#I told you they'd be bland

[mcntsee]

— ★ tomorrow

↳ summary: “I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for her face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

↳ warnings: hospitals, mentions of gunshot wounds, pain, regret, not proof-read. No use of “y/n”

↳ author’s note: This is fluff, I promise the end is really sweet! This is also inspired by different, random, pinterest quotes my friends sent me. Enjoy!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚

No one enjoyed hospitals. The colors lacked vibrancy, the sounds became repetitive after a few minutes, the antiseptic smell was overpowering, the food tasted bland, and the anxious wait for news about a loved one was excruciating.

Unfortunately, the team was all too familiar with hospital waiting rooms, and even more unfortunate was their familiarity with being patients themselves.

Thankfully, the Federal Employees' Compensation Act provided some relief. Without it, they couldn't even begin to fathom the astronomical medical bills they'd be facing.

Tonight, however, finding themselves stuck in the uncomfortable chairs of the hospital waiting room had not been part of their plans.

The young genius's head throbbed relentlessly, a sensation he'd endured for weeks. The unimaginable pressure around his entire head, compounded with the bright light reflecting off the hospital's shiny white walls, the incessant beeping and the sounds of loved ones crying doing nothing other than intensify his discomfort.

The nurse they had bombarded with questions upon arrival had emerged not long ago to thankfully inform them that everything was alright. The surgery had gone well, and she was now in recovery. Soon enough, if they wished, they could stop by her new temporary room and visit her.

By now, most of the team had returned to the office. Hotch had been called back to work to tackle the pending files on their desks. Fortunately, he had allowed Rossi and Reid to remain behind. Ostensibly, their task was to update the team on her condition, but both of them understood that even if that hadn’t been necessary, there was no force on earth that could have budged Spencer from his spot, where he had been stationed for the last however many hours.

Spencer could feel David's gaze piercing through him. He wanted to snap at him, but he knew his current behavior had undoubtedly attracted more attention than just the older agent's. Clutching at his head, tugging on strands of hair intermittently, his leg bouncing up and down, with eyes tightly shut—his agitation was palpable.

“Kid, they said she’s alright. You need to relax.”

It was true, they had been told that, but it did little to reassure him. His mind raced through various worst-case scenarios. Her wound could become infected, or there might be undetected damage to internal organs. He fretted over potential complications like inflammation of the peritoneum, the formation of blood clots, or even damage to blood vessels leading to reduced blood flow to vital organs, potentially resulting in organ dysfunction or failure.

“The survival rate might seem high, but statistically speaking, complications can arise, even with the best medical care.”

“Spencer—“

“For instance, studies have shown that gunshot wounds to the abdomen carry a significant risk of infection, with rates as high as 20%. And there’s the possibility of peritonitis, which occurs in approximately 10% of cases.”

“Kid—“

“Organ damage is also a concern, particularly with injuries to vital organs like the liver or intestines. Even with the most advanced treatments—“

“Reid!”

For the first time since he sat down, his leg ceased its relentless movement. His hand, which had been tugging at the ends of his hair, relaxed and dropped to his lap, along with the hand he had been waving in the air to explain the statistics. His eyes unclenched, the worry in his brow disappearing as the rest of his facial muscles relaxed.

“What is going on, Spencer?”

The genius's eyes met the older agent's worried gaze with deliberate blinks, adjusting to the harsh fluorescent lights overhead while tuning out the cacophony of noise that surrounded them. “I just— I”

“I never told her and I— I don’t— “ His breathing was uneven, his words tumbling out faster than his mind could keep pace, his mouth struggling to articulate as his chest constricted with anxiety.

A gentle weight settled on his shoulder, its warmth grounding him as it gave a light shake, bringing him back to the present moment and prompting him to pause and take a breath.

“Rossi I- I devoted half my time since meeting her to loving her, only to spend the other half hiding it from her.”

With a sigh, the formerly retired agent settled down next to the much younger agent, his hands staying on the genius's shoulder as he shifted slightly to find a comfortable position.

Reid's gaze lingered on Rossi's face for a moment before he averted it, focusing instead on the bustling activity in the hallway where nurses and doctors hurried back and forth attending to patients.

“Every moment we shared, every laugh, every smile she graced me with, even in her unconscious gestures—“ His gaze returned to the hallway momentarily before lowering to where his hands rested on his knees. With a quick, almost imperceptible shake of his head, he cleared his throat. “Every time I looked at her, the words swelled in my throat. I longed to tell her how much she truly means to me, the happiness and peace she effortlessly brings into my world.”

“To tell her that I love her. That I have for a while now.”

David’s mouth opened, but before he could utter a word, Spencer's pointer finger shot up in the air, silencing any impending speech. It hovered there for a brief moment before his whole palm opened, effectively halting whatever words David had intended to say and then dropping back down to his lap.

“Every single time, I held back. I stopped myself from reaching out to her, from letting my true feelings spill out, from whispering all the things I desperately wished she knew.” His words cracked along with his voice as he, for the first time, admitted aloud feelings he had hidden for so long. “And with my heart pounding in my ears, I always just watched her, silently promising myself, ‘Tomorrow. I’ll tell her tomorrow.’”

“I wasted all those yesterdays, and now,—“ His words trailed off with a sigh that escaped his lips, his eyes red-rimmed from hours of tears shed in the hospital, his gaze blurry as it searched for the older man’s face, “—What if I am completely out of tomorrows?”

They sat in silence for a moment, the weight of Spencer's admission hanging between them until the ringing of a phone shattered the stillness. With a sigh, Rossi reached into his pocket, retrieving the vibrating phone and glancing at the contact name.

“She’ll be okay, kid.”

With one final, reassuring squeeze to his shoulder, the older man rose to his feet, his knee cracking audibly as he turned to leave. Despite his efforts at reassurance, Spencer's profound anxiety remained largely unchanged.

He felt utterly helpless, his mind desperately grasping for solutions, for the comforting embrace of statistical analysis with its reassuring numbers. But instead, there was only silence. For the first time in his life, his mind was empty, devoid of answers, devoid of the usual cacophony of thoughts and calculations.

He couldn't recall the moment the nurse returned to inform him that he could visit her, nor did he remember following the nurse into the room and settling down beside her bed.

He cast restless glances around the room, his eyes darting from one piece of medical equipment to another, then flitting to the walls and ceiling. His gaze moved incessantly, pausing only briefly before moving on, taking in every detail. Except for her.

Alone in the quiet with her, he couldn't bring himself to meet her frame. To look at her now would make everything feel too real, and his heart was already heavy with pain.

His body felt like it was betraying him. Breathing became labored, thoughts fragmented, and the pain in his heart seemed insurmountable.

He wanted to tell someone— no, he wanted to tell her, but he knew she wouldn’t have a solution like she always did. So he sat there, his hands nervously tugging at strands of hair, eyes squeezed shut against the overwhelming cacophony of beeping machines surrounding them.

His heart weighed heavily in his chest, burdened by the weight of pain, regret, and fear. It was a sensation he never wanted to experience again, a darkness that threatened to engulf him entirely.

Throughout the night, nurses came and went. Some spoke to him, gave him updates on her condition but he didn’t listen. He tried, he just couldn’t understand it.

As the first light of dawn crept over the horizon, he reluctantly turned his gaze toward her bed. His eyes lingered on her hand, once so delicate and warm in his, now adorned with tubes and wires connecting her to different machines.

With a heavy sigh, his eyes remained fixed on her hand as he leaned forward, feeling the strain in his back from hours of immobility. With gentle care, he reached out and clasped her hand in his, his thumb tracing soothing circles over the back of it, mindful of the wires and tubes.

He remained still for a moment, relishing the warmth of her hand in his before allowing his gaze to travel up her arm, eyes tracing the patterns of the thin, cream-colored blanket that draped over her midsection when they got there. Then, his gaze shifted to her other arm, positioned protectively over her stomach where the wound lay, as if guarding it from further harm.

He studied the blue hospital gown draped over her body, its hue accentuating the sickly paleness of her skin. He traced every curve, every wrinkle, every wire, everything until his eyes finally met her bruised face.

She looked so peaceful and beautiful, devoid of worry. The furrows that typically marked her brow now absent, her closed eyes darting beneath her lids.

Tears welled in his eyes, the overwhelming emotions washing over him as he gazed upon her form. There was no smile, no gentle words escaping her lips, just a faintly parted mouth and serene countenance.

“Please wake up.” he whispered, his voice raspy from not being used in hours. “Please.” The desperation in his voice was evident in the way it cracked, in the way his chest tightened, in the way his throat constricted.

But she didn’t. Not for two weeks.

The medics reassured the team that she was showing positive signs and was going to be fine. They explained that in cases of severe internal bleeding within the abdominal cavity, it was common for patients to take longer to regain consciousness. "Sometimes, this can lead to hypovolemic shock and reduced blood flow to vital organs, including the brain," said the doctor they were currently questioning, one arm cradling a notepad against his chest while the other gestured towards her on the hospital bed, "which contributes to the prolonged unconsciousness she's experiencing."

Once the team's questions were answered, the doctor turned towards the door, his pen moving rapidly across the notepad as he scribbled something down. Upon reaching the door, he paused, pivoting back to face them. "While I can't predict the exact timeline for her awakening, I want to reassure you that we're doing everything we can to support her recovery." Tucking his pen back into his chest pocket, he scanned the room, meeting each person's gaze before lingering on on the genius’.

"Every individual responds differently to trauma and surgery, and it's not uncommon for patients to take some time to regain consciousness," he said, his tone gentle and reassuring, his kind smile directed at Spencer. "However, I want to emphasize that she's showing positive signs of progress, and her body is responding well to treatment. She should be waking up soon." With a final nod in the genius’ direction, he opened the door and disappeared into the flow of medical staff and patients outside her room.

The doctor's reassuring words and comforting demeanor provided Spencer with a small sense of relief.

As the days stretched on, nearing the two-week mark since her surgery, Spencer's exhaustion was becoming more evident. Dark circles underlined his eyes, his hair unkempt, and he felt the weight of fatigue settling into his bones. Sitting by her bedside day after day had taken its toll, leaving him feeling drained and with a sore backside.

It wasn’t until night, when he was alone with her again that he made a promise. “If you wake up tomorrow, I promise—“ He delicately released her hand, curling his fingers into a fist before extending his pinky finger to link with hers. “I pinky promise,” he whispered, a soft, trembling laugh escaping his lips as he recalled her insistence that a promise was only truly binding if sealed with a pinky. “If you wake up tomorrow, I’ll tell you everything.”

He had made up his mind days ago, swearing to himself that the moment she regained consciousness, he would lay everything bare. He hoped that verbalizing the promise would somehow penetrate her unconsciousness and draw her back to him.

As the night wore on and the room bathed in the soft glow of predawn, his senses awakened to a subtle movement near his head, his mind clouded with confusion as he remained still, trying to grasp his surroundings.

He found himself in a hazy state, unable to pinpoint the exact moment sleep had claimed him, yet the sensation of their linked pinkies lingered, his other hand placed gently on her leg, while his head rested on the bed.

It wasn’t until he felt his pinky being squeezed that Spencer’s senses sharpened, his back straightening with a crack as his eyes snapped into focus on her. The familiar furrow returned to her brow as she squeezed her eyes shut, her free hand instinctively reaching up to rub at her forehead.

His breath caught in his throat, his body frozen as he stared at her, his heart pounding loudly in his ears.

“Spence?”

Her voice was raspy, her tone confused as her eyes opened and scanned the room. Without hesitation, he rose from his seat, hands releasing hers as he hurried to the table with the water bottles. He swiftly grabbed one, unscrewing the cap as he returned to her side.

She struggled to lift herself up on her elbows, her eyes tracking his movements, fixated on the open water bottle as he presented it to her. With a gentle nod from her, he brought the bottle closer, tipping it carefully as it reached her parched lips, his other hand positioned beneath her chin, ready to catch any droplets that might escape.

After consuming almost half of the bottle, she gently pushed it away from her lips, taking a moment to swallow the last gulp before lying back down.

He remained in a state of shock, his mind racing faster than it had in weeks, attempting to process the moment as he observed her shifting, striving to find a comfortable position.

“Spence?”

“You—” he began, his words trailing off as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. “You are awake.”

At his words, a gentle smile, the one he had longed to see for weeks, graced her lips. She nodded in acknowledgment as she looked at him. Without hesitation, he moved forward, enveloping her in a tight embrace, being careful not to hurt her. "You're awake," he whispered softly, his face nuzzling into her neck.

He knew he was supposed to call a nurse in —something the staff had reminded him of repeatedly— , but in that moment, he couldn’t bear to let her go. So, he held her tighter, his arms enveloping her as if protecting her from everything, his hand gently cradling the back of her head, thumb tracing soothing circles as he drew her closer.

They stayed like that for what felt like an eternity before he released her from his embrace, his body reluctantly withdrawing from her warmth. His hands remained, tenderly cupping her face as he gazed into her eyes, memorizing every detail of her being.

"I have to tell you something," he whispered, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear. The familiar nerves and doubt flooded back, causing his heart to race so fast that he knew that if he had been the one hooked up to the machines, medics would have surely burst into the room thinking someone was having a heart attack.

He hesitated, his eyes lingering on her face, absorbing every detail illuminated by the gentle glow of the sun filtering into the room.

In his hesitation, his mind revisited every memory he shared with her. He recalled the moments he wanted to confess but held back, as well as his conversation with Rossi. Then, the memory of their pinky promise last night resurfaced, reminding him of his commitment. He couldn’t break a pinky promise.

“Spencer?”

“I love you.” There. He said it. His gaze lowered in fear of rejection, the nerves in his stomach growing, but he kept going, he had to. “I am so unimaginably in love with you.”

“Spencer—“

“No, I need—“ he paused, his eyes brimming with unshed tears, gazing still fixated downward as he cleared his throat from the imaginary knot that was beginning to form there. “I need you to know that every time you smile, every time you laugh, every time you talk to me, it’s like my whole world lights up.”

“And when you look at me, it’s like everything else fades away, and there’s just you.” With a deep inhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, colors swirling behind his eyelids from the pressure, before slowly exhaling and looking up to meet her gaze. “I can’t even scientifically explain how you make me feel. There is no book, or research article that explains what you make me feel.”

One of his hands left her face, gesturing through the air as he attempted to explain everything without the safety net of statistical knowledge. “Every time I’m near you, it’s like my heart speeds up so much that, scientifically speaking, I should be dead.” The quiet chuckle that escaped her lips reached his ears, easing the tight lines on his forehead as his lips formed into a gentle smile. “But it doesn’t matter, because being near you makes me feel more alive than I’ve ever felt before.”

“Every little thing you do, it just… it makes me fall more and more in love with you.”

“God, I’ve loved you for so long.” His hand halted its relentless movement and lowered to push the hair out of his eyes before running down his face with a grunt of frustration.

"I've fought multiple inner battles trying to tell you how I feel, only to back down at the last minute, silently promising myself that I would do it the next day."

Her eyes softened at his words, her lips pulling into a sad smile as his remained parted, eyes teary as they left her gaze and focused on his lap. “And then you got shot and I—“ The memories of everything that happened in the last two weeks rushing back to him. "I thought I had run out of next days.”

Her hand, which had been holding his against her cheek, shifted gently, cupping his cheek and wiping away the tear that had managed to escape his eyes.

With a sigh, he looked up to meet her eyes again, his own free hand coming up to hold the hand she now had on his cheek. He leaned into her touch, his head resting against her hand as she rubbed soothing circles against the stubble that had appeared after weeks of not shaving. “I adore you.”

His face inched closer to hers, resting his forehead against hers. "I’m fine with whatever you want as long as I'm able to have you in my life," he whispered, his warm breath brushing against her skin. "I love you so, so much. Always." With that, their foreheads separated and his lips moved up to plant a gentle kiss on her forehead.

The room fell silent, his words hanging in the air as she processed them. After another second, Spencer moved, standing up and letting her know that he was going to go get a nurse before quickly disappearing.

The nurses flooded her room with warmth and care, each one exuding kindness as they attended to her needs, explaining her situation, answering questions, and expressing relief that she was recovering well.

Spencer stood patiently by the door, his shoulder leaning against the frame as he observed the nurses with gratitude, thanking them as they left after ensuring everything was in order.

As the last nurse made her way to the door, she slowed her footsteps, casting a reassuring smile at Spencer. “I told you she’d be alright, sweetheart,” she said with a gentle tone.

Marisa, the lovely old nurse, had not only been concerned about his best friend’s well-being but also his. The genius could confidently say that, had it not been for Marisa, he probably would’ve starved in that hospital chair.

She would often stop by during her morning shift, offering reassurance that she would be alright, often bending a few hospital rules to make Spencer more comfortable, providing him with the comfiest blankets, or allowing him to take showers in the bedroom’s bathroom so he wouldn’t have to leave her side.

She also insisted on him taking breaks to get some fresh air, eat proper meals, and change his clothes, assuring him that if anything happened, she would call him immediately.

With a comforting squeeze to his arm, the nurse left, closing the door gently behind her and leaving the two of them alone in the room.

As he settled back into the familiar chair, their eyes met once more, exchanging a silent understanding. They sat in comfortable silence for a while, relishing each other's presence. Eventually, Spencer broke the quietude. "I should call the team," he suggested softly.

He rose from the chair, his hand diving into his pocket to retrieve his phone. With his back turned to her, he scrolled through his contacts, his foot shifting slightly as he prepared to step away.

Before he could get far, his movements halted by the touch of her hand on his arm, he lowered his phone and turned back to her, meeting her gaze with curiosity. "Wait," she said softly. With a nod, he returned his phone to his pocket, yielding to her gentle tug until he found himself seated by her side on the bed.

A grunt of discomfort escaped her lips as she struggled to sit up, reaching out for his hand for support. Once she was upright, she shifted closer to him. “What are- oomf—“ before he could finish, his question was cut off by the sudden press of her lips against his, her hands gripping the back of his head.

His body momentarily stiffened, eyes widening in surprise as he tried to process what was happening. When it finally clicked, the initial shock turned into a gentle surrender as he closed his eyes, allowing himself to be swept away by the warmth of her lips against his.

With a soft exhale, his hand instinctively rose to caress her cheek, pulling her face even closer to his and deepening the kiss.

If he had ever believed his heart couldn’t beat any faster than when in her presence, he stood corrected. Now, he was certain he was experiencing a heart attack.

His lips moved against hers so perfectly, as if they had kissed a thousand times before, as if their souls recognized each other instantly.

It was perfect, not because it was flawless, but because it felt so real.

He never wanted to stop; her lips were addicting, but when his lungs screamed at him for air, he reluctantly pulled his lips away from hers, resting his forehead against hers as they caught their breath.

“I love you too, Spencer.”

His head jerked back, eyes wide open as he looked at her, scanning her expression, looking for any hint that she was lying, only to find honesty shining through her eyes.

With a laugh, she took his face back in her hands, pulling him closer and pressing a quick kiss to his lips. “You have, and will always be the one my heart searches for in a world full of everyone else.”

With a toothy smile, he pulled her lips back to his, chuckling inwardly, as their lips met, acknowledging that if he thought he reached the peak before, he was mistaken again. His heart was racing faster than ever before. A heart attack of a different kind.

A heart attack that he’d gladly experience a million times more.

#spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #fanfiction #fluff

[cocobirdi]

𝐁𝐀𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐒 | CLAY

request. @BlueSpicaStar on wattpad

word count. 1.5k.

warnings. like three curse words. (not proofread)

info.  pre-trolls trilogy.

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"BroZone! BroZone! BroZone!"

You didn't even know why you were here, to be quite frank.

How, out of all the people your friend knew, did she decide you'd be the best pick to attend the silly concert with her? When, in your years of friendship, have you expressed even the slightest interest in BroZone? And why, out of all your options, did you agree to go?

You aren't a fan. You never were a fan; you could really care less about the band until she brought them up and then invited you to attend with her.

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"How do you not know BroZone? They are literally dominating the music industry as we breathe. There's merchandise and posters of them being sold everywhere—hello, even the grocery store sells merch! Way too expensive compared to other shops... and the material does not feel very great," she ranted, the energetic girl tapping at her cheek.

"But anyway, how do you not know them? Have you been living under a rock?"

Engrossed in the scrapbook under you, retelling the events of your day in the form of glitter and silly fuzzy drawings. You had barely paid any mind to her or her rambling, continuing to draw, cut, and paste away.

The truth is, you had actually heard of the band—hard not to when it's plastered everywhere—but due to your negligence in the conversation, you had been throwing mindless uh-huh's and uh-uh's without a second thought, giving misleading responses.

She called your name with a drawl, flicking your forehead.

"Ow," you mumbled, looking up at her with a pout at the attack. "What'd you do that for?"

This time your name was said in frustration, receiving a smack on your head instead, "I've been talking to you and you weren't listening. I am wasting precious vocals here that I could be instead saving for the concert!"

"What concert—ow!"

"BroZone." She deadpanned.

"Oh, I know BroZone." You looked back down at the scrapbook, glueing and pasting a little mini version of your friend. "Not a fan."

The biggest gasp ever came from the other girl, her hands dramatically coming up and covering her mouth in utter disbelief. With the way she was acting and the hurt on her face, anyone would've assumed that she'd been told someone was dead, and to her, you might as well be.

"Not a fan? How are you not a fan?"

Her eyes widened, and her hands came down to slam shut the book, keen on getting your undivided attention to focus on this very important issue.

"I don't know. Their music is kind of... bland. They're just like any other boyband out there."

"Bland? They are paving the way for music, unlike any band before." she grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks together. "Do you know what the family harmony is?"

"Duh. What, have they been able to achieve it? Because if so, then maybe they are as good as you're telling me."

"Not... yet." she hissed. "But soon!"

"For sure."

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Finally managing to escape the clutches of your friend, who held on to you for dear life, claiming that the concert was just about to start—which is exactly why you wanted to flee—using the excuse of having to use the bathroom. The screaming would no doubt burst your eardrums and the little sanity you had left.

You mindlessly wandered the mainly empty halls, unsure of where exactly the bathroom was.

The only trolls you found were some security and a few that rushed past you in a hurry, presumably late, compared to everyone else, to the show.

You were tempted to ask where the bathrooms were, but the intimidation of the dull and scary workers overcame that.

You glanced at the exit, a little voice inside your voice irking you to leave, escape it all. Would your friend really miss your absence that much? They'd probably be too enamored and lost in the band to notice.

A step was taken, but not for the exit, with your eyes catching the familiar sign of the restroom. Your lips curled up slightly at the sanctuary, rushing towards it.

It was a family restroom, and it probably wasn't going to be occupied by any families anytime soon; you took advantage of it's vacancy.

Or at least, you assumed it was vacant.

Your hand reached for the handle, gripping, only for it to be pulled without any force, the door almost hitting you right in the face if it weren't for fast reflexes.

"Oh sh*t, I'm so sorry. I didn't think anyone would be out here right now." The other troll spoke fast and anxiously, a hand cupping his face, like he was trying to hide from you.

You were spooked a bit by the sudden scare, unaware of the occupancy, but your racing heart slowly calmed down to its regular beat, offering a smile to calm the other's nerves.

"It's okay, me neither."

A turquoise troll with a yellow puffer jacket and hair, white shorts, and wristbands appeared, getting a good look at him. He didn't just sound nervous; he also looked nervous.

He glanced from the floor to you, "I mean, uh."

His entire person changed in a second; an attempt to look more confident than he actually is was made, a smug smile on his lips as he snapped his fingers, winking, "Just wanted to get away real quick."

Licking your lips, you raised a brow in confusion at the change of attitude and nodded slowly.

"That's nice..."

How do you kindly tell him to get the fuck out of your way so you can get into the bathroom?

His face dropped somewhat at your lack of reaction. A mixture of confusion, relief, and intrigue crossed his features.

"You don't know me?" He blurted, "You're strangely calm."

"No. I'm sorry, have we met before?"

He smirked, shaking his head softly, his tense shoulders dropping as he sighed, "No."

He leaned against the restroom doorframe, eyeing you with interest. "Most trolls would be losing their minds right about now. I'm Clay, by the way."

"Nice to meet you, Clay." You maintained a calm demeanor despite the strange encounter.

He paused, studying your face as if searching for something. "You're not here for the concert, are you? You seem a bit... out of place."

Your eyes shifted, avoiding a direct answer. "Let's just say I'm not the biggest BroZone fan."

His expression shifted, a playful look in his eyes. "Oh, not a fan of the greatest band in the world, are you?"

You chuckled and shook your head.

"I think that's an exaggeration."

Clay grinned, leaning in a bit closer. "They're not just a band; they're a family. They're all about family harmony. Once you get it, you'll understand."

He spoke as if he weren't part of the band himself, amusing both you and him.

Your eyebrow was raised in disbelief. "Family harmony? As in the unachievable? Sounds like a unique selling point."

He chuckled. "You'll see. Maybe you just need to experience it for yourself."

The crowd's cheering grew louder, catching both of you off-guard. His face dropped and he straightened up, putting distance between the two of you once more.

"That's my cue. See you later...?" He waved his hand, urging you for your name with a growing grin as he shimmied past you to the exit, allowing you entry into the bathroom.

"(Y/N)," you nodded. "And that's if I can even find you in that big ass crowd."

"Oh, you'll find me, alright."

And with a wink, he was gone, leaving you wanting for what he meant.

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Little did you know, you'd find out exactly what he meant the moment you made it back to your friend. She stood upset, scolding you for taking so long but also praising how you managed to make it back with perfect timing, the concert beginning the moment you arrived.

You groaned, smacking yourself in frustration.

As the concert echoed through the arena, you found yourself oddly drawn to the music, not because it was BroZone, but because there seemed to be a familiar dude on stage. The same one you had encountered in the bathroom just ten minutes ago.

Clay couldn't shake you from his mind.

Even with the crowd chanting his name, the band's name, their screeches deafening, he couldn't help but let his roaming eyes search for yours.

And then he found you.

You stared back up at him in disbelief, and your jaw dropped at seeing him on stage.

He was dancing and singing, and all the while, all his attention seemed to be on you and your reaction. He messed up the lyrics, a small laugh escaping, earning him an unnoticed glare from the leader of the group.

He winked again and smiled, the crowd going crazy for it, unbeknownst to its target.

At that moment, amidst the flashing lights and the cheers of the crowd, Clay fell in love. Not with the fame or the music, but with the unexpected connection he found with you.

He couldn't help but wonder how someone like you, who wasn't even a fan, could make him feel more alive than any crowd ever could.

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cocobirdie's tweets!

there you go. first oneshot :3. not sure how to feel lolll definitely an overused idea but i wasnt sure how to go about it and i may or not have gone through tumblr searching for an idea on how to make this work. might write a continuation in the far future once i manage to get through all the requests and get motivation again idk!!!

clay's definitely ooc and i know this is a kids movie so they should be silly but i like to think hes more mature off-stage. that is what he wanted/wants anyway right? explains the unsilliness. all the characters are probably gonna be ooc sjjsjdsh anyway yes :3 BAIIII.

#trolls band together #trolls #trolls x reader #trolls band together x reader #brozone #brozone x reader #clay x reader #brozone clay x reader #trolls clay x reader #hes so man

[justpoliteconversations]

Apple Merchant [BOTW!Link x Isekai!Reader] (Part 4)

Link learns some things. And so do you.

Yet another for the ever growing pile of self-indulgent garbage refuse. Enjoy the process of decomposition with me for a while.

Part 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

Alternate Extras: Embrace

Masterlist

TW: Choosing not to display warnings. Read at your own discretion.

Disclaimer: Don't own The Legend of Zelda franchise.

---

The yiga. A faction of Ganon worshipping traitors formerly of the Sheikah clan, whose main objective is to kill the Hero known as Link (in other words, himself). Known for their distinctive red body suits and white masks. And, strangely enough, their love of bananas.

They were also currently at the very top of Link's (until recently non-existent) shit list, because AM had deemed their threat level too great to allow them to meet each other freely. As Blue had told him, AM's profession placed them at greater danger than the average citizen to the assassins' blades. What that profession was, Link was not told (despite his pleading and intense stares and even one memorable attempt to bargain for the information), but it was deemed necessary to maintain distance because of this.

There were plenty of other useful things in the book too. Not a letter or a note or even a small bundle of documents. A book. An honest to Goddess book. Because there was nothing else the ridiculously thick, neatly piled collection of leather bound miscellaneous papers, maps, diagrams, notes and documents could be. It was the thickness of Link's hand for goodness sakes.

Thankfully, Blue had taken mercy on him (and his desire to get moving as soon as possible) and bookmarked the pages and maps that would be most useful to him. All while giving him that bland, graceful smile of hers and explaining that AM was a very proactive information gatherer, but that they didn't always consider that not everyone wanted to know the exact region Sneaky snails bred in or where the highest priced wheat could be found.

Link very deliberately didn't tell her that he did, in fact, find those very interesting topics to learn about (and that he would be reading through the entire book when he got the chance. later). Because he was still stung that she'd given him a condescending little smile (smirk, it was a damned smirk and Link knew it) when he'd tried to bargain with her for more information on AM.

In total, he'd spent three days in Hateno, gathering information (as though the book wasn't enough), gathering supplies (because as many as were in the slate, it didn't have everything a warrior would need to maintain his gear. Blue's words, not his) and getting to know the people around the area.

Also, armor. Costume fitted (Link didn't think too hard about how Blue had gotten his measurements) as to AM's specifications before they'd left town. The order arrived a little later due to his (apparently) small size causing complications with some of the straps.

Honestly, it felt good. It felt familiar with a hazy kind of comfort that spoke of his body's remembrance of such armor resting upon it often. And suddenly, in that moment, the thought that he had once been a knight didn't feel so far off, despite having no memory of it and very little desire to become as such again.

Ready to go (finally) he put on his boots, tightened the straps of his new (fitted. maybe he'd see about getting his Sheikah armor fitted as well if he was in the area) hyrulian armor set, and took one last shot before departing.

"Where can I get more bananas?" Link tried, going for casual but coming off far too intense for it to be anything but prying. "For the Yiga problem."

Blue just smiled (small and condescending, and so frustrating) before replying evenly. "AM has that well in hand I'd imagine." The knowing glint in Blue's eyes put a pout on Link's face. "It's best you focus on your mission, Courageous One." Then she smiled genuinely. Just a bit, but enough to ease Link's heart as she continued. "Fear naught for your beloved AM. No harm shall befall them while my sister haunts their shadow."

Link believed her. And with that little bit of reassurance, the Hero of Hyrule set out into the world once more. With courage in his heart and his goal ever at the forefront of his mind.

Defeat the Calamity guy. Meet AM. Travel this vast, wondrous world with them for the rest of their days. Or, maybe one day settle down more permanently in Hateno and open a food stand.

Anywhere life took them. Whatever you wanted. This was the beginning of his new life after all, and he was so eager to spend it with you.

---

You stared up at the quickly growing pile of bright yellow fruit with something like regret stabbing at your heart. Just thinking about how much rupees you were about to drop on this one purchase alone was enough to put a hitch in your throat. It was enough to have you contemplating a long walk off that equally long (absurdly long) wooden bridge just next to the stable.

When you'd stopped at Lakeside Stable for the night and told Adino you'd pay him market price for any bananas he brought back to you before you left. You hadn't expected him to take that as a challenge. You hadn't expected Skims to get involved in it as well. And you most certainly had not expected Red to show up out of nowhere with a pile rivaling (and maybe even surpassing) Adino's.

And thus, within the span of a few short hours, you were suddenly several thousand rupees poorer (not that that pantry amount even scratched the surface of your accumulated wealth, but you digress) and many, many bananas richer.

At least they tasted good.

"Not that I'm against your presence. But why are you here, Red?" You asked the red clad woman after (with a heavy heart) passing out everyone's pay for the bananas they'd brought you. (Skims and Red didn't even have the grace to look ashamed for muscling in on the quick profit either, the jerks.)

She didn't even pause from where she'd been fingering through her newly acquired (ill gotten) gains when she hummed playfully. "Oh. Gran thought it'd be wise to send along a little extra protection to ensure The Hero's benefactor remained unmolested during these most crucial of times."

The look on your face must have been confused enough to spur Red to explain. "Gran told us to keep you in the dark about our motivations, but I like you. So I'll tell you the truth, since you seem like the reasonable sort." She finally put the rupees down and turned to face you, eyes hardening into a serious shade of near black as she explained.

"The Hero is without his memory, and until recently, was without motivation to see his mission through with the urgency it requires. Had he been as he was before, just the mention of the Princess would have been enough to send the guy running, if you believe the rambling of nostalgic old gossip crows." Her lips twisted into something too complicated to decipher before it was neutral again.

"But he's not the man he used to be. He's not the princess's knight anymore for all his destiny would push him to be. And so, he needed a new motivation to get him moving." She gave you a smile, but it wasn't a nice one (it was one full of spite and pity, though only the pitying part was directed at you). "That's you. The guy loves you already. Call it situational stockholm or just that damned knightly instincts of his, but you are the apple of his eye." She tried to soften her smile into something humorous, but it fell short.

"Bottom line. You're the replacement motivation. Just until he gets enough of his memories back to get invested in the Princess' wellbeing." She flicked a rupee off the stump she'd gathered them on, expression very closed off as she continued.

"Whenever Mr. hero gets a little too comfortable playing house, we're supposed to dangle you in his face and get him interested again. That you seem invested in his success was just a bonus. Be it the Will of Hylia or just simple coincidence, doesn't matter. You're useful, and if it gets the Princess out of that Hell, we're willing to use that."

Another smile, sharp but honest. "It's our duty after all, to serve the royal family. I'm sure you understand." Despite the way the information settled sourly in your stomach you nodded, keeping your expression as even as possible.

She noticed though, and suddenly her hand was on yours (you hadn't noticed it tightening into a fist). "Don't fret, Apples." She smiled again, softer this time. Eyes lighted with a compassion that held such raw honesty despite her earlier words. "My sister and I are not going to let the elders use you like that. You might have asked yourself why Bluey isn't here instead, since, you know-" She smirked, side-eyeing Adino who'd gone some distance off to try to find more bananas (to take more of your rupees, the little bastard).

"We will fulfill our duties. For the protection of Hyrule and everything we love. But not at your's or your dear Hero's expense. At least, not like that. You see, Bluey has something I do not, and that is a gentle touch. She'll take care of the Hero in the way he needs, not the way that'll get the fastest results." Her smirk widened. "And she's got more of a rebellious streak than me too. Trust in her. She'll protect your dear Hero. Even if she has to spit in the elders' eyes to do it. She never could put her heart aside for the sake of duty."

You were silent for a time, digesting her words with the weight and attention they deserved, before looking back to her. A smile on your lips, and your hand out before her in the gesture of a shake.

"I look forward to doing business with you then, Red." You began, letting the edge of your resolve sharpen your eyes and embolden your words. "Let's do our best to protect Link and save Zelda. We'll give it everything we've got."

Red grinned, full and bright and smug (so unbearably smug, like she had won the lottery. which they didn't have here, and you were not interested in introducing any time soon either). "I knew you were gonna understand. The Goddess wouldn't choose just anyone to guard her chosen's heart."

You blinked. "What?"

Red picked up another rupee, flicking it at you. "What~?"

---

Now, off to work! And then the shadows to rest.

#botw link #botw x reader #link x you #link x reader #isekai reader

[the-badger-mole]

Facultative

It seemed like every day of travel got longer. Even now with Katara and Zuko coming to a peaceful resolution to their issues, the tension hadn't broken over the group.

"Once we get to Ember Island, it'll get better," Suki promised them all. "My troop got antsy like this when we were on duty, too. We just need a break, that's all." This was met with grumbles of disbelief, but Aang was grateful that someone other than him was trying to be the voice of optimism. That role usually fell to Katara, but she had been quiet and withdrawn since she and Zuko had come back from finding Yon Rah. Oddly enough, only Zuko seemed to be able to get more than a few words from her at a time. When they stopped for rest, they would often end up slightly away from the group, falling into hushed conversations, broken up by Zuko occasionally running to get her a drink or a snack, or to handle a chore Katara usually did. She assured her friends she was fine, though. Just tired.

That was the over all sentiment of the rest of the group, too. Even Appa was showing signs of strain. Aang scratched his friend's neck with a concerned frown. They would have to rest that night. They'd all been hoping to make it to Ember Island by nightfall, but Aang knew he couldn't keep pushing his flying bison the he had been. He told the rest of his friends and was met with groans and complaints, and then grudging acceptance. Aang steered Appa toward a small island. It was barely big enough for the name, but there were shrubs and a grasses and small trees, hinting at fresh water nearby.

Once everyone had slid down from Appa's saddle, Aang set to making him more comfortable. He loosened the saddle, promising Appa that he would remove it completely once they made it to Ember Island and wouldn't have to leave for a while. Then, while the others set up camp, Aang wandered around with Appa, looking for a good place for him to graze. Appa stopped every so often to munch on some of the grass growing up from the greyish soil, but he didn't seem terribly interested in it. At one point, Appa stopped under a tree. It was a youngish tree, with tender green branches. This Appa eyed hungrily, but Aang gasped and nudged Appa gently.

"No, Appa," he said, pointing at one of the branches his friend had been eyeing. There was a bird's nest with new hatched chicks chirping loudly. The mother bird flew in and stood on the edge of the nest, trilling angrily at Appa. Aang chuckled and nudged Appa again, urging him gently to move on. But Appa didn't move to Aang's surprise. Then to Aang's horror, Appa leaned up, mouth opened wide, and chomped down on the branch, nest, chicks, and bird all. Before Aang could say another word, Appa began chewing, silencing the muffled tweets and chirps. Aang gagged at the sound of crunching, knowing that some of it was bones.

"Appa..." Aang gasped. Appa turned one large brown eye on his boy and kept chewing, thoroughly unbothered. Aang felt a flush creep up his neck and to his cheeks. He grabbed Appa's reins and tugged him back to camp. "That was bad, Appa! I can't believe you did that! Come on, we're going back to camp, and you can eat the grass where I can see you."

Appa groaned in protest, tugging against his reins trying to get back to the tasty tree, but Aang was persistent, and Appa didn't want to hurt him. He allowed the boy to lead him back to camp where there was little to eat except the bland, dry grass. The others looked up in surprise when Aang arrived back, still scolding Appa.

"What happened?" Sokka asked. Aang, still fuming, tied Appa's reins to a boulder.

"He ate a nest of birds!" Aang told his friends, outraged. When they exchanged confused glances, Aang rolled his eyes. Of course, they wouldn't get it. Aang could smell the meat they'd begun roasting for dinner.

"Appa is a vegetarian," Aang said, by way of explanation. More glances went through the group, this time more uncomfortable than confused.

"Well, sure," Katara said hesitantly. "For the most part." Aang turned to her, stunned.

"What do you mean for the most part?" he demanded.

"Well..." Katara shrugged, looking at her friends for help. "Well, it's just that Appa has eaten meat before."

"No he hasn't!" Aang scoffed. "Appa's been a vegetarian for his whole life!"

"I've seen him eat meat before," Katara told Aang gently. "Many times."

"Appa's been sneaking meat and you didn't tell me?" Aang gaped at Katara in horror.

"He hasn't been sneaking it," Katara said. "Last week he ate a rock squirrel. He caught it right where I was setting up my tent."

"I saw him catch and eat a tree hare," Sokka offered helpfully. "He's actually a pretty good hunter for his size."

"He catches a lot of animals just grazing on grass," Toph said with a shrug. "I thought you knew."

"Of course, I didn't know!" Aang shouted. "If I knew, I would have put a stop to it!"

"Aang," Zuko spoke up. "You do know that most animals eat meat, at least occasionally, right? Even the ones that live off of plants eat meat sometimes."

"Not flying bison!" Aang insisted. "Not Appa." He turned to his friend, who was grazing lazily. Appa didn't seem to have a care at all. Not about eating meat, not about how betrayed Aang felt. Aang stood watching him in stunned silence. Then he felt a warm slender arm slip around his shoulders.

"Hey," Katara said gently. "Why don't you come sit and calm down. I made you lentils and wild rock tubers." Aang allowed her to steer him away from Appa. Toph went in behind him and freed Appa from the boulder. He grunted at her gratefully before lumbering over to a small, green bush to graze. Suki and Sokka stood behind Aang, as if to shield him from the sight while Katara and Zuko gave him his dinner and a cup of water.

"You want a blanket?" Katara asked. Aang shook his head, but Katara went over to find one just in case. Zuko patted his back in a way that was intended to be comforting, but just felt stiff and awkward.

"I know how you feel about eating meat," he said. "But you have to understand that you not eating meat is a choice, and animals don't have the ability to make that choice. When they eat, it's based on instinct.

"Appa's not just some animal," Aang held stubbornly.

"I know he's not," Zuko said. "He's your friend, and he's very smart compared to a lot of other animals. But he is still an animal. It's his nature to eat what he needs when he needs it. It doesn't change anything about him."

Aang disagreed, but he knew he'd find no support among his friends. The problem, he convinced himself, was that Appa was now living with meat eaters. Aang could admit to himself that he, too, got curious about meat from time to time. No wonder Appa had, too. All Aang needed to do was keep a closer eye on his friend and keep him from making poor choices. After all, the monks had told him that flying bison, like airbenders, got their abilities from keeping pure. He would keep Appa away from meat for his own good.

Across the clearing, Appa had moved onto a new bush. This one had the most deliciously tart berries. Appa paused midchew and nosed the ground beneath the bush. He could smell a seagrouse nest nearby. Maybe if he was lucky, he'd get another bird before they had to leave the island.

#atla #appa #aang learns the concept of facultative herbivores #circle of life #zutara #mostly in subtext but still #inspired by a casual geographic video

[ikkosu]

Archie's @archie-sunshine knightformer's prowl brain rot (drabble) inspired by @pinkanonwrites I am so soft for him.

(this was supposed to be tagged along with the drawing but I forgor omghr🙉)

Little fairy would stick to prowl like glue : perching on his shoulders, tugging on his cape even though he explicitly states he does not like it.

They're such pests. So playful, always petty and, unfortunately, even his bland disposition is unspared as he managed to nabbed one of their attention.

"Space. I need space." He'd clip out and a little waggle of his hands would try (gently ) to deter them elsewhere.

Fairy only latched onto his fingers, breedling with a huge smile before proceeding to do exactly what he had told them not to : invading his space.

"Oh, for — Primus's sake. I don't have time for this."

Though, despite his chastise, he never says a word when they'd burrow on the spot between his shoulder and the underside of his chin.

He finds the little bundle of warmth, purring and nestling on the crook of his neck, a sedative to his usual taut, coiled-up irritation to the world.

And, he'd relent, a finger tapping on their plush little cheeks as they squeal and play around with his hand.

In his office, he'd built a mini-fairy spot just for them, since they're so hell-bent on following him everywhere ( fairy followed him almost seven miles without his knowledge when he was travelling from village to village for a job)

That's the most concerned kind of look you can get out of prowl.

While he's tinkering away at his paperwork, from his periphery, the sparkled puffs of yellow would dart around in their make-shift fairy abode.

Paper work would be an excruciating endeavor if not for his little companion keeping him sane. They'd waddle across his desk, pushing his quill pens neatly into place, arranging his documents and stationaries Prowl doesn't seem to mind. In fact, as long as they don't bother his work — fairy is welcomed to stay.

"That's a little too heavy, no?" He raises a brow at the sound of strained huffing.

Fairy, with their whole body against an inkpot, struggles to push it to where it lays below his hand. For better reaching, he assumes.

"Keep going, then." He muses and doesn't notice the scrunched up pout darted his way.

Sometimes when his migraine wouldn't let up, he'll saunter over to the alcove and observes the little fairy as they potter away.

If they're not asleep, often times they'll breedle and chatter off to him as though they know the same language. often times prowl just nods and follow what they tell him to do : like, say, planting mini-ferns in their mini-garden.

And, he'll have to just make a hole with a simple tap of his index. Fairy seems incredulously envious of that.

If they're asleep, gently, they're scooped into his palms and he'd saunter to his bedroom where he nestles them on the plush cushion of the blanket. He kicks of his boots, put down his sword and after changingi nto something comfortable, he goes under the covers.

With fairy close to his neck, his hand gently curls over them like shelter and slumber drifts them off, and away, to sleep.

#i want more stuff on this man #prowl yearning hours #PROWL YEARNING HOURS #transformers #maccadam #transformers x reader #prowl x reader #idw prowl #transformers idw

[hoseokslefteyebrow]

Imagine your dad being a Miguel O’Hara variant and meeting Miguel pt.2

Pairing : Platonic! Miguel O'Hara x Earth Bender Reader x Spiderverse

I am back with my rant. anyway, it’s pt.2 to this,

Wordcount: 1.3k

Miguel O’Hara Masterlist

OKAY SO

We're back on the rant.

Because someone (cough @arianaw30) commented about how Miguel would also be like a dad to Y/N whilst Miguel 2, her actual dad, is on a mission.

And I totally agree. 

Like imagine Miguel 2 being sent out on a mission and Y/N just deciding to hang out at HQ for the day. And this mission is on a regular week day so most teen spiders and regular spider people would be out and about in their regular lives.

Which leaves Y/N with Miguel. (And her bestie Ben Reilly, but he sleeps until it's practically night, soo-)

I can also imagine that Y/N received their own gizmo. And that they'd hack it. Because although they might hate actually learning stuff because they simply can't sit still, they are still very intelligent. Like they'd mess around with the colours, and as a bender with the surrounding pieces of metal as well. They'd definitely change the colour of the screen and remodel the whole thing, complaining before that it looks a little bland and boring.

Miguel would surprisingly be okay with it as well. He didn't make it to look specifically nice, more because it'd be useful. And he's got a soft spot for you. If it were anyone else he'd be yelling already.

Miguel 2 would also have told you bits about Miguel back at home. Like he would have told you that he's cold because he lost people close to him. He does leave out how one of those people was a variant of you.

Miguel and Miguel 2 are very different in taking care of you. Miguel 2 is the type to leave you be until you royally mess up, because he knows you best. Miguel himself is more the overprotective type, refusing to let you go on a mission, and also not to keen on having anyone spar with you.

Anyway, whenever it's mainly just the two of you, you keep him company. And although you're not a kid, you're surprisingly easily amused. (That's also because technology isn't as far advanced in your world as it is in his.) You can talk for hours on end with both Lyla and Miguel. Once Miguel asked how you don't feel offended when he's grumpy or particularly agressive, and you replied with a confused cock of your hand and the exact words 'what do you mean? You're my dad, of course I know you better than anyone.' And although you're technically not 100% his, he realizes you're right. Because Miguel 2 and Miguel are generally the same, save for a specific few details.

And I can also imagine Miguel keeping a closer eye on Ben Reilly when the two of you grow even closer. Neither of you have feelings for one another, your personalities simply bounce off one another with ease. Miguel still can't help himself, Just the classic 'don't marry until you're old type'.

Everything does come to tension when you're hanging out with Ben one day, and your dad, Miguel 2, calls for back up desperately. The call is through Ben's watch, because you're technically forbidden to interfere as you're no spider person. But you're stubborn, double so as you're from the Earth kingdom and an O'Hara. And so you of course jump anyway, sending yourself into this new universe.

You don't bother appreciating the beauty of this universe, instead choosing to directly go looking for your dad. And you're quick to find him, under a tentackle of doc ock. A villain your powers give you an advantage of, as the man has a lot of metal on him.

Now imagine Doc Ock's surprise when you rip off his tentackle with a few precise movements of your body.

There were already two spider people on his ass (your father and Peter B Parker), and now you've also joined. 

Now the battle continues mostly with Doc Ock focused on you, and with you setting his 'tentackles' stuck in the ground, bending them to be unmoveable one by one. Your Miguel is already back on his feet and on his way to you, but meanwhile Peter B Parker is completely and utterly amazed by your performance here. (He hasn't met you yet.)�� 

Dock Ock has a lot of arms, and eventually he manages to bring a scratch on your face. Not much more, because that was his last tentackle. Unhappy with his doing, you create a ninja star out of lava, and cut this arm off, before whacking him in the face with it. You're not merciless though, so you bend his tentackle arm closed to keep him from making a mess with the fluids that run out of it, closing it off.

Miguel 2 pulls you behind him roughly after that, trapping the man in their odd red prison thingy. Cue a little while later when you're in Miguel's lab with a few stitches in your face, and not one, but two dads being mad at you. 

For the first time, they agree on why they're mad at you; you weren't supposed to be there. The both of them yell in that classic angry dad type of way for a bit, before they eventually calm down. And than they grow all soft when you softly whisper out a 'I didn't want to lose you too.' Breaking their hearts just a bit. And Miguel 2 crouches down to where you're seated comfortably on the ground and simply hugs you, telling you he never would and that you would be okay. All you do is hum in reply, and Miguel 2 messes up your hair as he often does affectionately before seeing the look on Miguel's face and giving you two space by leaving, claiming he needs a shower (you agree).

Miguel doesn't really know what to say, but he wants to comfort you aswell. Eventually he settles with telling you that if something were to happen to your dad, you'd still have a home here in the society. You hum, before looking up at him, a question clear in your eyes. When he tells you to ask away, you fill his heart with a kind of pride that he hasn't felt in a long while. You ask him if you could follow in his footsteps. You want to work in the society as well, and be able to do what he's able to do, admitting that you look up to him. And he smiles in that kind of way he only dies around you, nodding and telling you he'll teach you his ways.

Miguel might have lost a daughter once, but it seems he's gained one along the way as well.

#miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara fanfic #dad miguelo'hara #platonic miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x daughter reader #spiderman across the spider verse #spider man 2099

[adventuringblind]

Drive With You Forever

Chapter Thirteen: Find Me Always

Max Verstappen x Charles Leclerc x Lando Norris x Reader x Oscar Piastri

Chapter summary: the aftermath of the escape

Warnings: depictions of abuse, medical malpractice, creepy doctor does creepy things, nightmares, panic attacks, restraints, medical terminology that is probably wrong, injury description, needles

Notes: I’m having fun with this 👀

Previous <-

Masterlist

Heat. The cozy feeling of warmth. His hand intertwined with one of his lovers. It's a great way to wake up. Even for being stuck in the hospital.

He knows where he is based on the steady hum and beep of machines. The scratchy feeling of the sheets beneath him. The bright florescent lights that make him want to cringe.

He looks to his hand. Max is slumped over his bed. The Dutch snoring quietly.

He shifts around to get his bearings. A few plain paintings of the wall. A decently sized window. Bland colored walls.

He tries not to think about what happened. He'd woken up several times in the bunker to gunshots. Moved them to a different corridor. Then fell back into a cold sleep.

They'd run into trouble at one point. A stray bullet grazed his side while another punctured the females thigh.

That was the last time they moved as he did his best to stop the bleeding. No healing to rely on. Not that he'd want her to anyways, 'healing' really just means transferring his wounds onto her.

Speaking of her, where is she?

He can't go through this again. She'd woken up spurratically a few times during the escape attempt. She'd told him it would be okay. Her voice was the only thing he had to cling to.

The heart monitor picks up his rising pulse, Max waking up at the sound of rapid beeping. "Breathe, Oscar, you're safe now." He's gentle and quiet and everything people don't get to see when he drives. He does as told and takes some deep breaths.

"Are you feeling okay? Should I go get a doctor?" Oscar finally realizes that doctors and medicine are involved. That means more needles and more drugs. He'd had enough of that. He shakes his head now as the fear rises. "Okay, you're okay, I'm Here, and I won't leave."

"How is everyone else?" His voice is so scratchy he almost doesn't recognize it. The fact that he's in desperate need of water doesn't help.

Max shakes his head in disbelief. "You're the one sitting in a hospital bed, and you're concerned about us?" Max rubs comforting circles into his hand. "Seb dragged Charles and Lando away for food and showers. I'm next after them."

"Where's y/n?"

Max's face drops, and there is a distant look in his eyes. "Who?"

"Y/N? Our girlfriend? The one who boggles us with her mind powers on a daily basis?" He laughs thinking Max is joking. Only for it to twist into concern when he realizes Max isn't laughing.

"I think you're still disoriented. Your crash was really bad."

Crash? What crash? "I was in a bunker or something."

Max's confusions into concern. "I think I'm going to go get the doctor."

Oscar is frantic now. He's pulling out the needles feeding him liquid medicine. Convinced this is the problem. That he's hallucinating again because of the drugs.

He's waking up again. The same postion as last time. But this time, he takes no chances.

He sits himself upright and begins pulling everything off. The needles, the bandages, anything medical related is being ripped from his body.

Max is startled by the sight. His hands grab Oscar's and gently push him back into the bed. He coos calming phrases while Oscar gives up fighting. His lack of energy hitting like a train.

"Please tell me you remember her." He practically sobs.

Max sits in the bed with him. That confused look is almost identical to the previous, and Oscar wants to die because of it. His confusion is replaced by a smile. "I could never forget our girl."

"Where is everyone else? Where is she? I need to see her, Max."

Max sighs at the Aussie's urgency. "Charles and Lando are trying to see her. I can't because I punched someone last time I went to check on her."

"What- why?"

"The doctors found abnormalities in her DNA, and now they've isolated her."

Frantic pleas of the word no fall from his lips like somehow that will change something. Oscar barely has a chance to really notice how tired Max looks. The stress in his blue eyes tells him that the whole situation is bad.

"I'm not sure if this will be good news for you right now. But you've been cleared to race as soon as you want to go back. After they release you, of course." Max throws him a pity smile. It's the best the Dutch can offer at the moment.

~

She traded one white cell for another. One maniacal scientist for an entire group of them.

She's been restrained and leashed since her latest escape attempt. She wants to go home. She needs to go home.

At least she knows they are all okay. Oscar is alive, and that's what matters. She put every drop of energy she had into keeping alive in those tunnels. She heard the gunshots and took the opportunity. It just sucked they'd been continuing her father's work, and she had been worked to the bone only an hour earlier.

She complied on the basis that they took care of Oscar. She got to go check on him every couple of days. He wasn't coherent, but he was alive. There was a chance they could both make it out.

Then she exerted herself into healing him. She knew that regardless, her body wasn't going to last long, and healing him was their best shot. But she hadn't expected the drugs to be so strong. She could flush them all out of his system. Then there were the freezing tunnels. They did that on purpose to keep her from being able to run. The floors were so cold they burned her.

She pushed through. Before she got to Oscar, she went to the one thing that would for sure get them out of there if she couldn't. She found a phone and called Seb. She almost cried at the sound of his voice, but she couldn't. She needed to tell him where they were.

And they had found them in the cold depths.

Now she's here. Alone and stuck again.

Fate is a cruel mistress.

Her doctor, whose name she does not care to know, comes in with a tray. It's routine at this point. He has done this every hour for the two days she's been here. She wasn't awake for all of it, but the market on her body are all similar.

She has no choice but to let him go about his work.

"Your body is so intriguing, my dear." His voice is cold and smooth. She hates it.

Lando and Oscar have smooth voices. She likes them better. She misses listening to Landos laugh.

Charles and Max have deep voices. They have a calming effect on her. She naturally is able to relax when she hears them speak.

She focuses on that as the doctor opens up a small slit in her arm and tweezes away at different things. Then he sews it up and bandages it like he's done this a million times.

But he doesn't move.

"I wish they would let me look at more of you." He whispers. His index finger traces the curves of her side and all the way down her leg. "If only this stupid gown wasn't in the way."

He leaves without another word. Or maybe there are more words, but she retreated into her mind. Far away from this place and into her memories with her family.

~

Charles looks like he's ready to punch someone. She's awake and coherent, and they are only isolating her because of her odd DNA. It's most likely the reason for her powers, but they don't need to know that.

Max isn't here because he has already punched someone. Lando is attempting to calm him down and as much as the Brit tries he just can't seem to get his heart to slow.

Good thing Seb is on his way with legal work. He'd contacted his lawyer as soon as he found out they were holding her in isolation. Unable to see anyone after what she just came out of.

Seb was bringing an answer.

It's a beautiful sight to see him March right by the two and into some office they assumed was the person in charge.

"Charles, please breathe. I'm already panicking and can't keep the both of us calm."

"I'm sorry chéri." He sighs. The Monegasque takes a seat beside Lando. The two intertwine their hands together. Charles decides to change the subject to distract themselves and pass the time until they can see her. Even if it's a no, he's breaking down the door.

"What should the first thing we do be when we get back home?"

"Food. A buffet of our favorite cheat meals." Lando lets hints of a smile ghost his lips.

"Then we'll cuddle in bed."

"And play some games."

"Maybe a bath."

"You mean relax in the hot tub together? The bath isn't big enough for all of us." Charles teases.

"Same thing."

Charles crinkled his nose in disgust. "You need a bath. You smell like a young boy who has yet to learn hygiene."

Lando playfully hits his shoulder. "That's rude. You should be ashamed of yourself."

The sound of the office door opening steals both their attention. Seb comes out with a grin on his face, alerting the boys that he is victorious.

The nurses let them into the room as they started removing her hospital dressings. Both Lando and Charles hate the sight and want to break because of it, but they don't. They stay strong. Well- Charles more then Lando.

The girl, on the other hand, is struggling to get to them. She fights her restraints, only hurting herself worse in the process.

"Slow down, amour. They have to get them off of you." Charles is holding her in a way that let's the nurses do their job. They shoot him an appreciative glance.

"Is Oscar okay? Are you guys okay?" She asks with an air of urgency.

"Yes, we're all okay, Oscar has even been cleared to race again. Somehow, the damage to his body wasn't even close to yours." Lando eyes her knowingly, and she just shrugs at him.

She walks out with them but gets into Sebs car.

"I don't think we'll ever be safe." She admits.

"Maybe not. But someone will always be there to find you when you can't find them."

~

Home is once again a new place. They have once again moved apartments.

She'd learned Daniel helped out while they were missing. He found then a place with the best security and moved a good chunk of furniture with Pierre and Sergio. The other three boys getting any personal belongings out of the wrecked apartment.

Oscar hadn't let go of her hand. He's been glued to her side and paranoid about every stranger they come across.

Recovery for him was going to be long and difficult, but they would be there every step of the way.

The return to racing had been amazing. The McLaren fans were so supportive and excited to see Oscar back. His family didn't know everything that happened, and that was for the best.

They just got unlucky is all.

He managed a P4 with the new car upgrades. He felt his brain finally to think about something else as soon as he got into the car.

Lando also got second. Another thing to celebrate. The after race hugs were something special.

She realized that day that her life had been far from easy, and it's not going to get easier, but it didn't matter. At the end of the day, she gets to come back to the people she loves and love her back.

No matter how far away she gets from them, they will always find her.

~

Next ->

Tags: @styles-sunflower @purplephantomwolf @boiohboii @reblog-princess-blog @jjsprobablywrong @jayda12 @faithm120601 @eugene-emt-roe @lpab @yaaadii @80sloverry @spongebeck3101 @eviethetheatrefreak @chanshintien @vellicora @hollie911 @pretty-little-bunny382728

#x reader #fanficion #f1 fic #formula one #formula 1 #racing #angst #max verstappen #f1 fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #lando norris #max verstappen x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc #lando norris x reader #formula racing #max verstappen x y/n #max verstappen x you #mclaren formula 1 #redbull racing #charles leclerc fic #mclaren racing #lando norris f1 #scuderia ferrari #oscar piastri x y/n #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri f1 #oscar piastri #mclaren f1 #mclaren

[artist-emerald]

Trolls Villain dialogue idea

Poppy: Artificial Trolls? Replacing us? Revenge? Why are you doing this?

Villain: Let me...scrap you a book, your majesty. A young creature, born amongst the Trolls, gray and bland. They learn to play instruments and all the songs to go with them. All so they could fit in. Because this little creature couldn't sing or dance like the Trolls could. Sure, they looked like a Troll. Could play like a Troll. Could do everything they could to pretend to be a Troll. But deep down, they knew that weren't a Troll. That I'm not a Troll.

Poppy: Is this seriously all because you can't sing or dance!? You kidnap my boyfriend and I, and then threaten us with those creepy fakes! All because you're jealous!?

Villain: THAT'S NOT JUST THE REASON! I trapped you both because the two of you have gotten in my way too many times!

Poppy: Wh-what are you talking about?

Villain: I've been working for a long time to cement myself as the only ruling performer in the world, and in order to do that I had to get rid of the Trolls one way or another.

Poppy: I don't understand.

Villain: Who do you think led the first Bergen to the Pop Trolls? Told them that eating one would grant them happiness? Who do you think gave Queen Barb the idea to bring all the strings together again, knowing full well they'd get destroyed? How do you think Velvet and Veneer learned they could steal a Troll's talent to gain fame and fortune?

Poppy: No.

Villain: Then you and your precious little boyfriend ruined all of it! But not this time. With my artificial Troll army, the world and it's stage will be mine and mine alone.

#trolls #dreamworks trolls #queen poppy #poppy #branch #villain #trolls villain #idea #dialogue #broppy #implied broppy

[anotherofmanyflowers]

LYNEY DRABBLE CUZ I HAVE AN ENGLISH TEST TMR, THIS IS MY WAY OF PRACTICING, ENJOY <3 (SORRY IF I MESSED SUM UP, I DIDNT READ HIS LORE YET)

This does feature some sensitive topics, pls be warned ⚠️

He knew you from the start.

The days in the house of the Hearth were fairly boring, the only excitement he felt was caused by fights breaking out in between the other children, but even the fights didn't last too long. If kids were to misbehave, they'd be struck back into their rightful places. He didn't care for a single other kid in that orphanage, the only exception being Lynette and Freminet, but he couldn't always be around them. Even they needed some alone time. But it gets boring being alone. There's only so many times he can throw a ball against the wall until he doesn't wanna catch it anymore. It was all boring and bland- until it wasn't. U were a breath of fresh air, fresh air that Lyney didn't even know he longed for. U were the sun behind the clouds that just managed to appear, a sun he didn't even know he was missing. He found it inspiring how u could stay so confident, so happy, when all the other faces around you were most definitely depressed. U were eccentric, unlike anyone he's ever seen before. U were supportive, cheering him up if he ever failed a magic trick infront of u, even tho he tried not to. He found solace in your smile, in your hug, in your eyes, in your everything.

But bliss doesn't last that long. Before he knew it- u were gone. He almost had a mental breakdown when he heard the news- no, when he saw the news. There wasn't that happy smile there to greet him every morning, there wasn't a hug anymore, and the worst part was that no one knew where u went. But he was sure they didn't even care, they were all the same faces, same thoughts- He thought about the police. Why couldn't they investigate? But alas, the answer came to him so soon, and so depressing. They were orphans. No parents, no siblings, no family, no one. Why would the police care about finding an orphan when they've got bigger fish to fry? But no matter how hard the days seemed to be, he was glad he still had his siblings. U were just an old friend, one he'll never see again..

Or atleast that's what he thinks.

U don't remember the earlier years of ur life, but u didn't try to remember. The only thing that mattered was finishing the job ur client requested of u. Be it an assassination, be it a robbery, u did everything for the right price. From what u heard, in ur childhood u were kidnapped and then sold and sold and sold so many times that u just stopped counting, or atleast that's what they told u. The person in question was the old retired Dr Kian, or as he told u to call him, grandpa. Kian was the first person that ever showed u kindness when all u were greeted with was cruelty. He took u in the night he found u crying by a lamppost in the middle of the night, right after u managed to escape from one of the people that bought u. He was there for u and he tried offering u a normal childhood, but u were far past ever being able to experience anything normally again. He saw the dullness in your eyes, he saw the strained smile u offered others when being polite, he saw how u never laughed along with the other kids, choosing to sit by a bench and stare out, as if zoning out will somehow bring back the childhood wonder u wished u had again.

U were cold, unwavering in your emotionless glares. It was only natural u found yourself in the world that hurt u so much- back where only crimes surfaced. U didn't even know when u trained urself with a blade, but it came naturally, as if u were born with it. U took ur first request when u were only 13. A simple robbery. U managed to get everything ur client wanted and came out with minor bruises. But u hid them well. Well everytime, u never even dreamed of telling Dr Kian of your late night outings, but u doubt he'd even notice, his hearing was getting worse.

U moved to Fontaine the second u were 18. U didn't want to leave Kian behind like that, but the jobs in Fontaine paid a lot more, so u managed to convince urself and make ur way to Fontaine. Kian tried to reason with u, but u wouldn't budge. It isn't that u didn't care for him, he was ur only family, it's just that at this point, nobody could change ur mind, sometimes u urself couldn't change ur mind. And u did make quite a name for urself in the illegal underworld of Fontaine. They called u "the Golden thief", u guess paying extra for the gold case for ur gun did make a difference.. As much as u hated to admit it, the fame of ur actions brought u solace. If the world turned its back to you, at the end of the day, ud still be the agent everybody wanted to employ, u were on top of the game, even if that game was more than illegal.

It was late into the night, the only thing accompanying you being the moonlight. U successfully finished yet another request, now just wanting to go home and relax. U didn't bother going out for any of the trials or shows, they didn't interest u. The only time u were willing to go out was for work, or if u forgot to buy dinner on ur way home. There wasn't anyone on the streets at this hour, everyone already sleeping peacefully in their homes. U were stopped in the middle of your walk from a sudden meow. U looked down and found a cat carefully walking towards u, black fured with a bow tied on its tail. It looked well fed, and was even wearing a small tophat. Despite the cold appearance u had, u couldn't resist petting the cat. U were petting it with a slight ghost of a smile on your face until u found urself stopped mid-motion yet again. A voice suddenly called out, and before u knew it, the cat was gone from your petting and now in the arms of a man that suddenly appeared before u. It took him a while to realize u were there, spending the time telling his cat to not run off like that while u watched from the sidelines. And when he did notice u, his eyes widened a fair amount, but he quickly regained his composure. He introduced himself as Lyney, "the worlds greatest magician!" which managed to make a small smile appear on ur face. He then thanked u for finding his beloved cat, and just as quickly as the familiar boy appeared, he was gone again. But when u placed ur hands back in ur pockets, u found something made of paper inside. U pulled the paper out, revealing front row tickets for Lyney and Lynettes magic show.

Authors note: this wasn't proofread and I wrote it bc my English like writing test is tmrw, wish me luck if ur reading this the minute I'm writing it. Hope u liked reading this, I kinda made everything up while writing it. HEARTT💙💙💙

#lyney and lynette #lyney #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #lyney x reader #lyney x y/n #lyney x you #drabble #fanfic #fypシ #lyney x gender neutral reader #lyney x gn reader #fontaine #fontaine genshin #fontaine x reader #fontaine x you

[fallenwhumpee]

Is Traitor getting more parts? I love your writing!!!!

That means a lot <3 Here you go anon!

Traitor

• Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Masterlist •

Warnings: Sickfic, angst, recovery, broken ribs, IV.

Breathing again was a blessing, but their lungs were on fire, as if they were being stabbed over and over again. The cold chattering their bones wasn't helping. Their wish to sit up impossible with how weak they were. Frustration was the only thing that kept then half aware of what was going on, their consciousness slipping when a hand ran through their hair, gentle whispers rocking them back to the sleep.

They winced with a sudden cold on their head, not sure if it brought relief or worsened their chills. They could only whimper as response, their eyes fluttering but refusing to open.

Leader could stand being hurt, being weak. Or being alone, being ignored. They wouldn't care what happened to themselves.

But they couldn't stand their own tears.

They couldn't stand that their heart bleeding out with their tears. They were too used to bottling up their every emotions and releasing them on the enemy. Their anger, hatred, and tiredness would push them. They weren't used to breaking down loudly. They would prefer to stare at the window all night, think and think until they drowned in their own thoughts.

Not cry in Mentor's arms.

The thought felt wrong to Leader in many ways. Leader wouldn't cry, and the mere idea of Mentor showing any kindness to them was as so surreal.

A hand cupped their cheek, and Leader tried opening their eyes again, groaning. The source of the dim light was covered by a silhouette, which took Leader embarrassingly long to recognise.

"Mentor," they gasped, but coughs took over their voice, their ribs screaming them to stop.

Mentor leaned closer, concern etched across their face as they gently shushed Leader. "Easy now," Mentor's voice was soft, an unusual tenderness in their tone. "Don't get up. You need to rest."

Leader wanted to protest, wanted to maintain their facade of strength, but their body rebelled. They could only manage a weak nod, making themselves wonder how they had found the strength to argue with Mentor before.

Mentor reached to their forehead, lifting the cold - probably warm now, going by the frown they tried to hide - cloth. Leader's head throbbed with pain as the cloth left their forehead, and they could feel a dull warmth spreading across their skin.

"Doctor will come soon, but you should eat something before they arrive, or they will chop off my head."

With that, Mentor left, leaving Leader alone with their thoughts. Leader tried to sit up, pain clouding their depressed trail of thoughts they would rather not deal with. But their tries were in vain, and they whimpered as they hit back to the pillows.

"I told you don't get up," Mentor sighed, a tray on their hand. "You'll just harm yourself further."

"Can't eat like this," Leader countered, trying to sit up again. Mentor set the tray to the bedside table, helping them to lean back.

Leader could only muster a weak, half-hearted smile and a strained thank you. The pain and exhaustion had stolen their ability to argue, at least for now.

Mentor put the tray to Leader's lap gently, Leader barely holding back a wince as their knees ached.

Leader's hands trembled, their fingers hurting simply with trying to pick up the spoon. They could only then notice bandages wrapped around their hands, from all way through their wrists to the fingertips. They were too focused on their breathing to realise that they didn't leave that wreckage without getting some of their bones bruised. But they didn't think they had any broken bones— other than their ribs, at least.

It was a slow and clumsy process, their trembling hands causing the spoon to clatter against the plate. The soup was lukewarm, and the taste, although bland, brought some comfort. It had been a while since they'd tasted anything other than the bitterness of defeat and pain.

"You stubborn fool," Mentor muttered, more to themselves than to Leader, before gently setting Leader's hand down and taking the spoon.

"Here," they said softly, "let me help you with that."

Mentor carefully dipped the spoon into the soup, making sure not to spill it, and brought it to Leader's lips.

While Leader hated everything about it, they didn't resist until their stomach clenched, unable to eat more. The warmth eased the scratch on their throat, but it left them exhausted.

Mentor must have picked the signs, taking the tray back to the bedside table and helping them to lay back.

"You're acting strange," Leader coughed, Noticing too late that they had said it out loud.

Mentor paused, their expression shifting briefly before settling into a conflicted look. They didn't immediately respond. Instead, they busied themselves with tidying up the room, their actions conveying an unease that was unusual for them.

"It's just my conscience. I know you don't want it, but... I was wrong. And late to realise that."

After a few moments, Mentor turned to face Leader, their gaze more direct than ever before. "I've pushed you too hard, too often," they confessed, their voice carrying a weight of regret.

Leader couldn't respond to that, not understanding how being pushed could be something to apologise. Sure, it made them alone, but before the team, everything was... fine. Leader had been fine as long as they didn't hope to be a part of something.

But their heart couldn't handle seeing Mentor like this.

"Its alright," they whispered, their voice failing them.

"I don't deserve your forgiveness," Mentor looked away.

"Good thing forgiveness is given, not deserved," Leader answered, trying to soften the mood. "Can— can I have some water?"

It was an olive branch.

Mentor nodded, their eyes still filled with an odd mix of emotions. They poured a glass of water and carefully helped Leader take a sip, supporting their head.

"Try to sleep until Doctor comes," Mentor murmured, covering Leader with a thin blanket.

Leader's eyelids grew heavy, and despite the burning ache in their body, exhaustion pulled them into a restless slumber. As they drifted off, the world around them dissolved into a feverish dream.

Time seemed to blur, and before they knew it, Leader's awareness returned in bits and pieces. They felt disoriented, lying in the dimly lit room, their eyes slowly adjusting to the soft glow of a lamp by the bedside.

Somehow, they felt worse than before. They couldn't breathe without wheezing, their ribs aching with the every too deep breath and limbs uncooperative.

As they slowly gained a firmer grip on consciousness, Leader's gaze wandered around the room. That was when they noticed an IV bag hanging on the bedrail, the blanket gone, and a cold cloth on their forehead again. Confusion swept over them, and their eyes followed the line from the bag to the needle in their arm. A brief wave of panic subsided as they remembered they were in Mentor's home.

Outside the ajar door, Mentor and Doctor spoke in hushed tones. Their voices were muffled, but Leader could make our some of it.

"Their fever is quite high," Doctor was saying. "But let it be for the time being. We just have to make sure it doesn't overwhelm them."

Mentor's voice, though hushed, held a note of concern. "How long can we expect this to go on?"

"The fever should become less frequent in a week. But don't worry if it doesnt— pneumonia is a nasty thing to deal with. And at least a month for the broken ribs. I don't want them walking around anytime soon, too. As for the rest of their injuries, the bruising and minor fractures should heal over time, but they'll be weak for a while."

Leader's breaths hitched. A month. The words hung in the air, like a heavy shroud that threatened to suffocate them.

"This should shut up the agency for a while about Leader being a traitor," Doctor continued. "They'll see for themselves the extent of the injuries and how long it'll take for a recovery."

Mentor's response was quiet, thoughtful. "It's not just about the agency," they said, their voice still tinged with worry. "Leader's going to have a difficult time with this. They've never been one to sit still for long, especially when there's work to be done."

"They will give you some challenge. I doubt the kid can hold back their words now. I would give the world to see them roast you," Doctor chuckled.

"Perhaps it is the time I get my mistakes thrown at my face."

A low, raspy noise escaped their dry lips, which soon turned into a muffled cough. It was just loud enough to draw the attention of both Doctor and Mentor, who promptly entered the room.

"You," Doctor began as soon as they helped Leader to sit up and relieve some pressure from their chest, "are the most stubborn patient I've ever had the misfortune to treat."

Leader's eyes met Doctor's, and despite the fatigue and weakness, there was a glimmer of defiance. "You love me," they managed to rasp out, their voice barely above a whisper.

Doctor arched an eyebrow. "Love you? I've been considering running experiments to test the limits of your stubbornness. But yes, I suppose one could call it a strange form of affection, kid."

"Not a kid," Leader returned as usual. Doctor had known then for most of their life, and the older person was their assigned medical officer, making it impossible to avoid conflict.

Doctor smirked, eyeing Mentor, almost pleased. "The only upside if this is that you will get taken care of for once."

"Oh, I will enjoy it," they answered with sarcasm. Exhaustion came once again, souring their mood even more. They closed their eyes, frustrated couldn't even stay awake for an hour straight.

"Looks like the cocktail is working. I had my doubts with you awake now." Doctor eased Leader back into the pillows.

"That's cheating." Leader mumbled as they reached to rip the IV from their shoulder, but their hand was slapped. They whimpered with the pain on their already bruised hands.

"It stays until it finishes," Doctor said firmly.

Leader didn't answer. Instead, they forced themselves to think about the traitor. They didn't know how long passed since the mission or what happened at that.

"Any leads?"

Silence settled until Mentor and Doctor realised what it was about.

"Rumors are circulating, but nothing concrete," Mentor began cautiously. "The agency is in turmoil, trying to piece together what went wrong. The higher-ups are scrambling to identify the mole, but they're keeping things hushed. Most of the raids on Whumper was succes, but the data found its worrying. Your team is cleared, though."

"Good to know," Leader replied, their voice softer. They didn't notice the tension in their muscles eased, eyes closing again.

"But you, kid," Doctor completed Mentor, "need to focus on recovery now. The agency can handle its own troubles for a while."

#whump #whump writing #leader whumpee #leader whump #sickfic whump #angst #recovery #tw IV #broken ribs

[liminalmemories21]

WIP Wednesday

Tagged by @paperstorm, @freneticfloetry, @carlos-in-glasses, @lemonlyman-dotcom, and @three-drink-amy. Thanks!

I opened old WIP to try and psych myself out of whatever block I'm having with knave-verse, and this seems to just mean I have more open files to procrastinate on?

On the other hand, I did write this scene in knave-verse - new theory, if just keep writing scenes eventually they'll transfigure themselves into something coherent? (I mean, this did kind of work for the first one, so . . . )

Mitchell ambushes him at the front door.  "ADA Cortes is here."

He frowns.  "Julián? Why?"

She shrugs. "I didn't ask."

He scowls at her. "Helpful. Thank you."

She leans against the edge of the intake desk and peers around the corner in the direction of the bullpen. "He never remembered my coffee order."

He sighs. "Yes, your dislike for Julián is well documented. He's probably just here about a case." Although off the top of his head he can't think of what case.

She hmmms. "I'm just saying, TK always gets my coffee order right, and he brings the good bagels."

He eyes her, and decides he doesn't really want to ask what mental leap she'd just made was. "Noted."

She hmms, dissatisfied with his response. "I'm keeping an eye on him." He gives her a dubious look, but she lets him go with an imperious wave.

He stops near his desk, where Julián is leaning over it, looking at the pictures he keeps there - his family, TK, a picture of him and Mitchell after they'd solved their first case together. "Julián, sorry did I forget a meeting?"

Julián shakes his head. "I just wanted to stop by to see if you had an update on the case."

He frowns. "Which case?"

Julián gestures. "The missing painting."

Carlos frowns more. "You'd need to speak to SSA Tulson about that. The theft is a White Collar case, not my jurisdiction."

"You seemed pretty involved the other night."

He raises his eyebrows. "That was just a coincidence. I was there as a guest."

Julian looks annoyed. "Right, as TK Strand's date. At a cocktail party at Cliff Massey's house."

He stares at Julian mystified. "Yes? Massey's on the Board at the Blanton. TK works at the Blanton."

Julian's lips tighten in annoyance. "I could barely get you to go out to a restaurant with me, but apparently now you're fine parading around the Austin elite as a plus one."

He blinks, taken aback. "The hell?"

Julián looks indecisive for a moment, like he's weighing whether he wants to say something, and Carlos remembers that from when they'd dated, the way Julián would pretend to debate with himself before he told you something he thought was for your own good. He hasn't missed it. "I looked up your boyfriend."

"Did you?" he says with a bland calm he's not feeling.

Julián nods. "He seemed very knowledgeable about art theft for a guy who's a glorified art teacher, so I got curious. He's got quite a record."

Carlos glances around the bullpen, and then takes Julián's elbow, steering him towards the conference room, tightening his grip when Julián starts to protest. "I am not doing this with you here." It isn't until they're in the conference room, and Carlos is leaning back against the door that he lets his smile drop. "So, you looked into TK?"

Julián nods. "After the theft, and some of the comments I overheard, I thought I should do my due diligence."

"Did you?" he repeats thinly. "You know, when people say they don't trust law enforcement this is part of what they mean, this kind of gross and blatant abuse of power."

Julián looks startled, but not guilty, and Carlos feels the dull flush of anger start to build. "What does that mean?"

"What possible reason did you have to run a background check on TK? There's been no arrest in the case, there's no indictment for you to prosecute. He's not even a person of interest."

"Maybe he should be."

Carlos grits his teeth. "Because?"

"He has a file an inch thick," Julian snaps, "all of it for art theft."

He holds on to his temper with a thread. "Yes. You know what isn't in that file? An arrest. For anything. Which SSA Tulson knows, which is why he doesn't consider TK a person of interest. Not," he mutters, "that is any of your business."

"You introduced him to your parents."

He gapes at the non sequitur. "Are you stalking him?"

Julián makes a sharp gesture. "I looked at his fucking Instagram account, and there he is laughing with Major Reyes, and helping someone I'm guessing is your mother blow out the candles on a birthday cake. I mean, I'm just guessing because it's not like I ever met her."

Carlos stares at him. "I'm sorry, are you jealous? We broke up two years ago, and I wasn't the one who ended it."

Julián glares at him.  "I was falling in love with you.  I was falling in love with you, and you never let me in, not really.  And it didn't seem like that was ever going to change, no matter how long I waited.  I broke up with you before you had a chance to break my heart."  His mouth twists a little.  "Might have left it too late for that anyway."

Carlos has no idea what to say.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't know."  And stalls, because what can he say after that?  Everything he can think of feels unkind.

"Yeah, I got that message, loud and clear.  Thanks." Julián stares at the folders on the table, but Carlos doesn't think he sees them.  "What does he have that I didn't?"  Carlos blinks, startled, and Julian presses the point.  "We could have been so good together, we could have made a name for ourselves."

"Been the fashionable gay power couple," he suggests dryly. Julian shrugs and doesn't deny it.

tagging @chaotictarlos, @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut and @lutavero

#wip #tarlos #911 lonestar #knave-verse

[thepenultimateword]

I've come out of hiding because I love you and your writings, also

https://thepenultimateword.tumblr.com/post/693443435507662848/short-prompt-33 thisssssssss needs morreeeee can I has a part two?

Now here me out, I'm sure your swamped because your amazing and havr all the asks in the world so I'm NOT expecting ANYTHING ANYTIME soon, this is simply because I think it's amazing and like any book I wanna read the next 'chapter' ❤❤❤

Have a great week!!

D’awww thank you so much!!

Sooo, I am swamped but I actually have an idea for this one and don’t want to lose my motivation to write it, so you’re in luck 😜

Part One

Henchman B slunk into the employee dorms somewhere around 3 in the morning. The dingy yellow light of the common area's only vending machine cast shadows in the hollows of their face, stretching the purple bruises around their eyes and along their bottom lip longer.

Henchman A lifted their head groggily off the sofa arm at the front door's familiar beep and squeeeal and blinked in the double layers of clothing and slow, limping walk.

“B!” they cried, leaping off the couch with sudden and intense alertness.

B's head swiveled halfway toward them, dark eyes drinking them out of the shadows for several silent, nerve-wracking seconds. They sighed, closing swollen eyelids and drooping already limp arms down to their knees. “Couldn’t you have just gone to bed?”

The comment sent a wash of ice through A's bloodstream, but they ignored it, approaching close enough to see the burst blood vessels staining B's face like an inkblot painting. What was the picture though? Destruction? A bleeding heart? A butterfly stripped of its wings, torn, ugly, helpless? Whatever it was, it sent A's chest aching.

"What did Villain do?" It came out lower than a whisper. A half-dared question.

“Nothing.”

They swished past A with a dangerous wobble and, wincing, eased down onto the couch. Was it too painful to make it all the way to their room? Or did they simply not want A watching them move, picking out each flinch and stumble?

“I’ll get the first aid kit,” A said, already turning toward the bathroom.

“No!”

A’s heart nearly leaped right out of their chest and their feet froze to the spot, numb and solid. They dared peek back, but B only closed their eyes and rubbed the bruised bridge of their nose.

“Please. Just leave.”

A parted their lips and closed them again. Their eyes fixed on their hands, clenched nervously around the hem of their shirt. They picked it this morning because they knew B liked blue, especially the dark, dreary shades, but now it just reeked guilt.

It was probably for the best that they left. They'd caused B enough trouble today, the least they could do was listen to them for once. Maybe they should trade shifts with another henchman and get out of their life completely. Was that too extreme? Compared to what B had done for them today, it didn't feel like it. In any case, they should at least apologize.

A turned around slowly, shuffling up in front of B's knees. Talking to B had always been so easy, even with the other henchman's cold manner. But now trembling lips searched to form words and nothing came.

"A, please--"

“I’m sorry," they croaked.

They glanced up at B for some sign of acceptance or hatred, but their expression was bland as ever. If it weren't for the slight tilt of their head aiming their good ear in their direction, A wouldn't even know they were listening.

"I’m so stupid," A continued. "This is all my fault. I should have said something. I should have told the truth as soon as you took the fall. This--" They waved up and down at B's battered body. "--should be me. But I'm just a selfish coward. I'm so sorry."

B continued to stare. Their lack of response filled in by the vending machine's electric drone and A's quiet sobs. The ceiling creaked overhead as some other henchman shifted in bed.

Please, just tell me you hate me. Please, get it over with.

B let out another signature sigh. "You speaking up only would have gotten us both beat. You for letting in a hero, me for lying. It would have defeated the point of me rescuing you in the first place."

Warm callused fingers found their way to A's eyes and gruffly rubbed away the trailing tears.

A's breath caught in their throat. What was happening right now? B had never touched them before. Not outside of sparring at least. Sometimes A had imagined what it might feel like for those hands to rove their face but never had their imagination come up with a scenario like this.

All at once it was over. Those hands pulled away and B dropped back down on the couch cushions with a soft groan.

A swallowed. A question buried under their own guilt and worry finally dragging itself to the surface.

"Why...did you save me?"

"Hm?"

"It's not as if we're close... And all I ever do is flirt and bother you. You threatening me all the time was always fun, but they're still threats. I thought it would have been satisfying to see me finally get my just desserts for all the annoyance I've caused you."

B blinked. "We've been co-workers for three years."

A stared at them. What did that have to do with anything?

"Yeah?"

"We spar together, eat together, work together. I know your strengths, your vulnerabilities. And I'm far stronger than you. Don't you think if I wanted something to happen to you I would have already done it myself?"

"W-well, yeah. But not wishing harm on someone is a far cry from taking the beating yourself... I just don't get why--

“Come here."

A's mouth dropped open.

B lifted one heavy arm toward them, beckoning with two fingers. A had to resist the urge to look around the empty room for some other person B could be talking to.

"Come here," B repeated, firmer.

Here? A was already standing right in front of them, so did they mean...?

They slowly lowered themself to the edge of the couch cushion. No sooner did they sit when B's strong arms pulled them against themself. A found their nose tucked into the warm crook of their crush's neck, so intimately close they could practically smell the pain wafting off them.

"Don't--" A protested, pulling away to spare B's obviously sore ribs, but B's hold only tightened.

"You were right about one thing," they said, throat vibrating against A's cheek. "I let you get away with far too much."

Within the span of a sentence, A's mouth had gone completely dry. So now, even with a dozen comments and questions fighting to be asked, they couldn't utter a single word. It was probably better that way since the top of A's queue was a flirty pick-up line bound to ruin the whole moment.

"I'll always protect you," B continued. "Always. You hear?"

A nodded numbly.

B let out a long, tired breath that made their whole chest--and in turn A--rise and fall. "I hate you seeing me weak."

Weak? Being hurt wasn't weak. Taking someone else's punishment and then comforting them wasn't weak. B had always been a mystery when it came to feelings. Their constant dry tone and bland expression always made it seem like they felt nothing at all. But maybe the truth was that they wore a mask when they felt the most. Now it was slipping. That, most of all, wasn't weak.

A wanted to let B know that they were the strongest, most beautiful, most amazing person they'd ever met and that nothing would ever make them think less of them. But as they wetted their tongue to speak, something else was already slipping off the tip.

"You know, B, I should go get that first-aid kit for that knee."

B scrunched their eyes. "What are you talking about? Villain didn't do anything to my--"

"You know, the one you scraped falling for me."

B's face immediately dropped into an unimpressed frown, but with the pressure of their arms still steady against their shoulder blades, A was beginning to think that might be a good sign and their laughter escaped as a loud squeak.

"You're so annoying," B said.

"You know what else might make you feel better?" A managed through their giggles.

B rolled their eyes, but their expression was resigned. "What?"

"A big dose of Vitamin Me."

This time B did crack a smile. They tried to hide it with another sigh and a duck of their head into A's shoulder, but it remained loud and clear in their voice.

"Don't make me push you off this couch."

"It's a good plan, but it won't work; I've already fallen for y--"

B clapped their hand over their mouth. "Shhh. My head feels like its going to split open. Let's just be quiet for a while, hm?"

A nodded against their palm. Their arms fumbled together as they shifted into a more comfortable embrace; gentle fingers curled into the back of A's shirt; B's heart thumped a little too quick in their ear.

They never knew silence could say so much.

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps

#villain x villain #henchman x henchman #minion x minion #writing snippet #heroes and villains #creative writing #villain #heroes and villains community #hero x villain #fiction #hero #villain x hero #superheroes and villains #protective x flirty #prompt continuation #writblr #writerblr

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook: Dearly Beloved (5)

In which your stalker finally makes contact.

Tags/Warnings: I do not condone any of Jungkooks questionable actions, this is fiction, soft Yandere!Jungkook, stalking, criminal actions (trespassing, stealing), obsession, he's really not quite right in the head, mc is kind of stupid for not involving police but wbk

Additional Chapter Warnings: creepy texting?

Chapter Length: mid/short

A/N: thank you for reading ♡

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♥━━━━━━━━━━━♡━━━━━━━━━━━━♥

You're sitting at home, the shiny black smartphone in hand, as you stare at it, waiting.

He's dropped it in your mailbox, given it to you to 'take the next step', as he'd written in the letter accompanying the small box containing the device. You've already snooped around a little, noticed that certain apps and functions seem to be locked- and it makes sense. He's always been careful not to reveal too much at might, info he gives away always rather vague and almost teasing.

And then, the phone vibrates.

A message pops up.

A contact by the name of 'JK' has sent in a simple message through an app you've never seen before. It's rather bland, but it's not that what peaks your interest; it's his words that do.

[I'm sorry it took so long]

[I had to make sure everything was working perfectly, before you could have it]

[And I also needed to.. Somehow find the courage]

You read his words carefully, before you reply to him that it's completely fine. That you're happy you're now abke to talk more directly to him- before you catch yourself realizing how dangerous this is right after sending the message. But he's already typing- and your curiosity moves all worries to the side.

[You're so sweet]

[Are you taking good care of yourself?]

You lay on the couch, texting back without thinking how stressful work has been for the past few days. It's the truth; you haven't even had time to talk to Jungkook at all due to the rough deadlines they'd given you recently. You joke that you're more or less surviving on instant noodles, but he doesnt seem to take it with as much humor as you do.

[Please look after yourself]

[your job isn't worth the sacrifice of your health]

[I wish I could cook]

[I should learn it]

[I could leave you meals in front of your doors to eat after work]

You giggle to yourself as you read his excited messages, feeling oddly cared for already by someone telling you they'd take on a difficult hobby such as cooking just to take care of you. It's an odd feeling. It's odd to you to feel wanted.

Maybe that's why you're so.. Attached to him.

Because he wants you.

Growing up, it's always just been expectations thrown at you, never any understanding for the things and aspirations you would have. Everyone always just told you what to do, what to be, what to become. And then 'JK' showed up, gave you attention for who you were, became interested and obsessed with you, and not what you could be.

Maybe that's why you're not scared of him.

He's never done any harm to you at all, at the end of the day. He's always been more concerned for your well being than anything else, never stepping further than you'd let him. It made you feel totally in control of the situation, no matter what anybody else would say.

Though, his next messages certainly made you shudder a bit- reminding you that he's not a friend, but still someone unknown watching you at all times.

And that he might be closer than you'd think.

[Now go to bed, darling]

[I can see your lights are still on ♡]

#bts imagine #bts fanfic #bts fic #jungkook imagine #yandere jungkook #soft yandere jungkook #bts yandere #Dearly beloved au

[gemma-collins-ily]

hi so you know this post? i was looking at all the things you were originally gonna do with it and i saw the hogsmeade with harry so i was just wondering if you could write that also with gof harry :) it’s really such a pain in the ass trying to find fics of him cuz he’s so criminally underrated </3

Going to Hogsmeade with Harry

a/n - I kinda forgot the gof part sorry bestie I really wrote this over a WHILE and didn't look at your request for a hot sec there's literally no mention of it being gof Harry😭✋

Warnings: drinks??? (butterbeer not alcohol) not sure what else???

sorry but the bestie takes forever to even ASK

doesn't matter if you are together, he's speaking to Ron at literal midnight

"Yeah, I know they'd probably say yes but would they really? 'Cause I did that really annoying thing last week and I don't know if they're holding a grudge!"

and at some point he even managed to get Ron doubtful of if you'd want to go

and they both have a mini crisis because Ron's just a little too invested in your love life after Harry has spoken about it for weeks

"Mate, to be honest, you're making me doubt them - which is odd because I've never really done that before, they obviously like you." "But do they lOVE ME enough to go with me?!?"

why's he acting like this is a proposal???

Ron has no clue but just goes along with it slightly

after a minute to pause, Ron gets the fantastic idea of going to see Hermione for help

kind of 'forgets' to tell Harry because Harry may have asked he didn't tell anyone

but Ron had kept the secret for WEEKS okay, cut him some slack

"So, if, uh, theoretically, someone with dark-ish hair and a holy scar on his forehead wanted to ask someone that he really likes to go to Hogsmeade, how would he... go about that?"

she shakes her head because girl WHAT are these boys doing

also, Ron is totally indiscreet and basically just told her over breakfast before Harry was there

and bess frenn was not quite using an indoor voice

he used a very shouty stage whisper

and now Ginny knows

and Ginny may or may not have told Neville in transfiguration

and Neville may or may not have told Cho in the greenhouse

and Cho may, okay, she definitely told Luna

who was kind of forgetful in the fact that you weren't meant to know

so, she mentions it whilst on a walk with you

"Harry wanted to take you to Hogsmeade, although now I'm not so sure. I heard about it on Monday so maybe it was a sudden impulse since he hasn't asked. What do you think?" "Well... I think I'll wait it out until he says something for now. Thanks, Luna."

okay so now she's done half his job for him

should be easy from then on, right?

wrong

and you really give him every opportunity

I mean EVERY

bestie is fumbling and you're stood there like ummm is he going to ask me out???

then one day you basically give up the pretence that you have no clue what's going on and straight up talk about it like you are already going together

"So, I'm thinking that when we go on Saturday, we should obviously go to Madam Puddifoot's because apparently she knows everyone's tea strength and milk to sugar ratio and whatever so that's really cool, and then-" "Huh? Did I ask last night because I don't really remember and I was really tired so I mean... I'm sure I would have woken right up if you had said yes though, so I'm not sure how I can't remember asking!" "Harry, you didn't. Until now, kind of, I guess. So, yes, Harry, I'll go with you to Hogsmeade and now we need to sort out where we're going. Talk later, yeah?"

woah

he's astounded

Ron hears about it in Potions through a note/several ones that have literally quoted what you said word for word

Hermione hears in Transfiguration from Harry and Ron, with the latter instantly telling her as soon as he walks up to her

now Ron and Hermione are basically Harry's therapists till Saturday

Neville is sat next to them whilst Harry's going off on a rant and has wide eyes whilst Ron and Hermione are like 'yup, this is nothing new, getting a bit bland'.

so, when Saturday comes and you wait in the Great Hall, Hermione literally runs up to you

"Take him away from us, like, now. I can't listen to any more from him and he keeps asking if his scarf is askew? Since when does he care?"

so you're off

he apologises for making you go through the tunnel to Hogsmeade and you tell him multiple times it's no problem

besides, it gives you privacy to hold hands and have him swing them whilst they're clasped together

bestie he hit your hand on the wall by accident and five minutes were spent with him asking if you were okay and examining your hand

when you finally get out of the tunnels and whatever you naturally gravitate to Madam Puddifoot's because Harry wants you to be happy with where you're going and you already mentioned it so it's the first stop

aww adorable

anyways

you and Harry swap drinks at a point even though they're meant to be tailored to you specifically not the person you're on a date with

but you swap to see what the other person likes even if you both end up pursing your lips at how sweet or not sweet the other person's is

you swap back and laugh together as you talk about practically anything

if you're a bookish person then you definitely stop by a book shop and Harry frowns as he sees an old book by Gilderoy Lockhart until you steer him away

he reads the blurb of every book you pick up because he wants to know what you like and you try to recommend books to each other

if you end up with a kinda big stack of books propped up by one arm while you look for others, he'll take half the pile no matter how many he already has

then oopsie daisy he accidentally pays for a few of them

"Harry, I could have paid myself! When do you want the money back by?" "You don't need to pay me back, Merlin knows I have enough money anyway, and you don't owe me anything, promise. If you're that worried you can pay me back whenever you want, I don't mind."

okay that earns him a hug with the bags of books looped around your arms

if you jostle a bag and he sees it has left a stripe on your arm from the handles or anything, he's taking the bag

asking first, of course

you go to the Three Broomsticks and drink butterbeer together or another drink and then try not to laugh at the froth that appears above each other's lips

"I see only one solution." "What's that?" "Obviously gotta get it off somehow." Then, he runs his thumb over your lip before saying, "Nope, don't think I got it off. Only one thing for it." Next, he's kissing you, something you eagerly return.

then a teacher walks in and since basically everyone knows Harry, basically everyone knows he's not supposed to be in Hogsmeade

you duck immediately

Harry's quizzical before he spots the teacher and drops to be under the table

he bumps his hand on the way

you facepalm before kissing his knuckles, claiming the classic 'a kiss will make it better'

he blushed before a look of disappointment crosses his face

"What is it?" you hiss from below the table, "Does it hurt more now that I did that, sorry." "No, no, it's great, never felt better! Just realised I could have done that in the tunnels. Missed opportunity." "It's never too late," you grin and raise an eyebrow, "I actually think it still stings, maybe you should return the favour, make it better." "I think I should, too." And he does, as you giggle together under the table in the Three Broomsticks on a Saturday, muffling laughs in each other's shoulders and hoping the teacher doesn't hear you.

it becomes a thing you do whenever you have free time on Saturdays and Harry isn't defeating someone or anything

after a while, Harry becomes less nervous for each date

but don't worry, they're all just as special as the first

that scene where there's snow in Hogsmeade?

yeah, you go together in winter too

you have snowball fights against Ron and Hermione

it's half so that they'll maybe actually get together finally and half because you and Harry really want to be on a team with each other

you make little bases which are just mini hills of snow you hide behind while you make snowballs to chuck

if you forget gloves, don't even worry, he's got a spare pair

there are some moments where Ron rolls his eyes at the displays of affection you two have

for example, once Harry didn't have spare gloves so he just made snowballs and guided you to put your hands on top of his and make them with him

cuties alert 🚨🚨🚨

another time is when you are scrambling across the snow to try to invade your opposition's base to pelt them with snowballs, you fall to the ground and Harry, who had been distracting them, rushes out to check on you

woah, sacrificing himself to the snowballs for you, that's true love

he leans over you as you flat on your back before you laugh and put your hands on his cheeks

he ignores the chill from your gloves sourced by making snowballs and grins down at you

just as he's about to kiss you, Ron hits the two of you with a snowball in the literal tiny gap between your lips

Hermione thwacks him (gently) and then the moment is sort of, but not really, over

so she joins Ron in chucking snowballs at you until they run out and literally just start gathering fistfuls of snow

Harry pushes over so that you're both on your sides facing each other but his back is to Romoine (I can't keep writing both their names again I'm sorry-) as he gets attacked with snowballs and is basically your shield

and he just chuckles every time he's hit before acting like he's wounded, asking you to kiss it better-

then, he signals for you to run as he grabs the invisibility cloak from his pocket and hands it to you

you know what he means and get up carefully, darting behind a little snow mound whilst Romoine are grabbing more snow armfuls

you sneak around in the cloak to your previous base and carry as many snowballs as you can manage in your arms until you stand behind the two

they couldn't see you weren't there since all they can see is Harry shuffling around and as silly as it sounds, it's a major tactic

you pat a snowball into the base of Ron's neck as he jumps and looks at Hermione

then, when he looks away, Hermione gets one there too

Hermione looks at Ron before practically tackling him, a new pyramid of snowballs set up by you and they don't stop to think about how they got there

you run back to Harry as he smiles

"Every person for themselves?" "Godric, no. Let's just wait to see how long they fight, it's funny."

when they realise it was you, Harry states 'all is fair in love and war' smugly before you two end up running, you trying to unfurl the cloak from where it lies over your arm and toss it over the both of you

like it would help cover the footprints in the snow but whatever

you run back to Hogwarts and sit in front of the fire together later, Harry and you sharing a blanket

if McGonagall sees you huddled together and wonders why you would have gone into the snow if Harry didn't have parental permission to Hogsmeade even when she already knows the answer, she says nothing

#harry james potter x reader #harry james potter x y/n #harry potter x reader #harry potter x you #harry potter imagine #harry potter fic #harry potter blurb #hp fanfic #hp x reader #hp x y/n #hjp #harry james potter #harry potter headcanon #harry potter thoughts

[6-atlas-6]

A work of art

Vincent x (gn) Lovely

Word count: 763

"Are you going to help me or just sit there and watch the love of your life suffer?" Lovely was sitting on the floor, screwdriver in hand, trying to open a paint can. They were this close to risking the inevitable cuts they'd get by just ripping the damn thing open.

"if I remember correctly you were the one who unceremoniously ripped the screwdriver from my hands and told me, and I quote, you could do it yourself." Vincent was sitting behind Lovely with his hands wrapped around their waist. His head was placed in its usual spot on their shoulder, showering their neck in kisses. He had just finished taping the room.

The paint can lid suddenly popped open causing lovely to jump. They lean down and place their head in their hands, laughing at themself for getting jump scared by a paint can. Vincent takes Lovely's cheek in his hand, guiding their face so that their lips meet his. He was giggling at their reaction.

"Don't laugh at me you ass." Lovely playfully hits his shoulder. They pick up the paint can to pour paint into the tray. They hand Vincent a brush before dipping their own in paint.

"So what am I supposed to do? Are we painting the whole room?" Vincent question, twirling the paint brush between his fingers.

"Vince we talked about this earlier today. We were gonna paint the whole thing remember?" Lovely crouched down starting to paint near the bottom of the wall, a very concentrated look on their face.

"The only thing I can remember is how captivating your eyes were~" Vincent winks at Lovely causing them to roll their eyes. He takes in the concentrated look on their face, making a mental note of how cute they looked in this moment. He grabbed a stool and stepped onto it, starting at the top of the wall.

Lovely paused in their painting to grab their phone. They connected it to the speaker in the room. There was no way they were getting through this entire room without some sort of background noise. They doubted Vincent would want to listen to their audiobook, so they opted for music.

Lovely had already gotten the outline of the entire wall done. They grabbed a roller so they could fill in the wall, dipping it in paint. They looked over to Vincent who was barely halfway done.

"You're a vampire with enhanced speed and you still paint slower than anyone I've ever met." Lovely starts filling in the wall they were working on.

Vincent was going terribly slow. It may have been due to how many times he looked back to stare at Lovely while they painted.

"Can you blame me? This wall is so terribly boring and your face is so gorgeous. My eyes needed a break from the blandness and you were right there." Vincent smiles as he walks towards the paint tray to dip his brush in again.

Lovely smiles before bending over. They dip the tips of their fingers in paint and flick it towards Vincent, small paint splatters now littering his t-shirt. Vincent looks up at them like he had just suffered the biggest betrayal of his life. He dips his paint brush in the tray before flinging paint off of it at Lovely.

"How dare you.” Lovely laughs. Vincent loved when they looked like that. He loved when they smiled. He never knew something could feel so wonderful. Every time they were happy it was like it was contagious. The light from their smile projecting onto him and making him smile in return.

They went back and forth flicking small amounts of paint at each other like children in a splash fight. Eventually Vincent grabbed their waist, his paint soaked fingers inevitably staining their pants. He took their face in his hands and kissed them like they were the oxygen he needed to breathe. When they pulled away from eachother, Vincent brushed a strand of lovely's hair behind their ear and kissed the tip of their nose.

They were both covered in splotches of paint, obviously having long forgotten their earlier task of painting the room. Vincent stared at Lovely as the light from the window seeped into the room, illuminating their face like they were an angel. In Vincent's eyes, they were.

They were covered in paint and in clothes they both didn't care about or didn't fit them like people usually are when they paint. They both looked a mess, but in each other's eyes, they were a work of art.

#they're such idiots I love them #Idk what possessed me to write this but here we are #redacted asmr #redacted audio #redactedverse #redacted vincent solaire #redacted vincent #redacted solaire clan #redacted lovely #redacted vampires #redacted fanfic #redacted

[doberbutts]

How are you enjoying tears of the kingdom so far?

I'm sort of two minds about it in complete honesty!

Tears of the Kingdom is a well executed sequel to a well executed proof of concept that was Breath of the Wild. I saw someone refer to TotK as the game BotW said it would be and I wholeheartedly agree. If you liked BotW, you will love TotK.

Everything that was great about BotW continues to be great and then some with TotK. The exploration. The look into how Hyrule and the surrounding kingdom/territories works. The mechanics are tighter. The story is more engaging. The characters are more fun and less bland. Additionally it feels like they took the good parts from some of their other games, including games that did not do well, and mixed it in here. The sky portion feels like what Skyward Sword wanted to be. Getting chased by the gloom hands felt like getting jumped by the shadow beasts in Twilight Princess. I feel like I'm playing a combo of Windwaker (my ultimate fave Zelda game), Minish Cap, Skyward Sword, A Link to the Past, Ocarina of Time, and Twilight Princess. And it's FUN.

Howver.

That means many of the flaws are continued as well. The Gerudo continue to be Orientalist middle eastern anti-arab stereotypes. The strange transmisogyny bits with the Gerudo are also still there. Those are both Zelda staples so in honesty they'd have to completely rehaul how they treat the entire race to fix it.

Sometimes controls are Extremely Stupid and things move in a completely different direction than I told them to. I was just 🔪🔪🔪 about this while playing Assassin's Creed Valhalla and how peeved it made me when I would move the stick forward and Eivor would cut left or right randomly while running to avoid an invisible obstacle. This also happened in BotW and it's actually a pretty common annoyance of mine with various games.

Overall I'd say it's a great game that does try to improve on its flaws and for the most part does a good job. But it also doubles down on a few of them and that can be a problem if those particular flaws kept you from playing the first one.