure you, sir, that I have no such intentions. Without my power, you know I am nothing. And I never will be anything as long as I am in this facility. And I know very well that you will kill me if you deem it fit to do so. So, answer me this question: why would I rebel against the man who will pull the trigger?”

“I’m glad we have an understanding. You are dismissed.”

Peter was escorted out by two of the other helpers. They all changed shifts and stayed so shortly on shift that he didn’t recognize their faces. They took him by the arms and forcefully steered him down the hall, into the room around the corner. Shock treatment was the only thing Brenner could prescribe to make sure 001 knew his place.

The currents washed over him in such strong and painful waves that he bit down hard enough on his lips to cause blood to trickle down his chin. And no matter how much higher the voltage went, he refused to scream, and willed that part of him you had brought to life again to die and bury itself away where it had once laid dormant.

Peter allowed the darkness to swallow him whole.

When you came in the next day, Peter hadn’t shown up the entire morning. Angela, one of the night nurses, had passed you on her way out and told you that he was in the infirmary.

You’d rushed down the halls and practically burst into his room. And there he was, asleep in a bed on the far end of the hall. Two children, 004 and 009, looked up as you came in, curious.

“Peter?” you slowly went up to him, eyes widening as you noticed the red marks covering his face. Were those burns? No…

“Peter.” You fell to your knees by his bed and clasped his hand tightly. His fingers were ice cold.

Your father had done this. And you knew it. He’d seen the way you had grown closer to him. After all these years, he had noticed that spark that lingered between the two of you. And he’d wanted it put out in the only way possible: by threatening him.

For the first time in your life, you held his hand as tightly as you would allow yourself to. You pressed his hand to your heart and sobbed. You didn’t care who was looking, or noticing.

“Christine…?”

You sniffed and tried to give Peter a watery smile. “It’s alright. I’m right here.”

Blue shadows bloomed under his eyes and he sat up slowly, trying to shake off the headache pounding through his skull.

“Peter…” you started.

“No. Don’t ask me anything.” He looked down at his hand, which you still held onto tightly.

“I’ll stay here then,” you replied stubbornly, squeezing his hand tighter in yours.

“Why me?” he asked, blue eyes meeting yours. “Why did you choose to love me?”

“Because you are kind.”

His heart stuttered.

“I am not kind.”

“Maybe not. But to me, you are.”

“You’re special,” Peter tried.

He had no idea how to explain himself. He was trapped. And he wanted to kill you and your father to get out. To be free. But that was a long time ago. When the two of you had been children. Now he wanted to get out of here. With you by his side. If he had to kill everyone else here except you, then so be it. But he couldn’t stay here. He couldn’t be-

“Peter?”

“Sorry. I can’t seem to focus on much right now.”

“I’m not letting him hurt you again,” you said gently. “Even if it means disagreeing with my father.”

He knew it would be more than a disagreement. To end all of this. But he would do this another day. Kill everyone another day. For now, he would rest. And keep you close to his side. Until he could find a way to get this chip out. Until he could finally be free. With you by his side. You would do this together.

And for once in his miserable life, Peter felt human. He felt love. And he knew it was all because of you. and he would never let that small bit of humanity you gave him slip away so easily. Not again. All was fair in love and war. Even if it meant he needed a few more deaths to get there.

A/N: I enjoyed writing this more than i should have! I hope you loved it too. I have a soft spot for soft Peter who actually has a heart. even if he is a mass killer with psychotic tendencies.

 If you enjoyed this, consider leaving a like, comment and reblog! you can also send a 001/vecna/peter ballard ask down below! check out more of my works too if you feel in the mood for some light reading!

MASTERLIST

SEND A FIC REQUEST/ASK HERE! 

#stranger things #001 x reader #stranger things 001 #peter ballard fanfic #peter ballard stranger things #stranger things season 4 #001 stranger things #stranger things imagine #peter ballard smut #peter ballard #001 imagine #001 x oc #vecna's curse #vecna stranger things #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction

[jilyarchive]

APRIL AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: ARIANATWYCROSS

Q: Where can we find you and your stories?

A: @arianatwycross​, AO3

Q: How would you describe your writing style?

A: I really couldn’t tell you! It really depends on how I’m feeling. I suppose you could say I love dialogue and you can definitely find a lot of sexual tension or flirting in my fics. 

Q: How do you come up with ideas for your writing?

A: A lot of the time it's through songs e.g. Teenage Kicks, but I also read quite a lot, so I get inspiration from books. For example, sometimes when I’m reading, I find a certain line I love and then that prompts an entire storyline in my head. Sometimes it’s just a feeling or a moment. With you are the sun, I was pining for hot summer Australian days (it was depressingly winter) and I had just finished reading Conversations with Friends. There’s this one scene where he uses a beer bottle to cool her down and I couldn’t help but write that scene with Jily. The prompt then rolled into a three-part story with a lot of sweaty, humid, hot synonyms. 

Q: When and why did you begin writing fanfiction?

A: I think I started in 2021 during COVID. COVID got me back to a lot of my hobbies that I dropped for a while. I started listening to music again, reading a lot more, and going for a lot of walks (in which I ended up just making up stories in my head). My friend sent me some fanfic to read (I think it was a Fred Wesley fic haha) and then I got back onto Tumblr and stumbled onto the love of our lives, Jily ❤️‍

Q: What’s one thing you’d tell someone who is considering reading one of your fics?

A: Prepare for a lot of flirty fluff and smut ;) 

Q: What are some of your favorite Jily tropes?

A: Friends to lovers, secret relationships, idiots in love - anything that makes them look like idiots that love each other to be honest! 

Q: What do you like most about the Jily fandom?

A: How diverse it is! You can literally have a thirst for any type of trope and find it, and the quality of writing is chef’s kiss! Most importantly, everyone I’ve talked to has also been really sweet and supportive, which is the backbone of this fandom.

Q: Pick a favourite Marauders era character.

A: Apart from James and Lily, I love Sirius Black - he’s such a complex character. I suppose as a fandom, he’s one of the only Marauders that we know enough about to establish his personality but I still feel like there’s so many complexities behind how he treated Harry and his time in azkaban. I would LOVE to really know his relationship with Lily as well. 

Q: Self-promo time! List the fics that you are most proud of writing.

A:

Teenage Kicks – It all starts with Lily being hired to be the bands tour photographer, then she actually meets the band and she quickly becomes absorbed by their fast lifestyle, their pranks and the hot lead singer. But its not exactly simple to be crushing on a famous Rockstar, is it?

Strawberry Lipstick – After spending her 6th year in a state of depression after her mothers death and her sister’s rejection, Lily finds herself changing into the person she thought she wanted to be over the summer before her last year at Hogwarts. Coming back to Hogwarts as Head girl, Lily shocks James as she walks onto the train with a sense of confidence she hadn't had in years. Her head held high, and a devilish smirk that makes James shiver. (Probably needs a desperate edit as this was my first foray into writing my own fanfiction but it’s my first so there’s a deep love for it!)

you are the sun – She feels someone brush a piece of her hair behind her ear, a flyaway from her messy ponytail. She turns to her side to find Daniel smiling sweetly at her, he leans over to grab his beer from the table before lounging back in his chair. She stares dumbly for a few seconds, before her eyes hesitantly reach the man opposite her. James is staring openly at her, one eyebrow raised in question. She tries her best to stop a smile gracing her lips but she loses miserably. 

Q: Fic rec time! Could you recommend a few of your favourite Jily fics?

A:

Everlong by @emeralddoeadeer​ – The intricacies of this story really suck you in and oh my, I fell in love straight away.

The Reckless Now by @mppmaraudergirl​ – A love square that had me on my toes! 

Choose Your Own (sexy) Adventure by @ghostofbambifanfiction​​ – The dialogue in this is unmatched and it’s all through email/texting - unparalleled humour. 

Thank you @arianatwycross​ for letting us pick your brain and for sharing your fics with the fandom! ❤️

#arianatwycross #april author spotlight #author spotlight #next randomised choice from the most recent 20 fics will be made some time this week #so if you want to be may's author spotlight now might be the time to post your fics :) #thanks again!! #lovely to see some lily/sirius friendship love too

[gunilslaugh]

hi!! i just wanna say that i absolutely love all your writing and i get so excited whenever i see that you've posted <33 this is my first time requesting, and i had this idea that i couldn't get out of my head lmao so could you do a one shot where gaon is spiderman and the reader is his best friend, but they don't know that he's spiderman and he's trying to keep it a secret from them. but then at some point they find out and it's this cute thing of like not seeing him any different and joking around about it n stuff, also maybe before they find out they could be like simping over spiderman obvi not knowing that it's gaon and he's just there like "🕴"

thank you!!

Aww thank you that's sweet <3 I hope you enjoy reading Spiderman Jiseok lol.

Kwak Jiseok

Summary: Jiseok is keeping a secret from you, he’s Spiderman

WC:~1.6k

Warning:grammar

photo not mine credit to owner.

A sigh escapes from your lips after you check the time. Jiseok was late again, although this seems to be the new normal lately. Every time you make plans with him there is always some reason why he’s late. His reasons for being late are vague too. “I got caught up, sorry,”, “I had to help my mom,”, “ I took an unexpected nap." Ok, you’ll give the last one to him, but the other reasons just don’t sit right with you. You have a feeling that he’s lying. Why would he lie to you though? 

The sound of a knock penetrated through your front door. If that isn’t you Jiseok  you think, getting up to answer the door. Opening the door you’re met with a slightly messy haired Jiseok.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Jiseok greeted you with an apologetic smile. 

“No worries you’re always late,” you jabbed, stepping aside to let him in. He enters your house. “So did you get caught up again?” You asked.

“Yeah, something like that,” he replied, scratching the back of his head. He ran into a thief who had just robbed a convenience store on his way over. Of course it was his Spiderman duty to catch the robber, but he couldn’t tell you that. He had to keep his identity as Spiderman a secret. Jiseok didn’t like lying to you, he hated it. Being Spiderman was awesome, keeping it from his loved ones wasn’t. “ I brought snacks!” he ranged happily, holding up a bag, trying to make it up to you for being late again. 

“I guess I can forgive you for being late again then. Let’s go to my room,” you told him. The two of you headed to your room and Jiseok pulled out the snacks. You plopped down on your bed, grabbing the t.v. remote and turning on the t.v.

“This just in, Spiderman has caught this thief after they robbed this local convenience store,” a news telecaster said upon turning on the t.v. They showed security footage of Spiderman catching the thief. 

“That’s the convenience store by my house. Isn’t that where you got these snacks? Did you get to see Spiderman!” You questioned Jiseok excitedly. 

“Oh-uh no I- I must’ve just missed him,” Jiseok stuttered out. Your shoulders dropped in disappointment 

“How lame,” you stated. “I want to meet Spiderman. He’s so cool! I bet he’s cute under that mask too. I can sense it. Did you think if I got stuck in a tree he would come save me?” You rambled. Jiseok sat there stiff as you talked so smittenly about Spiderman. 

“I think you’d be an idiot for getting stuck in a tree,” he scoffed. “You’re not a cat,” he added. 

“My neighbor has a cat,” you implied, not so subtly.

“Y/n, you better leave that cat alone,” Jiseok scolds, causing you to laugh. 

“Don’t act like you don’t want to meet Spiderman,” you mized.

“I-” it’s not like he can meet himself. “Didn’t you say you wanted to watch a movie?” Jiseok opts for changing the subject. 

“Oh yeah. Spiderman being blocks away from where I live distracted me,” you chuckled, beginning to pull up the movie. Jiseok lets out a breath of relief. It’s too awkward to talk about Spiderman when he is Spiderman.

It’s been a few weeks. Jiseok is still what you now call routinely late. You’ve noticed something else that is weird too. Jiseok had cut himself while cutting fruit, but the next day the cut was completely gone. Jiseok tried to excuse it by saying it was just a small cut, so it healed quickly, but you saw the cut yourself. You’re the one who put the bandaid on it. It wasn’t small enough to heal in a day, you’re certain about that. This incident also reminded you about the cat scratches he had a while back that seemed to just disappear the next day too. It was strange, but Jiseok didn’t seem to think so. He even made you think that you were the one being strange about it.

Presently, you’re standing on top of your slightly rickety dresser to hang some pictures on your wall. Jiseok was standing on the floor behind you because he was paranoid about you falling. He tried to talk you into letting him hang them up, but you insisted on doing it yourself.

“Jiseok can you go grab me the box of nails over on my bed?” You asked. Jiseok looked at the box of nails, sitting on your bed on the other side of your room. Then he looks back at you. 

“You better not fall,” he warns you, going to quickly grab the nails. 

“I’m not gonna fall,” you laughed. You did fall. Right after you said that you wouldn’t. You took one too many steps to the left, where there was no more dresser to stand on. Letting out a yelp you waited for the impact of landing on the floor. However the floor never came, instead Jiseok’s arms caught you. 

“I told you not to fall!” He scolds you. Jiseok was on the other side of your room. Even if he saw you fall there was no way he could have gotten to you in time to catch you. He clearly did though or else you wouldn’t be in his arms right now. Things seriously did not add up and you couldn’t take it anymore. 

“Jiseok I shouldn’t be in your arms right now!” You yelled frustrated. 

“Oh sorry here,” he mumbled, putting you down. Thinking he made you uncomfortable.

“No, Jiseok I mean I should be lying on the floor in pain. There is no way you could have caught me when you were standing over there,” you pointed towards your bed. 

“Uh-” Jiseok doesn’t know what to say because you’re right. He couldn’t just watch you fall and possibly get hurt though. 

“You’re always unexplainably late too. How is it possible for you to be so caught up all the time? Plus I know for a fact that that cut on your finger wasn’t that small. It shouldn’t have been healed the next day. Did you forget about how I put the bandaid on it? How you whined like a baby when I disinfected it? This doesn’t make sense Jiseok,” you went off. Jiseok sighed. 

“I know y/n, I know and I’m sorry. It’s just…” he trails off. 

“Just what and don’t lie to me. I can tell that you’ve been keeping something from me,” you tell him. Jiseok is silent. 

“I’m Spiderman,” he finally says. You scoffed.

“Fine don’t tell me,” you went to brush past him, but he caught you by the arm. 

“Y/n, I’m serious,” he states. “Look if you don’t believe me,” he goes over to his bag and reaches into it. He pulls out his mask showing it to you. You approached Jiseok, taking the mask in between your fingers. This can’t be real can it? Jiseok, your best friend, is Spiderman?

“Jiseok if this is some kind of joke,” you started to threaten.

“How else could I have caught you? Healed that quickly. Why I’m late all the time,” he defended. It did all make sense. When you think about it, him being Spiderman explains everything that’s been going on with him.

“I guess I was right then,” you said. 

“What?” Jiseok asked, confused. 

“When I said I bet Spiderman is cute under the mask,” you elucidated. Jiseok’s cheeks flame a shade of pink. “Oh gosh I said I wanted you to save me from a tree,” your other words hit you. Your cheeks now flame pink with embarrassment as you flopped down onto your bed. Jiseok laughs. 

“See you feel like an idiot for just saying it now,” he teased you, taking a seat on your bed.

“Stop!” You groaned, sitting up.

“Shouldn’t you be happy? You met Spiderman. You’re best friends with Spiderman,” he continued to play. 

“Spiderman is a lot lamer than I thought he’d be,” you remarked. Jiseok puts his hand over his heart in offense.  

“How dare you?” He lightly smacks your knee. 

Now you know that Jiseok is Spiderman, nothing is actually that different. Except you know why he’s late. Jiseok is thankful to have someone that he can talk to about his secret identity with. He was kinda scared that it would affect your friendship, but it didn’t. If anything it somehow found a way to make your friendship even stronger. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Jiseok apologized, entering your house. It was almost a catchphrase for him at this point.

“Get caught up again?” You played lightheartedly. 

“Yeah a cat  was stuck in a tree,” he told you with accusing eyes.

“I didn’t do it,” you raised your hands. The both of you burst out into laughter. 

“Would you save me though? If I was an idiot who got stuck in a tree?” You questioned as the two of you made your way to your bedroom.

“I’d always save you,” Jiseok answers. Something in the air shifts. You both feel it. 

“So if we went on a date would you be late to that too?” you quipped, falling onto your bed.

“I think Spiderman could take the day off. Just let him know when,” Jiseok takes his spot beside you. The both of you look at eachother locking eyes before a giggle leaves each of you. The unspoken feelings you have for each other linger in the air, but you don’t have to talk about them. You just know.

#xdinary heroes #xdh #xdh imagines #xdh x reader #xdinary heroes imagines #xdinary heroes x reader #xh gaon #xh jiseok #kwak jiseok #jiseok x reader #gaon x reader #jiseok #gaon

[thealtoduck]

I've actually been thinking of making a story where the oc is the son of Emma Frost (& Wolverine, but you can ignore that) and I realized that, that idea could be a cool reader fanfic but I suck at making reader fics so I was wondering if you'd like to take a stab at it. If you do you can make the love interest anyone you think is fit and you don't have to use the live action movies (I wasn't going to). Sorry I don't really know how to end this so.... This is it. Please and thank you.

Being the son of Emma Frost and being in the same class as Peter Parker…

Peter Parker x Male Reader

Warnings: Superhero violence, reader and Peter are lowkey horny for each other…

Summary: You and Peter both notice strange things about each other until your secrets are revealed…

(A/n: Sorry it took so long for me to write…)

——

Looking back it’s kinda strange you and Peter didn’t notice anything strange about each other.

He randomly came back from a school trip with a six pack and you came to school and started popping headache medicine like it was pez candy.

When your mutant powers kicked in you got both of your mothers powers, the diamond form was easy enough to master but the telepathy was harder to control. It gave you bad headaches when there was a lot of people close to you and living in Queens that was quite often, so you always carried medicine for it around with you.

You found out about Spider-Man being in your class when you ran out of headache medicine in the middle of class so you heard all the thoughts of your classmates and it was PAINFULL.

But somewhere in the mess of angsty and kinda horny teenage thoughts you heard someone thinking off the fact that they were Spider-Man, you couldn’t figure out who though cause there was to many voices overlapping.

You couldn’t help but wonder who might be Spider-Man but you would find out sooner than you thought.

One day after school you remembered that you had a science project due to tommorow and was running home through one of the alleys of New York but you stopped when you turned a corner and right in front of you Peter Parker was pulling on the Spider-Man suit over his half-naked body.

The two of you just stared awkwardly at each other for a few seconds. ”Uhhh… Hey Peter, what’cha doin there…?” you asked awkwardly. ”Uhm… I can’t come up with a single good excuse at the moment” Peter answered honestly.

”If i told you i could read minds and turn my skin to diamond would you buy that and we’ll call it even and never speak of this again” you suggested as you really needed to get to work on your science project.

”In any other situation i probably wouldn’t buy it but in this situation that feels way to specific to not be real, so yeah we have a deal” Peter replied. ”Cool, see you in school tommorow” you said and walked past him.

Later…

But they did speak of it again…

Peter caught up with you after school and asked if you could speak in private. The two of you went to the same alley where you had found out about him being Spider-Man. ”I need help” Peter started. He then explained he believed one of the staff members at school may be involved in a illegal weapon dealing business.

”I was wondering if you could maybe read their minds and find out who it was?” Peter asked. ”Well, i have harder time reading minds when in public and there is more people around but i’ll definetely give it a try” you said.

”Thank you, if there is anything i can do for you just let me know” Peter said gratefully. Your brain wanted to suggest: ”Let me get a piece of that ass” but you decided against it and instead suggested ”There is something you can do, we can go get coffee and you help me with my chemistry homework?”.

”Yeah, Of course” Peter answered and the two of you found a nice café and he helped you out with the homework.

Later…

You managed to find out who was involved with the weapon deal and escorted Peter to the site where it was gonna go down. You hid in the shadows with Peter or at the moment Spider-Man but suddenly a light was shining on the two of you. ”Intruders” a thug yelled and you quickly changed to your diamond form.

They started shooting at the two of you, while Peter dodged you stood your ground as the bullets bouced of your body.

You and Peter then managed to take out all the criminals and retrived the illegal weapons. You contacted the police and sent them to the scene as you and Peter left the criminals tied up and the weapons webbed up.

The two of you then sat yourselves on a rooftop and talked about how awesome each other’s powers were. Peter then let you ride on his back as he took you home after you had started getting cold from the bullet holes in your clothes. Peter hadn’t minded getting a good look at your body through the many holes though.

You then said goodbye to each other and Peter said he hoped the two of you could work together again for a mission and you couldn’t agree more.

#peter parker x male reader #peter parker x male!reader #x male!reader #male reader #x male reader #spider man x male reader #spiderman x male reader #avengers x male reader #avengers x male!reader #marvel x male reader #marvel x male!reader #mcu x male reader

[deanstead]

Pieces (13): New Dynamics

Chapter 13: New Dynamics

Chapter Summary: Y/N navigates the new dynamics for both herself and Chloe.

Word Count: 1,508

Warnings: none

SERIES MASTERLIST || JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

“Mom?”

You froze, turning away from Jay to blink back at your daughter who’d found her way out of bed, standing in the middle of your living room, with a questioning look on her face.

Your hand was still resting on Jay’s chest from where you’d been interrupted.

You glanced at Jay, clearing your throat before you pushed yourself back up and headed towards her. “Hey baby.”

You bent down to reach eye level with Chloe. “We gotta get you back to bed.”

“Mom?” Chloe asked now and you stopped. “Is Jay your boyfriend?”

You glanced at Jay.

You had had a few ideas, at least in your head, about how you were going to tell Chloe. But none of them involved her walking in on you and Jay kissing.

You looked at her. “Maybe. How would you feel about it?”

Jay wasn’t sure if he was supposed to look at Chloe or not, so he leaned backwards and looked down.

Chloe studied you for a while before she shrugged. “Okay.”

“Okay?” You asked, still kneeling in front of her.

Chloe nodded. “If you love Jay, he’s your boyfriend.”

You smiled. “And you think that’s okay? If Jay comes over more, and the three of us hang out together?” You asked her again, glancing at Jay who smiled at you.

“Together?” Chloe asked, her eyes going to Jay.

You felt the urge to kill Caleb boil inside you again because you were sure that if not for the crap he and Vivian had pulled last weekend, Chloe would have been more than thrilled to have Jay be a more permanent fixture in your lives.

Jay looked up and smiled, nodding at her. “Together.” He assured her.

Chloe looked back at you and smiled. “Okay.” This time her answer was chippier.

“You didn’t like it when Daddy did it before.” You gently pressed her. No matter what you felt, it was important that Chloe was okay with a shift in dynamics, that she didn’t feel like her parents were both moving on without her and you wanted her to understand that you'd never leave her behind.

Chloe shook her head. “It’s different.”

“What’s different, sweetie?”

Chloe shrugged. “Jay loves me.” She stated, like it was the most obvious answer in the world. She angled her head up to look towards Jay. “Right?”

Jay smiled. “Of course I do.” He got up, heading towards the both of you and picking Chloe up into his arms. “You’ll both be my girls, how does that sound?”

Chloe giggled and nodded. “Will you read to me?”

Jay glanced at you and you nodded encouragingly before he carried her in, tucking her into bed and perching by the side of her bed to read to her.

Maybe Chloe didn’t understand the dynamics of the adult world, or what it all really meant. But she could definitely feel it, she knew exactly who cared for her and loved her. You smiled as you heard Jay’s voice travel out of her room as he read to her.

Everything after that day merely solidified your confidence that you’d made the right decision for both you and Chloe.

Jay had been totally cool with Chloe walking in on the both of you, and he’d been more concerned about Chloe’s reaction than he had been with anything else. Not that you should have been surprised.

Chloe was still adamant that she didn’t want to go to her father’s. You’d even offered to have breakfast with her and Caleb, telling her you’d bring Jay along, but she’d refused. You didn’t want to push her, so you figured you’d deal with Caleb when he called.

What Chloe did want to do was bring lunch to Jay.

It was only a week since that night, you hadn’t even gotten around to telling Will, much less anyone else and if not for the fact that Jay had left a file and his jacket behind at your apartment, you wouldn’t have given in to Chloe’s whining.

It wasn’t that the both of you were keeping it a secret. You’d meant to tell Will, and other than awkwardly opening with “So I’m dating your brother”, you couldn’t think of a better way. But everytime you came close to bringing it up with him, a patient would come in or someone would interrupt.

It felt weird, walking to the precinct now, holding Chloe’s hand, down the same street. The store was open, no one would have known just a few months ago that the previous kid working the counter had died, that you’d been beaten to an inch of your life and if Jay hadn’t come…

You wrenched your thoughts away from the horrible memory and smiled down at Chloe again, who was skipping every other step as she held the sandwich she’d insisted on helping to make for Jay. You were just glad she didn't seem to have the same train of thoughts you had while walking down this particular street.

“Hi, Trudy.” Trudy had come to see you in the hospital and you’d been by the district before to help when they needed some advice from a doctor.

“I’ll buzz you up.” Trudy smiled at Chloe and you nodded, thanking her before you took Chloe upstairs.

It was only when you were reaching the top of the stairs that your footsteps slowed. It didn’t count as an unannounced visit since Jay knew you were coming but still, maybe bringing your daughter for your first kind-of official visit to Intelligence wasn’t the best idea. Maybe coming here wasn’t a good idea to begin with, you should have asked Jay to come down so you could just…

You looked up as you heard footsteps, feeling the sense of relief that came along with Jay. Jay smiled. “Hey, come on.”

“Jay, are you sure…”

“We’re in between cases now. Trust me.” Jay whispered back, taking Chloe up into his arms and your hand in his free hand.

And you did, you knew you did.

So you found yourself being introduced to his team as his girlfriend, and Chloe was the highlight of the visit, no one could get enough of her. It was only when you headed to his desk to drape his jacket across his chair and put the stuff on his desk that your eyes fell on the frame sitting on his desk.

“He put it up straight away.” Hailey said and you looked up at her from where she was watching you from her own desk.

Jay had framed up Chloe’s “My Hero” drawing, displaying it out on his desk like a proud father, which was more than you’d expected. You remembered with new distaste the few times you’d actually been to your ex husband’s office, with barely a photo of you or Chloe visible on his desk. You hadn't thought much about it then, but you had fresh eyes now.

You smiled at Hailey, your eyes flicking over to Jay’s, just as a phone rang.

“We got shots fired.” Hailey said, and it was like flicking a switch as the team jumped into action.

“Give Jay a hug, come on Chloe.” Chloe hugged Jay and you leaned forward to give him a kiss.

“Be safe.” You whispered, before they swept out of the district.

The next night, Jay had arranged for all of you to have dinner with Will.

You shouldn’t have felt as nervous as you did, especially since Will was your friend first. But the way Will’s expression barely shifted when you walked in told you that he already had an idea.

You smiled sheepishly at him. “Hey.”

Will just smiled. “About time. Glad you thought about what I said.”

“What did you say?” Jay asked, as Will shrugged cheekily at him. Jay narrowed his eyes and slid into the seat next to Will but Chloe was having none of that. “Here, Jay!”

You shook your head as you got up to switch places with Jay. “Seriously, she’s going to boot me out one day for Jay.”

The laughter lasted all night, you had the best night you'd had in a long time. You’d been so busy with making sure Caleb was happy, making sure Chloe was happy, you’d almost forgotten about yourself. Even after you’d separated with Caleb, getting back on your feet wasn’t easy and you’d spent all your time making sure Chloe was doing well.

But they’d looked out for you.

Jay and Will showered Chloe with so much attention she was giggling and chattering all through dinner, which also meant she was already half asleep before Jay was paying for the meal.

You turned towards Will. “Thanks, Will.”

“What?” Will asked, genuinely confused.

You smiled. “Just… thanks.”

Will just nodded and smiled. “I’m glad it’s you.”

You glanced up at him, searching for some clarification.

Will smiled. “You seem to ground him, too. He’s not doing all the work. Like I said, you’re good for each other.”

Will looked up as he noticed Jay slip his wallet back into his pocket and turn back towards the two of you. “And if he’s a jerk, I’ll kick him for you.”

Jay rolled his eyes and you laughed, Jay swinging an arm around your shoulders before all of you left the restaurant.

“Thanks for doing this.” You told Jay after he’d loaded both you and the sleeping Chloe into his truck.

“What?” Jay asked, glancing at you before he started the engine.

You smiled. “I thought it’d be weird for everyone to know. You know, given my history… my daughter… everything. But it’s nice. I like that everyone knows… I think.”

Jay took your hand pressing it to his lips and you felt him smile before he pulled away gently, as he quietly glanced at you.

He didn’t need to say anything, you knew.

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

#resa.fics #resa.piecesfic #jay halstead x reader #jay halstead #chicago pd #jay halstead series #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead fic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n

[kalorphic]

hi Ella! first, i wanna say that i love your if 💕💕💕 and second, i kinda have an idea for an if but i didn’t really know who to share it with, so i came here :D (i hope i’m not bothering) 

i love avatar: the last airbender and i want to write a story where elementalists exist. the player can choose which element they wish to control (fire-earth-water-air). they will go to a secret island (or islands) where there is an elementalist school, cities and towns where elementalists can live and won’t have to hide their powers like they do in other parts of the world. i have 4 characters outlined (each of them representing an element). 

i don’t have a story conflict yet lol or plot details. and i’m not sure if this idea will be interesting to people. so i wanted to ask you cause i think you have good taste. oh and you don’t have to answer this ask if you don’t want to 💕

Hello lovely!! Thank you so much <333 and honestly, I love hearing about people’s wips so please don’t ever feel like you’re bothering me by talking about them!

ATLA is definitely up there as one of my fave shows, so personally I’d be thrilled to see anything inspired by it 🫶 your idea sounds so cool though, I love love love the idea of getting to explore these islands and the cities and towns on them 👀

Tbh, if you wanted, I reckon you could go down a slice of life route with smaller conflicts if you couldn’t come up with a major conflict.

Whatever you end up with though, I’m sure it will be great (they’ll definitely be a following for it as well, I’m sure!) and I wish you all the luck with it 🤍🤍

#ask #daisyneedstea <3 #<- me too fr #also thank you for saying i have good taste lol 😭🤍

[softtdaisy]

🌷 Peter Parker x Graveyard by Halsey

_graveyard

peter parker x fem!reader

based on: graveyard by halsey

summary: no matter what you did, Peter is ready to leave everything behind and follow you away from the past

words: 748

a/n: I love halsey sooo much it was so cool to write with one of her song. I hope you will love it and I want to hear every one thoughts on this open ending, what do you think can happen 👀♥️

join my secret garden for my 1k celebration 🌸

When Peter first learnt who you were, he wanted to give up on everything. He was confident he could stop loving you in a minute after learning you were making a deal with the enemies. Or, more exactly, that you were the enemy.

But it was as easy to let go the woman you loved more than anything.

Maybe he should have known from the beginning that something wasn’t right. That your meeting was not the coincidence he thought it was, that it was a calculating encounter you had planned all along to get with him. But the adage was right, love made you blind. And Peter fell for your eyes so quickly that he couldn’t see all the warnings.

Maybe he shouldn’t trust you right now. When you were saying that it was all over and that you won’t try to hurt him anymore.

After a few attacks, Peter noticed something was wrong. It was almost like he became an open book for his enemies and that they could tell where he would be, even when he wasn’t Spiderman. And they seemed to know where to hit to hurt him. It wasn’t until the day you broke down in his arms that Peter understood that you were the innocent angel, he thought you were.

“I’m so sorry Peter. I thought I could do this. I had no idea I would fall for you like this. Please, I don’t want to lose you.” You cried. Peter wasn’t mad. He couldn’t when he saw you like that. He just wanted to comfort you and make you feel better.

That was what he did. He even helped you plan your escape to stop working with the enemies and be free from them. You wouldn’t have to worry anymore. You wouldn’t have to betray your lover no more.

You died on a Monday morning, shoot by someone who seemed to know too much about your situation. Peter and you thought it would be an excuse for his enemies to take a step back and wait a little before facing him again. Peter got you a new ID card, a passport, and tickets to Europe. You were a new person, at least for now. You were starting a new life.

One you wanted to start with Peter.

“Follow me Peter. You can fight crimes in Europe too. And we can be together,” you tried to convince him one night after making love to each other. The proposal was tempting. Starting a new life somewhere else, away from his past and his memories. And with you, the woman he couldn’t help but love no matter the awful things you did. 

He wanted to. But should he?

If he talked about it with anyone, they would say he was making a mistake. Who would run away with a woman that try to get him killed? How could he be so sure you wouldn’t try again with a new team? How could he be so sure that you wouldn’t kill him yourself and come back here, living your real life like nothing happened? 

Peter knew you were sincere. He knew you had changed. He knew you loved him purely and sincerely. At least, he had to believe it. Because there was one thing he knew for sure: he wouldn’t be able to go on without you. Without your smile and your laugh illuminated his life. Without your affection making him feel loved. You became the reason he had the strength to live every day after all he went through. He had to believe there was a light at the end of the tunnel. 

So, there he was, waiting for you on this Wednesday morning. All your stuff was packed. All your life in a few suitcases ready to fly over the ocean. “Are you sure you won’t regret it?” You asked Peter. Leaving his life was easy, assuming that choice once in Europe would be harder. You didn’t want him to suddenly hate you after a few weeks and make the cohabitation impossible. Peter could come back here if he wanted to. You couldn’t.

“I would follow you all the way, no matter how far. Even to the other side of the world. Even all the way to your graveyard.” He said, taking your hand between his fingers. “I can’t even imagine a life without you, so live it without be impossible.” 

All Peter had to know now, was to hope he wasn’t making a mistake.

#peter parker fic #peter parker #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader #Peter Parker imagine #Peter Parker story #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x y/n #tasm! peter parker x reader #tasm!peter parker angst #tasm!peter x you #andrew garfield imagine #andrew garfield x female reader #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader #andrew garfield #my writing #1k celebration

[randomtacoscry]

WIP Wednesday

Okay, so I've never done one of these before, but I wanted to ask for some input on my wip so far. Be aware:

This WIP is far from published!

I just wanted to see how it did on tumblr and maybe try to see if anyone is interested in this kind of story. DISCLAIMER: I am not much of a writer (this is my first official fic- I have written unpublished drabbles and one shots though), so apologies if this sucks. (There is more below the break btw)

“Would it change anything?” Pete asks through a tightened throat and he doesn’t feel Tom’s hand shift, almost like he was expecting Pete to say this. Tom doesn’t answer, at least not verbally, but his eyes tell Pete everything, like they always have. 

It couldn’t. 

Pete and Tom knew the consequences of their relationship. They knew they would never be a regular couple, able to hold hands out in public, or tell friends and their jobs about their relationship. 

But I wish it did. 

Tom didn’t want this either; apparently it was up to higher powers to make both of their decisions for them, no matter what they wanted. Pete didn’t choose to lose Goose. Or Carole. Or to never know his father. And Tom never chose to live in a society like this; where he had to choose between his dream career or a secret that would tear both of their reputations to shreds in a heartbeat. 

Tom closes the distance between them, leaning down to place his forehead against Pete’s. Their breathing matches pace, clicking them together naturally, as if four months haven’t passed since they’ve been together. He feels Tom’s other hand come to the left side of his face, holding onto it like it’s the last thing he’ll ever touch, before the man leans in to press their lips together. 

Pete hates that he kisses back. Hates that his hands grip Tom’s forearms automatically before deepening the kiss. He hates that Tom moves his hands to Pete’s back and presses them even closer together, and that he knows he likes that. Pete lets himself grip the back of Tom’s shirt and he hates that Tom knows what that means. 

Tom pulls the plain gray shirt over his head before continuing to kiss Pete harder. He lifts the hem of Pete’s shirt, placing his cool hands on the warm skin of Pete’s waist, causing him to stiffen at the drastic temperature change. Pete needs Tom closer… he pulls his shirt off, pressing their chest together before finally breaking the kiss off. He rests his head on Tom’s chest, breathing heavily to catch his breath.

This is a bad idea.

Pete feels Tom’s breathing soften and he uses his forehead to push his head off the other man’s chest. He keeps his eyes down before (he already hates himself for this) pressing a kiss to Tom’s collarbone. 

“Are you sure?” His voice is just above a whisper and Pete feels weak for nodding his head ‘yes’. He looks up at Tom and they lock eyes. They both know what each other is thinking-

This is a bad idea…

Tom presses Pete’s chin up and leans down to kiss him and it almost feels like old times. Like they’re in their old, shared assignment and Pete is home on shore leave. Like their relationship is perfectly fine and they’re just enjoying their time together. Back then it felt like nothing was looming over the both of them…

Tom pushes Pete into his bedroom, barely breaking kisses before trailing a line down his neck.

I know this is only about 500 words (don't worry I have more), but I did NOT want to spoil some MAIN plot points. If you have any tips, ideas, or critiques, they are all welcome (whether anonymously, in the tags, or comments)! Thanks for reading! (This is also a first draft, so hopefully it will become more polished in the future.)

18+ below:

Also, any idea how to write M-rated? If anyone has any fics that can help me grasp how to write smut (not really explicit-level), that would be great. I literally have no idea what I am doing, but I would like to make this fic M-rated.

#icemav #top gun #top gun maverick #ao3 #ao3 writer #wip wednesday #current wip #work in progress #my fic #fanfiction #help meeeeee #pete maverick mitchell #tom iceman kazansky

[arotechno]

O. basilicum, part ii

“Someone did this to him.”

“Now, we don’t know that—”

“You said it yourself! Those wounds don’t look accidental.”

“What would you have me do, Hank? Send a search party out to get revenge? Would that solve anything?”

Basil tightened his fists in the quilted blanket draped across his lap. Voices continued arguing in hushed tones from the other room, where they probably thought Basil couldn’t hear them.

It had been a strange day. For hours, he’d phased in and out of consciousness, experiencing life in a terrifying blur as people moved about, frantic, periodically spooning broth into his mouth and wiping his face with a cool cloth. Waking up at last to find that he had not, in fact, died alone in the woods as he’d expected to, had brought on quite a mixed bag of emotions. First, there had been relief at living to see another day. That much was obvious. Then came confusion—namely, of course, at his miraculous survival, and only secondarily at the fact that he had absolutely no idea where he was or who he was with. And finally, there had been the abject terror, invading his body with such abrupt intensity that Basil briefly thought himself dying after all. They’d set the broken bone in his leg, and he’d screamed himself raw the entire time. After that, he’d been given something warm and herbal to drink, and that had made the pain dull enough that Basil was able to regain some semblance of control over his mind.

For now, the terror had faded. The wall of grief had yet to catch up to him, but it was there, looming. For the moment, Basil only felt numb.

“Hell, Frida, I don’t know. It just makes me sick.”

“All we can do is keep him safe until he heals. After that, it’s up to him.”

Basil looked down at his hands. They were trembling.

“Hey, kid, don’t worry about them,” a voice piped up next to him. Basil jumped and tangled his hands in the quilt again. He’d nearly forgotten the woman had been sitting there—she and the man in the other room had been the ones to rescue him. He knew this, and even still—

The woman sighed. “I’m not gonna hurt you. You’re one of us, hear?”

Basil said nothing.

“I’m Ann. Do you want to tell me your name?”

Basil considered it. The words, however, wouldn’t come. Even if he’d wanted to, Basil had screamed so much he wasn’t sure he could speak at all anymore.

Ann was a woman in perhaps her mid-30s, with curly brown hair she kept in a long braid. She wore sturdy boots and work clothes with a hooded cloak and a leather belt. A bow and arrow hung on the back of the rickety wooden chair she was perched in at Basil’s bedside, one foot up over her knee and arms crossed over her chest. Ann didn’t look much like she really wanted to be there, playing babysitter for the healer woman, but Basil didn’t really want to be there either, so he supposed he couldn’t blame her.

“Anyway, don’t worry about those two,” Ann continued. “Hank gets real up in arms when something happens to one of our own, and Frida’s far too much of a principled pacifist to let him do anything about it. Important thing is that no one in this town is going to let anybody hurt you again.”

Basil wet his lips with his tongue. “One of our own?” he croaked.

Ann seemed briefly surprised, blinking back at him. It was the first coherent thing out of his mouth since he’d arrived, so again, he couldn’t really fault her for it.

“You haven’t pieced that one together? Kid, Hank felt your pulse when we found you in the woods. You don’t have one, and neither do we.”

A warm feeling settled over Basil. Two years ago, he and Ace had shared a similar secret among the fireflies one summer evening, and Basil had tackled his best friend in a hug and wept. Now, all he could do was sit there, stupefied. How ironic, that he should be violently cast out of one place for who he was, only to be given shelter in another for just the same. How fortuitous that Hank and Ann should have found him, and that he’d run this way at all. And how tragic it was that only he should be so lucky, while others, like Ace, were left behind.

There was nothing he could do about that now.

The door opened and Hank and Frida reentered, faces passive. They didn’t want Basil to know they’d been speaking about him; he was, unfortunately, smarter than they realized.

Hank was a tall man with brown skin and kind eyes, and he regarded Basil with a reassuring smile as he collected his things.

“We’d best head out, Ann,” he said to his companion. “We’re burning daylight.”

“Thank you for watching the boy,” Frida said. She was a short, matronly woman, graying at the temples, with a voice like clear bells.

“Sure, sure.” Ann waved a hand about. “We’re like two peas in a pod now, right, kid?”

Basil shied back and said nothing, holding tight to his blanket, but he couldn’t help but crack the smallest of smiles. It was comforting to know there were more people like him in the world than he thought, even if the scars he now bore made it difficult to trust them. Perhaps, with time, he could learn.

Ann and Hank departed, leaving Basil alone in the tiny clinic room with Frida. The fear threatened to overtake him again, but Frida made a point of sitting out of arm’s reach.

“Do you need to take something more for the pain?” she asked.

Basil shook his head. His knee still throbbed, but with it carefully wrapped and his leg in a splint, it wasn’t so bad now if he didn’t move. It was nothing compared to the pain of running on it for days at a time.

“Good,” Frida said. “I want to take a better look at you. May I?”

With great trepidation, Basil allowed himself a nod. Frida scooted her chair a bit closer, so she could examine the line of bruises that snaked its way up his entire left side. Basil tolerated the attention, but when the woman’s hand grazed the side of his ribcage, he jerked away and a guttural cry clawed its way out of his throat. Frida retracted her hand and hushed him gently.

“It’s okay,” she said softly. “I won’t hurt you, but I need to check for breaks. If it’s too much, you can tell me, alright?”

Trembling, Basil nodded once more. He steeled himself for the pain, trying and failing not to imagine the sensation of every kick, every punch, every blunt force blow to his small frame, but it never came. Frida prodded gently at Basil’s ribs, and though his bruises stung, she did not hurt him.

Basil let out a shaky breath. Frida paused her ministrations and drew Basil’s blankets around his shoulders. She held his gaze, eyes warm but keen.

“Did someone give you those bruises?” she asked.

“They were afraid of me,” Basil whispered, clutching the edges of the blanket. “But I’m not a monster.”

“No, you’re not a monster. What’s your name, dear?”

“It’s Basil.”

“Basil.” Frida smiled. “Well, you’re safe here. This is a town called Verdigris—a Heartless commune of sorts, really. Everyone here has their own stories of how they ended up here. We’ll have to ask around and get you some new clothes. And some crutches, too, so you can get around on your own. You’ll probably want a bath, as well, but that can wait until you’re feeling a bit better.”

Basil didn’t know what to say. He felt wrung out, like an old dishcloth. He’d spent all his young life living with this horrible secret, hiding from himself and from who he was. The moment that secret had come to light had ruined his life. Now, he found himself in a place where it didn’t matter at all. It didn’t even seem real. It felt like someone had pulled him straight out of the oven and dunked him in cold water, but for some reason he kept asking to go back to the coals.

Thankfully, Frida didn’t ask him to speak. She merely excused herself for a few moments and returned with a steaming bowl set on a wooden tray, which she placed down in front of Basil.

“Go ahead and eat up, Basil,” she said. “You need your strength.”

Basil peered into the bowl. It was filled with hot soup, little chunks of vegetables and grains floating in a warm broth with tender bits of meat. Just like his mother used to make. All at once, Basil crashed headfirst into the wall of grief that had chased him all the way here.

He’d likely never see his parents again. He’d never spend another summer afternoon out in the meadow picking wildflowers in the hot sun, or eating fresh raspberries under the shade of a willow tree, their ripe flesh bursting between his teeth like a bubble, sweet juices coating his tongue. He’d never build a snow fort with Ace again, telling secrets well into the night until their parents called them home. All too easily, it had all become part of the past. Just like that.

What would happen, if he returned to Swallow’s Point? Would he be attacked again? Killed? Arrested, thrown in some dark cellar, studied like a bug? Or would he be left alone, having served his penance for the crime of being born different? What would happen to his parents?

What had already happened to Ace?

If he’d kept his guard up, if he’d been more careful, maybe he’d be with them still. Had he never been discovered, life could have continued on in blissful perpetuity. Basil knew he’d never truly been the monster they all thought him to be; he’d only ever been a boy, doing his best. But it hadn’t mattered.

Overcome with guilt and sorrow, Basil hunched over, drawing inward on himself like a wilting flower, and bawled.

#heeheehoohoo #aro writing #aro writers #o basilicum #the heartless #writing #long post #op