#THEN I see someone as beautiful as her and it's just immediate bi panic

[emilymaxximoff]

Deserve Better; Enid X Fem!Reader

CW: Some angst, Struggling with your sexuality, Fluff

Description: After Ron and Enid break up, you let Enid know that she has better options than him.

A/N: Confession time (sorry this note is gonna be long), I've been siting on this one for a hot sec. The absolute bi panic I feel between Carl and Enid is absurd. There's not a ton of Enid fics that I could find so I took it upon myself to write one of my own. This is definitely inspired by Boyfriend by Dove Cameron because, gay. I have been super excited bout this one. I definitely want to write more about her too. I mean just look at the GIF. Also the panic of do I want to be her or be with her is so real with her. Once agin disclaimer, everyone is at least 18. I am 19 and anything else creeps me out. The actors themselves are more than old enough now so like just please. It would mean so much to me if y'all reposted but don't feel like you have to. Love you!

-----

"Hey Y/N!" You heard someone yell behind you. You turned around and immediately smiled. It was Enid. You felt butterflies in your stomach as she lightly jogged towards you with a wicker laundry basket. She had a beautiful glow about her and her hair gently fell around her face.

"Hey Enid." you said as you gave her a cheesy grin. God she was beautiful. You had had a crush on her for years but you would never admit it. It was the apocalypse but people were still people and you were worried about if people would judge you. You also had no idea if Enid liked girls and she had just broken up with Ron so it seem a worse time as any to suddenly admit your feelings. Thankfully the break up didn't seem to bother her much. The only person who knew about your crush was Carl. That fucker knew everything about you. He knew before you did. He could read you like a comic book.

"So, I've been thinking and I think we need to have a girls night tonight. I've got shit to talk about." she said as she smiled back at you.

"Oh dear."

"Oh yes. Meet you at my house around sunset?"

You bit your lip and gave her a joking half grin. "Yeah, yeah. I'll see you then. I have guard duty tomorrow night though so we have to get some sleep tonight." you laughed.

"Great!" she squealed. "I'll see you later."

Your heart was beating out of your chest. You had sleepovers often but every time you still got butterflies. You always had to suppress the urge to lean over and kiss her and tell her how you felt but that never happened and you told yourself it never would. She made you so happy and she had no idea how much she meant to you and how much you loved those nights where it was just you two. She didn't know how much you wanted to hold her hand and hold her as you fell asleep. She had no idea how weak your knees felt as she let you wear her shirt and you breathed in the smell.

You started off towards the Grimes house to talk to Carl. He understood and you needed the support right now. You didn't even need to have the words for him to understand. You walked in the door and casually greeted Rick before climbing up the stairs and going into Carl's room.

"Hey shithead." you said throwing off your shoes and flopping down on his bed next to him.

"Well hello to you too." he laughed. "What's up?"

"I don't know my heart is just about to come out my ribcage and kill me but besides that I'm doing just peachy." you replied as dramatically as you could, sighing and putting the back of your hand on your forehead.

"Enid again?" he laughed at your dramatics, raising his eyebrow.

"Wow how'd you guess?" you rolled your eyes. "We're having a girls night again and you know how I feel during those. She's just so perfect god damn it."

"You should just tell her already. It's driving you insane and she broke up with Ron so it's a great time."

"YoU SHoUlD JuSt telL hEr." you mocked. "Yeah that will work out fucking great. I don't even know if she likes girls. I don't want to ruin our friendship."

"Jesus ok. You don't gotta be a bitch about it. I was just saying I hate to see you dancing around it like a pussy." he grinned at you.

You grabbed a pillow and threw it at him. You laughed as he put his hands up and laughed back. "Fuck you."

"Hey don't shoot he messenger just cause he's right."

-----

You took a breath as you knocked on the door of the Rhee house. Maggie opened the door and smiled at you. "Hey Y/N she's in her room. Let me know if you want snacks or anything. I don't have anything to do tonight." she said motioning you inside.

"Thanks Maggie. I'm good for now thanks." you said as you quickly rushed up the stairs towards Enid's room. You knocked lightly on the door and smiled waiting for the go ahead to come in.

"Come in." You saw her slime as you open then door and come in. "Y/N omg. Come here. I've got just so much shit to say."

You giggled and sat next to her on the soft bed. "Ok spill." you said crossing your legs and turning to look at her.

Oh did she have lots to say. She talked about her runs and her guard duties. She told you about the walkers she killed and how Maggie was nagging her about learning more combat. She ranted about Lydia and how annoying she was. You listened to every word she had to say, putting in input where appropriate. Everything was perfect. Just you two talking and sharing experiences. That was until Ron came up.

"Ron is trying to get back together with me again." you rolled your eyes. "Hey I know we just broke up but still. It's like how much else is there in the world at this point."

"I mean there is a lot more. I'm just saying you can do so much better. You deserve better. Ron is probably one of the worst options right now. He's mean to you a lot of the time." you replied, nervously playing with your hands.

"Yeah ok sure. Who then? Carl? Fuck no." she laughed sarcastically.

"No. As his friend I can tell you no. I'm saying there are other options." you paused. "Better options."

"Ok fine then tell me. What other person could I be with that's better?"

"A lot of people. Ron is awful." you said, trying so hard not to blurt out yourself.

"Ok but like who? We are some of the last people alive on this shithole." she said eying you. She could tell you had something on your mind.

You took a deep breath. You were frustrated and in the heat of the moment somehow you had courage. "I mean like me."

"What?" Enid stared at you wide eyed.

"Fuck. Just forget it. I'm sorry I didn't mean to." you sighed tears filling your eyes. You had been so mad at her naivety and you could stand it do you had blurted out your feelings. You felt as if you just wanted to melt away. Had you ruined your friendship? Was she mad? You couldn't look up at her. You were mortified.

"Hold up no. We need to talk about it. What did you mean?" Enid said reaching out to touch your shoulder. As she did you moved back, rejecting her touch and the tears you were holding back fell down your cheeks as you lifted your head to look at her emphatic face.

"NO! Fuck please stop. I didn't mean- I never meant to- just please lets move on or I'll just leave." You said shakily. You were trying to keep your composure but it was fading quickly.

"No. Y/N, I want to talk about this. I don't want to upset you but when someone you have known forever tells you that you could be good for them..... You want to know what they mean, ya know" Enid said as nicely as possible. You tried to read her face but it was impossible to in your distraught state.

"Fine. Do you honestly want the truth?" Enid nodded her head. "Honestly I've had feelings for you for a long time but you were with Ron and there are so many other factors like I don't know if you even like girls. I don't want you to hate me or think I'm creeping on you cause we sleep in the same bed all the time. It's not like that. I like you for more. Don't get me wrong I definitely wan to have sex but like it's more than that. I like your smile and personality and just everything you do. I mean again like I try not to let anyone know that I like girls so Carl is literally the only one who knows about my crush on you and also like I don't know if you like me or just girls cause you've never said anything. So I've been suppressing these feelings and I wasn't gonna say shit until... ya know... now."

You took a breath and looked at Enid for any validation. She smiled back at you in return. Your tears started to dry. "So what you're trying say is I should ditch men?" she smirked.

"I'm saying that I could be a better boyfriend than Ron ever could be." you said, leaning closer to her.

"Maybe I don't want a boyfriend anymore. Maybe I'm in the mood for a girlfriend now." Enid leaned close to you too, closing more space so you could feel her breath on your lips. You felt butterflies in your stomach and you couldn't contain the huge cheesy grin.

"Well I can be a better girlfriend than Ron too." Enid closed the gap, connecting your lips. she grabbed your face and pulled you even closer. You felt so happy and even through you were kissing her you just wanted to be closer, to become one being. You grabbed her hips and pulled the rest of her close to you. Even though it pained you, you separated once you were out of breath.

"As much as I want to keep going, I told you, I'm gonna be a better partner than you have ever had before. That means doing this the right way. Let me take you out on a date, a real one." you smiled.

Enid groaned and smiled. "I'm ok with rushing in."

"I know but still. I want this to last. I'm gonna do it by the book."

"Ok, I understand. Can we at least hold each other tonight?"

"Anything for you beautiful."

As you snuggled into Enid, you felt at peace for the first time in a long time. To know the girl you loved, loved you back. To know that at least one person could love you for who you were. For now, that's all that mattered.

#enid rhee #twd #the walking dead #lgbtq #enid rhee twd #enid twd #enid rhee x reader #twd imagine #enid rhee x you #wlw #bi panic

[maraudersandlily20]

ok dorcas and marlene as chaotic professors at the same university? could be an AU, could just be Hogwarts

As told in Text Conversations: 

Groupchat: Picasso is a Bitch 

Dorcas: New Teacher alert.

Lily: Department?

Dorcas: Engineering

Remus: Sounds hot

Dorcas: shut up immediately.

Remus: you’re not my mom

Lily: M or F

Dorcas: F

Remus: Dammit

Lily: seem nice?

Dorcas: idk. I didn’t get the chance to actually talk to her. It was more like a moment in passing. She was surrounded by guys, though

Remus: what a lesbian move

Lily: how… how is that even a thing?

Remus: Lils, are you dumb? If girls ONLY hang out with guys, chances are they’re butch. Or they know they aren’t attracted to guys and are wild as fuck and have nothing to lose. They have no one to impress, really. Those are the only two options.

Dorcas: Jesus

Remus: No, I’m sure he wasn’t there

Dorcas: I have to leave this conversation before I physically kill Remus Lupin. Talk to you both later.

Lily: Lunch in our usual spot?

Remus: Tell me if you see the Lesbian again.

Remus: Also, where the fuck is Alice?

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead

Sirius: Well lads, I dropped off the love of our lives at school. Felt like a proud parent. Almost cried.

Marlene: You are aware that I know how to make explosives from scratch right? I’ve been aching to do it for a while, so you wanna keep doing this? Is this happening?

James: I need him, though. We’re gonna get married eventually. So no. You are not allowed to blow him up

Marlene: Fuck

Peter: How's the new campus? 

Marlene: Small. I mean, it’s a lot smaller of a university, harder to get into and all that. But still. For a place that boasts a great deal of wealth, they certainly don’t show it in building size. 

Sirius: That’s how you know they have money. They have nothing to prove. Classic rich people move.

Peter: You should know.

James: Did you get settled though, Mars? 

Marlene: Enough. I still have to set up the lecture hall to my liking, but it’s nice to have an office that will probably be permanent. And I saw your door just a few down from mine, Jamie boy! Sirius: I should have become a professor. I feel left out. I hate being left out.

Peter: You have the right degree, Paddy. You could be a professor if you wanted.

Sirius: Desk jobs are gross. No thank you. Also, children.

Marlene: It’s not a desk job. And, like, these children are basically full grown adults.

Sirius: Physically, maybe. But I remember what we were like at their age. Mentally, they belong in daycare. 

James: You’re just bitter because those college boys outdrank you the other night.

Sirius: THEY FUCKING CHEATED!

Peter: They didn’t though

James: Whatever you say, Pads.

Marlene: Also, I just saw a very beautiful woman. Will keep you updated if I see her again.

Sirius: WHY ARE YOU ONLY SAYING THIS NOW?!?!

---

Groupchat: Picasso Is a Bitch name changed to Hamlet, that’s fucking gay

Remus: Any sign of the lesbian?

Dorcas: No. 

Alice: What? What Lesbian?

Lily: Oh, while you were sick, Dorcas saw a very pretty girl. Remus thinks she’s a lesbian.

Alice: Ooh, that’s fun! 

Remus: I don’t THINK Lily, I know. 

Dorcas: You haven’t even seen her

Remus: Irrelevant. 

Lily: Do you guys know if Potter is back?

Alice: I saw him this morning. He was getting coffee.

Remus: I love that man so much. He’s so beautiful I could literally cry. With that hot caramel skin and that wild hair and how he always smells like some weird spice. I want him to be the father of my children.

Lily: Don’t encourage him.

Remus: He’s not even here.

Lily: He can sense your enthusiasm. So shhhhh

Alice: Do we still not like him?

Lily: No.

Dorcas: You know it was an accident, Lils. 

Lily: You don’t know that. And I don’t know that. And who in their RIGHT MIND asks someone out after they’ve pushed them into a fountain? Like, the audacity?!

Remus: At least he’s authentic

Lily: Yeah, an authentic bitch. 

Alice: Lol.

Alice: I’m honestly really interested in this Lesbian situation, though. Can we get back to that?

Remus: She’s in the engineering department. So if your cute little math loving butt just wanted to wander over there…

Alice: I’m on my way. 

Dorcas: Why are we friends? You’re joking, right? Please tell me you’re joking.

Dorcas: ALICE

Lily: They’re doing it out of love.

Dorcas: Well their idea of love is something I am not interested in. 

Alice: Blonde?

Dorcas: Fuck.

Remus: Is she blonde, Dorcs?

Remus: IS SHE?!

Dorcas: Yeah.

Alice: Marlene McKinnon. Blonde, blue eyed, I’d say 5”8, 5”9. Masters in Engineering. Very nice.

Remus: Alice, I fucking love you

---

Groupchat: The Walking Dead changed to Update, I’m still gay

Sirius: Why the name change?

Marlene: Needed to get your attention

James: But like… with that?

Marlene: It fucking worked, didn’t it?

Peter: What happened?

Marlene: I saw that beautiful woman again. And I was right. She was beautiful.

Sirius: Sounds riveting.

Marlene: I told you I’d keep you updated, and I am. Stop being ungrateful.

Sirius: Yes commander

James: Who was it?

Marlene: Don’t know. Short, black, curly hair?

James: Where did you see her?

Marlene: She was getting a plate of spaghetti in the Canteen.

James: Hm……….. 

Sirius: James doesn’t know anyone because he’s too busy mooning over Evans.

James: I am so much stronger than you. Do not come for me right now

Peter: Sirius, you have an appointment here, come down.

Sirius: Fuck. 

James: Peter, you know you can just text him personally, right?

Peter: I can’t shame him publicly if I only text him. 

Marlene: Facts.

James: Did you talk to her?

Marlene: Nah, she was with people. I wanted to though. She seems lovely. 

James: Lovely? Who are you and what have you done with Marlene McKinnon.

Marlene: She’s dead now. I’ve inhabited her body. 

Sirius: Thank god, she was a bitch.

Peter: SIRIUS

James: I’ll keep an eye out for her. Let me know if you want me to scout it out.

Marlene: Okay, James Bond

---

Groupchat: Hamlet, that’s fucking gay changed to Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it

Dorcas: Remus, stop changing the group chat name. I know where you live.

Remus: We live with each other.

Dorcas: Exactly.

Lily: Are there lesbian updates????

Remus: I met her. She was wandering around, looking for a pop machine. 

Alice: Yay! I love Lesbian updates

Remus: Good news: she’s funny. Like, super funny.

Lily: Saying good news like that often means there is bad news to follow

Remus: She’s uh… friends with Potter.

Dorcas: Uh-oh.

Alice: Oh no.

Lily: I’m really sorry that you have to eternally break up with this woman, Dorky. Because NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT. ANYONE who is friends with James Potter is not worth knowing.

Alice: That’s pretty judgemental, lils.

Lily: .... And?

Remus: Luckily, you don’t have to date her.

Dorcas: No one is dating ANYONE. Jesus, you guys. Chill out about this whole thing

Remus: I don’t think that’s physically possible. 

Dorcas: Can we talk about anything else?

Alice: Frank is taking me out for sushi tonight. 

Remus: I would marry Frank in five seconds, if he’d let me

Alice: I’ll let him know. 

Remus: Thank you, I appreciate it.

---

Groupchat: Update, I’m still gay changed to Emotionally Unavailable Idiots

Sirius: I have met the love of my life.

Marlene: Stop being dramatic

Sirius: Excuse me? EXCUSE ME? He quoted the Princess Bride with me. Word for Word? Marlene, I must marry this man. WHO IS HE?

Peter: Why do I keep missing all of the fun stuff?

James: The fun stuff is watching Sirius gay panic over a stranger?

Peter: Yeah. Obvs.

Marlene: He’s the lit professor.

James: Lupin?

Marlene: I think so, yeah. 

Sirius: An english nerd. Perfect. He can read me poetry while I give people tattoos. We’ll make millions. 

Marlene: I think… he wants to be my friend. He’s come around a few times. He even brought me coffee once, with a croissant. I didn’t know people were so nice to strangers. Am I in a hallmark film?

Peter: It’s cause you're such a catch, Mars. 

Marlene: I will shove that “catch” up your ass, Pettigrew, if you don’t stop being stupid.

James: Impossible. Stupidity is Peter’s middle name. 

Sirius: Yeah Peter Marcus Stupidity Pettigrew.

Peter: My middle name isn’t Marcus.

Sirius: Wait really?

Peter: No?

Sirius: Why the fuck did I think it was Marcus?

James: I think Lupin is bi, Sirius. So…

Sirius: James, you are the other love of my life. I will kiss you when you get home. You provide me with the most valuable information and attention. I can never truly repay you.

James: Finally. Getting the recognition I deserve. Can’t wait.

Sirius: Marlene, please. Be his friend, I am begging you. I will give you our first born child.

Marlene: Pass.

---

Groupchat: Dorcas McKinnon has a nice ring to it changed to I won’t hesitate bitch

Alice: Marlene is so nice

Lily: You’re all traitors. She’s friends with the enEMY

Dorcas: I thought Remus was supposed to be the dramatic one

Remus: I’ll take that as a compliment

Dorcas: Whatever helps you sleep at night. 

Alice: Seriously though. She’s so nice. A lot of my students have her and they’ve been gushing. Apparently she’s one of the best professors some of them have ever had.

Remus: Damn. High praise. 

Lily: Still skeptical

Alice: She asked about you, Dori. 

Dorcas: wait, what?

Remus: ALICE SAY MORE RIGHT NOW?!?!

Alice: She said she had noticed that you and I are close and she wanted to know about you. What your name is, what you teach, how long you’ve been working here, if you were single.

Dorcas: She did not ask that.

Remus: Dorcas, shut up forever. Alice is talking. Alice, my love, please continue. 

Alice: I may have invited her to eat lunch with us.

Dorcas: Uh…

Lily: You did what?

Alice: She’s new, Lily. I’m trying to help her make friends.

Lily: You did it, didn’t you. 

Alice: ummm

Lily: YOU TOLD HER SHE COULD BRING JAMES POTTER, DIDN’T YOU

Alice: He’s her friend. I couldn’t exclude him.

Lily: I never thought this would happen to me. To be betrayed so thoroughly by my own friends. I don’t even have the words. 

Alice: Who knows, it might be fun?

Remus: I’m so excited I could burst

Dorcas: Is it legal to drink on campus in the middle of the day?

Remus: Unfortunately not. Trust me, I’ve tried.

---

Marlene McKinnon to Dorcas Meadowes

Marlene: It was nice of all of you to invite me to lunch. I know it was probably awkward for all of you to have to spend time with a stranger. But I really appreciated it. 

Dorcas: No problem. You’re always welcome.

Marlene: Maybe… we could go get something to eat off campus sometime?

Dorcas: Yeah, of course. We go to the bar on Wright all the time.

Marlene: Oh, I meant like… just you and me. Actually.

Dorcas: Oh.

Marlene: Yeah. Did I guess wrong?

Dorcas: Guess wrong?

Marlene: About you being into women?

Dorcas: Ohhhh…

Marlene: ??

Dorcas: What did you have in mind? For our date?

Marlene: Wait, is that a yes?

Dorcas: I expect like, first class treatment, because I’ve seen you in action now. Anyone who can wrangle James Potter like that is someone who deserves knowing. So yeah. It’s a yes.

Marlene: Yay! Okay, you won’t regret it!

Marlene: Also, my friend is in love with Lupin.

Dorcas: wait, James? 

Marlene: Lol. Nah, James is still hung up on Lily. She’s wonderful, by the way. Tell her I’m grateful she was so kind. I know about what James did last year, so I can understand her bitterness. Fucking funny, though, to see it in person.

Marlene: It’s my other friend, Sirius. He owns the tattoo parlor, Cannis Major, on Levi. 

Dorcas: Hmm. Well, let me know what I can do. I’m sure we can get them in the same room at some point.

Marlene: Are you offering to meddle in people’s lives?

Dorcas: Is that okay?

Marlene: Dorcas Meadowes, I’m pretty sure I’m already halfway in love with you. 

Dorcas: Thank god. 

--------------------

This has been in my ask box for literal months. I’m sorry @tonftyhw !! I had finals and stress and I don’t know how to write. I hope this makes you smile though.

Clarifier for who teaches what if anyone is interested:

Lily-History

Remus-Literature

Dorcas-Art (painting)

Alice-Math

James-Chemistry

Marlene-Engineering/Physics

Sirius owns a tattoo shop because I will die for that AU every time. And Peter works with him, kind of like the brains of the business.

Should I write more of this? It was so fun lol 

#my writing #sirius black #wolfstar #remus lupin #james potter #lily evans #peter pettigrew #dorcas x marlene #marlene mckinnon #dorcas meadowes #alice longbottom #text conversations

[writtenonreceipts]

A Throne of Glass Fanfiction. Rowaelin.

8k words later and everything hurts.  I just kept writing and writing because I couldn’t make up my mind on what I wanted to happen or how to end it so here we are...part four? i seriously don’t know if i can or should fix it at this point, hahaha...ha. ha?

Warnings: angst. it hurts.

Based on a prompt I received here and you can find part two is here

PART 3

#

December 18th

“How are you today, Aelin?”

The was, without a doubt, her least favorite question.

Picking at her nails, Aelin shook her head.  There was so much to say and most of it wasn’t significant.  Did she talk about how she hasn’t had a decent night's sleep in over a month?  Or how she couldn’t concentrate at work for more than ten minutes?  Or maybe she could talk about the fact that her best friend and cousin were getting married and she was asked to play the piano as Lysandra walked down the aisle.

“I’m fine,” she said as she looked up.

Across the room Yrene didn’t look convinced.  Her curly brown hair framed her lovely features and accented the golden-brown light of her eyes.  She was a beautiful woman and Aelin had to wonder why she didn’t have a ring on her finger.  She was obviously successful, kind, attractive, and when Aelin wasn’t being stubborn—easy to talk to.

“If you’re going to lie to me, you may as well leave now,” Yrene said.  She leaned back in her seat and clicked her pen as she watched Aelin.

Sighing, Aelin ran a hand through her hair. “I don’t know how I am.”

“You don’t want to be here, we can start with that,” Yrene suggested.  She smiled knowingly and Aelin rolled her eyes.

“I don’t want to be here because I know it’s a waste of time,” Aeline said.

“But you came anyways.  Why?” 

“It’s what everyone expects of me,” Aelin said with a shrug. “So, I may as well get it over with.”

“So, you don’t think anything is wrong?” Yrene pressed. “There’s nothing keeping you up at night?  Your tapping foot is just a random occurrence?”

Aelin’s foot stopped.  She pursed her lips and glared at Yrene who smiled serenly.

“When we are in uncomfortable situations we have tells, unconscious ticks,” Yrene explained.  “I’m not trying to intimidate you; I hope you know you can be honest with me.”

Intimidate.  Yrene was not intimidating.  Not really.  Aelin just didn’t want to spill her problems out like this.  Not now.

“Why, despite everything, did you come today?” Yrene asked.

There’s no point lying.  Not when Yrene can point it out so easily.  Not when she doesn’t get much satisfaction out of it anyways.

“If I didn’t come, I would have had to go into a work meeting,” Aelin said, “and Sam would have been there.  And after that stupid party—I just can’t be around him right now.”

“Why do you think that is?” Yrene prods. “Are you embarrassed by what he may have seen with you and your friends?  That was the first time he really met any of them, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, I mean, we only got together a few months ago after I left,” Aelin replied, her foot began tapping again and she adjusted the bracelets on her wrist. “But why should I be embarrassed by him?  He treats me well; he cares about me.  But it was my first time seeing everyone in so long and I didn’t think he would have come.”

“You didn’t want him to meet everyone.”  Yrene’s words were innocent as they tried to make sense of Aelin’s rambling.  For which Aelin was grateful, at least one of them knew what was going on.  And yet...and yet they sent a chill through Aelin’s body.

“I didn’t want him to meet everyone,” Aelin agreed.  She met Yrene’s eyes. “Because as soon as he did everyone would try and assume that I was fine.  And dammit, fine is the farthest from what I am feeling.”

#

When she started therapy, Aelin had been back in Terrasen for all of twenty-four hours.  November twentieth was her first session with a woman who had a private practice and a website that declared her specialties lied in healing from trauma and working through anxiety and depression.  It was a simple profile.  One that Aelin wasn’t sure why she went for it, but in a spurt of desperation she’d made an appointment.

Almost a month later and at times, bi-weekly appointments, Aelin didn’t know if she were any better off than when she first stepped off the plane from Paris.

Sitting in her office near the end of the workday, Aelin scrolled through social media on her phone.  She really had to stop doing so, but staring at a computer screen full of fashion sketches or marketing reports was not appealing.  She unfortunately stumbled across a post Fenrys made not twenty minutes ago.

It was a simple picture of him, Lorcan, Conall, and Rowan.  Each dressed in a suit and tie.  Each handsome in his own right.  Of course, Aelin’s eyes lingered on Rowan.  Of course, she couldn’t help but imagine what he had done with himself over the past year.  Of course, she knew it was stupid of her to do so.

Landed an epic deal in Wendlyn! Got the best team around.

Aelin was surprised to see Fenrys had managed not to cure on the page, even if it was a work-related post.  Just as she was surprised that he had kept his innocuous verbage kept simple using only one “epic” and not a single “dude” or “rad.”  

The knock on Aelin’s door had her looking up and she found Sam staring in at her.  He had a handsome smile and his bright eyes watched her with interest.

“Hey,” he said, “you almost done here?”

Aelin glanced at her screen where numbers and approvals still needed to be inputted.  She was a terrible person.  How the hell had she been selected to go to Italy, let alone Paris, for those work assignments?

“Chock it up to the Monday brain, but I’m going to need to make it a late day,” she said regretfully.

Sam frowned and Aelin knew he could see right through her.  At least mostly.  He might not have seen everything going on in her mind, but he knew her enough to take an educated guess.

“Let me order take out and I can stay and help you,” he offered.

An unexplainable stab of emotion filled Aelin as she looked up at him.  He was too good to her.  Too good for her.

“I thought you had plans,” she said after she was able to school herself.

Sam smiled sheepishly.  “Just with your cousin and Dorian.  They invited me out for drinks.”

I didn’t want for him to meet everyone.

Just as soon as she’d swallowed down her emotions, the panic began to rise again.  Hell.

“Go.” She said.  The response surprised her.  It was the absolute last thing she wanted to say but the simple word slipped her lips before she could stop it.  “Go.  I’ll be fine.  It’s not much anyways.”

“You’re sure?” 

“Absolutely,” she lied.  

And because Sam was too good, he couldn’t hear it.  He couldn’t see the subtle shake of her foot or the way she adjusted the bracelets on her wrist.

Instead he crossed her office and leaned over the desk to kiss her.  Slow and languid.  He pulled back much too soon.

“I’ll call you later, yeah?” he said with a heart wrenching smile on his face.

“Yeah,” she replied and watched him go.  

It wasn’t long before five o’clock rolled around and he stopped by again to make sure she was fine working late by herself.  After she convinced him to leave, she waited.  She waited until the last of the interns and admins left before she pulled out her phone and made a call.

They picked up on the second ring.

“I’m going to send you an address,” Aelin said, “can you bring a few things and meet me there in an hour?”

#

“I thought I was mortal enemy number one on your hit list.”

Chaol Westfold.  Tall, muscular, handsome, and an ass.  

“Did you bring the cake?” Aelin asked.

He hefted a plastic bag up. “And the beer.”

“Then congratulations,” Aelin replied, “you are now welcomed back into the fold of friendship.”

Chaol looked as though that were the last thing he wanted, but he entered her office and shut the door behind.  He muttered under his breath about this not ever happening again as he unloaded the cake and beer.

Aelin immediately went for the cake.  Chocolate hazelnut with a creamy frosting.  It was the first thing she ate after getting back from Paris.  It had to be the best creation in the world.  She grabbed a plastic fork from one of the drawers in her desk and immediately dug in.

“Are we going to talk or am I just your cake supplier now?” Chaol asked.

Reluctantly, Aelin dug another fork out of her desk and tossed it to him.  He accepted, but he didn’t eat.

Aelin licked a blob or frosting from her fork. “Do you know why we broke up?”

“We lied to each other about everything,” Chaol answered.  Slowly, he scrapped a bit of frosting on his fork.  He contemplated his next words before continuing. “And we never talked about it either.”

“Right,” Aelin said, nodding. “Do you ever regret breaking up?”

That was the question that drove Chaol to a real bite of the cake and Aelin had to smother a laugh watching the sight.  Chaol never ate cake or chocolate or anything that wasn’t specifically for keeping in excellent shape.  So the sight of him actually enjoying eating the cake was the funniest thing she had ever seen.

“Of course I do,” Chaol said.  “At least, I regret how we broke up.  You’re the first woman I ever loved, Aelin.  The first one who really...I don’t know taught me how to live.”

She shook her head. “Nah.  I dragged you around into trouble.”

They sat in silence as they ate the cake.  Aelin ate far more than her share.

“You wanna tell me what happened?” Chaol asked.  “Or tell me how the hell you still have my number?”

She grinned viciously.  “I had to keep you in my contacts in case I needed someone to frame for murder.  And you were just the asshat to fit the bill.  Until you brought me cake.”

He rolled his eyes at her and cracked open a beer. “Why am I not surprised?”

Cackling, Aelin stuffed her face with more cake.  She knew that she couldn’t ignore his original question for long.  There was a reason she had called him and only him.  Maybe this was something she should have talked to Lysandra about.  Or even Yrene.  But there was something about her friendship with Chaol that no one else could fill.

“Rowan cheated on me,” Aelin finally said.  Chaol nearly choked on his beer.  She grabbed a few spare napkins to toss at him before continuing. “That’s why I went to Europe.  I had to get away.

Chaol sat quietly as she continued. She told him everything about the fight she had with Rowan, returning to his apartment, hearing what he did.  She told him about leaving.  About Sam.  About the party.

“He said he still loves me,” Aelin finished. “But if he does, if he ever did then why did he do what he did?”

It was a lot to put on Chaol.  He’d never cheated on her.  But he’d lied about various things.  She’d lied too of course, but they’d been fresh out of high school trying to live their lives.  She’d certainly loved him enough to have sex with him for her first time.  

And then they’d drifted further and further apart.  To the point that Aelin never knew who she was when she was with him.  It was unfortunate really because his friendship had helped her through the hellish years of high school and on into that first year of college.  And then it was gone.

“Have you talked to him?” Chaol asked. It was an innocent enough question, but Aelin could see the rise of his brow and knowing glint in his eyes.

Aelin sighed dramatically. "You should meet my therapist. All the two of you want me to do is talk."

"Aelin," Chaol said, his voice growing just a tick more serious.

"What is there to talk to him about?" Aelin stabbed at the cake, suddenly feeling ill which was far too disconcerting. "I know how I feel on the matter. So does he."

Chaol grunted unconvinced. "I doubt that."

She stuck her tongue out at him and grabbed the second beer he brought and settled in to mock him endlessly.

#

December 19th

"It's seven in the morning." Yrene frowned as Aelin pushed herself into the office.

"And yet you're already here," Aelin said.

She hadn't slept the night before. Not really even after talking to Sam who's had a riotous night with Aedion and Dorian. And all she could about was her conversation with Chaol. 

"To get ready for the rest of my appointments," Yrene said slowly, still watching Aelin with obvious confusion.

Settling down on the couch, Aelin looked up at Yrene. "Why do I still love him?"

Yrene pursed her lips and shut the office door before crossing to her own chair. She said nothing and simply waited for Aelin to continue.

"I mean, he hurt me, betrayed what I thought we had together, what we could have had together...and all he can say is I don't know what happened. Am I that replaceable to him?"

Yrene continued looking at her, quiet. But she had opened up her notebook and began taking notes on what Aelin was saying.

“I know what you’re going to say,” Aelin added, “and I have not talked to him yet.  I don’t think I can.”

Silence stretched through the room and Yrene clicked her pen as she stared at Aelin.  The latter woman staunchly avoided looking up from her nails.  It wasn’t until Aelin’s phone buzzed with an incoming text that she sighed heavily.

“Where do you feel safe, Aelin?” Yrene asked suddenly.  She leaned forward in her chair and fixed Aelin with a long look. “Where do you feel like you are in control and confident?”

Aelin made a face and shrugged. She’d never really thought about that before. “Serious answer?  There’s this dumpy little apartment that the company rents out for storage.  I go there when I need to get away.  Or the coffee shop down on Fifth.  A friend I met in Paris has family that owns it.”

“Okay,” Yrene said with a slow nod. “If, and only if, you feel comfortable I think you need to talk to Rowan.  You deserve closure on what happened.”

“You really don’t like me, do you?” Aelin asked.

Yrene smiled. “I really think you deserve more than what you are allowing yourself to have.”

Glancing at her phone Aelin sighed. “I need to get to work.  Let me know how much I owe you for this.”

Yrene assured her that she would and Aelin slipped out of the office.  

By the time she made it outside, a light snow began to fall.  The thick white flakes assaulted her and clung to her hair and coat.  Aelin muttered a curse.  She really did not miss the snow.  Nothing about it.  Not the cold, the ice, the distinct scent of pine that always seemed to come when the chill did.

Stuffing her hands in her pockets, Aelin hurried down the walk towards her work building.  Thankfully Yrene’s office was close to her own so Aelin was usually never late for work or gone long when she had her appointments during lunch.

She texted Sam and he met her in the lobby of their work building, coffee in hand.

“Hey babe,” he greeted with a kiss to her cheek.

Aelin smiled warmly and accepted her coffee, grateful to the immediate warmth that spread through her fingers.

“Thanks,” she said.  She leaned into his side as they made their way to the elevators. “You have fun with the guys last night?”

“They’re great,” Sam agreed.  When he glanced down at her a strange expression flashed on his face.

“What?” Aelin asked. “Dorian didn’t shove you into a rose bush, did he?”

Frowning, Sam shook his head. “No?”

“Never mind,” Aelin said quickly.  “He just does that sometimes.”

Sam still looked utterly confused and it was such an endearing look that Aelin rose on her toes to press a quick kiss to his jaw.

“They just mentioned something,” Sam began slowly, “it’s just, ah, they mentioned Rowan.”

Aelin nearly choked on her coffee.  Sputtering, she covered her mouth. “Rowan?  Why the hell would they?”

“It’s nothing,” Sam said quickly, “he was at the bar and they—I don’t even know what it was about.  It’s not a big deal.”

Aelin didn’t have a chance to say anything as the elevator opened on their floor and a group of interns was already waiting for Sam to sign off on orders and marketing issues.

“I’ll see you at lunch,” Sam called over his shoulder as he hurried off towards his office.

Aelin could only wave weakly as he disappeared.  Sometimes she wished she’d thought through starting a relationship with him a little better.  But after everything that happened with Rowan...Sam had been something new.  And she’d believed that something knew was just what she needed.

It didn’t help that sometimes Aelin could still feel Rowan’s hands on her, his lips ghosting hers.  She could still feel the rumble of his laugh when they spent late nights together and woke up early.  

Her stomach churned with acid.  The coffee was not sitting well in her empty belly.  At least she still had chocolate cake hidden in her office from her chat with Chaol.

But Aelin certainly didn’t want to feel this way.  Not anymore, not when she had been trying so hard to move on with her life.

So as soon as she got into her office, she pulled out her phone and sent a text.

#

Rowan without a doubt hated himself.

He had for a long time and without a doubt fully deserved it. So when he got a text from Aelin he promptly threw up in the nearest trash can of the office break room.

Fenrys laughed at him, absolutely pleased with how the morning was going.  Over the passed year they’d been working together, diving into a business management system to help companies and the likes from going bankrupt.  The only reason it was going so well was because Rowan did nothing else but work.  

"Dude, did you get wasted on a weekday again?" 

Rowan flipped him off and grabbed a cup to fill with water. He took a long drink before he glares at his friend.

"Aelin texted me," he said, "she wants to meet for coffee later. To talk."

"And your first response was to vomit?" Fenrys asked, brow quirked.

"Yes," Rowan affirmed.

"If you're looking for sympathy, you're not finding it from me," Fenrys said. He pulled a soda from the fridge and cracked it open, "I'm a sucker for Aelin and would choose her over you any day."

Rowan scowled. "Thanks man,"

"Anytime," Fenrys said. He ripped an invisible hat as he left the break room.

Rowan scrubbed a hand over his face. He knew that Fenrys was right. It was a miracle he'd even managed to hold onto any of his friends.  For some reason, they’d all stayed with him.  For the most part.  Elide and Lysandra were the exceptions.  Neither of them, no matter the situation, even bothered to look at him.

One year.

He didn’t blame them.

So now Rowan had the chance to meet with Aelin and, hopefully, talk to her.  If she yelled that was fine.  If she threw things at him that was fine too.  As long as he got the chance to be around her at least once more.

Oh hell he actually had to talk to her didn’t he?

It was going to be an impossibly long day full of Rowan hating himself and coming to terms with the fat that Aelin was going to kill him.  

And despite the fact that he’d had a year to prepare for this, Rowan couldn’t have been further from being ready.  In all honesty all the scenarios he’d come up with in the last year had not prepared him for this in the slightest.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, Rowan barely got anything done throughout the day.  Every time he would start on something his mind would begin to wander and he’d find himself on Aelin’s social media pages.  Which consequently would make things worse. 

Photo after photo were of her and Sam.  Italy, Paris, white beaches, and blue waters.  She was a goddess in each and every picture.  And the smile in each picture, Rowan had to remind himself, weren’t meant for him but for another man.  A man who knew how not to screw up the greatest thing in his life.

As he left his office, Rowan took care to avoid running into Fenrys, Lorcan, or any of the others.  He knew full well that Fenrys wouldn’t have kept his mouth shut and Rowan wasn’t in the mood for dealing with anyone else telling him he was an idiot.  Even Lorcan had avoided talking to him for several months after the incident.  Lorcan whose least favorite person was Aelin.

Granted Lorcan was a better man than he was on so many levels.

Brown shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts as he headed down the street towards the coffee shop Aelin had indicated.  It was a small place Rowan had passed by several times but had never bothered to go in.  The shop was small and had such a niche ambiance that Rowan never felt like he could go in.

Now as he entered the small space with its rich scents of chai and chocolate, Rowan’s concerns were confirmed.

A woman with chin length black hair and warm, bronze skin greeted him from behind the counter.  As Rowan glanced over the menu, he shouldn’t have been surprised that Aelin chose this place.  Half the menu was devoted to pastries.

“He wants a black coffee, Nesryn,” a soft voice said from behind him.  

Rowan winced and turned to where Aelin sat at a small table tucked into a corner.  She already had a large slice of cake in front of her.

Nesryn fixed Rowan with a glare and nodded while muttering under her breath in French.  He had no doubts that she knew exactly who he was.  Death was most certainly in his future.

Rowan waited until his coffee was finished and paid for--a generous tip added to the jar on the counter—before he joined Aelin.  

He didn’t know what to do other than pull the other chair out from the table and take a seat across from her.  They sat in silence like that for a long time.  Aelin slowly ate her slice of cake and sipped on her own drink.  Rowan was startled to see that it was a cup of tea instead of her standard double shot of espresso with hemp milk and cinnamon.

“You wanted to talk before,” Aelin said slowly.  It had barely been three days since that party and she couldn’t believe that she had actually let herself meet with him so soon after being staunchly against it.  She kind of hated herself for it, but she would deal with that later. “So let’s talk.”

She still didn’t look him directly in the eye.  Rowan could see creases in her makeup lining on her eyelids.  Her lipstick had long since worn off and he could tell she’d been chewing on her lips like always.  A habit that even a year hadn’t taken away.  She was still beautiful of course.

“I’m sorry, Rowan said immediately.  

Aelin flinched at his words and dragged her teeth over her fork as she scraped as much frosting off the tines as possible.

“And,” Rowan continued, “I can’t...I’ve never forgiven myself for what I put you through.”

Soft classical music played overhead.  It reminded Rowan so much of what Aelin liked playing--the gentle folds of notes blending together until they reached a crescendo of sound, of feeling.  And then slowly fading bad into those gentle folds.  

It wasn’t until a new track started that Rowan continued.  There was so much he wanted to say to her, but given with what he did he wasn’t entirely sure what good any of his words would do.  Perhaps they would at least help him move on.  Maybe.

“I never wanted any of this to happen.  I never wanted to hurt you.” Rowan stared at his coffee.  His words sounded hollow to his own ears and he couldn’t imagine how Aelin was handling his ramblings. “It just seemed for the longest time we were never on the same page.  Nothing was changing and we...we were barely treading water together.”

Aelin pushed the plate of cake away and crossed her arms over her chest.  Rowan could feel her eyes digging into him but he was too much a coward to look up and meet that gaze.

“So you left,” Aelin said.  “Instead of waiting and trying to make our relationship work, you ran.”

“I’ve regretted it every day,” Rowan whispered.

Music continued to play overhead and a few people trickled in to order drinks or dessert.  No one lingered long however, despite the empty tables, the warmth as compared to the outside.  In and out.  In and out, the customers drifted.

Aelin’s phone buzzed on the table.  She glanced at the message and sighed.  Barely sparing him a look, she stood grabbing her coat and pulled it on.

“I need to go,” she murmured.  

Finally, Rowan glanced up at her.  Her eyes were rimmed red, yet she hadn’t shed any tears.  Instead the sorrow on her face turned fierce.

“Aelin,” Rowan began, he started to rise, but Aelin held a hand up.

“My boyfriend needs me,” she said.  And then she spun on her heel and left the little shop.

Rowan stood next to that little table in the back corner of that shop and watched her go.  He watched through the front window until she crossed the street and disappeared around the corner.

He would never get over the idea of her walking away.

#

Sam was waiting for her in the kitchen of her apartment. He smiled brightly as he looked up from the stove. He was making something that smelled like spices, and warmth, and home.

"Alright, so this is something my mom used to make around Christmas," Sam said. He had a twinkle in his eyes and a dopey sort of grin on his face. "And I know you've had a long week."

Aelin can't help but smile gratefully. She hangs her coat up on the hook beside the door and drops her purse on the small side table there too.

"It smells wonderful," she said. Coming into the kitchen she took a seat at the counter so she could watch Sam as he chopped vegetables and slowly stirred the pot.  From what she could tell is was a stew of some sort.

"How was your day?" He asked. As if he didn't know. She'd told him that she was going to meet with Rowan, and while he might not have known what had transpired in that relationship, he'd known something. And especially after the conversation she’d had with Chaol, Aelin knew she had to open the doors of communication and honesty.

And it sucked.

“It’s better now,” she said.

He smiled softly and poured her a glass of wine.  It was different from what she usually drank but she was just grateful he was even here that he’d stayed.

When they first got together almost six months ago it had been something haphazard.  Slow but quick.  Random but natural.  And after everything with Rowan...Sam had helped her pull herself together. 

It had been something she’d never thought possible.  She’d thought that Rowan was her soulmate.  That he would always and forever be her person.  

As she sipped her drink, Aelin watched Sam work.  He talked endlessly about winter nights where he’d helped his mother with cooking dinner for the family.  The stew had been his favorite comfort food and thus figured it would be something she might enjoy.

And then he told horrible stories of other occasions where he’d burned dinner too.

Aelin cackled at the idea of him setting off the smoke alarm and having to wave a towel around like a madman.  

“I swear I was banned from the kitchen for a full month after that,” Sam laughed.  He set the table, simple settings of Aelin’s mismatched bowls and cutlery.  

“Well you can’t do anything worse than what I could do,” Aelin said.

Grinning, Sam pressed kiss to her forehead and took a seat next to her.

Through the meal, Aelin was able to press everything else about her day away.  She could forget Rowan.  She could forget the past year.  She could see herself changing.

Maybe it was that notion that caused her to lose her appetite.

“So, what prompted you to make me dinner,” she asked, pushing her half-eaten bowl away.  “Your text sounded off.”

Sam shrugged halfheartedly.  He’d removed his tie long ago and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone.  He looked so relaxed and at ease that the slight pang of panic Aelin had felt just moments ago returned full force.

“I’ve just been thinking about you,” he said honestly.  He smiled again in that same delightfully silly way that he had.

Aelin knew that wasn’t all that was on his mind.  She rolled her eyes and kicked him beneath the table. “And?”

He opened and closed his mouth before taking a large bite of stew to get out of answering.

Aelin stuck her tongue out at him and rose to get a start of dishes.

“Nope,” Sam said, he snatched a hand out and grabbed her wrist.  He swallowed his bite of food and shook his head. “You have no responsibilities tonight.”

“Oh?” Aelin arched a brow.  “None at all?”

Sam shook his head.

“Then why the hell am I not in my pajamas yet?”

Aelin ran her fingers through his hair and hurried off to her room, more than ready to be out of her work clothes.  And, in all honesty, needing to get away for a breath.

There was something about the way that Sam looked at her just now.  Something about how he’d been acting recently.  It wasn’t anything bad, but it was enough to make Aelin’s breath catch, her pulse race.  There was something about him.  The man.  

She’d never really noticed it before.  Not in all the time that she’d been dating Rowan.  But when she and Sam had been in in Paris working on the extended project together.  She’d seen in then.  There was compassion and honor written all along the threads that made Sam who he was.  And now...now those threads were becoming more and more noticeable.

By the time Aelin had changed, Sam was already started on the dishes.  He topped her wine off and allowed her to help him dry what wouldn’t fit in the dishwasher.

“Aelin,” Sam said after they’d started the dishwasher and left the last few items out to dry.

“Hm?” Aelin hummed taking a long sip of wine.

Sam stepped closer, placing his hands on her waist.  He was trim, lean, and obviously in good shape, but not bulky or broad like other men.  It didn’t deter Aelin’s attraction to him though.

She leaned into him, willing herself to play on those subtle emotions building in her body.

Sam pressed a kiss to each corner of her mouth before hovering just before her--waiting to give her a longer more meaningful kiss.

He’d been patient with her the last six months. Never pressuring her into sex or anything more intimate than she was ready for.  And Aelin would be forever grateful to him for it.  But she also couldn’t help but wonder how long that patience would last.

As Rowan had shown, men had their limits.

Aelin squeezed her eyes shut.  She would not focus on him.  Not now.  So she closed the distance between her and Sam and kissed him.  It was somewhat sloppy as he’d not been expecting her to move so suddenly, but Sam was quick to recover.

She could most certainly get used to him.  Every little thing about him.

“I love you,” Sam said.  So carefully his lips moved against hers as they sounded out the words.

I love you. 

I love you.

Aelin’s hands froze at the lower buttons of his shirt.  She’d gotten a little out of hand, not that she was too sorry.  But his words just reminded her what was really happening.

She opened her eyes and stared into his golden gaze.  Her throat constricted as she found herself pulling him closer, closer.

“You love me?” she whispered.

Sam nodded once, firm and definite.

Aelin felt her breath slip out too quickly from her lungs as she kissed Sam again.

December 20th

It was ten o’clock the next evening when Aelin was knocking at the door. Someone swore behind it and Yrene answered. She was still dressing for the day, still wearing makeup. Still holding her case notes in one hand.

"I'm going have to start charging you extra if you keep showing up like this," the woman said. But she let Aelin into the office all the same.

"Fine by me," Aelin replied. 

The office was dimly lit by a single lamp and a pile of take out containers from an Indian restaurant took over the table.

"So do you live here or what?" Aelin asked. She turned a lifted a brow at Yrene.

Snorting, Yrene ignored Aelin and crossed to the chair she usually took over and sat down.

"What are we talking about tonight, Aelin?" Yrene asked.

Why was she here? Aelin had no idea. She just knew she didn't want to go home. If she went home, she knew Sam would be there because he was too good for her. He was planning on a late night of hot chocolate and cheesy Christmas movies. And Aelin should want to be there. But she was the idiot who went out for coffee with her ass of an ex. An even bigger ass than Chaol had been.

"I talked to him," Aelin said. "At least I listened to him."

"And? Do you feel better?"

"No." Aelin answered immediately.  “Because my current boyfriend who is the best man I could ask for after the hellhole that is Rowan Whitethorn.  My current boyfriend told me he loves me.  And what do I do but give him a kiss and tell him thanks.  He barely left my place half an hour ago before I came here.”

Yrene gave her a bland look. “Don’t you have friends for this?  This is girl talk Aelin.”

Aelin cursed and pushed herself off the couch.  She stood there for several long moments. “Why can’t I love him?  I want to.  Dammit, I want to.  But, I just…”

“What?” Yrene prompted softly when Aelin didn’t continue.  “But what, Aelin?”

“But what if it happens again?” Aelin asked.  She looked at Yrene and shook her head. “I thought I could trust Rowan and then he cheated on me.  I think I can trust Sam.  But I just can’t go through it all again.”

Neither of them spoke as Yrene makes a note in her little booklet.  She lets Aelin stand there breathing heavily and collect her thoughts.

But Aelin isn’t thinking much aside from being angry.  Angry at Rowan especially.

“He had no right to tell me he still loves me,” Aelin said suddenly.  “If he’d really wanted to talk why would he do that to me?  Why would he put me in that position?”

“Would you have listened any other way?” Yrene asked.  Aelin shot her an angry look and Yrene held up a finger. “All I’m saying is that he might not even know how to deal with it all either.  Have either of you moved on?”

“I’m trying,” Aelin whispered.

“And I am so proud of you for that,” Yrene said with so much conviction that Aelin felt tears prick her eyes. “But I also want you to consider what else might be holding you back.  You talked to Rowan; you made that step.  What else can you do?  Do you think you could—”

Yrene cut herself off and frowned.  Aelin watched her have an internal battle.  

Finally, Yrene shook her head. “Do you think you could forgive him?”

Aelin cursed and stalked to the office door, closing it with a loud snap.

#

December 23rd

Rowan decided that he hated the holidays.

And he did not have to explain himself for it.

Besides, everyone basically already knew why he did.  And that it was his own fault for being in such a miserable state of existence.

Because of course he’d tried.  He’d tried to reach out to Aelin in the past year, just for some sort of reconciliation.  He’d never gotten anything in response.  Connall told him to try therapy.  Lorcan told him to try drinking himself to oblivion.  Fenrys had ignored him for the better part of the year.

And now they were in the holidays and Rowan had to at least try and not be a “broody old buzzard.”

As Aelin would have said.

He was a fool.  An utter waste of a fool.

“Remind me again why you’re having another holiday party?” Rowan asked Dorian that night.

Unlike the last party, this one was far more casual with far more alcohol and far less dress code.

“Because this one will actually be fun,” Dorian told him lightly.  

The man still didn’t like Rowan, of course, but he had been gracious enough to allow Rowan to join his other friends to the invite.

“Especially when Aelin gets here and skins you alive,” Doran added.  With a feral grin that he’d likely learned from Manon Blackbeak, Dorian slapped Rowan on the back with far too much force and left him alone.

He needed a whisky.

As Rowan went to get a drink, he heard more guests arrive.  He glanced up to see Elide Lochan give a squealing hug to Lysandra.

Elide, he knew, was a longtime friend of Manon’s as well as a somewhat potential girlfriend of sorts to Lorcan.  Rowan wasn’t sure and didn’t really want to ask knowing Lorcan would likely punch him.  Elide was also a friend of Aelin’s so he would also be avoiding her.

“Oh look, it’s the ass,” Elide said as she calmly slipped past Rowan to grab a beer for her and her friend.

“Lochan,” he said looking down at her.

She fixed him with a sharp smile that was mostly teeth and derision.  Lorcan better pray he never get on the woman’s bad side.

The night was progressing far too slowly for Rowan’s tastes and he debated to simply walk out.  No one really wanted him there anyways.  He had to squash that plan when Aelin entered, her new boyfriend at her side.

As always, Aelin looked phenomenal.  

Her hair was straightened and pulled into a low ponytail so it hung down her back.  Her makeup was simple with only bright red lipstick as the biggest accent.  If Rowan hadn’t already been screwed over by the sight, the tight black dress she wore did the trick.

Hell she was glorious.

But he shouldn’t look at her like that.  He had no right to.  Not anymore.

Rowan knocked back his whiskey and refilled his drink.  What was he even doing here?

Aelin was laughing too loudly at something Manon said.  The two it seemed had the potential of becoming friends which in and of itself should terrify everyone.

He knew he must have been staring too long and too intently because Aelin chose that moment to look at him.  The light that burned in her eyes snuffed out almost immediately and Rowan felt his heart squeeze in his chest.

He was a damned fool.

#

Like everything else in her life, tonight wanted to screw her over.

Aelin found Rowan staring at her.  Blatantly.  A slight haze of panic wrapped around her, until her felt Sam’s hand cup her elbow and pull her into his side.  For that she was grateful.  Grateful for that small ounce of support.  Even though she couldn’t quite focus on anything, she could focus on Sam and the fact that he was there.

“Oh, we’re so excited,” Lysandra said, pulling Aelin from her tunnel vision of self-doubt. “It’s a miracle there was even an opening at the venue, but it’s going to be perfect.”

“That vineyard is so beautiful,” Elide agreed.  She wore her hair long with her straight-line bangs finally growing out to the point that she could part her hair properly and style her hair the way she wanted to.  Aelin had tried to convince Elide that getting bangs was not a good idea.  But Elide had been drunk and on a mission.

“You’re going to make me play the piano outside?” Aelin complained. At least she could somehow contribute to the conversation even though she was lightyears away from the party.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” Lysandra insisted.  She sent a wink Aelin’s direction as if to prove the worries were unfounded.

Aelin rolled her eyes.

This was normal.  She could do normal.  She could do easy and relaxed.  All of her friends were here.  All of the people she knew and loved.  With of course the one exception.

“I just can’t believe you guys were able to squeeze your way onto the top of the list,” Manon said.  She not so subtly thrust a drink into Aelin’s hand.  Something that would most definitely get her drunk, no doubt.

There was the briefest of pauses where Lysandra and Aedion exchanged a look that was so quick and practiced that Aelin first thought how wonderful it was that they knew each other so well to communicate the way that they did and then a terrible sense of foreboding.

It was seconds.  Seconds spanning years.

“Rowan helped,” Lysandra finally admitted.  The guilt on her face was evident.

Aelin immediately took a sip of the drink Manon had made her.  Oh yes, it was certainly going to make her forget about the night.

“He knows someone who knows someone,” Lysandra added.  She glanced over her shoulder to where Rowan was still hiding near the kitchen.

His feature’s in their perpetual scowled lightened only for an instant. “My friend, Ren owed me a favor.”

“Ren?” Aelin couldn’t help but burst out.  Ren was the last person she would have expected Rowan to interact with.  Even though she was part of the reason the two even knew each other. “He hates you.”

“I became one of his managers in his company,” Rowan said softly.  He met Aelin’s eyes. “Helped him from going bankrupt.”

Her mouth went dry and she had to fight against her automatic instinct to drown the rest of the hellish drink in her hand.  Instead she nodded once.  Stiffly.

Well here’s to doing something right, she wanted to say.  She wanted to scream.  She wanted to do anything but stand there and tell Lysandra and Aedion how excited she was.

But what else was there?  She would not make a scene.  Not so close to the holiday.  Not when somehow everyone had moved on with their lives.

And then as a saving grace, her phone buzzed with an incoming call.

Deliberately, she leaned up to kiss Sam on the cheek before excusing herself.

By the time she made it to the hall outside the apartment, she’d missed the call entirely.  Aelin scowled to herself and headed downstairs.  As long as she had escaped, she would make the most of it.  

Outside, the wind had settled.  At least she had a coat this time.  Her coat with the long sleeves and deep pockets.  

The missed call was from Yrene which made Aelin roll her eyes.  Now who was bothering who?  But she called back all the same.

“Hello Aelin,” Yrene’s calm voice came on.

“Are you upset that I made it one day without bothering you?” Aelin asked with a low chuckle.  

She walked a few steps down the block, careful to avoid chunks of ice from a brief dusting snow last night combined with the sudden chill of last week.

“I just like checking in on my people,” Yrene said.  The line went silent for a minute. “Are you okay?”

Aelin let out a long breath, glad Yrene couldn’t see her.  But it seemed that the therapist could read people well enough without actually seeing their face.

“I’m fine,” Aelin said.  She tilted her head up to the dark sky and watched as the first few flakes of snow began to descend.

Yrene made a disbelieving grunt on the other end, but remained silent.

“I am,” Aelin insisted.  “I’m surrounded by my people.”

“Alright,” Yrene said, “let me know if you need anything.”

“I will,” Aelin promised.

As she hung up, she took a long breath and told herself it was fine for not going into everything with Yrene.  Because she was fine.  Really.

She turned to head back inside and came face to face with Rowan.  He remained a few feet off, just descending the steps from the apartment building.  At first, it seemed he didn’t even see her.  Until he turned.

They stood there, feet apart.  Worlds apart.  So far from where they had been.

“I was just leaving,” Rowan said.

Aelin stared.

“I didn’t even want to be there anyways,” Rowan continued.

Snow continued to fall.  The large flakes weren’t that imposing.  It would end quickly, at least that’s what Aelin had always heard.  A large snow would come and go, but the small one always lingered.

“Why would you even be there?” Aelin asked.  She shook her head, stuffing her hands in her pockets. “You don’t even like Dorian.  And Lys and Aedion will tie you to a spit and burn you alive.  Why—”

She cut herself off before saying something truly unnecessary.  Collecting her thoughts, Aelin breathed in the bone chilling air. 

“Don’t you realize how hard this is for me?  I’m done trying Rowan.”

He let out a hollow laugh. “Try?  Did you try Aelin?  Or are you just like me, running away.  It’s what you did back then too.”

“Don’t you dare put this on me,” she hissed.

Aelin drew herself up so close to him.  Close enough to smell his cologne.  It hadn’t changed in all this time.  Close enough to see the dark flecks of his green eyes.  They were just as bold as before.  Close enough to remember.  

Tears sprung to her eyes as she stumbled back.  Too close.  Too close.

Rowan cursed and ran both hands through his hair.  The longer bits fell into his face, cutting across his features.

She wanted to tell him good-bye.  Wanted to say that this was it.  She was done.  Because she was, wasn’t she?

“I’m sorry,” he said.  So soft that the words were almost swept away on the snowflakes curling past. “I didn’t mean that.  I just...Dammit Aelin, I don’t know how to do this.  I don’t know how to erase myself from your life.  From my life.  When even after all this time it’s always been you.  It’s only been you.”

The snow fell around them.  The thick tufts turned into tiny specks.  There was so much that Aelin almost lost sight of Rowan, even though she stood mere feet from her.

Bastard.  Bastard for doing this to her again.  

Because all she could see was that woman, Lyria, leaving the apartment building.  A smug, secret sort of smile on her face.  And the woman couldn’t have been more different from Aelin.  Dark hair, tanned skin.  Small and petite.  And all Aelin could see was Rowan’s hands roving another woman.  His lips…

Aelin shuddered.

“I’m going to spend the rest of my life regretting what happened,” Rowan continued.  He was the one coming closer now.  He reached out to catch her when she turned away, his grip soft enough that she could have left if she’d tried.  “I’ll spend the rest of my life hating me for what I did to you.  To us.”

His words were too soft, too gentle.  Aelin found herself staring up at him with the tears in her eyes that she would not let fall.

She would not break.  Not now.  Here she was falling into the sense of love and life he always provided.  Hell.  What couldn’t she just let him go?

Aelin pressed a hand against Rowan’s chest.  The sweater he wore was thick but she could still feel the steady thrum of his heart beating an uneven rhythm.

“I’ll spend the rest of my life hating you for that too,” she said.

And then she pulled away.

#

Seriously though, idk what happened here. Oh boy, ooooohhhh boy.  thanks for reading my dears.  love y’all!

AND I promise that I do have stuff in the mix that’s not so angst ridden.

tags, if i missed/you don’t want to be tagged-- let me know, I’m trying and failing at getting my life in order.

@ladywitchling  @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire  @aelinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx  @bamchickawowow​ @sjmships  @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln

#angst #rowaelin #rowaelin au #aelin ashryver galathynius #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #aelin and rowan #aelin x rowan #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction

[frosty-the-killer-doll]

Just meanstiel things

Horror bingeathon nights

Meg and Dean share bubblegum all the time and just spit it straight into the other’s mouth. They also do this whenever one of them finds an incredibly weird/bad-tasting drink and instead of just giving the other the container, they just take a big swig and spit it directly into the other’s mouth. Yeah they nasty

On the contrary, whenever someone tells Mean they nasty, they immediately start acting like an old married couple calling each other “schnookums” and making kissing faces. Cas deals with it

Mg appreciates Cas’ blunt honesty. It’s a trait that’s slowly rubbing off on her, too, along with Dean

Meg once described Dean as “like if an alt-right southerner hate-fucked a real southerner and out popped a beanie baby that they then heavily traumatized.” As such, his nickname is “deanie baby.”

Meg makes them try crop tops. Bi panic ensues

Meg’s openly bi and polyamorous, so she really helps Dean to understand his own sexuality and the do’s/dont’s of polya

Dean and Cas are super fucking awkward after Cas is revived and god Meg just cannot stop trying to get those boys to make the fuck out already

Like. Seriously. I’m talkin’ mistletoes when it’s not December, I’m talkin’ forging valentine’s when it’s not February, I’m talkin’ Meg sending one of them a bouquet and signing it the other’s name. Sam’s in on it, but only because Meg doesn’t have the money for that type of shit. Before she brought Sam in, she’d just have Ruby mug a bitch

Destiel thinks Meg’s games are cruel, but as long as Destiel keeps coming up to each other just to ‘doublecheck’ that a new thing was Meg’s doing, they have a reason to talk about it, so Meg’s not letting it go because Dean’s a fucking idiot

Everyone knows Destiel’s real. The only ones that don’t know are Destiel. Cas thinks it’s unrequited, while Dean thinks he cannot possibly be into guys. Meg is a big reason why they figured their shit out, mainly because she walked up to them one day, kissed both, and said “we’re dating now” all matter of fact and both were too surprised to respond

Destiel first kissed when Meg dragged them to a bar and forced them on the dance floor. It was not a good kiss, or a long kiss, it kinda just happened because well their faces were so close to Meg’s and Meg was kissing them and it felt weird to not kiss the other. Destiel didn’t want to be rude y’know?

Meg was like fUCKING FINALLY and held their hands on the way to the bathroom so they could figure out how to have a drunken makeout session with three players

Mutually peer pressuring Cas into getting out of his comfort zone

Meg making Dean fully embrace his dorkiness

Dean: “hey meg can you,, teach me how to apply makeup” meg: “i’ve been waiting for this day all my life”

Cas just randomly giving them affirmations about themselves all the time. Like damn boy slow down or they’re going to fall in love w/ you (too late)

Meg and dean have so much pda. Just all the time. Please stop grinding in public you’re mentally scarring the children

Cas really likes holding their hands. Dean likes putting his arms around them. Meg likes hugging them. They’ve attempted to do all three at once multiple times. Bones are broken. They do not stop

Cas takes them to horror houses. First guy that jumped out, Meg decked em. Dean then kicked them. Mean then beat the shit out of this poor actor. Cas watched and did nothing. It has since become a tradition of theirs. They are banned from horror houses nationwide.

Cas and Dean are all sweet domestic bfs. Dean still sputters whenever Cas gives him a lil smooch or puts his hand on his back or matches his stride or puts his hand on his shoulder or they laugh together or when Cas smiles or laughs or breathes-

(and meanwhile Megan™ wakes up everyday and immediately chooses violence)

The biggest wedding. Giant as fuck. Their ceremony crossed multiple state lines

They have an awkward and long discussion about kids, Meg instantly outlining that just because her body is cis that does nOT mean she wants to deal with pregnancy and, quote, “dean your dick don’t work” (transgenderism). After this dramatic talk about their future, Meanstiel decides that Miracle is enough trouble as is, and they’re sure Claire and Jack will still need ‘em, so they’re great where they are now, child-free by choice.

Cas surprises Dean with comic con tickets. Dean makes them cosplay as Cyclops, Wolverine and Jean Grey.

Cas gets Meg really into podcasts

Cas acts as Meg and later Dean’s model for makeup and clothes

Cas is always showering them in gifts. Dean keeps sayin that he doesn’t have to, man, but he secretly really, really likes the look Cas gives Meg or him when they’re excitedly opening a new gift. Meg is always delighted at the presents, but feels just a tad, tiny bit bad that Cas never expects anything in return, so everytime Cas gets them something, Meg and Dean get him something, usually more flashy and more expensive. All three are now competing for best gift giver. It’s a vicious cycle

Meg crudely draws them nsfw art. Cas once tried to pin one on the fridge. So much screaming ensued

Dean and Cas usually fall asleep alone in their bed as Meg is a night owl, but always wake up with her in a dogpile that was definitely started by her

Meg once wore Cas’ suit. Dean was red for days

And if you’re wondering, Cas wore Meg’s clothes because she’d stolen his suit. Meg wears mostly leather and croptops. Dean was red for days

Meg is Dean’s “no personally I’m sexy as hell” to Dean’s “i wanna die lol.” Cas is their “what the fuck you’re both the most beautiful beings on this planet how could you, Dean, be so kept down by self doubt and depreciation and Meg, how could you let yourself be so wrapped up in yourself that you don’t see the pain around you? You’re better than this. Both of you. You’re so much better than what you think you are.” Meg and Dean instantly start crying

As Sam and his quad (eileen, rowena, gabriel) convert the bunker into a hunter center, the three eventually move out and conform to a somewhat normal life in the country, still wreaking havoc and kicking ass, but now they have their own little farm and flowerbeds and tree swing and are happy to be semi-retired from their previously batshit lifestyle. Of course, they take close cases and always help the hunters in need, but they spend most of their afternoons laying in the grass and cloudwatching and snuggling and picniccing and playing with Miracle and swimming in that nifty little lake by the forest’s entry. They’re sweet, and soft, and feel more human than ever. Most importantly, they’re so happy, with themselves and each other. Dean learns to appreciate the little things that make him great, Meg learns to deconstruct her ego and pay attention to what other people need, and Cas finally allows himself to feel all the things that humans feel, and to be honest about them without fear or doubt. They’re just… happy, y’know? They deserve that. They’re in love and they love it

#meanstiel #supernatural #spn #dean winchester #castiel novak #spn cas #meg masters #destiel #megstiel #deanmeg #megdean #spn mean

[waywardnerd67]

Heartache & Whiskey

Summary: (Y/N) keeps dreaming of her ex to the point where she reaches out to him to get whatever closure she can. Little did she know fate would step in and set her feet on the path she was always meant to be on. Characters: Jensen Ackles, Joel (OMC),  Reader Pairing: Joel (OMC) x Reader (Past) / Jensen x Reader Warnings: Angst/Fluff/Smut Word Count: 3806 Prompt: “I don’t owe you an explanation.” / “I dare you to kiss me.” / “I bet the neighbors know my name.” A/N: For @supernatural-jackles SPN Bi-Weekly Writing Challenge

The familiar room brought a tightness around (Y/N)’s chest. Furniture all in the same spots and pictures of them hung on the wall. Smiling faces with dark secrets hidden behind them. His piercing cobalt eyes made her heart skip still. With everything that had happened between them, his power over her was still overwhelming.

“Hey (Y/N)...” his deep voice brings shivers down her spine.

Turning around he was standing there dressed in the same clothes as the day he left. Her favorite blue button down shirt and black slacks. She now hated that shade of blue with every fiber of her being. Her chest ached as her heart thumped firmly against it.

“W-What are you doing here?” (Y/N) took a couple of steps away from him, but he matched her movements.

“I needed to see you. I made a mistake by leaving you. I thought what I wanted was something else, but it’s not. I should have realized what I had from the beginning. I need you in my life.”

He reached out and took her trembling hand in his, their fingers lacing together. The very words she had prayed to hear finally floating to her ears. Pulling her in against his body, (Y/N) immediately relaxed into his embrace.

“Joel…”

(Y/N) woke up her heart beating rapidly as her alarm beeps continuously. Taking a few deep breaths, she dismissed the alarm and groaned. It was the fourth time this week she had that very dream. She swung her legs over the edge of her bed letting a brisk rush of air escape her lips in frustration. (Y/N) knew Joel would never utter those words to her even if he was paid too. He did not love her. Honestly, she assumed he never did. She was convenient at the time for hiding the secret he had.

There was something about this dream that made her doubt her reasonings. Maybe, just maybe, she should reach out to him. Looking at her phone, she hurriedly grabbed her clothes and made her way to the bathroom to get ready for work. Her roommate, Kenzie, is already up and making coffee in their kitchen.

“Another dream?” she handed her a travel mug of the liquid energy as she nodded, “Well try to forget about it and focus on the fact that my brother is coming to stay the weekend with us.”

(Y/N)’s brow crooked upward, “The actor, right?”

Kenzie rolled her eyes, “Yes the actor. You should check out his show instead of always hiding your nose in a book.”

(Y/N) chuckled, “No thank you. I’ll stay in my books since that is what I get paid to do. Now, I’m off to see the wizard.”

“Have a wonderful day, Dorothy!”

(Y/N) sat at her desk with a pile of manuscripts to read, unable to focus. She pulled up Joel’s Facebook page, something she had not done for months, seeing a few things had changed. His profile picture of just a picture of himself and his relationship status was set to single.

“Trouble in paradise after all…” she muttered, clicking out of the window.

She pulled up their last email exchange from over a year prior. For a full minute she hovered the cursor over the reply button before clicking it.

“Hey Joel, it’s been a while. I was hoping to talk with you about a few things if you're available. There’s a coffee shop at 6th and Main Street. Will you meet me there at six o’clock? Hope you’re doing well, (Y/N).”

She minimized the window revealing her desktop picture of Kenzie and her in Dallas visiting her family. Smiling (Y/N) picked up the nearest manuscript and began reading. She was packing up for the day when she checked her email seeing a reply from Joel.

“Hey (Y/N), nice to hear from you. Luckily, I have nothing on my schedule for tonight so I’ll be there at six. See you then, Joel.”

(Y/N) took a shaky breath as butterflies filled her stomach. Grabbing her things, she made her way home to get ready for whatever this meeting was to bring. Upon entering her apartment, the spicy scent of Mexican food being cooked hit her.

“Kenz, please tell me you’re not trying to cook again?” She turned the corner to find a tall, muscular man standing in front of their oven, “Who are you?”

As he turned around, (Y/N) was awestruck by his striking features. He had short, sandy brown hair and shining emerald eyes peering into hers. His perfect, plump lips spread wide revealing perfect teeth beneath them. His broad shoulders and chest narrowed into a lean waist with long legs. He was truly the most beautiful man she had ever seen in her life.

“Hi, I’m Jensen, Kenzie’s brother.” He held his hand out to her.

She placed hers within his and an electric current shot up through her arm making her suck in a short breath, “H-Hi…”

At the moment, Kenzie came bounding in, “Oh good you two met. Jensen is making his famous enchiladas.”

(Y/N) tore her eyes away from the stunning man cooking delicious food in the kitchen to her phone for the time. She had fifteen minutes to get to the coffee shop at the corner of her street.

“It smells great. I have to meet someone at six at the coffee shop, but it should be no more than an hour. Is that okay?” Looking up at Kenzie she found her soft olive eyes narrowing in on her.

Jensen placed his arm around his sister’s shoulders, “Yeah, I just started cooking so it will take me a little while. I can always keep it warm in the oven. Take you time.”

(Y/N) smiled with a nod before grabbing her purse and heading for the door. She could still feel Kenzie’s eyes on her as she shut it behind her. Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) walked out of her building’s lobby and towards the coffee shop.

Stepping inside, she looked around seeing she was the first one to arrive. She ordered her normal drink and picked a table towards the back that was slightly private. After twenty minutes of waiting, she pulled out her phone to check her email to see if he had sent her anything. Annoyed to see he had not, she messed with her empty cup.

“May I join you?” the smooth voice surprised her as she looked up to see Jensen standing with his own coffee in hand.

He took a seat across from her as panic filled her body, “What are you doing here?” she whispered harshly.

He smiled softly, “Well it was me or my sister. I figured I was more level headed than she was. She swears you’re meeting your ex here.”

As she rolled her eyes she noticed Joel walk in the door, “Crap. Of course she would know what I was doing.”

Jensen followed her line of sight and scoffed before moving to the chair next to her. He rested his arm across the back of her chair. Joel approached their table with a stern look on his face.

“(Y/N).” His voice was cold and sharp, “Who’s this?”

“Jensen, nice to finally meet you Joel. Heard a lot about you.” Jensen shook his hand firmly holding his gaze.

Joel sat down frowning, “Trust me, it’s probably all a stretch from the trust.”

Now it was (Y/N)’s turn to frown, “Jensen is my roommate’s brother.”

“Whatever. So, what did you want to talk about? I don’t have that much time.” Joel looked down to his expensive watch and then looked towards the door.

Between Joel’s abrasiveness and Jensen’s mere presence, she found herself at a loss for words, “U-Um… I just thought maybe we could catch up on life.”

“So you just wanted to show off your pretty boy toy here. That is so like you, (Y/N).” Joel rolled his eyes.

“No.. it’s not…” She felt Jensen’s fingers trailing down her arm as she snapped her eyes to Jensen pursing her lips into a firm line, “Tell him.”

Joel stood up, “I don’t have time for your games (Y/N). That’s why I left you in the first place. Trying to be someone you’re not. You’re truly pathetic.”

Her heart shattered and shame washed over her body. As Joel walked away, Jensen stood up leaning in towards her, “Walk out after me and kiss me.”

“What?!” she snapped.

“I dare you to kiss me. Come after me and kiss me.” Jensen started after Joel.

She watched as the two men, Jensen clearly a few inches taller than Joel, having heated words. (Y/N) grabbed her purse and made her way outside just in time to hear Joel yell.

“I don’t owe you an explanation! She’s all yours.”

(Y/N) stepped in front of Jensen pushing her body up and pressing her lips firmly against his. His strong arms wrapped around her waist immediately before his hands traveled up her sides and cupped her face.

“(Y/N) don’t contact me again. Bitch.”

Jensen pulled away from her. His jaw clenched as a low growl rumbled in his chest, “Son of bitch…”

“D-Don’t. He’s not worth it and I should have known better.” She pressed her hand against his chiseled chest, “T-Thank you for putting on their charade.”

His hands were resting on her shoulders as he closed his eyes taking a deep breath. She was surprised when he leaned his forehead against hers, “I’m just glad I could help you out. That dude is a douche and you deserve better than him.”

(Y/N) took a step back from Jensen shrugging, “I guess, though your sister will tell you I’m only attracted to douchebags.”

“Are you attracted to me?” He had closed the distance between them once again by slipping his arm around her shoulders and leading back towards her apartment.

She chuckled, “I don’t think there’s a person breathing who doesn’t find you attractive.”

They walked through the lobby doors and up the stairs entering her apartment once again. After hearing the riot act from Kenzie they all sat down to eat dinner. (Y/N)’s stomach churned as she pretended to move her food around her plate. Kenzie decided to go out with her friends for the evening as Jensen told her he just wanted to relax after traveling.

(Y/N) sat at one end of the couch with a manuscript in her lap. Jensen was at the other end flipping through various shows and movies on Netflix. The air between them, sending  electric currents throughout her body making her restless. Giving up on her manuscript, she got up pulling out her secret stash of whiskey and two glasses.

“I don’t know about you but I could use a drink.” She handed him a glass pouring the amber liquor until half full and then one for herself.

After an hour of drinking, (Y/N) and Jensen were swapping stories of their childhoods and lives. Rich laughter echoing throughout the apartment. After the bottle was near empty the overwhelming sadness she had been trying to keep at bay washed over her. The tears that had threatened to fall now breaking through the dam she had built up. Jensen was sitting on the floor in front of her with his head resting on her knee.

When she could not keep the sniffle from escaping her lips, she tried to play it off. Jensen’s deep olive eyes cut through every defense she had up. He sat next to her on the couch and pulled her into his side.

“Let it out, (Y/N). It’s okay.” His tender kindness broke the final wall and she unleashed the overwhelming anguish, embarrassment and shame that had been buried deep within her.

(Y/N) did not know how long they sat there, but finally the tears stopped falling and the pain subsided for a brief moment. Jensen took off his long sleeve plaid shirt leaving himself in a plain black t-shirt. He wiped her face softly. She looked up at him and before she could think about what she was doing, (Y/N) kissed him.

As she was going to pull away from him, Jensen’s hands went to her waist lifting to straddle his lap. The tip of his tongue pressed against her lips asking permission that she willingly gave to him. He kissed her slowly and his hands slid up her sides to her either side of her face. They parted each of them with labored breaths. Suddenly, everything Joel said hit her and she scrambled away from Jensen.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have…” She walked into her bedroom running her hand through her hair.

Jensen was right behind her, “What are you apologizing for?”

(Y/N) shook her head, “He’s right about me. I’m nothing. You’re a nice guy, with a great career, a loving family. You should be with someone more beautiful, smarter, more creative. Not with a loser like me.”

She yelped in surprise as Jensen caught her elbow and spun her to him. Her hands braced against his chest as he held her shoulders firmly.

“I don’t believe anything that jackass says. He’s so full of himself that the only person that will ever satisfy him is him. It’s his loss for not seeing how incredibly lucky he was to have you in his life.”

She scoffed trying to look away from him, “You don’t even know me.”

Jensen loosened his grip only to wrap his arms around her, “I feel like I do know you though. From Kenzie talking non-stop about how talented you are. Writing, painting, singing. You’re incredibly smart because my dad hasn’t stopped talking about you beating him while watching Jeopardy. Your kind, loving, caring for those who are in need according to my mom and her church group.”

(Y/N) bit her bottom lip as he continued, “I can see for myself how stunningly beautiful you are that is amplified when you laugh. Your eyes are soulful. Your smile is blinding. Your body is alluring.”

His lips inched closer and closer to hers with each word he spoke. His breath fanning across her lips and his eyes closed as if he were holding back.

“Show me.” Her voice just barely above a whisper but all Jensen needed to hear.

Their lips crashed together as Jensen scooped down picking her up and wrapping her legs around his waist. He laid her down gently on the bed as his lips trailed down her neck. His hands sliding her shirt up over her head briefly breaking their connection before his lips continued their path down her body. Unhooking the front closure of her bra, his tongue darted out over his lips.

“Gorgeous.” He murmured against her skin.

A soft sigh escaped her lips as his tongue swirled around her peaking nipple. Her hands threaded through his soft hair as he suckled her breast and cupped her other breast with his hand. In a brief moment of clarity, (Y/N) realized just how starved she was of the touch of a man. She wanted his mouth and hands everywhere on her body. She lifted her hips slightly to press her against his firm body relieving some pressure.

He chuckled pushing himself up just enough to look down at her, “Patience. You wanted me to show you how wonderful, beautiful, amazing you are. That takes time pretty girl.”

She let out a shaky breath as he continued kissing down her body. Never once did she feel insecure or uncomfortable with her body. Jensen painstakingly took his time undressing the rest of her until her body was bare. He kneeled beside her, his eyes roaming her body taking it all in.

“There are no words to describe how stunning you are.”

She felt her cheeks burning under his gaze as he ran one finger down the length of her body. He stopped just before hip bone dragging it back up.

“I think you have too many clothes on.” The confidence in her voice surprised her, but smiled as Jensen laughed softly.

He pulled the bottom of his shirt over his head and her eyes widened. His body was tone and sculpted as if an artist had created him. He unfastened his belt and jeans pushing them along with his boxers to the ground stepping out of them. A soft gasp escaped her lips as her aching mound clenched upon seeing his long, thick cock standing out. Instinctively, (Y/N) licked her lips then looked up into his dark, passion filled eyes.

He knelt onto the bed gently taking her hand and wrapping her fingers around his shaft. A low groan sounded from him as she slowly slid her hand loosely up his member. Her thumb circling his slick, swollen head. Jensen leaned down just enough for his long fingers to slip between her slick folds.

“Ohhh…” (Y/N) sighed, her head pressing back against her pillow. His fingers made a few more slowly passes against her as she kept the same pace stroking his cock.

“Shit!” she cried out grasping his thigh as he pushed one then two fingers inside of her, “More… I need more Jensen.”

He pulled his fingers from her bringing them to his lips, “Mmm, you taste so sweet pretty girl.”

She watched in awe as he pulled her to the edge of the bed and knelt in front of her. Kissing down either side of her inner legs before pushing her knees towards her head. With one long stride of his wide tongue against her aching clit she cried out his name. Her hand tugged at his hair as he ravished her. The coil deep within her was wound tight as she abandoned all control grinding herself against his face. His tongue pushed inside of her repeatedly before moving up to her clit and sucking hard.

“Fuck! Jensen!” The wave of pleasure wrecked her body as he lapped over her quivering mound.

Jensen crawled up her body stroking himself slowly, “Are you sure?” His eyes were soft and kind as he asked.

“Absolutely.” (Y/N) wrapped her arms around his shoulders as he rubbed the tip of his length along her slit, “Please Jensen, I need you.”

He slowly pushed himself deep inside of her. His head buried in the crook of her neck muttering as he did, “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

She could not help the giggle that came from her and with a snap of his hips she cried out hearing him say, “I wasn’t expecting you to be so tight. God, you’re so fucking perfect.”

“Jensen move. Please, please move.” She pleaded wrapping her legs around him as well.

He slowly began to move against her. Small grunts and pants coming from them both. His arms slipped under her back and his hand gripped her shoulders. The way he stretched her perfectly hitting every glorious, sweet spot she had long forgotten about. Tears slipped down the corners of her eyes from the intensity of his love making. She truly felt every word he was whispering in her ear.

“So beautiful. So amazing. So perfect. You’re amazing, (Y/N).”

He pushed himself up bracing his weight on his hands as his pace picked up. The sounds of their skin meeting echoing throughout the room. Her bed frame squeaking with each thrust and her headboard rhythmic thumping against the wall. Droplets of sweat slipped down his jaw and onto her. (Y/N) began meeting his thrusts bringing her closer to the edge of bliss.

“I’m so close, pretty girl. Come with me.” He grunted as his thrusts came in feverish, short bursts.

(Y/N) felt his body tense for a split moment before beginning to shake pushing her over the edge crying out his name, “Jensen! Oh god Jensen, I’m coming!”

Jensen slowly pushed into her, riding out his own climax. He arms trembling from holding his weight up. (Y/N) pulled him down on top of her wrapping her legs around him as he slowly pulled out of her. She could feel him chuckling as she groaned from the loss of their connection. He rolled onto his side pulling her to him.

“I bet the neighbors know my name.” A wide grin spreading across his handsome face.

“I think my neighbors are going to have to get used to hearing your name.” She matched his grin as his body shook with laughter.

He kissed her forehead, “So, you would be okay with us doing that again?”

She nodded snuggling into his chest exhaustion threatening to take her. She felt his lips on the top of her head as she fell into a deep sleep.

The next morning, (Y/N) woke to an empty bed. If it had not been for her sore muscles she might have thought it was all a dream. She grabbed Jensen’s black t-shirt and her panties walking out to the smell of coffee and bacon.

“Mornin’.” she mumbled, rubbing her eyes.

“Hmm, good morning pretty girl.” Jensen picked her up, sitting her on the counter and stood between her legs.

He was wearing his jeans as she hooked her ankles around his back, “I could get used to you cooking breakfast.”

Jensen held a piece of bacon to her lips and she took a bite as he spoke, “Does that mean you could get used to you and I being more?”

“I thought the passionate love making clearly answered that.” She chuckled as he plated the remaining bacon.

“It answered certain questions as in, we will most definitely be doing that again and again. Probably on any surface I can possibly get you on.” She bit her lip thinking of all the possibilities, “However I’m still a little fuzzy on the whole ‘more’ thing.”

(Y/N) placed her hands on either side of his face seeing a rare moment of insecurity in his eyes, “Handsome, I’m all yours if you want me. Just know I’m honestly not perfect and I will fuck up all the time.”

He leaned forward, “I’m not perfect either. My schedule is crazy with filming in Vancouver. Our fans are fierce, protective and loyal, but supportive. I’m going to fuck up a lot as well.”

She kissed his lips, “I’m good with that.”

“Are you two decent in there because my god the sounds coming from your room were not last night.” Kenzie’s voice carried into the kitchen as Jensen and (Y/N) began to laugh, “Thank god! Now pass the bacon.”

Jensen handed her the bacon but as he passed (Y/N) he whispered, “I’m all yours as well, pretty girl.”

If you enjoyed this story then check out my Masterlist!

My Nerd Herd: @waywardbaby @ladywinchester1967 @akshi8278 @ericaprice2008 @deans-baby-momma @spnbaby-67 @dean-winchesters-bacon @carryonmywaywardcaptain @-lovepeacenhope- @destiel745 @carribear31 @srsllydunnodoncare @whimsicalrobots @thisismysecrethappyplace @starstruckzonkoperatorbat @adoptdontshoppets @mrswhozeewhatsis​ @bella-ca​ @drakelover78​ @imascio08​ @pisces-cutie​ @dwgrl1903-blog​ @mannls​ @the-salty-asian​ @winchesterprincessbride​ @xostephanie​ @superromijn​ @witch-of-letters​ @time-travel-bouqet​ @screechingartisancashbailiff​ @myinconnelly1​ @sister-winchesters99​ @thekatherinewinchester​ @maddiepants​ @tumbler-tidbits​ @sandlee44​ @destielhoneybee​ @jerkbitchidjitassbutt​ @thefaithfulwriter​ @stoneyggirl​ @supernaturalginger​ @emoryhemsworth​ @wednesdayismyfunday​ @team-free-will-you-idjiot​ @atc74​ @cosicas-cuquis​ @casseythebee​

#SPN Bi-weekly writing challenge #jensen ackles fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfic #jensen ackles x reader #angst #fluff #smut

[burnedbyshoto]

Replacement

pairing: todoroki shouto x reader

warning: character death, alcohol mention, cussing, angst

word count: 3,062

a/n: for the one anon yesterday, yet another angst for shouto that involved momo without portraying her as the villain... although she is dead... sorry I hate killing off characters but you’ll understand

Synopsis: When the beautiful hero Creati dies what emerges from the ashes of her end is anything but beautiful.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

She had died protecting people.

She was what could be considered a true hero. Her last battle ending in a victorious explosion, her sacrifice saving an entire town.

Yaoyorozu Momo, the Everything Hero: Creati, died with a smile on her face.

She was beautiful, kind, intelligent, and much more strategic than any other hero on the Hero Charts. She was one of your best friends, someone you considered to be a sister, and you could only watch as she collapsed to the ground as the villain lay defeated in front of her. A villain that you were useless against.

You barely remember the wailing sirens as you held her in your arms, your hero training and quirk useless as she held your hand weakly.

“T-Take care of him,” she whispers to you, her words are barely audible as you nod your head, tears pouring from your eyes. “Don’t let him b-be hung up on me… tell him… I love him, and that… I know he’s going to be an amazing hero.”

Todoroki Shouto was her boyfriend.

The oblivious heartthrob from your high school class was the longtime and very serious boyfriend of your best friend. Todoroki was someone who held your heart and affections since your first year in high school. Affections you had quickly shoved away the moment Momo came to confess their new relationship. After all, you should have known better, Todoroki was a man who deserved perfection and you were not that.

Still, it mattered not, you were highly supportive of their relationship, your affections for the bi-colored man was never discovered. Not once, not ever.

Momo died in your arms and you sobbed pathetically into her shoulder until they had to take her body from you.

You could barely remember what had happened next, only that your old classmates had suddenly appeared to help with the search and rescue. Multiple hands grabbed you, voices convoluted your thoughts as everyone asked where Momo was. Your eyes were wild as browns, blacks, reds, and greens swam in your vision but you couldn’t seem to breathe.

How could you tell them you failed to keep Momo safe?

How could you tell them that she had died because you weren’t strong enough to assist her?

“Y/h/n,” Todoroki’s voice cleaved through your heightened panic, and your back stiffened.

You couldn’t look at him.

No.

You couldn’t say anything.

“Where’s Creati?”

You turned, your eyes overflowing with tears as you stared at Todoroki who stood before you. Despite the strength in his posture, the hero in him bleeding into his persona right now, his eyes betrayed his calmness.

“I-I’m so s-s-sorry,” was the only thing you managed to whisper.

Immediately, his eyes blocked out and he nodded, “Okay.”

With that, he left and hands once again touched you and figures ran after Todoroki who was not slowing down as he went to search and rescue.

“I’m so s-sorry,” you sobbed again and again. It was the only thing you could say as you were taken away, your mental state not okay for you to continue helping.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

The black and heavy material of your kimono made you uncomfortable as you stared at yourself in the mirror of the bathroom. No matter how you adjusted the kimono, no matter how much you pinched and pulled, the kimono sat heavy on your shoulders. It should’ve been you who died, it shouldn’t have been Momo, not when she had so much to live for.

“Are you okay?” Uraraka’s voice asked from the door.

Her brown eyes swam with concern, her own black kimono yet another reminder of why you were here. Your nod was tight and stiff.

You were alive, of course you were okay.

“I think I might need to go get this altered,” you lie as you turn and smile softly. “Let’s go?”

“Okay...”

The twenty of you from the class were going to Momo’s favorite restaurant together to end the day. Your eyes were still puffy, red, and swollen from crying and you held Uraraka’s arm and the two of you walked out.

“How long does it take to fucking pee, we’re starving?” Bakugou asks but his tone isn’t one of anger or annoyance, just exhaustion.

You shrug as Uraraka and the others defend you despite the lack of irritation from him, but as you all move to leave, a large hand grasps your wrist. You freeze as you are pulled back and look up to see Todoroki. 

He’s in his black suit, his hair styled in the way Momo loved it, and his necktie was already loosened.

“I need to talk to you still,” he demands and your heart rises to your throat as you stare at his eyes. In all the time you’ve known Todoroki Shouto he has never once appeared like a wounded animal. But right now he looked like a wounded animal that had been cornered and was fearful. His eyes trained on your friends that looked ready to tell him to drop it, but he held a hand. “We’ll catch up.”

Your head turned to give the group a strained smile, “It won’t take long.”

You couldn’t hold his gaze as everyone walked off, it was too intense, too raw for you. The eyes of someone who had lost their lover was something you’d never experience until right now, but it was the worst and most stomach tossing feeling you’ve ever seen. Heartbreak wasn’t enough to describe the emotions you sensed from him. No, it was more along the lines of a man who was willing to fight the world to get one minute back with her, and it drowned you.

“What happened?” Was the first thing that he said the moment your friends were no longer around. “Tell me everything.”

So you did.

You explained how you bumped into Momo during your lunch hour and how you weren’t even on duty on the day of the attack. Your eyes were unable to leave his as you explained how without your tech supplies, the villain was a formidable opponent for you. Such an opponent that you were near powerless to him. 

The battle had lasted less than ten minutes but the destruction proved to take months of reconstruction. The memories of how every other hero who arrived on the scene was, even more, worse off than you were, and Momo was the only one dealing effective attacks on him. Your brows knit in your horrific memory of the suddenly clear look of realization on Momo’s face as she trapped your feet to the ground as you had already correctly assumed what she was doing next. Then she threw herself at him, your vision turning white until they both collapsed. You ended with what you promised your friend on what you would tell him, but your speech was not yet over.

“It w-was my fault!” You sob as your head pounds. “I should’ve been working that day! I should’ve been fucking stronger! I should’ve been able to handle someone like that! We survived the LoV and yet I couldn’t handle this o-one villain?! I-- I’m so sorry Todoroki, it’s all my fault!”

Your crying wouldn’t stop as he stood before you, his face dark with emotion, and his hands fisted at his side.

What you expected was for Todoroki to walk away, to leave you crying there because you were the reason why he no longer had a girlfriend. You were the reason why he wouldn’t have his dreams.

But instead, his arms enveloped you in a hug, and your sobs became violent as you shook in his arms.

“You did your best,” his voice whispers in your ear, it’s quiet, and it’s said in a way that breaks your heart. “Thank you for telling me her last w-words.”

The only thing you could do was nod your head as you continued crying, and slowly the two of you sank to the ground as tears poured down both of your faces. 

A secret promise was exchanged between the two of you that day, and you could only hope that both of you would move on past this. You prayed that Yaoyorozu Momo was finding peace wherever she was.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Uraraka asked as you stared at yourself in the mirror.

It was ten months since Momo’s passing, and tonight you were going out with Todoroki for dinner. Nothing too fancy, but the two of you had grown rather close since her passing that you figured that it would be no biggie.

“It’s just as friends,” you say again, your fingers dropping your makeup brush as you turned towards her. “It’s not that… weird is it?”

“I don’t know…” Uraraka frowns as she fixes your hair.

“He asked me to go out, as friends,” you say that last part again, although who you’re trying to convince seems a bit out of place.

“I’m just… worried that’s all,” Uraraka smiles tight-lipped. “For both of you really. You know that the paparazzi and the media are starting to act like those in America, they’ll start assuming things!”

“It’s just as friends…” your eyes fall as you try to keep your composure.

“I know… it’s just… he also was planning on proposing to Momo, I just… I don’t want to see you getting hurt because he’s trying to rebound, or him getting hurt because you’re not Momo.”

Uraraka’s words hang heavy in your ears. Todoroki would never rebound, right? It’s been ten months and you’re one of the only girls he speaks to, the other women in his life tended to be your old classmates. And then, of course, you were no Momo, never have you ever tried to be her either! Todoroki never tried to imply that you were Momo either!

A knock tore you from your thoughts as you smiled weakly, “That must be him, um, I’ll be back! I promise that it’s just as friends though!”

“Okay…”

Your steps were quick as you went to the front door to find Todoroki standing there waiting for you.

“Hi,” you smile as you slip on your shoes. 

“Hi,” he smiles back, “you ready?”

“Yeah, let’s go!”

--------

“Thanks for dinner,” you smile as the two of you were finally walking back to your place. 

Dinner had been rather fun, the food was delicious and a good conversation flowing through you two. The two of you had even shared dessert and a few glasses of sake before you left. The alcohol had left your body warm but you didn’t feel drunk as you stood next to Todoroki. Your shoulders brushed against each other every few steps, knuckles touching as the both of you denied that you were infatuated with the other.

“I had a good time, we should do it again,” Todoroki proposes and you were quick to agree.

“I think it would be a good thing to do,” you smile as your steps slow down. The two of you had finally made it outside your apartment building.

“Um, it wasn’t wrong of me to do, right?” Todoroki asked as his eyes look deeply into yours, they seem to question his actions but you’ve had your mind set on it for a while.

“No, we went as friends,” you insist with an awkward smile. It hurt to say that, you wanted more from him, but was it wrong?

“Right… friends,” he muttered as he looked down at his feet. “Well, I’ll be going then, good night y/l/n.”

“Good night,” you responded back and your heart hammered as he pulled you in for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his neck holding him close; his warm arms circled your waist. But it was a little too long and a little too warm of a hug between two friends.

When you parted away your eyes were unable to part away from his and the next thing you knew is that his lips were on yours. Blood rushed into your ears as suddenly your friend facade shattered into pieces, and your lips pressed against his just as passionate and desperate as his own.

What you didn’t know is that as the two of you managed to unlock your front door and slip inside while still in this passionate exchange, a light flashed from the distance.

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

“I heard y/h/n made sure Creati died so she could be with Shouto…”

“It’s only been eleven months, couldn’t she have at least waited?”

“I knew she’s always been jealous of Creati but to kill her to get her man is really fucked up of her to do…”

✩✶✩❇✩✶✩

Two years after Momo’s death, you thought things would be better.

Sure, you were no longer exploding into tears whenever her name was mentioned, nor were you hesitating whenever villains mocked you on the field, but things weren’t better. Whispers and rumors hung heavy in your ears. Why did you kill Momo? Why couldn’t you have been a homewrecker instead of a murderer? Were you finally happy now that you had Shouto?

It was drilling at you constantly, their hateful words and aggressive actions were affecting you. But you had Shouto, right?

“I’m home,” his voice sounded from the door.

“Welcome home,” you responded as you closed your laptop.

You had just finished reading the forum about the conspiracy between you, Momo, and Shouto. You knew that you shouldn’t be reading it, but it was something you’ve become obsessive about, always trying to read what people thought about you. It was something that seemed to be growing in hate as the months passed by, and as someone who used to be favorable in the eyes of the people to suddenly be hated was… nauseating.

Your eyes closed at the gentle press of his lips to your temple, but your breathing shook as he pulled away.

“You were reading the forum again…”

You don’t say anything, choosing to nod instead you stand up ready to distract yourself with other things.

“Nothing they say is true, and you know that,” Shouto reminds you, and you weakly nod.

There was something that had been eating at you for some time now, three slip-ups that seemed to be proving at least one theory of the haters, and although you didn’t want to say it, it was coming up like vomit.

“Do you even love me?”

Shouto stopped in his tracks, his body tensing as if this was a question that he never wanted you to ask.

“Y/n, you know that I do.”

You stood up, your face dark, and your fists clenched at your side.

“You don’t have to be in love with me, you know. I know you say that I shouldn’t listen to everyone who shits on me, and believe me I-I don’t! I know no matter how much I blame myself for Momo’s death I am not at fault! I know that no matter h-how much it haunts me and no matter how much I wished it was me instead of her w-we can’t go back! But do you love me, or am I just some safety net?!” That was all it took it seemed for you to start spewing your insecurities, the reasons as to why Shouto was dealing with you. “Am I just… am I a replacement for Momo?”

Shouto stared at you, his face unreadable and his body stiff as he continued looking at you, “Let’s just go to bed.”

“No!” You snap, your head shaking. This conversation needed to be said, it needed to be discussed because now that it was out in the open it was going to rot. 

You wanted him to tell you that you were being dumb and that this was just an overreaction, but he gave you nothing. “I know it’s not easy to move on from someone, especially because it was done in a way where you had no choice! Your ending with Momo was forced and it was unwanted! The two of you broke up not because you wanted to or because she wanted to but because life fucking sucks! You’ve called out her name many times at night, even to this day, and I know you’ve called me Momo in bed! It’s just… fuck, Shouto, I don’t want to be a rebound or a safety net! I want to be loved and I want to be the reason why you’re happy, but I’m not!”

“Then why are you still here?” He asks his face stone cold and his tone even harsher.

“Because I want you to tell me that you love me because you love me! I don’t want your love because I was the closest thing to Momo left! I’m not a r-replacement…” Your voice is frustrated, your throat burning with restricted emotions as you twist your fingers.

Where you really just a distraction this entire time?

Shouto looks at you, his body releasing all the tension within him as his truth finally bleed through.

“I’m sorry,” his voice whispers, “I’m sorry that I can’t tell you what you want to hear… I wish-- I want to love you so badly.”

The two of you stare at each other in the kitchen of your shared home. The walls of pictures of you two screaming about how fake everything has been. The emotions that painted these walls had just been a lie, a distraction, a replacement of what should have been true.

Tears flow from your eyes as your throat constricts with ugly emotions.

You were nothing but the next best thing, not someone he wanted because you were the one. Your hair covered your eyes as you look down, your cries silenced as you bit down on your tongue. They were right, he didn’t love you the way you wanted him to. He didn’t see you as you but as a distraction from Momo.

“O-Okay,” you sniffle as you try to smile at him. “Obviously this r-relationship can’t go on any further… I-I, um, I wish you well. I hope that one day you can find the person out there that will make Momo second best…”

“Y/n--”

“Goodbye, Todoroki,” you whisper as you turn and walk away.

It didn’t matter that you left most things in his place, because just like you, they could be replaced.

#todoroki shouto #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki scenario #todoroki angst #bnha writing blog #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha todoroki #bnha imagines #mha #mha x reader #mha imagines #mha todoroki

[frostedfaves]

Let It Happen (1)

Masterlist

Pairing: Amy Santiago x fem!reader

Summary: Amy made the mistake of dating Teddy and vowed immediately after to never date another guy on the force again. Luckily, her new coworker is a woman. Reader insert with female!reader, told entirely from the point of view of Amy Santiago. Doesn't follow the show plot line and no Peraltiago. First five chapters are reposted from my wattpad!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: jealousy, Amy’s bi panic

-

It only happens once, I believe, that you meet someone that makes your head pop right off its place atop your neck and spin in circles. Everything feels like chaos, and yet it's the only thing that brings you serenity. Like meditating after exiting the pit of a metal show. Fast or slow, right in the middle of fast and slow, sometimes fast then slow.

The feeling of comfortably warm water suddenly burning hot. Your hand jerks away fast at the change and your heart is beating a mile a minute because you never thought something could happen so instantly. Eventually you come back to find the temperature isn't as unbearable as you thought. New territory just scares you.

It has always scared me. All the new classes and new jobs and every other new skill I've attempted just in the fear of missing out on knowledge couldn't have prepared me for the fear of a new person coming in and changing everything I knew while somehow keeping it all the same.

-

On Monday morning, I was in the briefing room at the start of my shift. Nothing unusual about sitting with a bunch of detectives and officers and waiting for the Sarge and Captain to appear at the front of the room. Except something did feel different. It could've just been the weird nightmare I had of libraries closing forever that was throwing me off, but I wasn't so sure.

I watched as Terry finally entered the room with Holt, but my eyes widened when I noticed a woman following them to stand at the front. My gaze roamed carelessly and carefully all at once over her, noticing the smoothness of her skin and how a simple outfit seemed a lot less simple on a body like hers. Without warning, I'd entered a daydream of wrapping my arms around her waist and moving my fingers along the tail of her shirt, drumming a light representation of what her presence did to my heartbeat.

I broke away from my very inappropriate and borderline creepy evaluation of her appearance just in time to hear Holt introduce her. Y/N L/N was our new civilian administrator, replacing Gina now that she was off running her own company and associated G-Hive. So she was working here...with us. With me. Fantastic! I can handle that. Maybe. Hopefully.

-

Hours later, I'd finally gathered the courage to approach her desk to introduce myself, but unfortunately courage went out the window when I got there and realized I didn't know how to begin the conversation. How do you even start talking to an angel? Especially one that sees you walking over and smiles like you've known each other for years. God, I'm a puddle in a pantsuit.

"Are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Her voice. Is it obsessive to say I want to hear more? Of course, I have to talk to her in order to do that.

"Yeah, yes. I'm fine, just wanted to formally introduce myself. I'm Santiago Amy--wait, no. Amy Santiago. I'm sorry, I'm not usually this bad at using my words and mouth and this is going terribly."

I let my face fall into my hands, ready to turn on my heels and find the nearest bathroom to spiral in when I heard her laugh. Wait, she's laughing. Is that good?

"It's okay, Amy. I get really nervous talking to new people, so knowing that others do too makes me feel a lot better. Nice to meet you, by the way."

I met her eyes again and finally gave her a smile that wasn't fueled by a bundle of nerves. "Glad I could help, then. How are you getting along so far?"

"Really great, although I can't seem to decipher Gina's filing system. Do you happen to know anything of it?"

"No, and honestly you might as well start over. Finding Waldo would be easier than figuring that out." My shoulders relaxed further when she laughed again. This feels good.

"Well I guess it's a good thing I brought this," she stated cheerfully as she placed a box on her desk.

Wait. Binders with three rings, pockets and sturdy spines. Countless divider sheets with strong tabs for intense filing. Overwhelmingly beautiful new binder smell.

"Holy crap," I mumbled out breathlessly before I could stop myself.

"What?"

I think I love you. "I think you might be my new best friend." Okay Amy, that's worse.

"Wow, you like organizing too?" she asked with a gleam in her eye that had my heart racing, the moment quickly interrupted.

"Like organizing?" Jake scoffed, his arms folded with a cocky smile gracing his lips as he approached us. "If organizing was a person, Santiago would be married."

A death glare was sent in his direction before I could stop myself. Whether it was because of his uninvited entrance to our conversation or for making Y/N laugh in the same way I did, I couldn't be sure.

-

The unwarranted death glare only got stronger as time went on and Jake showcased his goofy and commanding personality while trying to get to know Y/N and make her feel included. I wanted her to feel welcome of course, but I wanted to be the one to do it, not watch from the sidelines as they did a Fire Extinguisher Roller Chair Derby while Terry and Holt were in a meeting downstairs. Side by side, gliding across the bullpen together. The sight made my fists clench, my nails pressed down into my palms like shovels digging up embarrassing amounts of jealousy.

I noticed Charles coming over with a grin as Y/N stopped Jake from eating foam that got on his hand, letting out a laugh that bounced on the walls until it landed in my ears. "Check your class schedules kids, because I think you two have chemistry!"

The only thing that stopped me from creating daggers with my eyes and aiming them at Charles' heart was Y/N speaking up with just a hint of nervousness in her tone. "Well I didn't exactly plan on announcing this but I'm actually only into women."

Well, would you look at that. My palms are sweating. We can blame that on my hands being folded up for so long, right?

"Oh Jake, I'm so sorry--"

"What? Charles, I'm not trying to date Y/N. I'm with Sophia, remember?" 

"Oh, right. Well maybe Rosa--"

"Also dating someone." Rosa quickly deadpanned.

"Charles, if she wants to date someone here, she can. But it's not up to you to set her up with anyone at all. You're going to scare her off from even wanting to be friends with us." I wanted to punch myself for not hinting toward me being available for her to date, but I felt better about my statement when Y/N flashed me a grateful smile.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I've known these guys long enough to know they're good people deserving of love and you're such a nice person too! I guess I got a little too excited to set you up with someone," Charles told Y/N with a guilty look, quickly fading as she got out of her chair and pulled him into a hug with that angelic smile on her lips again.

Everyone began to clear out and get back to working while Jake (mostly Charles) cleaned up. Y/N met me at my desk as I walked over, leaning against it as I sat in my chair.

"Hey, thanks for your help back there."

"Of course," I replied as I returned her smile. "I just know what it's like to be uncomfortable in a work setting and didn't want you to be alone in that feeling. I also have a question that I hope doesn't offend you, but I'm a little curious."

"Ask away."

I fought hard to keep my voice from shaking as I lowered my voice and asked "Are you really only into women, or did you just say that to get Charles to stop?"

A light chuckle fell from her lips and she responded. "One hundred percent vaginas only." She stood up and walked over to her desk, a chill running through my entire body as her hand touched my shoulder so lightly and briefly I could've imagined it. If I trusted my legs to stay steady right now, I'd run.

#amy santiago #amy santiago x reader #x reader #fem!reader #amy santiago x fem!reader #amy santiago imagine #amy santiago series #b99 fic #b99 imagine #b99 fic series #brooklyn nine nine #brooklyn 99 #brooklyn nine nine imagine #brooklyn nine nine fic series #jake peralta #charles boyle #rosa diaz

[hysteriium]

Doctor’s Orders

(Gif isn’t mine)

(A/n): I had a request for some Dark Knight nurse Joker action so,,,,, here! Hope it satisfies! :) @pennyship​ is my HYPE she is the light of my LIFE she helped me make sure this was coherent and lmk if I was being too much of a self-deprecating asshole HIFSHDFUIS. Enjoy!

(Summary): A deal’s a deal. 

(Pairing): DK!Joker x Reader

(Word Count): 7,200k+ 

(Warnings): Smut (18+), swearing, dub-con, implied stalking.

———

The sea of people your shoulders were ramming up against seemed to be a never-ending stream of mayhem; a faucet that desperately needed to be turned. Truthfully, you were surprised you hadn’t been dunked, swept under the furious stampede of shoes and trampled on. 

Ever since the threat was made by Joker, the hospital had been thrown into panic mode. Staff, law enforcement, and the clamour of patients added to the suffocatingly anxious air. It was proving to be a very tolling day, the cherry on top – a sour, bitter one might you add – was that somewhere in between you'd lost your necklace. You remembered twirling the small pendant between your thumb and forefinger while everyone, you included, crowded around the small TV in the waiting room. 

Just minutes after receiving the news, after hearing that soul-chilling voice announce its equally as cold plans, the jewellery vanished. During the rush, there was the possibility someone had snatched it off you. Too distracted by the waves of patients you had to tend to, you guessed you failed to notice its absence until too late. Alternatively, your meddling could have loosened the delicate piece, rendering its tumble inevitable. So much so, that when you were practically slamming into people, like a typical game of bumper cars, it may have fallen. 

Regardless, it was gone, irrespective of its sentimental value. For now, you had more pressing matters to worry about. 

Lives.

Coworkers tried their hardest to lead subjects to safety, whether by their beds or by feeble arms. It looked like an accident in itself waiting to happen, a ticking time bomb which no one would have the luxury to clean up after. A dramatic number of personnel had dropped off the face of the earth within minutes of the news broadcast and so you all tried to make do. There was no doubt the hefty chunk had left to escape the danger, fearful for their own lives. 

Irony at its finest. 

As you attempted to escape the barrage and locate your next patient, a sharp turn took you into one of the rooms. The cubic area wasn’t large and its walls were coated with a particularly unappealing shade of mint green – a style which after all these years seemed as hideous as the first time your poor eyes made contact with it. The empty bed settled within the middle told you the patient had already been assisted, and you were about to leave when a flash of white and copper caught your vision. Upon second glance, you realised it was another nurse. With her back turned, you could see the glistening of her short framed hair. She looked to be occupied, her posture odd and hunched over, hiding whatever she was doing. You could also hear... mumbling? 

Curious.

Clearly not hearing you enter, you promptly cleared your throat, trying not to startle her. Then, you approached.

“Everyone’s crazy out there…” you started with a bitter laugh. 

The further you travelled, the more obvious the grumbles became. The clacking of something metallic emerged with your increasing proximity, a clamour from a fidgeting of some sort. After a quick flicker, you noticed that her shoulders were quite broad, along with her seemingly defined biceps. While it was more of an observation, the pit in your stomach told you something about her was off.

No response. Not even an acknowledgement.

Your amusement subsided when it was met with the ever-so-reassuring retort of silence, your smile falling as well when your next words received the very same. 

“Especially since everyone’s ditched.” 

You were about to ask if she was alright, considering your existence had apparently been downgraded to ‘invisible,’ when suddenly, you froze. 

A pool of crimson had seized your attention.

The woman who was yet to speak, let alone turn, went rigid when she heard you gasp. Your hand had automatically flown to your mouth then, the distinctive whack of skin slapping echoed throughout the room. Though, such a change was lost on you as your instincts immediately kicked in. The source of the sinister liquid was hidden behind the bed, but you didn’t need to see any more of the scene to already make a conclusion. A little shuffle to the right had informed you that the man had been an officer, his uniform soaking up the seemingly fresh bullet wound wedged just above his heart. 

Immediately, your gaze returned to your questionable coworker, the adrenaline rushing through you tingling your fingertips. In one swift movement, you had forced yourself up against the wall opposite her, your shaky figure slowly sidestepping towards the exit, ready to pounce for the door. The disturbing reality of the situation washed over you when the new angle enabled you to view what her frame was protecting – what she had been playing with all along. 

A gun.  

“M-ma’am?” The whimper that left you was a pathetic sound, one that coincided with the wavering of your lips. To top things off, like the legendary klutz you were, you stumbled over one of the metallic bins, a small rectangular thing that only served to signal your intent to escape. 

That had been the last straw.

“Ah-ah-ah!” She sung, abruptly whirling around. 

Or, more accurately, he. 

Dressed there in all his glory stood the very man who’d threatened to blow up the entire building. Threatened to kill hundreds of innocents in the process. To say you saw your life flash before your eyes when he reared his gun towards you was an understatement; all colour draining from your face as if it had merely been coated on like his own face paint. The glaring abyss, angry and entrancing, was reminiscent of the gaping hole in your heart, decaying from the ever-so-acidic weight of terror. And, even though half of his face was concealed by a white surgical mask – an absurd combination with the makeup – he still succeeded to emit a viciously deadly aura.

He had snuck in and hidden right under everyone's noses.

A wolf in sheep’s clothing. 

With a cringe, he yanked off the mask. The 'snap!' of its elastic strings bouncing back emanated as he flung it behind him uncaringly. Peeling off the copper wig and discarding it similarly, he snickered at your expression, “well, helloo, beautiful.”  

Involuntarily, you felt ice glide down your spine, branching throughout your body and leaving its distinctive mark in the form of risen skin. The sound of his voice was enough to strike fright in anyone. He'd proven as such from his inception. The very thought of what he'd do to you was even more disturbing.  

“D-don't.” 

“Awww, scared of this lil ol' thing?” Sadistic giggles spilled from his lips as he jiggled the weapon. 

“She won't bi-te,” the last portion had his tongue flicking off the roof of his mouth.   

Your eyes had been darting from him to the firearm nestled loosely in his grasp, his hand worryingly relaxed for such a weapon of butchery. Contemplating whether or not you had an opportunity to run for it, a sudden cry rippled the silence. 

A sharp inhale followed by another moan to your left had you twisting your neck, deviating from the oh-so-dangerous man in front of you. Similarly, the gun locked in his clutch was flung towards the origin. The slant of his weapon – downturned towards the floor – spoke volumes; told you all you needed to know.  

The man was still alive. 

“You know what the, uh, funny thing is about people?” Joker started, his voice dangerous and spoken with an edge, a serrated knife slicing into the well-bolstered tautness of the air. 

“They're like,” he paused, looking up at the ceiling as if to remember. The whole charade, his wiggling fingers and his drawn-out words were all to drag out the gut-churning anticipation, “insects.” 

You knew he was talking to you, even if his focus was elsewhere and occupied by the man who he’d previously shot. It didn't take much observation to pinpoint the man's strange idiosyncrasies. The way his tongue darted out, speedily scaling the risen tissue on the corners of his lips, the unpredictable fluctuations in his tone, the controlled gestures of his hands. All screamed erratic.  

Suddenly scrunching his nose, he dragged back the hammer with his thumb, the small clacks from the small extension exacerbating the wild drumming of your heart. 

“Theeey. Just. Don't. Die–”

“WAIT!” You shouted, shooting out your trembling palms. 

It had been an improvised move, one that could have gotten you killed, but the innate tendency to prevent bloodshed (well, more), seemed to override logic. You had trained all your life for this job – to be a nurse and help people. Like hell you were about to just stand by and let him kill another innocent on your watch. Either you'd succeed or die trying.  

Leaning over the bed to view the state the man was in, you recognised positive signs. Like always, things could be better, but he was still fighting. Meaning, there was still a chance you could bring him back from the brink of death and get him to safety. You just needed to convince the other male waving the firearm around somehow. Surprise him. 

“Ju-just–” you swallowed the lump in your throat and shut your glassy eyes for a brief moment to release a steady breath, “take me instead.”

“A-and then–” you riskily took a step forward, your palms still raised defensively, “the-then you can do anything you want. Please. Just let me help him.”   

The man who had his head angled, essentially letting it hang, perked up his eyebrows at your proposal, the prominent creases of his forehead no longer fully concealed by his smudged greasepaint. Slowly, like a big cat toying with its prey, he prowled forward. His steady approach had you shrinking back into the wall behind you, your arms firmly planting themselves against its chilly surface while the trickle of laughter revealed his wicked pleasure. The taunting voices in your head told you that you’d worsened the situation and further cornered yourself into his vile trap – playing right into his hands. 

With no concept of personal space, he then hovered over you, face only centimetres away from your own. You could tell this was just one of the ways he intimidated people – gained control. By some miracle, you endured eye contact. 

“Hmm, are ya willing to shake on that, sweethear-t?” He drawled, the sudden weight shoved against your stomach involuntarily coercing you to look down; down at the handgun practically connected to you, the point of its muzzle hiding in the fabric of your uniform. When you naively tried to create more distance, the attempt ended up as a pathetic, miserable display. Soon, you gave in, your fingers reaching around the gun. Slow, stuttering motions manipulated your wrist as you worked to mimic the action of a handshake. 

The hum he emitted at the interaction was deep and reverberated – almost like a purr – the sound igniting an unimaginable yearning you tried with all your might to suppress. You didn't even want to acknowledge it, mentally kicking yourself when you instinctively glanced at his lips. You prayed he didn't notice, but a part of you knew better. The way he inched closer, your noses nearly touching confirmed this, coaxing you to look back up at him. Focusing into those dark, glittering eyes, you saw the hellfire behind them, a black hole which sucked out any form of innocence; a cesspool which bred corruption. Speckles of intrigue swam in them. 

Or was it excitement? 

You couldn't exactly tell, but you knew it was bad news. Knew that you had, most likely, made one of the worst deals in your life. 

To compare this man to the devil, the master of deals, was inaccurate. With only just one, tiny, interaction, you could infer this. No. He was much worse. Worse because unlike fairytales, unlike the mystic, this man existed. He could, if he so very willed, demolish you in an instant. 

“Welll,” his gaze lingered on for a split second – just enough for you to notice – before he reared himself back, “that settles it.” 

Joker, who was much taller, was able to effortlessly shift his focus to the policeman struggling to push himself up against the wall. The injured man shimmied back into its cold reinforcements while one of his hands desperately fiddled with his belt. 

Entirely shielded from the scene due to your angle, the most visible section being his head, you missed the way the wounded man drew his firearm and aimed it for the anarchist in front of you. The only sign something had transpired was the blur of white in front of you bobbing low, as well as the dizzy scent of smoky gunpowder. As the shot rang out, echoing throughout the room like an explosion, causing brief deafness, Joker ducked down just in time. The bullet whizzed above him, wedging itself into the wall behind, just missing the glass of the door; a permanent, antithetical imprint.   

“Op– and that's my cue,” with a quick wink, he grabbed his previously discarded attire. 

“See you around, doll,” he said, zipping out of the room entirely.

The officer slumped up against the wall when he realised he hadn't hit his target, exhaustion enveloping his form. You made your way to the dying man as fast as you could and began to tend to him. 

“Oh!” 

You jolted away from your patient when Joker suddenly appeared again, head peeking from the corner. He had the surgical mask, although this was lowered and the wig was back on, concealing the scraggly strands of dyed hair. 

“And – heheh – you mayyy want to, uh, make it fast,” he shook the detonator in his hand, clicking his tongue twice with a crooked grin before he took off for good. 

With the door now wide open and the overwhelmingly white hallway visible, you quickly noticed how empty it was. It was virtually a ghost town. While this meant it was easier to navigate him to safety, it also spelled trouble. After halting his bleeding, you were going to need to move him, this being problematic since you weren't exactly the strongest. 

You weren't up to that part yet, however.

"Stay with me okay? Can you hear me?"

The dazed look in his eyes and the expansion of his pupils told you that he was experiencing head trauma. Assessing the small bloody mark against the green paint and the gruesome splatter near it, you were able to figure out a rough idea of what happened. The force of the bullet had propelled him backwards and whipped his head back, it rutting up against the wall while it tried to catch up with his body. The aggressive hit to the cranium was what finally knocked him out, rendering him limp until he later regained consciousness. 

Ouch.  

It took a moment, though the gentle nod of his head answered your question.

"Good," grabbing scissors from one of the tables nearby, you tore into his shirt, finding the source of the wound. Another positive – just from the way the crimson liquid was flowing, it was clear no arteries had been hit.

"What's your name?" 

It was essential to keep the victim as awake as possible, your questioning aiming to do just that. 

No longer at his side, you rushed around the room like a chicken with its head cut off, frantically trying to find a tourniquet or any sort of compressor. 

“Daniel," his voice came out strained and delayed.

"Well Daniel, we're going to get you out of here, alright?" You said, hoping he could hear your reassurances over your wild searching.  

The room was more of a mess than when you entered, bits and pieces of equipment decorating the floor as if a twister had come through and hurled them there. You found it funny how in times of great urgency the things you needed most you could never find. 

You were about to give up and tear Daniel's uniform, using the shreds of his suit when your quivering digits stumbled across precisely what was needed. When you found the tourniquet, you had to literally hold yourself back from screaming eureka. You hastily returned to the disoriented man and dragged along one of the wheelchairs which had been abandoned. In no time, the wound, both entry and exit, had been covered, the utensil applying a great deal of pressure. Daniel's cries hadn't been easy to listen to but as you gently eased him into the wheelchair, they lessened. 

The home stretch. 

Fiercely clutching the push handles, you flew into the corridor, extremely conscious of the time and the tiny device which had been attached to Joker's palm like superglue. The mental image motivated you to maintain your swift pace, Daniel's head lolling to the side, jostling with each sudden movement. 

By some miracle, as you pushed through those automatic glass doors, you saw the last of the patients being loaded into the yellow school buses. Using the ramp, relief washed over you like a chilled breeze on a hot summer's day. The closest bus was where you headed, and you flagged down one of the doctors to get immediate help for Daniel. Within minutes, he was moved into the bus receiving treatment. 

About to dispose of the wheelchair, an enormous roar had you rearing your head back to the hospital. The ground shook with each stuttering explosion, the surreal view forcing you to look on with wide eyes. It was a distressing sight to process, but for some reason, you were unable to look away from the tragedy. 

This was especially the case when a familiar blob of white waddled out of the building with outstretched arms, his painted smile wider than ever. As if everything had been predestined, he knew exactly where you were, immediately noticing you gawking. Stuck between the weird limbo of boarding the bus, he gave you a wave. It wasn't fast, nor one in which required his whole limb. It was a slow, controlled one, only the tips of his fingers obliging. Time seemed to slow with the movement, each drawn out wiggle adding to the deep-rooted layers of terror and astonishment. A staring contest ensued. 

Before you could intake the sight anymore, let alone process it, you felt the distinctive clutch of hands from behind, pawing at you. As you were hauled into the bus by your underarms, the doors slammed shut with a hiss. Then, the bus booked it, your eyes never deterring. 

Nor his. 

———

Hours after the event, Joker had been captured and thrown into Arkham Asylum like most criminals in Gotham. While your job was more or less blown to smithereens and unsalvageable, forcing you to look elsewhere, you were sure it had marked the end of your interactions with him. 

All in all, life seemed to revert back to normal. Weeks passed as you hunted for another position, and ultimately, your searching paid off when you found another hospital. Resuming your duty as a nurse, Daniel had been transferred to the same institution for treatment as chance so happened and in a weird twist, you were assigned as his carer. His recovery wasn't very long but within that small time frame you knew him, you’d come to enjoy his company – perhaps a bit too much. Time revealed the feeling was mutual by how, as he so eloquently put it, he owed you dinner for 'saving his ass'. 

How could you have resisted?

However, like the venomous serpent it was, fate appeared to strike when you least expected it; baring and infiltrating with its noxious fangs. This much was proven when you arrived back home from said ‘dinner.’ Expecting a night filled with laughter and shy glances, reality was disappointing. Instead, you were met with a boatload of anxiety and stress. 

For starters, the dress you had laid out earlier in the morning had magically disappeared when you returned from work, and you eventually gave up searching after a ridiculous amount of time. Opting to leave the house with a backup, you hadn’t dared to peek at the time. Yet, the worst was yet to come; the straw that broke the camel's back was the amount the traffic jam you wound up in. 

Everything that could’ve gone wrong, went wrong. 

In total, the high of the night, came screeching to a stop when you spotted blinding flashes of red and blue. Combined with the waving, directing hands of law enforcement, the weight of dread compelled you to roll down your window and ask around. A few ignored you, though you had gotten some one-worded answers – ‘accident,’ and ‘crash’ being the mains. Yet, none of their explanations, underwhelming and dismissive at best, prepared you for the shock which cocooned your worn form as the culprit revealed itself – a firetruck. 

On fire. 

It was almost like a sick joke. 

The truck was completely destroyed and wedged between the entrance of the bridge, blocking exactly where you needed to go. In summary, it looked like you weren’t seeing Daniel anytime soon.  

Heaven only knew how long you sat in the car for when you arrived back home again. Resting your throbbing forehead against the leather steering wheel in a pathetic attempt to fight the manifesting tension headache. You had practically driven in one giant loop. It felt as though the Gods were laughing at you, all huddled around each other in their perfect utopia looking down, pointing and snickering. 

You needed a drink. 

When you finally did stumble out of the vehicle, you just managed to make out the small rectangular object placed ever so delicately on your doorstep. Then, with the automatic sensor light flickering on, you were able to identify the material it was sheathed in: recycled wrapping paper. Purple tinted and crinkled, the colour complemented the vibrant green bow criss-crossed on top. 

The hues alone communicated enough.

Hey, at least Joker was an environmentalist. 

Even rotting in a cell, he was still able to pull strings, sustaining some semblance of terror. He must’ve had men on the outside, eager to do his bidding. 

The strange feeling of being watched, the apparent echoes trailing your footsteps, the disordered internal debates sparked by open windows over the past few weeks finally made sense. You had merely chalked off the occurrences and the growing collection of missing items to your overactive imagination. To your paranoia. 

The naive belief that Joker was too busy wrapped up in a straitjacket to chase up on the deal you’d idiotically settled on had been shattered, thrown to the ground and stomped on. Originally, you doubted he even remembered the agreement; he certainly didn't seem like a man capable of holding down a thought – the chaotic energy emanating from him so astounding it was almost a phenomenon. Though, this had been wrong. Foolishly, you had thought yourself safe. 

Foolishly, you were mistaken. 

The joke was on you. 

You wanted to go to the cops. You wanted to turn in the little gift of death. The hovering worry of it being tampered with in some way, everlasting. Running rampant and wild with possibilities, your imagination outrageously tried to guess what was inside while your curiosity simultaneously nagged at you. 

Overwhelmed by the two shrieking entities, you reached down to pick up the small package, most likely adding to your list of dumb decisions. A small Joker card was attached to the bow, the bottom-half dangling, while tiny, messy crimson writing demanded the card to be flipped. It read:

'Tick tock!' 

The phrase was repeated in scratchy, crazed scribbles, decorating the card in a rather unsettling fashion. 

Swamped with confusion, itching fingers coaxed you to look inside the ambitiously innocuous box. Within its cardboard confounds laid a circular pocket watch – withered and deteriorated. You could barely make out the thin hair-line cracks in the glass. Although deceivingly harmless at first inspection, further scrutiny revealed they were deep-rooted and hardly repairable. 

Your heart skipped a beat when the sensory light suddenly shut off, but you didn’t need it any longer. Not with the harrowing imprint of the card cruelly carved into your brain. Ultimately, the message was loud and clear:

The end was nigh. 

Your end. 

The very words Joker had uttered to you haunted your thoughts like a spectre: a promise of your finale. Of your very last, spectacular, blue-faced, gasping breath. You were about to pull out your keys to unlock the door and barricade yourself inside when you noticed something horrifically disturbing. 

The door was slightly open.

With a hand reaching for the phone and ready to dial the police, your shoulder served to nudge it open. No groans emerged from its hinges as you pushed yourself inside, immediately heading left in the darkness to the kitchen. In the hopes of reducing any noise, you'd taken off your heels before you entered the house, mindfully placing them away from the door in case you needed to make a quick exit. 

Your go-to stop was the cutlery drawer. Gently sliding it open, you felt around for a knife, snatching it away when you found the right one. As if on cue, the kitchen light flicked on, rendering you momentarily blind from the dramatic shift in luminance. Like a newly birthed animal, scrambling to comprehend its surroundings, you flipped your body against the counter and wordlessly threatened the intruder. Pretending like it would make a difference, you waved the weapon around carelessly, eyes attempting to adjust.

"Sorry for the deee-lay," a familiar voice drawled, one that shook you to your very core. Within the few seconds of focusing, you observed how Joker mimicked a cringe, dragging out his 'e's'. His figure was resting against the second door frame, opposite of the way you had snuck in. The plum coat he often wore was lost and his sleeves were hastily rolled back to his elbows, exposing his toned arms. Along with all this, the infamous green vest was no longer hugging his waist, instead the tucked in hexagonal blue patterned shirt made a firm appearance, with olive diamond ridden suspenders. 

"I've been a bit… busy."

"And, uh, by the looks of it," he paused as he eyed you up and down, scanning the form-fitting dress you completely forgot you had on, "you have too." 

In an attempt to shield yourself from his sweeping, to hide how begrudgingly exposed you felt,  you crossed your arms against your chest. It was a gesture he ignored. 

"How did your little play date…" He clicked his tongue, waving his hands in gestures of quotations, “go, hmm?” 

You couldn’t help the involuntary falter in your expression when the words left his mouth. The series of unfortunate events which appeared to plague your day no longer resembled coincidence. The thought that he had been monitoring every movement was disturbing to say the least. 

“Not so well?” He continued with an all-knowing grin, tilting his head until it was properly angled against the door frame, following the lead of his body. The only divergence was in his suffocating gaze, displaying ponderance.

“Seems like poor Daniel, uh, missed his chance." 

The way his name rolled off of Joker’s tongue contained deep-seated malice, a guttural growl which had you rutting back into the counter with a jump. Bruises were sure to form on the tender flesh of your backside by morning. 

“Wh-what did you do?” The words came out mumbled as if you were afraid to know the answer, and in a way, you supposed you were. Still shaking, you hardly deterred the point of the knife from the criminal in front of you, the blade wavering so much it almost looked like its length was vibrating on its own accord.

"Ohhh, nothing a little gasoline couldn’t fix…”

It was only then when you realised he was slowly making his way towards you, slow and calculated and ready to pounce. With each one of his steps, you could feel every agonising jolt from your heart – feel it pick up its pace.  

Then, you mulled over his comment, recalling the terrible traffic, the ember hellblaze engulfing the raging red of the firetruck, and the amount of time it took you to maneuver out of the driving nightmare. 

It was all because of him. 

“And now that I have you allll to myself, we can get down to business," by now he had already inched halfway into the room.   

"I swe-swear to God, I will use this if you don't step back." 

Regardless of how many times you swiped the knife – to get it to look like you were actually serious about using the weapon – Joker remained unperturbed.

"But all I wanted to do was say hiii," he paused his advances, his hands shooting up to display his palms while his scarred mouth fell into a mocking pout, "especially to my favvvvou-rite nurse."

“I-I’m warning you–” 

He was barely a meter in front of you now as his towering figure practically cornered you like your first encounter. The wave of déjà vu flooding your senses drove you to raise the knife and plunge – or at least try to. Stopped midair was the kitchen utensil, along with your struggling arm by his forceful grip. He hadn’t even cared to toss a glance at the incoming weapon, maintaining composition as he swiftly and effortlessly succeeded in capturing your wrist. Only after did he shift attention, a low whistle of feigned surprise his barbed acknowledgment. He had drained all your hope, then. Killed whatever shred of optimism you had left in the process; hell, it didn’t even look like he was trying.  

In one swift maneuver, he ripped the blade out of your hands and quickly tossed it to the side, pinning your lower half against the counter as he did so, "did you – heeheh – really think I was just gonna let you go? Hmm? Forget about ya?” 

You tried your best next to use your hands – to slap him, to push him away, to wriggle out of the trap his body had forced you in. Yet, tricky vine-like hands excelled in capturing your own. Then, acting like nothing happened, as if it were a mere momentary hiccup, he continued, his tongue flickering out to dab at his scars, "no no no, you see, you caught my eye."

"A selfless little bird!” 

“Willinggg to sacrifice your life for another,” he spat, vicious and gruff; the volatility of his tone made it hard to decipher his thoughts. Though, it wasn’t as if you were well versed in such a thing to begin with. One moment revealed mockery, the next, disdain. 

What was real?

Maneuvering his hold on your wrists into one hand, his unoccupied digits reached for your hair, twirling a small strand that had fallen in front of your face during the struggle, “I've come to coll-ect.” 

“P-please-” Your breathing came out uneven through your nostrils as you clamped your eyes shut, still attempting to create distance. The feeling from last time, the shame woven into the forbidden craving had arisen again and you essentially prayed that he chalked off your squirming to fear and not to a specific… discomfort.    

"Noww, relaaax – doctor’s orders,” he hummed, wiggling his eyebrows. A trickle of joy spilled from his scarred lips, “what happened to that bravery?” 

You had shied away from his stare up until then, the rough hold which had migrated to your chin forcefully wiggling you closer. When your eyes met his dark ones, his eyebrows flicked upwards in what seemed like a tic. 

 “I-if you’re going to kill me, just do it,” you forced out. Gloved fingers squeezed at your cheeks.

“I’ve had a change of heart.” 

His thumb swiped your quivering lower lip, a sight he was thoroughly engaged in. Mere centimetres apart, it was there when you realised, with his breath sweeping against your mouth, that you wanted to kiss him. You really had sunken.

“Though, I am looking forward to – oh how did you put it? Letting me do what I want?" 

In one sudden, erratic movement, he wedged his knee between your legs and lifted the limb slowly, sliding it up until he reached your cunt. With your lungs feeling like they’d been robbed of air, you inhaled sharply, dizziness overtaking you. The tightening pressure around your wrists acted like a constrictor knot, its bindings strengthening the more you writhed.

“Do you remember that, sweetpea?” 

He rocked his knee which in turn rutted against the cabinet, enabling his thigh to brush your clit through soaked panties. Your dress was bunched up and pooled around his leg, hiding a good portion of his pinstripe trousers and in a response you weren’t particularly proud of, you released a choked moan, his actions providing the semblance of the relief you were chasing – craved.    

"Hmm, yeah?" He cooed, high pitched and almost like he was talking to a child.  

Protests – a whole bouquet of them sprouted from your vocal cords, their great green stalks filling the width of your throat, clogging it. So much so that instead of frantic clusters of ‘no,’ ‘stop,’ ‘get away from me,’ strangled noises and gasping moans trickled out. At least that's what you told yourself; because to face cold harsh reality would have proved to be too much. To realise that so much as one nudge from the cold criminal could reduce you to putty, a hot melting mess would be repugnant! To realise that those flowers hardly represented your innocence and more so the blossoming of carnality was a hard seed to swallow. 

And so, perhaps it was better to hide behind the excuse of obstruction even though the weakness in your knees told you different, even though you were leaning into him and transfixed on his lips. And maybe, just maybe, it was better to ignore how your stomach leapt at his resonating growl and how he pulled you by your wrists, and how you continued to ignore the auspicious swell in your chest as the risen skin of his scars brushed your cheeks and how the quick prod of his tongue coaxed you into a sloppy open-mouthed kiss and how your honeyed hums pressed against his mouth and how he darkly chuckled and–

Fuck. 

Fuck it. 

Melting into the way his tongue teased yours, you rolled your hips, meeting the occasional bounces as you rode his thigh. His free hand began its slow ascent up your dress, squeezing greedily at the flesh and when he knew you weren’t going anywhere, he relinquished his domineering hold on your wrist. In a move that seemed all too comfortable, natural even, your arms reached up to rest on his shoulders while the wandering hands nearing the waistband of your panties suddenly yanked the material – a fierce ‘snap!’ forcing you to jolt. 

You had no time to recover when he hoisted you on top of the kitchen counter. The sudden liftoff was rough considering his handling but the landing was even more so when he plopped you on its surface; the small squeak of pain followed by skewed mimicking and taunts. Regardless of the humiliation, the sudden loss of contact had you whining pitifully in the middle of the room, a reaction you were positive only urged his sadistic inclinations. 

“Wooould ya look at that,” Joker smirked, directing you to the sizable wet spot in his suit pants.  

The heat rushed to your cheeks instantly at the vulgar display, a rose dusting sweeping the area. With his knee still propped up against the counter, he was able to push his way between your thighs losing your ability to shut them knee to knee. 

No matter how much he tried to poke at your eagerness, shame was void. Such a point was proven when you leaned backwards slightly, adjusting your position, never straying far from his lips. Once done, you reached for the digits circling the skin of your hips. Joker hardly seemed fazed by the sudden contact, though he watched you intently with squinted eyes – intrigue the dominating emotion. Said narrowing was so subtle that if you hadn’t been looking up at him the whole time, you wouldn’t have picked up on it at all. 

The gentle trail you led him down, from your hip to your inner thigh, and then, finally, to your slit had been drawn out, the pleasured groan he emitted a forbidden delight submerged in concupiscence. Slickness coated the tips of his gloves as they toyed with the area, his long digits sliding easily inside from how wet you were. 

“One second you’re scared stiff,” he grinned, eyes flicking between you and the way his unhurried fingers filled you up. 

“The next you’re allll ho-t and bothered.” 

With no time to adjust, he ditched the leisurely act and started a much more impatient speed. You eagerly leaned into the sly, slithering touch which happily found you were braless. Curled markings scratched into the edges of the counter, coinciding with the tortuous ascension of poisonous fingers – a poison in which seemed to seep its way into your bloodstream instantly, manipulating every feeling, every thought, every sensation to the firey, prickling rush of desire; of him.

“What does that say about you, huh?” 

Knowing exactly what you needed, his thumb promptly found your nipple. With both hands busy, the sheer euphoria they propagated brought on a daze. 

“It says I’m a nurse,” you warbled, breathing heavy. 

Jokers eyebrows furrowed, though quickly reverted in seemingly the very same twitch; it appeared he always wanted to have the upper-hand. To control. Nonetheless, he was eager for your continuance, the way his skilful fingers glided inside you, exploring, not stopping in the slightest. The swell of pleasure which forced your toes to curl and your hips to rise let you know you were close.

“I’m built for high-pressure situations.” 

“Is that so?” He said, his voice as smooth as silk. He leaned in again, so close that measuring the distance would have been redundant. Strands of green, which were once woven neatly (or more, as neatly as they could get for the man), deviated. Each curl bounced along with every thrust. 

“Care to put your money where your mouth is, sweetheart?” He grunted, pinching the sensitive nub between his thumb and forefinger, drawing out a sharp mewl.

“Another deal?” You forced out, breathing a laugh.

“If you, uh, think you can handle it,” he flopped his head to the side and performed his idiosyncrasy with an impish twinkle in his eye, “you know I’m a man of my w–”

You both paused.

During the exchange, you swore you had heard something. Considering Joker’s sudden halt too, you were certain it hadn’t been your imagination. The only thing louder than the silence was the furious ‘rap rap rap’ of your heart, a thunderous drum calling out for something – anything to mask its bellows. 

‘Mass hysteria’ was doing rounds in your mind as an explanation for the sudden, unexplained noise until finally, it repeated. Short, sharp, and distinguishable. 

This time, you heard it clear as day.

Your name. 

“(Y/n)?”

It seemed you were the only one who remained in your fixed state as Joker clamped a hand over your mouth. However, he continued with his thrusts, controlling them into a slower pace; a patience you didn’t think he had. With your tongue, you ran the muscle against his gloved fingers, biting into the material, a signal to ditch the covering. It appeared to work too, because within seconds his bare flesh replaced it. He slipped two digits into your mouth instead and pressed the pads of his digits of your appendage. Immediately, you hollowed your cheeks, looking up at his lust ridden gaze as you sucked. A delighted purr resonated from him. 

“Good girl,” he growled, curling the fingers still inside you; marking the end of his teasing. Joker, more agitated by the second, returned to his previous rhythm, the kitchen counter groaning.

 So much for patience. 

The interruption was almost forgotten as you began to reach your peak. Arching your back, you forced Joker closer to you and clung onto him, ensuring each rapid ram reached his knuckles. In a flurry of desperation, you pawed at his arm, trying to redirect the hand not currently busy fucking you into oblivion. With a small ‘pop’ he left your mouth, finding your neck with your guiding. His fingers wrapped around the area perfectly, squeezing while a laugh left him.

“Well, aren’t you just full of surprises.”

“(Y/n)?” The voice repeated. You heard your door slam shut soon after, only just now had it occurred it had been left open the whole time.

“Hey, the door was open,” they confirmed, continuing as you heard the distinctive thud of boots searching the house, presumably searching for you.

Mumbled, nonsensical phrases left your mouth in the violent flurry of release, suppressed by the pressure around your throat. In the midst of things, the top half of your dress had fallen and bundled around your waist. As you went rigid, your nails clawed and sunk into the back of his shirt, stealing a few grunts. Too wrapped up in your own pleasure, you missed how Joker intently watched your climax, mischievous eyes deviating to the exposed flesh of your shoulder. 

“I heard about the accident, and I guessed you wouldn’t have made it so I decided dinner here would be–”

Joker without warning had bitten into your shoulder, the unexpected intermingle of pain and pleasure coaxing you to cry out. Such an interruption warranted the frantic footsteps heading your way.

Shit.

“Is everything ok–”

Splat.

Both you and Joker whipped your heads around to the source which was now in one of the doorways of the kitchen. There stood Daniel, horror stricken and trying his hardest to comprehend the scene before him. A demanding contrast of colours – flowers, wrapped and nicely presented, had fallen to the floor in surprise, explaining the slap of sadness.

No one said anything. 

The thick mist of unease permeated through the kitchen, suffocating everyone inside. Well, at least those prone to embarrassment. Although you couldn’t see the cocky smirk on the jester’s face, you could feel the distinctive rumble of laughter brewing from the way you continued to cling onto his back. 

In short, Joker was shameless.

No sooner than when you had realised such a thing was festering – it erupted, breaking the spell time had cast on the small box of a room. Hysterics was contrasted with Daniel’s visible confusion and, dare you say, hurt. The blood had rushed to his face, whether in anger or embarrassment it was clear it was both. A small part of you felt bad, it truly did, though it was difficult to sustain when Joker, without even so much as looking at you, forced you back further to a 130-degree angle until your upper half was leaning against the kitchen wall. Without missing a beat, he started to fiddle with his pants, a vicious, sharp smile delivering the final slice to the intruder’s heart.  

“The early bird gets the worm, Daniel.”  

#Joker x reader #The Dark Knight #Dk!Joker #Heath Ledger Joker #My writing #joker x you #The Joker x reader #Joker x y/n #Heath Ledger #Joker #Fanfiction #Nurse Joker #Nurse Joker x reader #Christopher Nolan Batman

[mckinlily]

shalluraweek day 1: stars/sky

Summary: stars/sky Shiro had a celebrity crush. 

read on ao3: here

“Sure you’re not freaking out, Shiro?” said Keith, his voice bland and amused.

Shiro realized he was repeatedly doing and undoing the Velcro on the back of his (one) fingerless glove and quickly put his hands behind his back. Behind him, someone—probably Pidge—snorted.

Shiro breathed and looking around, forcing himself to take in his surroundings. Small office, lots of sound equipment, his and Keith’s guitars against the wall, air conditioner that made that annoying hum. Keith was nearest him, slouched in his leather jacket in a way that made Shiro wonder if he and Keith made it as a punk duo on Keith’s emo vibe alone. Sprawled across the couch was Lance, their PR and social media manager, sipping on a smoothie and clearly snickering at Shiro. Pidge was fighting Lance’s legs encroaching on her space on the couch. She worked on post-production with Hunk, a musical genius who played an impossible number of instruments and had a knack of fleshing out every song idea Keith and Shiro had into a massive hit, and helped Lance out where PR became technical. She was also definitely smirking at Shiro. Really, Hunk was the only one of them not actively laughing at him, and that was because his expression was worryingly close to pity.

Why did Shiro like these people again?

Oh yeah, because his band and the team behind it had become something like a second family.

And sometimes “family” meant “incredibly annoying.”

Shiro resisted the urge to fiddle with one of his piercings. “I’m fine,” he said stiffly.

“Yeah. Suuuuurre, you are,” drawled Lance.

Hunk shot Lance a look, clearly chiding him for not being sympathetic. He looked back to Shiro. “You really don’t need to be nervous.”

“Sure he does,” said Pidge, grinning over her glasses at him. Besides Keith, she has known Shiro the longest, and Shiro could see the blackmail in her eyes as she looked at him. She took on a sing-song voice, “It’s Allura.”

Just the look in Pidge's eyes was enough to make Shiro blush.

“Ugh, why are you like this?” Keith threw his hands in the air. “You sing your heart out to thousands of people an audience, take the lead in interviews, talk openly about being bi and having PTSD on YouTube, but having a conversation with one singer—”

“She’s not just another singer!” objected Shiro, scandalized. “She’s Allura. Do you have any idea the kinds of records she’s broken? Her latest album—”

“Yeah, yeah. We all know about your massive crush on Allura,” laughed Lance.

Shiro huffed. “That's not it.”

They didn't get it. It wasn’t just that Allura was totally hot (breathtakingly beautiful more like) or an incredible musician (which she definitely was) or had a voice that when she sang would make even sirens weep in jealousy (though she definitely did). She also was the kind of social activist Shiro dreamed of learning how to be. A political refugee who climbed her way to the top from nothing, she used her massive following to push for social change and speak out against inequality in all its forms. The way she handled personal attacks—on her race, her gender, her sexuality (pan, as seem on the flag in her Twitter profile)—with grace, dignity, and yet absolutely no apology left Shiro in awe. He respected the hell out of her, ever since the first time he saw a video of her neatly dissecting the intersection of racism and sexism in the music industry, and privately considered her one of his personal heroes.

And she was coming to the studio because someone thought it was a good idea for them to collab, and Shiro didn’t know how to deal.

“Okay, okay.” Lance rolled off the couch, picking up a can of whatever sugary death drink they were supposed to be promoting and opening it to hand to Shiro. “Time to chill out. Take a sip of our ‘paying for Pidge’s new sound system’ drink and remember you’rean internationally known star, too. It’s going to be fine. I planned it.”

“Oh, and that’s never come back to bite us before,” said Keith.

“Excuse you, I made Grumpy Cat Keith a meme! It’s was a stroke of marketing genius!”

Shiro opted to ignore Lance and Keith’s bickering, choosing instead to take a sip of the dubious promotional sports drink—

“I mean, worst come to worst, we could always use the footage to make another meme campaign if Shiro completely falls on his face.”

—only to immediately spit it out again. “Pidge!”

“Sorry,” smirked Pidge, unrepentant. Then her eyes fell on his shirt that he’d spilled his drink all over. “Oh. Uh. Actually sorry.”

Shiro looked down at his chest with mounting dismay. Of all the days to wear a white shirt (this was why he wore black: it wasn’t depressing, it was practical). The promotional drink was an unnatural red and splattered over most his front. It wasn’t something that could be hidden and Shiro could already tell the color wasn’t coming out.

“We could try rising it?” said Pidge, and she honestly sounded contrite.

“Dump the drink over all the shirt?” Keith offered.

“Hold on,” said Hunk. He started rummaging behind the couch. “I think Shiro’s vest from the Toronto show is in here. I know that shows off your prosthetic a lot without anything to go under it but—”

“That’s fine. You’re right: it’s probably the best option. Lance, when is Allura supposed to show up?”

Lance glanced at his phone. “Uh, now, actually?”

“All right. Not much time.” Shiro forced the panic to stay out of his voice. “Hunk—”

“Found it!”

“Good.” Shiro grabbed the back of his shirt, getting ready to pull it over his head. It had stuck to his chest where the drink spilled and was starting to feel sticky.

“Um, guys?”

Shiro yanked his shirt off, turning as he said, “Yeah, Pidge?”

But it wasn’t Pidge who answered.

“Oh my.”

Oh no.

Oh no nononononononono.

Allura—superstar, perfect, idolized Allura—was standing their doorway, blocking the way for the rest of her entourage. Shiro pressed his crumbled shirt to his chest in a vain attempt to preserve his modesty. Which was helped not at all by the way Allura (unfairly hot in skin-tight silver jeans and an adorable crop-top) was staring.

Staring. At him. Shiro. Who could feel that last of that godsforsaken drink drip to his bellybutton.

They both started talking at once.

“Sorry—”

“So sorry—”

“—I was just—”

“—Of course! Abs—I mean! Absolutely—”

“—you too—wait, that’s not—”

Pidge’s cackling laughter put a stop to their train wreck, but only gave more time for Shiro’s blush to attempt to melt his face off. Fortunately (or not so fortunately?), Allura didn’t seem to be faring much better.

“Should we give you two some privacy?” asked Lance, all waggling eyebrows.

“No, you should not,” said Allura, drawing herself up and doing a nice job of returning to professionalism considering Shiro was still half-naked and drowning in mortification. She brushes her hands on her pants. “Let’s return to business.”

Her assistant snorted behind her. “Like you can talk business when you just ogled his chest for five minutes.”

“Romelle!”

Well, at least Shiro wasn’t the only one mortified now.

“We’re here to discuss a collab, which is what we’ll do,” said Allura. But she met Shiro’s eyes looking sheepish and a tiny bit shy. "Unless..."

“Could I buy you a drink after this?”

That was not what Shiro intended to say.

But, holy crow, if Shiro had thought that pink crop-top looked hot on Allura before, it had nothing on the tiny, confident smirk growing on her face. “Hm. Are you referring to the one on your chest?”

Shiro's mouth continued to run without his permission.

“I was thinking we could work up to that.”

Keith pretended to gag behind him, but Shiro didn't care because Allura, freaking I-don’t-need-a-last-name-I’m-like-Beyonce Allura, was flirting with him and Shiro was pretty sure if he tried right now, he could fly.

“Ugh, gross. Gross! Hunk, don’t look!” said Pidge, scrambling to put her hands over Hunk’s eyes. Meanwhile, Lance was smiling like a shark.

“Perhaps we finish this up first?” said Allura. The way she was smiling at him made Shiro feel like there were tiny supernova going off in his chest.

“That—that works.” Frankly, Shiro was astonished his words still worked at this point.

Allura clapped her hands together with an authoritative “All right!” and yep, Shiro was in love. “Enough of this. Let’s get down to business.” She strode further into the room and consequently closer to Shiro. “On one condition,” she said, tapping Shiro’s chest.

“Yeah?”

“You keep that shirt off.”

Well.

Shiro felt his own smirk blooming on his face. He could work with that.

#shallura #shalluraweek2020 #mckinlily writes: VLD fic #can't follow a prompt to save my life but i'm going to try

[bangtan-madi]

All Of Our Lifetimes — Two: Vase with Honesty

Pairing — Taehyung x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Taehyung, husband!Taehyung, reincarnation au, lovers to strangers and to lovers again, established relationship, implied soulmate au

Genre — fluff, angst, crime (ish)

Word Count — 2.7k

Summary — Does love ever truly end, or does it simply take another form in a new life? The cycle is like clockwork: your lives end and you’re reborn again. You’ve lived it over and over. Each cycle, one of you loses your memories and is tragically unaware until the other finds and awakens their lover. After all these eons, all these lifetimes, is it possible to find each other again—even when neither of you awakens with your memories? 

Part — 2 / 10

Warnings — language, brief mention of murder

Previous — Next

The Friday after your application is sent, you receive a response from Big Hit. Never in your wildest dreams did you ever think you would get a response this quickly, let alone with the contents therein.

"What the fuck!" you scream, nearly throwing your laptop across your bedroom. 

Milo storms through the door, eyes wide with panic as she scans your bedroom for signs of an emergency. "What the fuck?"

"Exactly! Look at this!" You shove the laptop in her direction, biting your nails in anticipation.

Though trepid, Milo takes the computer from your grasp and begins to scan the screen. As her eyes reach the bottom of the email, she begins to mirror your exact expression as her jaw drops and curses fly from her lips—in multiple languages.

"Oh my—What the hell, [Y/n]!"

"I know! I know," you laugh, giddy beyond what you can control. "Read further!"

"We'd love to conduct a phone interview with you at your earliest convenience. After which, if both parties choose to go forward, we would like to do an in-person interview in Seoul. [Y/n]! This is practically a yes!"

"Not quite...but it's a start!"

Milo giddily shoves the laptop back towards you, practically bouncing in place. "Call them, call them, call them!"

Two days later, you find yourself alone and on a plane bound for Seoul. The initial interview with Big Hit went extremely well. You were able to converse with a representative in both Korean and English, and went over your resume and other various technical aspects of the position.

"I have to get this out of the way," the woman spoke with a serious tone. "You're not applying for this job because you're Army, right?"

"No," you answered immediately, your voice assured. "Not at all. It's always been my dream to live in Seoul. My roommate can tell you, we've been looking for jobs for a few weeks, ever since graduation."

"Good, because I can tell you right now that we try to screen for that kind of behavior as best as we can. It's part of the interview and background check process. It has to be. I mean, it’s fine to be a fan, but for the safety of the members, we have to make sure that no fanatics are hired and get close to them. A very small percentage of the company interacts with them at all, let alone regularly, but I had to ask."

She seemed overly concerned about that part, and you're not quite sure she believed you. Other than that, you feel that it couldn't have gone better. In fact, you were certain. Why else would they pay for you to fly to Seoul for an in-person interview, which she described as the final part of the hiring process?

You can't help the nervous tingles that travel along your neck and down your spine. The excitement fills your fingers and toes, and you struggle to keep still in your seat. Things are finally moving forward. The dream you've had since you were a child is finally coming to fruition. Everything is falling into place.

But another part of you recalls the literal dream that's occupied your mind for just as long, a subconscious memory or recollection that hasn't left for years. How much longer can you take this nightmare? Isn't it normal for people to have other dreams, not just the same one over and over and over?

The man with the dark, curly hair. The murderer with a gun. The museum halls and flowing blood and untimely demise. 

This Taehyung, this member of BTS, what will happen when—or if—you meet? Will he recognize you, too? Will he tell you he has that same nightmare? Will he know why you are connected, despite having never met or heard of each other?

You shake your head, trying to focus on what lies ahead as the plane starts to descend through the air. If you do land this job at BigHit, then you can look for the answers you so desperately seek. If this is meant to be, you'll get what you're looking for. One way or another. Of that, you are sure.

That same part of you is terrified of what you might find when you do.

Or what will become of you if you don't.

You're the first to grab your overhead luggage and exit the plane. After navigating security and international check-ins, you spot a short-haired woman in a suit holding a sign over her head. Your name is written in big, bold letters.

As you approach, the woman smiles and greets you with a bow. "You must be Ms. [Y/l/n]?"

You nod eagerly, offering her the same greeting. "Lovely to meet you...?"

"I am Director Hyeon, I head Human Resources for Big Hit Entertainment. We spoke on the phone earlier this week. Please, follow me."

Doing as Director Misun Hyeon asks, you're escorted to a car parked along the sidewalk outside the airport. The Director tells the driver to take your bags and return to Big Hit HQ. Along the way, she makes small talk about your trip and the life you have in America. She's very professional and reserved, but also very sweet, instantly putting you at ease for your interview.

When the car drives up to the enormous, glass building in downtown Seoul, you're taken aback by the monstrous size of Big Hit headquarters. You knew they were a large company, staffing over five hundred people from your research, but seeing the sight in person has an entirely different effect.

"We just moved into this building this year," Director Hyeon states with a hint of pride. The car turns the corner and descends into the private underground garage. "The company has outgrown the last building, so when our contract was up, we knew we would need to expand."

"How many floors does it have?" you say, gawking at the many floors, both above and below you.

"Nineteen above, seven below," she replies, exiting the car. "Out interview will be on the top floor, so you can have a look at the view."

Director Hyeon wasn't kidding when she said there's a view. The entire penthouse level of the new Big Hit office is lined with floor-to-ceiling windows. Light streams in, ricochetting off the glassy surfaces to toss rainbows across the room. Peering down from the walkway, you see the expansive Seoul City spread out below. Everything looks so much smaller from two-hundred feet in the air. So beautiful, it's enough to take your breath away.

You have to get this job. After seeing this place, there's no other path you can see ahead of you.

The Director escorts you to her office, a room encased by another series of glass panels to give the illusion of privacy. Across from her, you can see several other offices of similar design. She asks you take a seat, getting you a cup of coffee as you make yourself comfortable.

In your mind, the interview couldn't have gone better. You were confident and assured of your abilities, and you have the grades and some experience to back it up. And the fact that you hit it off well with Director Hyeon doesn't hurt either.

As you finish up, she hands you the official memo on the position. "These are some of the tasks you'll be asked to do," she states, then continues to briefly overview what's on the page. "Your position would be Production Assistant, but that can mean doing just about anything, either in office, on tour, or on scene with one of the shows. You would do translation work, both ahead of time for press releases and social media as well as on the spot translations during events or interviews. And as I mentioned, you would handle the BTS official social medias for the English audience. They can post what they want, but they have been told to work with you on captions, tags, content, and the like."

She continues, "We're about to start work on a new album after the boys take a few weeks off from all the work they did on the last tour. When that happens, you might tag along in the studio and assist in various things there. When Bon Voyage or Run BTS begins shooting, you'll assist there. I know that word is vague, but I can promise it'll be more than just doing coffee runs or cleaning up after the boys." She laughs at that last part. "We have other people for that. What we need is someone that can really get into the trenches of the boys' work and help where needed, especially when it comes to the language barrier."

"Hence the bi-lingual requirement," you add.

Director Hyeon nods. "Exactly! So, I know this is a lot to take in, but we really are interested in you. We wouldn't have flown you all the way out here if we weren't. I do have a couple of other candidates I want to interview over the next day or so, but I have a feeling that you're our top pick. If you're willing to hang around Seoul for the next, say, forty-eight hours—all expenses paid, of course—I can give you a definite answer. Are you interested, Ms. [Y/l/n\?"

With a determined smile and eager nod, you reply, "More than you can imagine."

Finding things to do in Seoul isn't difficult at all. In fact, the rest of the day goes by pretty quickly. After the Big Hit driver takes you to your hotel and helps you carry your bags to your room, you take the rest of the evening to go out and explore the city. The food, the festivities, the feelings: if this is going to be your new home, you want to see it all.

The next day, knowing that you probably won't hear from Director Hyeon until the following day, you set back out into the city with a plan to see as many of the sights as possible. The night before, you'd laid in bed and made a plan of attack to take on Seoul. While knowing you wouldn't get to nearly all the spots you wanted, you made a list of the ones closes to your hotel, within walking distance. 

The day was absolutely beautiful. Whether or not you got this job, you weren't going to waste your forty-eight hours in South Korea.

In the morning, you visit several historic sites—such as the green space and onetime royal burial ground at Hyochang Park, the architectural and sightseeing wonders of Seoullo 7017, and the restored 1300s fortress wall and the pedestrian gate of Sungnyemun. After grabbing lunch at a local restaurant, you turn towards some of the other sights.

As you pass by City Hall, the building around the corner catches your eye. It's a large, old building crafted from concrete and bricks. It stands out from some of the more modern sights in the area. Edging closer, moving through the greenery around it, you see the name of the building come into perfect view.

서울시립미술관. Seoul Museum of Art.

Without thinking too hard about it, your feet take you towards the museum. You can't put your finger on it, but like the city itself, there's something so alluring and familiar about it. This whole trip has been one big, "Haven't I been here before?" This place, however, gives you heightened feelings. Both positive and negative.

You brush it off, convincing yourself they've arisen due to jetlag and job-related nerves.

The museum is even more awe-inspiring on the inside. The expansive interior is painted white to create more of a contrast between the walls and the art. Galleries stretch out in different directions, but you're drawn to one of the open rooms a little further in.

People flutter about, quietly chatting in various languages about the temporary exhibit that takes up little space but all the focus. It's a set of several still life oil paintings by Vincent Van Gogh on lend from the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam. They're displayed along temporary glass walls that circulate the wing. A tour guide leads several visitors to each painting.

Your eyes trail from one to the next, but when you catch sight of a piece covered in shades of brown and orange, you halt mid-step. The painting looks so familiar to you, more than anything you've seen so far. If there is anything calling you to this place, this painting has to be it.

The card below the piece says that the name is "Vase with Honesty." Painted in autumn of 1884, it was one of Van Gogh's first still lifes.

"The name 'honesty' may refer to the translucence of the round seed pods, which turn a silvery-white colour in the autumn," the plaque reads. "They then resemble silver coins, and in Dutch this plant is called the judaspenning, 'coin of Judas'. This is a reference to the apostle Judas, who betrayed Christ for 30 pieces of silver. He is said to have thrown the coins to the ground when he hanged himself. Where they landed, the honesty plant later grew."

Minutes later, after the tour guide and most of the patrons have moved on to other exhibits, you're left alone with "Vase with Honesty."

Almost alone.

Another person remains to your right, a few feet between you. Out of the corner of your eye, you see that it's a figure dressed in black sweatpants and a grey hoodie. His face is hidden by the hood, as well as a face mask that covers everything from his jaw to just under his eyes. This man is a half-foot taller than you, you estimate, and while you can't see his face, he also feels inexplicably familiar.

Like you, the art-loving, stranger's eyes are glued to this one particular painting. And like you, his gaze is that of both confusion, realization, and familiarity.

"I feel like I've seen this somewhere else," you murmur, trying to break the silence. Normally, you would've kept quiet, but there's something about this person that leads you to speak up. "It's familiar, isn't it?"

The man nods once, not replying verbally.

"Have you ever seen it before?"

"No," he responds in a quiet whisper, then gestures to the brochure in his hand. "This painting hasn't been here since 1995. It's come back for the first time in twenty-five years."

"Wow, really?"

He nods again. "The brochure says that the Van Gogh Museum hasn't lent out most of its art since then. I overheard one of the tour guides saying something about an accident at this Musem that caused them to recall all their temporary exhibits."

You shift your eyes from the stranger to the painting. "Then how could I know this one so well? I was born in 1995 for god's sake."

"I was, too, so I don't know...maybe we saw it online or something."

"It feels stronger than that," you insist, wrapping your arms around yourself to ease the chill crawling up your spine at the thought of whatever might have happened here in 1995. "Do you know what happened twenty-five years ago?"

"One of the artists working at the Museum was murdered."

Your head jerks back around to stare at the man, wide eyes locking briefly with his dark irises. "Murdered?"

He nods and gestures to the exhibit with the brochure. "That's why they started showing them in glass casings. If you look close to the corner, you can see a tiny, bloody fingerprint."

Turning back to the Van Gogh piece, you step closer, squinting your eyes at the bottom left corner where the man gestured. Sure enough, at the very edge, a smear of crimson in the shape of a fingerprint can be seen.

"What the hell?" you gasp, eyes widening again. "Hey, do you mind if I see that broch—"

Your sentence falls off at the end as you turn. The space behind you where the stranger once stood is empty. He is nowhere in sight, and his familiar aura has gone with him.

#bangtan-madi writes #all of our lifetimes #aool #taehyung #taehyung x reader #kim taehyung #kim taehyung x reader #bts #bangtan sonyeondan #bangtan #bts fluff #bts v #v #reincarnated au #reincarnation au #taehyung fluff #kim taehyung fluff #fanfic #taehyung fic #boyfriend!taehyung #husband!taehyung #soulmate au #strangers to lovers #established relationship #taehyung angst #bts angst

[sortavibing]

hii there, could i get a male romantic match up pls ?? i’m a infp, 5’3, virgo & slytherin. my pronouns are she/her & i’m bi. i love dancing, learning languages, music, memes, alt fashion, making people laugh, piercings, tattoos, making playlists & affection. i’m v insecure & i also have really bad anxiety so i lowkey need someone to take care of me bc i’m a mess and i always put others before me, sometimes i even forget to eat. my body type is curvyish, with chubby cheeks & brown eyes and i often dye my hair (it’s currently half black, half pink). i’m usually at home, whenever i go out i always put on my earphones. my music taste is very wide, i pretty much listen to everything. however, the bands/artists that i listen to the most are: lil peep, the neighbourhood, arctic monkeys & mother mother. i’m pretty opinionated and sarcastic, even though i’m an introvert i’m not afraid to talk back if i have to. i despise any kind of discrimination, having been bullied myself the first few years of high school. i use lots of “internet slang” on the daily and use emojis ironically. i hate being vulnerable in front of others, that’s why i always put an “idgaf” attitude even though i overthink everything. i kinda have trust issues and i’m very bad at expressing my feelings vocally, so i usually do it with affection, that’s why i consider it my love language. it’s really hard for me to say no to someone so people usually take advantage of me and even if i know it, i can’t stop it bc i just want to make everyone happy ): aaaa this was sooo long but i wanted it to be as specific as possible so it’d be easier for u. thank you so much, i hope you’re taking care of yourself properly. <3 <3

hello! thank you for requesting! you sound like so much fun to be around (we are lowkey the same) and i aspire to have your hair (i kinda screwed mine up today :I). anyways, here’s your matchup!

i match you up with iwazumi!

iwazumi is actually pretty good at comforting and caring for people, because he has so much practice helping oikawa, so he will always be there for you to remind you to eat, help you through a panic attack, compliment you, and just be a very stable anchor in your life that will ground you while still showing you affection.

he also thinks the alt fashion is really cool, and you were able to convince him to get a helix piercing, and though he pretends it was all your idea, he actually really likes it, and often looks for different studs/rings when he is out shopping. his favorite earring he has is one with 2 silver rings that are a little rough and handmade looking.

if you guys are out in a public place, he always brings a spare set of earphones and a portable battery, just in case you misplace your earphones or your phone runs out of battery. he really likes when you make playlists for him, and whenever he misses you, he listens to one of the playlists you made for him.

iwa really enjoys physical affection too, but he doesn’t initiate it that much, so if you guys are walking together, please hold his hand, because that will literally make his day. he would also be really good at giving hugs, so if you ever are feeling bad, he would wrap you in his arms and just stay there until you feel a little better.

he will always offer to help you touch up your dyed roots, and he’s surprisingly really good at it, so iwazumi has now become your resident hairstylist, and he secretly enjoys dying your hair, so while he does grumble a few complaints when he has to help you, he soon gets really into it, and even offers to try something a little more complicated, because he thinks it would look really good on you.

one of your most memorable dates was when iwazumi surprised you with tickets to an arctic monkey’s concert. you guys were almost late to the show, but once you got there, you and iwa spent the whole night dancing and singing with each other, and after the concert, he took you to your favorite place to eat (if it was open), and you spent the rest of the night and the morning just talking with each other and enjoying the city.

when he first saw you voice your opinion against discrimination towards LGBTQ+, and got into an argument with someone about it, he was really surprised and impressed that you were able to hold your ground and still keep your cool. seeing the side of you that was willing to defend what you believe in made him fall in love with you a little bit more, and he was sure to mention how amazing it is that you refuse to let people be discriminatory against others.

 iwazumi refuses to let people walk all over you, so if you ever tell him that you are uncomfortable in a situation and you don’t want to say no, he will immediately be there, in person or on the phone to shut down that person fast. he hates that people want to take advantage of you, so he will do everything in his power to show others that you aren’t just a girl who won’t say no.

he knows you like the alt fashion, so if he ever sees something that he is sure will look good on you, he will buy it and give it to you the next time he sees you, so because of this, a lot of your favorite items of clothing are bought by iwazumi, and whenever you wear them around him, he gets really proud that you like what he bought for you.

overall, you and iwazumi are the peak rbf couple, but you both care a lot about each other. he always makes sure that you put yourself before anyone else, because he just wants you to realize how beautiful and amazing you are. your relationship was built on a lot of trust, and you know he would never lie to you, because he just wants you to be happy.

i hope you enjoyed!

#haikyuu #haikyuu matchups #iwazumi hajime #iwazumi #haikyu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu headcanons #iwazumi headcanons #haikyu headcanons #iwazumi imagines #haikyu imagines #haikyuu imagines #iwa #iwazumi x you

[writerofshit]

Secret Santa:X

(This is half headcanon, half fic, all fun times and emotions)

(Shoutout to the Penthouse discord server for help on some of the gifts, would have been lost without you)

The last Christmas they have in the penthouse, Ryan brings up Secret Santa again. It’s partly a joke, partly a nod to the nostalgia that’s been eating at all of them the last few months. He brings it up when they’re all gathered in the living room, watching Gavin try and prove his stealth abilities in Hitman.

(“Just because you can be stealthy in a video game doesn’t mean I’m letting you come with me.” Jack had said at the beginning of it all.

“If I get silent assassin you have to take me!”

“This is your fourth run through!”)

Anyhow, Ryan brings it up, all nonchalant. “Remember that year we did Secret Santa?”

“No?” Jeremy says honestly.

“Before your time.” Michael says with a smile, patting him on the head.

“It was fun. We should do it again.”

(”Goddamnit!” On screen, Gavin dies again.)

The next day they have a meeting of all the ‘movers and shakers’, as Geoff has taken to calling them. He announces that Secret Santa is yet again a thing, and no, Matt, you can’t get out of it. There’s no budget, because they all have access to more money than they know what to do with.

They throw eleven names in a hat and go from there. Geoff calls first pick because he’s an asshole like that, and his choice picks next, so on and so forth.

 “Just get your shit done by Christmas, and we’ll do it then.”

--

Geoff pulls Gavin, and only panics a little.

The kid has everything he could ever want, what’s he really supposed to do? He considers what he might need, ends up crossing ‘bulletproof vest and a helmet’ off the list because it feels a little impersonal. He could do liquor of some sort, but he suspects there will be enough of that floating around on Christmas day.

He considers a camera, knows Gavin is into that kind of shit, but he’s lost a lot of knowledge in that department over the years. The only person who knows enough is Gavin himself, and that kind of defeats the point.

He ends up going for a new pair of gold shades, because the old ones are pretty worn out after six-plus years, and he’s almost positive Gavin has lost them. (Probably in Ryan’s room, but that’s neither here nor there) He gets a pair that have diamonds along the arms, and even though they’re ridiculously expensive he thinks it’s worth it.

Gavin adores them, has them on within 30 seconds of unwrapping them. He pokes himself in the eye, and that feels like a bonus to Geoff.

--

Gavin pulls Trevor, and while he plays it off at first “Oh, this will be easy, I got this person for sure!” he absolutely has no idea what to do.

 There’s a weird bit of time where he tries to get to know Trevor better. He learns absolutely nothing new, despite following the guy for almost a week.

There’s a night he lays in bed with Ryan, bitching about this whole thing. “What the hell do I do? This was terrible for me last time, why would you suggest this?”

He ends up calling Barbara from the Roosters to try and figure out something, who promptly makes fun of him for not knowing anything about the guy he’s worked with for years. She does give one bit of new information, so he goes with it.

He gives Trevor tickets to the next Motocross event, because it’s apparently something he’s into. He throws in a NASA t-shirt as a joke, a nod to the world Trevor left behind.

Both items go over well, Trevor immediately pulling the shirt on over what he’s already wearing. He won’t shut up about Motocross for the rest of the day, either.

--

Trevor pulls Ryan, which he’s immediately terrified of.

 He knows Ryan well enough to know that there won’t be any serious repercussions if he fucks it up, he won’t get gutted over a poor gift choice. But he also knows he’ll get that weird stare Ryan does when he’s pretending to consider whether or not to hurt someone. Plus he won’t live it down from the rest of the crew.

At first he goes to Gavin for help, because apparently nobody is taking the ‘secret’ part seriously. Gavin absolutely refuses to help him, mostly for the laughs. He knows Gavin’s getting a kick out of watching him squirm over this, which is so unfair. Then he asks Jack for help, who just shrugs. 

“You’re a smart guy, Trevor, you’ll figure something out.”

He does, sort of. He gives Ryan a 24 pack of diet coke (because what else?) and an actually beautiful rainbow knife. It seems pretty heavy duty, and he knows its right up his alley. He also throws in some earplugs as a joke.

 “So you can tune out Gav’s idiocy whenever you need.”

“Come on, Trevor. I’ve had years of practice at that. The knife is gorgeous though.”

--

Ryan pulls Alfredo, and he’s not too worried about it.

Alfredo’s their go-to sniper these days, and a new sniper rifle seems pretty obvious. Maybe a gift card to Ammunation or something? It does feel a little lackluster, even to him, so he brings it up to Gavin one night, while Gav is still debating t-shirts from Amazon.

“That’s a bit boring, isn’t it?”

“You’re buying a NASA shirt for an ex-aerospace engineer. I’m gonna need you to rethink your stance on this one.”

“Nah. You gotta do something better for Fredo, he deserves it.”

Which. alright, then what the fuck is he supposed to do? He gets his answer the next week when he sees Alfredo on a motorcycle for the first time.

“I’m going to teach you how to actually ride that thing.” Which is good, a chance to catch up and hang out. Bad, because Ryan’s method of teaching is ‘learn by doing’ and does in fact result in shouting.

Ryan still gives him the sniper rifle, which he is far more excited about.

--

Alfredo pulls Fiona, and it’s the first time he marginally regrets joining the crew.

He’s got no fucking idea what she’d like, what gift she’d appreciate and not hit him over. He tries to be casual about asking around, hoping someone might have better insight. The rest of the crew catches on immediately, and they flood him with false information.

“She loves chocolate. Favorite Halloween candy, in fact!” Michael tells him, but the grin he has says otherwise.

“She mentioned something about wanting to learn a new language.” Jack says seriously.

“Get her an English to French dictionary, she’ll love it.” Gavin tacks on.

“French, yep. She definitely wants to learn that one.”

Lindsay is the only one who actually helps him. “She’s been known to enjoy a drink or two.”

By sheer luck he happens to walk into one of the thousand arguments Fiona has with Michael over the whole ‘Halloween candy’ debacle, and he knows immediately that's a bad route to go down.

He ends up making a gift basket full of liquor mini’s and various candies. He makes sure not to include any chocolates, and throws some extra blowpops in, just to be safe.

Thankfully, she does appreciate the thought he put in, and she says she’ll only share with Alfredo since everyone else is an asshole.

--

Fiona pulls Lindsay, and it’s not hard to figure out what she’ll like.

 She considers something chaotic, the two of them wreaking havoc on the city together. It makes sense. She also thinks about organizing a ‘girls day’, getting all the ladies of the crew together to go out and fuck some shit up. There’s a lot of logistics involved in that one, including convincing some of them to be out in the field like that.

It crosses her mind to bring Lindsay to a shelter to play with cats, because if there’s one thing Lindsay likes more than chaos, it’s cats. That’s also a bit of a logistical nightmare, not to mention the strength it would take to pry her away.

In the end she goes with cat merch. It’s a basket full of goodies, including a mug with a cat holding a bi-pride flag, a dress with various cartoon cats on it, and a cat necklace that has her birthstone as the body.

It’s beautiful, and Lindsay just about cries. She too, immediately changes into her new clothing, and she drinks everything out of the mug for at least a month.

--

Lindsay pulls Matt, and at first she panics.

She knows him fairly well, but like... He’s a real weirdo, what’s she supposed to do with that? She wonders what games he could use, if there’s anything he hasn’t bought himself.

Her confusion lasts until she mentions it to Michael. (Only after he let it slip who he’d picked.)

“Are you fucking kidding me? Matt’s the easiest goddamn one!”

“Bullshit! Name one thing you know about M.att B.ragg!”

“He eats like shit! Give him a box of donuts and he’ll lose his fuckin mind.”

Her response of  “Oh my god.” is barely heard.

She spends a week trying out different recipes, much to Ryan’s delight. He’s happy to play taste-tester while she finds the perfect flavor combination.

She winds up going with a double chocolate espresso concoction. Matt is, of course, super stoked about his cupcakes, and damn near has to fight Ryan off to protect them.

--

Matt pulls Jeremy, which is pretty much a slam dunk.

Whiskey is the obvious choice, one he’ll absolutely go with, thank you very much. Who said taking the easy way out never got you anywhere?

And it would have, if it weren’t for Geoff.

There’s a debate that happens about a week before Christmas, something about the necessity of going to the liquor store. Michael and Jeremy are firmly pro-trip, and Geoff just wants them to “stay home and do some goddamn work. Besides, it’s not like half of you guys aren’t buying each other liquor anyway. In a week I’m sure we’ll be fully stocked.”

Which, alright. Fuck Matt then, huh? He’d genuinely thought it was a good idea, a mix of thoughtful and practical.

He decides to pair the whiskey with- well, it’s kind of a joke gift, but at least he won’t be accused of only buying liquor.

He commissions a customized cowboy hat. Half purple half orange, split right down the middle. There’s a neon yellow buckle on it, and it’s the ugliest thing Matt has ever seen in his life.

Jeremy loves it though, thinks it’s goddamn perfect. He wears it for the rest of the day, and for the next heist.

(Michael is less enthused.)

--

Jeremy pulls Michael, and that-

That’s harder than it should be.

He and Michael have been doing this... Whatever the fuck it is for over six months now, and they haven’t goddamn talked about. Not really. They’ve had moments,sure, here and there when they’re both drunk and thinking far too much about it. Reminding each other that they’re happy, that this is a good time, wouldn’t change it for the world-

But there’s still nights they sleep alone and they don’t talk about why. They still don’t really mention it to anyone else, even if they all know. Jeremy still doesn’t know how to answer when someone asks what the deal is with him and Michael.

So it’s hard, right, to come up with a relationship- appropriate gift. Too jokey and he’ll feel bad. Too serious isn’t their style at all. Plus like… how’s he supposed to do that in front of everybody? Just because they know there’s something there doesn’t mean they need to put on a show.

He settles on the obvious, nice bottle of tequila and a couple of shot glasses. It’s not exactly personal, but it’s good enough to show the room.

Later, in a quiet moment they can steal away, Jeremy offers to take him out the next night.

“We’ll do the bar thing, just you and me. My treat.”

“Oh yeah? You’re buying my drinks all night?” Michael asks him with a sly grin.

“I uh- I’ll get your drinks for as long as you’ll have me.” and it doesn’t come out exactly right, but they both know what he means by it.

Earns him a smile and a sweet kiss, and that alone is worth it.

--

Michael pulls Jack, and he runs through a few options.

He considers buying her furniture, because he knows she'll need it when they all finally do move out. But Jack has a good head on her shoulders and probably already has that shit on lock.

He looks into custom shelving, for all the knick knacks she's collected over the years. He could get it designed in colors she'd like and shell out extra for lighting and all that shit. But she doesn't have a new place yet, as far as he knows, so that's kind of a bust.

He could give her what amounts to a gift certificate, an offer to pay for whatever she wants made, but that seems kind of… Empty?

There's the age old alcohol gift, but that's been done before, and is probably being done by almost everyone else.

He mentions to Lindsay how weirdly difficult it is to buy something for Jack, get’s zero advice but somehow helps her figure out the whole Matt mystery.

In the end he decides to help her out and piss her off, a little bit of a win-win kinda thing. He buys her a couple of new shirts, bold and flowery and almost as bad as Jeremy’s Rimmy Tim shtick. He hates them but he knows she loves them, so it’s worth it.

He tells her it’s because her old shirts gotta be falling out of fashion, an opinion she is not happy about.

But it’s fine, because he also gets her tickets to fucking Disney World, of all places. He even offers to go with her, which she absolutely takes him up on.

It’s more fun than he expects, and it’s a really good chance to actually spend some time with her. He hadn’t realized it had been so long.

--

Jack pulls Geoff, which.

It’s no secret that Geoff is a sentimental bastard when it comes to the crew. It’s exactly why he’d spent months talking to her about the possibility of selling the penthouse, trying to figure out exactly how everyone would react, trying to figure out how he would react to not having them all so close anymore. She spent countless nights listening to him wonder what it meant that he wanted his own space.

Objectively, he was probably a bad person but his love and fierce loyalty to the crew made up for that, in some ways, right? So how can he kick them out, how can he do this to them, he’s being selfish-

And she had just explained to him that he had to do what was right for him. That it was understandable. That he was right, they could all use the opportunity to be a little more independent. She was looking forward to having her own space, and in time the rest of them would too.

So when she pulls Geoff’s name, she knows she’s gotta lean into that a bit. She could get him some books, some puzzles maybe. He’d mentioned off-hand that he missed having the space for them, because the kitchen table was always covered in some sort of crew shenanigans.

She does get him those, because she knows they’ll get some use.

But the big thing is the collage.

She’s had pictures of the crew on her phone for years, dating all the way back to her and Geoff in a shitty apartment. She’s got some of Ray, curled up on the couch with a DS in his hand. Gavin and Michael wrestling one drunken night. Ryan, nodded off on the couch after a heist, face paint still on and a complete mess. Jeremy trying to teach Matt something resembling self-defense. Lindsay cuddling a stray cat she had taken in. Trevor and Alfredo in matching clothes, playing up the ‘twin’ joke that had been going around. Fiona in that bright yellow suit, modeling for her Instagram.

There’s one she gets at the last minute, gets somebody from the support team to take right before their latest heist. It’s all eleven of them, full heist get-up, masks and obnoxious fashion choices and guns tucked here and there. They’re in the boardroom, running through it one more time before they take off, and in retrospect, it’s probably the last time they’ll do that in that room.

She sets that one in the middle, surrounded by all of these moments from the last 12 years.

“For your new place, when you find it.” Jack says.

It’s beautiful, and it makes Geoff cry. It brings some sniffles from a lot of them, even if they all deny it.

Leaving the penthouse isn’t the easiest thing for any of them, but it’s the right move. After all, they’re still a family.

#ks writes #fahc #fahc headcanon #ragehappy #christmas in july yall #i honestly love this a lot and hope yall do too #jeremichael #tagging those boys for Reasons

[ajokeformur-ray]

Headcanon for Arthur with a paranoid S/O? Like, panic attack because she can't find him for 5 minutes D/O?

Okay so just to make sure I was on the right page, I Googled paranoia and read up on it, so I hope that this is accurate; if it isn’t or something is wrong, then please let me know so I can make the necessary corrections.

Holy shit look at him… that intense gaze, those dark curls… I love him. He’s so beautiful I’m gonna cry.

Arthur was truly alarmed the first time you had a panic attack because you couldn’t find him.

You had been gazing at something in a shop window and so absorbed had you been in what you were looking at that, initially, you hadn’t noticed Arthur quickly ducking into Helms’ Pharmacy to pick up his prescriptions.

He had only been gone five minutes, but as he came out with that white paper bag loosely held within his hand did he see you frantically looking left and right, your breathing clearly irregular.

“Y-Y/N? What is it? What’s wrong? Did someone do this to you?” Arthur’s free hand gripped your upper arm as he, too, looked left and right, already intent on going after whoever did this to you.

Rage filled him and he felt an urge to throw punches, but your quiet whisper of his name drew his attention immediately to you, his strong, dark brow furrowed.

“What is it?” 

“Y-you were g-gone an-and I thought you’d left me.” 

All at once, Arthur understood. 

A sympathetic noise. “Oh, honey, no - look, I just - “ Arthur held up the pharmaceutical bag. “I went to get my medications. I didn’t leave.” 

Right there and then, as Arthur pressed a kiss to his temple, an arm wrapping around your waist, did he swear to himself to minimise the risk of this happening again.

At his next government appointed and funded mandatory therapy session (useless though it was), Arthur discussed what had happened with his social worker and asked for her advice.

She had, surprisingly, been relatively helpful and had given Arthur a leaflet containing information on paranoia; its symptoms, causes and how to help it, and Arthur had read it so often that he could perfectly envision every page clearly in his mind.

When you were at Arthur’s apartment, Arthur made sure that he was either within eye sight or hearing range; so that your fear that he would leave or be taken from you was minimised.

When he was at work, he would use his lunch break to phone you and tell you that he was okay and when you could roughly expect him home.

Arthur followed that leaflet to the letter and he also asked you questions on how best to help you. He was attentive and eager to learn, eager to please and to be the best partner to you that he could be, for he was also scared that one day you would leave him and find someone overall better.

At the core of your relationship is fear that the other will leave, but also love - you have such a deep and strong love based on understanding and mutual respect and trust. This trust and this communication is what is at the core of any long lasting relationship; and therefore do the two of you have it in abundance.

Despite all of these precautions, though, sometimes the bus doesn’t come or he’s kept back at work or or or… there are many scenarios which could mean that Arthur doesn’t make it home at the time he expects to be so, and he would use his spare pocket change to call you from a pay phone - failing that, he’s not above pleading with Hoyt to use the office phone; though the call charges come out of his meagre wages.

As such, he rushes the hour walk home, his leg muscles burning and his feet aching as they pound into the concrete, his lungs burning and craving oxygen as he runs, runs, home to you, fear and worry fuelling him when he desperately wants to stop, to breathe.

He’d been on his feet for nine hours but still does he run home to get to you, knowing before he even gets to the apartment that you’re going to be having a panic attack somewhere, your fear so strong and so rational; paranoid or not, Gotham is a deadly and dangerous place and the crime rate is higher than it ever has been before. Plus the rubbish strike and the unemployment rate skyrocketing… it is dangerous and your fears of each other dying is almost always at the forefront of your minds.

Arthur would crash through the front door, which is left to slam close behind him. Even rain soaked as he is, exhausted and cold, hungry and desperate for a cigarette and shaking, you’re his first priority as he pulls you into his arms.

“I’m here, I’m here, shshsh,” He coos, pressing kisses everywhere he could reach, rocking you slightly in his hold as he held you through the panic attack. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry - “ through quick sentences which tripped over each other on their way out of his mouth did Arthur tell you what happened, his frequent apologies breaking up his explanation.

“I don’t care,” You would tuck yourself closer to Arthur, gripping one of his hands as you pressed kisses all over his face and anywhere else you could reach, “You’re here and you didn’t leave.”

“No,” Arthur hummed, pressing another kiss to your head, “I didn’t. I won’t. I love you, Y/N.”

Just those four words, spoken too much and yet never enough, would do. They would always bring you back home to Arthur, and he to you.

The Arthur Fleck/Joker Defense Squad @writings-of-a-gen-z                      @x-avantgarde-x       @insomniabird      @mavalenovaninagavi     @itwasrealenough     @morrisonmercurymalek     @rand0ms-fand0ms     @rafaelina-casillas     @aclownthing       @vivft                                          @help-i-am-obssessed      @autumnaffection       @taintednihilist   @vladtoly   @mg-woolf99      @misstgrey92   @dopey-fandom-girl         @seeking-dreamland      @sweetheart-syndrome      @heartxfdesire     @xmusichealsthesoulx       @0callmejude0      @the-one-that-likes-riddles        @hannibalsslut       @folliaght            @freeeshavacadoo         @bingewatchingmylifegoby       @unlovedbyeveryoneandeverything @okamiredfoxx       @sp0okysp0oky  @the-pandorabox      @mardema @jibanyyan        @honeyflvredcoughdrop         @emissarydecksetter @jokerfleckk         @epidendroideae         @chuuntas          @stillmabel       @pumpkinpeyes       @onehystericalqueenposts          @the-jokers-wolf       @nalsswa  @justahyena       @arianatheangelworld  @soullessblondbitch @gothamslittlejester  @twentyonestarrynights  @sirianfromsixties @kissmeclownman    @joker-is-my-hero  @lazyloosah  @lovesickkloxx @ladylovelyluna      @live-love-loki  @clownerybbxx   @tragicarthur    @anmach123      @rommie-chan      @arthurflock     @lucyboytom                  @immortal-bi-bitch    @hearthurfleck     @jokersproperty     @curlystark     @hailmary-yramliah    @sagyunaro     @playinthedarktillitsgoldenagain     @jokeringcutio      @xenthefox   @mijachula @stcrrynightsinneverlcnd      @cheyennejonas22    @mrjfleck      @pauli1100     @smitten-susie    @actualkey     @callmejokerfleck   @jaylovesbats    @itsforyoubitch      @ridiculousnerd     @killerprotector3579       @soulsdontbreaktheybeeend     @fantasticwinnerclodexpert                  @arthurs-sweater      @pinkie44pie    @tsukiakarinobara      @prettyxlittlexpsychoxprincess   @elodia-gahan   @yours-mia     @parkdonghoons      @lady-carnivals-stuff      @hobi-hobi-kyo-kkyu      @jupiturde        @incognitofish      @j-sux      @nothing-but-a-comedy      @tahliamalfoydepp     @sgtsavoytruffle      @smol-nari       @pocket-clown     @joker-flecked-me      @millandram     @obsessedandthirsty   @holosexualunicorn7000    @anyatheladyclown   @imightaswellnotexistatall

#nonnie #arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur fleck x reader #arthur fleck x you #arthur fleck x y/n #joker #joker x reader #joker imagine #joker x you #joker x y/n #joker 2019 #joker 2019 imagine #joker 2019 x reader #todd phillips #joaquin phoenix #Joaquin phoenix joker #joaquin phoenix x reader #joaquin phoenix imagine #joaquin pheonix joker #phoenix!joker #phoenix!joker x reader #phoenix!joker imagine

[dreamonminecraft]

oh yes, tell me more about this beautiful lesbian slowburn. I’m a sucker for a good love story

Okay so to start off, My sexuality fluctuates greatly throughout this story, but as of now I identify as a Bisexual lithsexual lesbian, which means that I am attracted to lots of people but lose attraction when the feelings are reciprocated, and I'll only date girls.

The story starts off August of 2018. I was starting 6th grade (middle school) and didn't really have any friends aside from a few people that I had last talked to in 3rd grade.

It's important to know that I'm a GT kid and so I almost always have the same group of about 20 kids. This started when I changed to an all GT class for 4th grade.

While it's nice to have a comfortable learning environment, it also means that there's no escape from any drama, and you get to pick friends from the very small pool of kids that you'll spend the rest of your education with.

This is a pretty long story as well and I'm not sure I'll be able to accurately retell many of the things because dates get mixed up and stuff. Anyway, I'm gonna try my best to explain but these are really only the things from my point of view and I don't remember a lot of the things. (This is also gonna be written like a fanfic because that's all I know how to write, I apologise)

So start of sixth grade, I don't really have any friends, I'm kind of this awkward nerd, there's 2 people in my class (we switch classes like normal middle school, but I'm with the GT kids for most of the day so that's what I'll refer to them as) that I've known for years, a few I've met before, but mostly new people.

I sit by some old friends from volleyball at lunch for the first few days but begin to feel unwelcome. One day I decide to sit by these two people that I know are in GT but haven't talked to before. I don't say anything, but I sit and they don't mind.

The next day we get new seats in English. I'm behind a boy named Owen, Inara, who is one of the girls I sat with at lunch, is to my right, and in front of her is a girl named Emilyse.

Inara and I hit it off immediately.

It's kind of crazy because we're both crazy anxious introverts, but we gel nicely. I'm a boyband-obsessed 11 year old and she's a mature and mysterious 11 year old.

She's a lefty. I'm a righty. The way we've been placed makes us bump arms everytime we try to write anything.

We have every class together. Somehow, we sit next to each other in every class as well, even in the ones where we didn't pick our seating chart.

It's September. I cry over boybands. She watches curiously.

For the next couple of months we casually talk. She spends every lunch period in the library. We text occasionally.

I have another friend who takes priority. His name is Logan. We got introduced by his friend Lennox when she asked for my phone number to give to him.

Lennox and I don't talk. Logan and I text nonstop for months. We discuss possibly dating in the future. I identify as bisexual and biromantic at this point.

I've been in this position before. Having mainly guy friends growing up puts me in a lot of awkward friendship/relationship situations. They always end the same.

I have an issue with dating in middle school. You're not dating if you don't go on dates, hold hands, kiss, or cuddle. But you can feel like you are.

In December Logan starts being mean. We start a game where we step on each other's shoes at lunch or in the hallway. It's fun.

Eventually, he recruits his friends to do it to me, too. It's a joke a first, but eventually there are 10 middle school boys chasing me and trying to hurt me.

I get kicked in the hallway and fall. Someone steps on my arm and people laugh. Logan watches. I tell Inara and she steps on his shoe for me.

Logan and I stop talking. Inara and I hang out more. By early January, Inara has stopped going to the library at lunch. We hang out with Emilyse in the field instead.

I text Logan one day in mid January and ask why we fell out. He says that I told someone that I was going to punch him in the face.

The person he said I told, only talked to me at the bus stop, and he didn't ride my bus. I had never said it in the first place, but his logic made it even more frustrating.

I tell him I got scared because I had a crush on him and didn't want to make things weird. It was a lie.

In February I came out to someone for the first time. They asked if I was bi and I said yes.

By March I had accepted that coming out didn't really make a difference. Inara and I hung out at school but not really anywhere else.

My birthday's in April. I invite her, Emilyse, and Rebekah. We paint rocks and draw on a table cloth. Emilyse feels distant.

Emilyse is homophobic. We find out in English one day. I don't remember how. Inara and I look at each other. We know we're both queer but haven't come out to each other.

I ask Emilyse if she would hate someone in GT for coming out. She says yes. Inara and I stop talking to her.

By May I've become obsessed with Marvel. Inara's interested in it and I decide to be, too. We talk about the movies. It gets awkward. She's not as interested when I get in on it.

By June we're best friends. We hang out fairly regularly, have all our classes together, and text all the time. Logan is forgotten.

School lets out at the start of June. We keep texting regularly. We make plans to see the new spiderman movie in early July with one of our other friends.

I have a complicated relationship with said friend. They're non-binary, although I didn't know it yet, and I've known them since Kindergarten. Inara met them in an advisory this year. I get jealous easily.

The day of the movie I shop at Kohl's. I buy the two of us matching shirts. We meet at the movie theater and it's awkward. I pay for popcorn and sneak in snacks that we share. Our friend's dad is there, but Inara and I don't have parents present.

We sit next to each other during the movie. At a certain scene, I start to get anxious. My stomach hurts and I can't breathe, I start to get sweaty.

I get up and rush out of the theater. I get to the women's bathroom and sit down on the floor of the very last stall. I'm panicing, dry heaving into the toilet, and trying not to cry. I try to text my mom that I'm having a panic attack but don't have reception.

I go back into the theater room after a few minutes. I'm still anxious, but better. Our friend is highly concerned, Inara just glances at me worriedly.

It's my first panic attack, and it sucked.

We leave awkwardly after it ends, trying to avoid the obvious elephant in the room. My mom is concerned when she picks me up. We don't talk about it. My dad and brother are watching it illegally when I get home.

We don't see each other until August of 2019, but continue to text through the rest of the summer.

When 7th grade starts, I'm still into Marvel. I've seen all the movies at this point, but there haven't been any new ones (even now) since FFH. Inara's interested, but not fully.

In late August/Early September we take BuzzFeed quizzes for fun and text each other the results. I take one about soulmates. I get her initials. I send her the link. She gets mine.

We take more and they all point to us being soulmates. We propose by sending pictures of rings over text. The wedding date is set for September 28th, 2019.

The time comes. It's Saturday and my brother has a double football game. We've planned to pick her up and take her there. It's a Christian league, so the games are at a church.

We go to the garden. There's a small white bench in some rocks, surrounded by flowers. We joke that we've had our ceremony. We wander around for a while longer.

My dad suggests that we go to the taco bell across the parking lot. We do. When we're done, we walk back to my house. Its not far, but we're alone. I carry her halfway back.

When we get to my house we pick things from my garden. We're barefoot and I'm wearing overalls. I joke that we're gonna get a farm one day when we're older.

She picks things while I stand back and watch. The sun hits her dyed-red hair just right. I vividly remember smiling at thinking "holy fuck she's pretty" you would think I'd put together my crush by then.

October rolls around and she cancels plans to go trick-or-treating with me. I'm upset but understand.

We "work" on a school project at her house. We don't actually get anything done before cuddling up on her bed and falling asleep to black panther.

In November, it's Emilyse's birthday party. We've gotten distant but still talk occasionally. Inara and I both go to the party.

We're watching Spiderman Far From Home because that's what Emilyse wanted. I've seen in twice, Ianra has too.

We're given candy and popcorn and then curl up on the couch. Inara and I sit next to each other.

(I forgot to mention this but at some point she stayed the night at my house. She slept on the floor in her swimming suit even though I asked if she wanted to sleep on the bed. Swimming was fun though. We also go to an arcade. We mini-golf and play laser tag. We also danced in the rain together at some point that day.)

Once we're no more than 15 minutes into the movie, I'm cuddled into her chest. It's important to mention that at this point I'm 5'6 and she's no more than 5'0.

We cuddle the entire movie. We share candy and pretend no one else is there. It feels great.

We don't talk about that night for months. Nobody brings it up. I come out to Rebekah around this time, saying no more than that I like girls. I still haven't told Inara.

By December, I've brought her to church a few times. I don't enjoy going to church, but my parents always encouraged it.

(I'd like to say at this point as well that I have been raised Christian and identify with the faith despite the fact that I despise Church and disagree with many of the common teachings. If I ever had to choose for some reason, my sexuality matters more to me than my religion. Regardless, I respect your beliefs if they differ from mine :) )

Inara's birthday is in mid December. Her party consists of us making gay jokes with our enby friend despite not being technically out to each other.

My church youth group plans ice skating. I invite her and she accepts. I'm worried about it. It's essentially a date. Neither of our parents will be there.

We carpool with the youth leaders, who are actually pretty cute for a hetero couple. Inara and I share awkward glances the whole time.

When we get there I learn that Inara took ice skating lessons as a child. She's much more confident than I am, but pretends she doesn't know what she's doing. I skate about once or twice a season, but also rollerblade.

There's a wet, sloped, melty part of the rink. I get nervous and grab her hand. She holds it until we're out of the melted ice.

Every lap around I grab her hand at that point. Eventually, we just keep holding hands for an entire lap.

By the end of the night, we've both fallen a few times but held hands the whole time. We drop her off and I say goodnight.

That night, I rant about the adventure to one of my (ex)friends, who excitedly listens to my talk about holding hands with a girl.

There's a GT Christmas party at Hannah's. Inara and I carpool there. It's an all together boring party with the exception of a few interesting truth-or-dare questions.

(side note, remember Owen? Well he's one of Inara and I's best friends and we were actually close enough that the three of us were basically cuddling on the couch during part of the party. Also the whole class knows about Inara and I's wedding and calls us wives.)

Paislie asks me if I wanted to "marry" Inara before we got "married". I mumble an answer that nobody hears. I don't repeat it. When it's time to leave, Inara and I have our legs intertwined on the couch. We don't mention that, either. We drop her off and I say goodnight.

January is good. There's a night, the 4th I believe, that we really connect. We officially come out to each other for the first time on that night, and it gets really real, really fast.

She says she's pan, I say I'm bi but confused.

In mid January she texts me that she's crying because one of her favorite YouTubers finally hit a million. She cries for hours but never tells me who. I pay it no mind.

A few days later, she mentions a YouTube channel called Unus Annus and tells me that it's super interesting. I text back but don't look it up.

A few more days pass and I'm randomly on the trending page for YouTube, which I never do. I see a video trending called "Mark and Ethan go casket shopping". The thumbnail is interesting enough that I check what the channel is. I notice it's the one Inara told me about.

I watch the video and subscribe within 5 minutes. I text Inara quotes from that video, Ethan Finally Becomes a Man, and the Lie Detector test videos, until she responds and is surprised that I found the channel.

I obsess quickly and depend on her to know the new video at 1pm everyday. She gets annoyed and we drift apart slowly.

In February things get rocky. We fight often. If I win a small argument she doesn't talk to me for hours. She gets pissed at refuses to tell me what the Unus Annus video is called if I ask too many times.

At some point I get fed up and confront her. I don't remember what about, but we stop talking all together.

Friends pick sides. I'm left alone. We don't talk for a month. She tells me that she pushed me away because she thought I'd react badly to her telling me she loves me.

I confess my crush. She tells me she feels the same.

We finally make up at about 8:30 on a Sunday night in March. It's not fixed but we plan to talk. And 9:00, the school district announces that it's shutting down until least after spring break.

We stopped trying to communicate, but eventually, slowly we started talking again. We text a few times a day now, mostly about UA and anxiety, the best combo.

We haven't seen each other since. We're probably going back to school in person in about a month, but I'm not sure. Nobody is.

I've called her my girlfriend on here before, simply because I don't know what we are. I joked the other day about how the youth leaders would react if I said I was texting my girlfriend.

Here's how that went:

So we're just jokingly married for now! It's a confusing pile of garbage but we both came out as lesbians the other day so that's a new development.

I don't know if any of that makes sense but I'll answer any questions anybody has :)

#asks #elle has girlfriend issues #unus annus #crankgameplays #markiplier #yes the guy who hit a million was ethan #thank you kait #im sorry this is so long #lesbian #wlw post #wlw culture #LGBTQ

[dakotacrisis]

Bright Beginnings

This is a spin-off chapter of my other fic: Transferred. If you haven’t read it then this may not make a lot of sense. At some point while writing Transferred Kagami and Marinette went from friends to awkward flirting dorks and I do not regret it one bit.

---

It was the morning after the fundraiser and Marinette was among one of the first awake. Marinette and Kagami were still cuddled together on the couch. Chloe was curled up in bed and Aurore was spread starfish on the floor. Sabrina was the only other one awake. They made eye-contact and Sabrina waved before returning to her phone.

Marinette’s leg was asleep and she wanted to brush her teeth and get something to eat but she also had a very warm and adorable fencer using her as a pillow. So suffice to say Marinette wasn’t moving. She did free one of her arms to brush the hair away from Kagami’s face.

“Hm?” Kagami’s face scrunched up as she awoke. She looked up at Marinette and gave her a sleepy smile.

“Good morning,” Marinette whispered so not to wake Aurore or Chloe.

“Mornin,” Kagami yawned, “Sorry for falling asleep on you.”

“Don’t be.” Marinette said. Kagami’s face went pink and Marinette suddenly became aware of just how intimate a position they were in. Kagami nestled on Marinette’s chest with their legs woven together and arms wrapped around one another.

“Marinette?” Kagami asked, “Are you doing anything today?”

“Not anything I couldn’t put off till tomorrow.” Marinette was hoping Kagami couldn’t feel how fast her heart was beating. “Why?”

“I was thinking that, if you wanted to, we could--”

“Sweet jeebs,” Aurore stretched awake, “Who let me fall asleep on the floor? My back is killing me.”

“Hey! Some of us were still trying to sleep!” Chloe snapped. “Whatever, everyone up. Let’s get some breakfast up in here.”

With a sigh Marinette and Kagami untangled themselves and ordered breakfast. Housekeeping came by to clean up their junk food mess from the night before while the girls ate breakfast. Marinette herself nibbled on some strawberries while most of the others slathered croissants and toasted baguettes in jams. Honestly, if they weren’t fresh from her parent’s bakery she couldn’t eat them. Having bakers for parents had spoiled her for store bought pastries.

“Kagami, you got a little jam right there.” Marinette pointed out a spot at the corner of her mouth.

Kagami wiped the opposite side. “Did I get it?”

“No. I got it,” Marinette grabbed a napkin and wiped the jam away, “There, all better.”

“Thanks.” Kagami smiled softly.

“Oh, what was it you were asking me earlier?” Marinette asked.

“Right,” Kagami shifted in her seat, “I was wondering that if you weren’t doing anything today if maybe you wanted to hang out. I know we spent all last night together but my mother let me have the entire weekend off so I was hoping we could go out. Just the two of us.”

“I’d like that. I’ll have to stop by my house to change and drop off my dress but after that I’m all yours.” No way was Marinette going to parade around the city with a case of slept in hairspray head. Not if she was going to be spending the entire time with Kagami.

“I need to stop at my house too. How about we meet at the park near your house around noon?”

“Sounds like a plan.”

After breakfast wrapped up the girls changed out of their pajamas and collected their outfits from the night before. Marinette raced back to her house so she had time to get a shower and pick a cute outfit. Trying to run while carrying a garment bag holding a huge ballgown wasn’t easy but she made it work.

She barely said hello to her parents before she was upstairs. She tossed the dress across her chaise and hopped in the shower to get rid of the post-party grime. When she was done she went immediately to her closet and rifled through what she had. She wanted to look cute but also casual. It was a shame it was too cold for sundresses now.

Wait! She had a sweater dress that would be perfect for a chilly autumn day on the town. She grabbed the comfy red dress and slid it on. To make sure she was warm throughout Marinette also put on some fleece lined black leggings and black boots. There. Casual and cute.

She grabbed her purse and went to go meet Kagami.

Why was she so nervous all of the sudden hanging out with Kagami? They were friends. They put aside their feelings for Adrien to get to this point. There was virtually nothing to worry about. If that were true though then why was her heart beating so fast when she thought of being alone with her? It felt like when Marinette got sat next to her on her first day at Lycee Carnot. Except it wasn’t out of awkward jealousy. It felt like a lot more was on the line.

Stop it, Marinette! She chided herself. You need to get out of your head. You are just hanging out with Kagami. You’ve done this a plenty of times before now.

“Marinette, over here!” Kagami waved from the fountain.

Marinette was stopped in her tracks when she saw Kagami waving. She looked so pretty! She had on a white turtleneck and dusty rose peacoat, blue jeans, and tan ankle booties.

Marinette didn’t even know Kagami owned anything pink. She was sure that she wasn’t a big pastel kinda girl. Regardless, it looked great on her.

“Hey,” Marinette found her tongue as she approached Kagami which was hard since upon closer inspection she could see Kagami had also done her make-up before coming out. Just some tinted lipgloss and mascara but now Marinette was kicking herself for only putting on eyeliner. She could have gotten away with some color on her lips at least!

“You look good,” Kagami said.

“Thanks. You look perfect.” Again Marinette wanted to bury her face in the neckhole of her sweater. What kind of a response was that?

“Thank you,” Kagami fidgeted with the buttons on her coat. “So, um, what did you want to do?”

“Whatever you want to do.”

“How about we take a walk and see if anything else comes to mind while we do.” Kagami suggested.

“Good. Yeah. Let’s do that.”

The girls left the park and started to walk around the city not talking about anything in particular. Mainly they reminisced funny moments from the party and sleepover last night. Kagami didn’t know it since she was the first to fall asleep but Marinette had kept the others from writing on her face afterwards. It was traditional sleepover antics but Marinette fought back the girls’ permanent marker attack.

“My hero,” Kagami laughed.

“All in a day’s work, madame.” Marinette gave a mock bow.

“Watch out!” Kagami pulled Marinette out of the way as a couple of kids on scooters rocketed past them. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” Marinette had been so caught up in her little bow she hadn’t noticed the scooterers. Kagami had pulled Marinette toward her to keep her from getting run over and had yet to let go. The proximity sent a ripple up of warmth up her spine. “Guess you were my hero this time.”

“We all have our moments.” Kagami let her go. Her gaze lost again to the ground. “That being said you should probably stick close. Don’t want you accidentally getting run over by a rogue biker next.”

“I think that would be for the best.” Marinette wasn’t going to miss an excuse to stay even closer to her.

They continued on their walk. Their hands kept bumping together as they walked before Marinette had enough and grabbed Kagami’s. When Kagami looked at her Marinette gave a tiny shrug. “I thought that if someone was going to try running me over you could pull me to safety easier this way.”

“Good idea.” Kagami relaxed a touch as she wove their fingers together.

A thought from last night dug its way back from Marinette’s memory and poked at her brain as if to say, ‘Hey! Remember me? Remember how beautiful you thought Kagami looked last night?’

Can you not do this right now? Marinette shot back at the voice in her head.

‘Afraid not!’ If voices in Marinette’s head had facial expressions she’d be a hundred percent sure it was smirking right now. ‘Remember how you thought her lips looked good enough to kiss? They still look pretty kissable now too, huh?’

Please stop. I’m just trying to have a nice day out with my friend.

‘You are really going to try and say she’s just a friend? You’re holding her hand. You can’t stop looking at her. You woke up this morning cuddled with her. This is not typical friend behaviour!’

Not necessarily…

‘You can’t procrastinate on this, Dupain-Cheng! You like Kagami! Admit it!’

Of course I like Kagami. She’s talented, passionate, smart, brave…

She’s also really cute and kind. She has a great sense of humor and always makes time for her friends even if it may be hard to do. When she was thinking she made little humming noises and had a habit of fidgeting and tapping her foot when she was anxious. She also always seemed to smell like green tea and fabric softener. It made Marinette want to curl up in her warm arms and take a nap.

Oh...oh no.

‘Finally figure it out? You big bi-disaster.’

We are not putting a definitive label on this right now but disaster-bi will suffice for this freak out. Do not panic, Marinette! You have a crush on Kagami. A realization that was thrown into the blinding light of day with warm morning snuggles. Keep calm. Do not let your freak out show on your face or else Kagami might start asking questions. Smile and continue walking.

They stayed out all day walking around the city and talking. They stopped for lunch at a little cafe and stopped in the used bookshop next door to see if they had any interesting titles. “You find anything?” Marinette found Kagami sitting on the floor in a little nook of the bookshop. A stainglassed window sent hazy sunbeams of yellow, orange and green around the cozy corner.

Kagami snapped her book shut when she saw Marinette sending dust dancing through the air. “Achoo!” Kagami sneezed.

“Oops, sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” Marinette sat down next to her. “What were you reading?”

“I think I know where Nanette’s moms got the name for their cafe.” Kagami handed her the small purple book. The gold lettering on the front read: Winking Violets by Nanette Sabot.

“And who they named Nanette after.” Marinette opened it. “What’s it about?”

“I had to look it up on my phone since it doesn’t have a description in the book. But apparently it is about these two women that grew up together as friends. One had to be taken far away to a warmer town during the winters because of her weak constitution but always promised her friend that she would return in time for the violets to bloom. So throughout the years the girls became closer and closer and their field of violets grew with them. Until--do you mind if I spoil it?”

“I don’t mind.” Marinette assured her. “I have a feeling I’m gonna end up sad.”

“Oh yeah,” Kagami sighed, “The day before the weak girl was supposed to return home after the winter a harsh frost covered their field of violets killing all the blooms in one day. The next morning the other girl received a letter telling her that her friend had died. Overcome with grief the girl wandered the now barren field until she found one small violet still clinging to life amongst the frost. She dug it up and carried it home where she kept it warm and watered. When it was strong enough the girl took the bloom and brought it to her friend’s grave where she planted it. That way her friend would never miss the violets blooming again.”

“That is so sad!”

“But still very sweet. It’s the kind of love you dream of having with someone.”

“I guess so,” It might have been the light playing tricks on her eyes but she could have sworn Kagami was blushing.

“So,” Marinette handed her the book back, “Are you gonna buy it?”

“I think I’ll regret it if I don’t.” Kagami looked back at Marinette. Her big brown eyes sparkling in the light. “Amongst other things.”

“Meaning?”

“I am not an indecisive person.”

“I know.”

“Which is why the fact that I’m hesitating right now is very unlike me.”

“I thought you just said you were gonna get the book.”

“Oh Marinette,” Kagami cupped Marinette’s face in her hands, “You silly scatterbrain. I’m not talking about buying the book.”

Her hands were so warm and her face was so close. What was happening? Scatterbrained was right. Marinette couldn’t keep two thoughts together right now.

“Oh?” Marinette finally murmured. Truly a stimulating and literate response.

Kagami giggled which sent another wave of butterflies loose in Marinette’s stomach. “I know this might seem sudden and I might be making a huge fool of myself but I need to say this. I really like you. Not just as a friend. Is that okay?”

“Mhm!” Marinette nodded. “Very okay?”

“You’re sure? I know you tend to overthink things--”

“All I’ve thought about doing since yesterday is kissing you.” Marinette confessed in a rush of words.

Kagami stared back at her wide eyed. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have just blurted that out like I did. It’s just that you’re really pretty today, you’re really pretty everyday, but today even more so. You looked gorgeous last night too. I like being around you and find myself looking for more and more excuses to be next to you. You’re one of the most amazing people I’ve ever met and I would gladly do most anything to make you smile cause I love seeing you happy. Now I’m scared that the second I stop talking you’re gonna freak out and walk away and I--”

Kagami silenced her with a quick kiss.

“I really wanted to kiss you too.” Kagami said.

Marinette could only smile before she went in for another kiss. This one longer and sweeter than the first. She could taste the faint sweetness of the creampuff they had ordered at the cafe on her lips.

“I guess this means neither of us have to worry about competing over Adrien anymore.” Marinette chuckled. Her forehead resting against Kagami’s.

“I’d say so.” Kagami laughed too.

“Ahem,” the bookshop owner peeked their head around the corner, “You girls find what you were looking for?”

“Yes,” Kagami and Marinette stood up, hands holding tightly to one another, “I think we have.”

---

Transferred:

(1) (2) (3) (4) (5) (6) (7) (8) (9) (10) (11) (12) (13) (14) (15)

---

@ladylb @immatureidiot101 @lady-flora-of-slytherin @shamefullove @zazzlejazzle @heredemaquam @kristycocopops @schrodingers25 @sublimemagazinestarlight @crazylittlemunchkin @daydream-wannabewriter @trainflavor @never-neverland @mochinek0 @persephonebutkore

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #kagami tsurugi #marigami #kagaminette #transfer au #writing #they are just so cute #fluff fluff fluff!

[toothsy]

Hello could u do some headcanons for katsuki shoto and kiri with a S/O that has PTSD also I love your writing your the best💝💝💝💖💖💓💞💞💕

A/N: Okay, I really hope I got this right. If you want me to change anything, just tell me love <3 Thank you for requesting me !

Warnings : Angst | Mentions of rape | Cursing | Mentions of violence

Keys : Y/n - Your Name |

——————————

|| Katsuki Bakugo

• A gasp echoed in their room, they suddenly sit on their bed, soaking and panicking, they had a nightmare, but not a simple nightmare like kids do. No. It was a nightmare about their past.

• Tears were falling on their cheeks, they couldn’t breath. They were having a panic attack, this time, it was way more worse then usual.

• Normally, they would calm down after crying and panicking for a few minutes, but this time, they felt like they just couldn’t get through this alone.

• Y/n tried to get on their feet, but they immediately fell to the floor, making a lot of loud noises. They didn’t have a good day so they went to sleep way more early then the others, so they probably heard it, but they didn’t care at the moment.

• Nothing mattered right now, they had to get out. They tried again, going on their feet but they fell once again. They started sobbing.

• The panic was so huge, they didn’t hear the knocks on the door. '' Oi, the fuck you’re doing you idiot ? You’re doing so much noises that you’re worrying the extras. ''

• The blond waited outside of their door, waiting for an answer, but it never came. He knocked again. '' Hey, answer me, dumbass... '' his tone seemed like he started to be concerned.

• His eyes widened when he heard sobbing in the room and he opened the door wide without any warnings.

• '' Y/n ?... '' They were on the floor, their eyes were red and puffy from all the crying, their hand was on their chest, they also seemed like they couldn’t breath at all.

• Everything clicked in Katsuki’s head: they were having a panic attack.

• He closed the door behind him and ran to them, worried sick. '' O-Oi, what’s wrong-'' ''Don’t touch me ! '' The blond instantly stopped midway, retracting his hands.

• ''P-Please... d-don’t touch.. don’t touch me.. '' they said shakily. He gulped. What was he supposed to do ?

• ''Please... don’t hurt me.. '' Katsuki clenched his teeth. He didn’t know what was happening and didn’t know what to do, but refused to leave them. Not in this state.

• ''Y/n, I won’t hurt you... but you have to tell me what’s wrong. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me... '' They were silent. Still shaking, the only sound that he was hearing was them hyperventilating.

• He eventually got closer, really slowly. He was shaking too. He didn’t like seeing them like this. He wanted them to feel better.

• They looked at him and say ''Katsuki... I-... I’m so scared... '' He clenched his jaw more, he was worried, more then worried, he was scared actually.

• He opened his arms and they immediately ran into them. He embraced them and put his head in the crook of their neck. They hugged back too, eventually and put their head on his shoulder.

• He pats their back slowly, trying to make them relax and after a few minutes, it worked. Their breath was still shaky, but less then before and they were less tense in his arms.

• ''Katsuki... '' they tell him everything. Their past, what he done to them. How he touched them, how disgusting they felt after. Katsuki was looking at them. He tried to keep his composure, but it was hard. He really wanted to punch that fucker for what he did.

• ''I know I can’t erase the past, I can’t erase or come back in time to stop him, but I can promise you that he’ll never, EVER, put a finger on you again. I’ll be here to protect you. ''

• '' And I can tell that it’s hard for you to handle... but you’re stronger, now. You’re beautiful and you don’t deserve anything of this. You deserve happiness. Now, I want you to call me when you feel like you need help. Alright ? ''

• Y/n was speechless, they never saw this side of him with anyone else. Only with them. They blinked away the tears and nodded slowly. Bakugo smiled softly and sighed in relief.

• '' Good. Now, let’s dry those tears and tell the extras downstairs that you’re fine now. ''

————

|| Shoto Todoroki

• They were sobbing quietly again. The roof was the only place they could go in moments like this, no one was there when it was lunch so they could finally cry alone.

• Well, there was some people but no one really paid attention to her, they were minding their own business, but Y/n didn’t care. They needed space and the roof was the only place that was calm enough for this.

• They looked at the food on the floor, not really in a good mood to touch it. Their dad is why they’re crying, you see. He was violent with them, mistreated them.

• Y/n didn’t want to talk about it to anyone, though, because she was scared to be judged for this. It was maybe dumb, but that’s true.

• Them, going on the roof when they felt like crying and having panic attacks was not new for them. They did it a lot, their classmates were also asking her questions about it.

• Like Midoriya, Uraraka, Tsuyu, Kirishima... they would ask why they were not eating with them, if they were okay, which they were always answering with a big grin. Well, at least, tried to fake a big grin.

• Every time people were talking about their family, fathers more specifically and they were asking Y/n about their dad, they would always try to ignore the subject and run away.

• They thought that it was enough for them to leave them alone, but it actually worried a particular dual-haired boy.

• This time, they couldn’t calm down. Y/n doesn’t know why, it just doesn’t work. They really tried anything but they were still crying.

• ''L/n-San ? '' a voice asked. Y/n jumped and when they looked up their orbs met with heterochromia eyes.

• '' T-Todoroki-kun ?... '' They wiped their tears away and looked at him. '' W-What are you doing here ?... '' Y/n asked.

• He knew something was wrong. Were they always going here for the same reason ? To cry and let it out ? He was worried, he has to admit. He cared deeply for them and seeing them hurt was making him feeling... guilty ? Hurt too ?

• '' You always came here by your own and I wanted to be sure you were alright. ''

• ‘ Was he.... worried ?’ They thought. They looked at the ground, letting out a small ‘Oh.’ They didn’t see it, but for a moment, instead of his normal expression where he doesn’t show any emotion, he actually had a look of concern on his face.

• ''L/n-san... '' They looked up again, slowly and hesitating this time. ''I apologies to intrude into your life like this... but, is everything alright ? '' The bi-haired boy was not really good with comforting someone, but for them, he would do anything.

• They looked at the ground once again. A few seconds passed, that seemed like hours, it was completely silent, until a sob broke it. Todoroki’s eyes widened slightly. They shake their head and whispered a ‘N-o’.

• He calmly get closer to them and sit in front of their plate. His eyes were caring, were soft and were telling you that he was ready to listen.

• Y/n eventually explained everything. About their dad, about what he did, how violent he become when he drinks. Shoto is naturally a calm guy and was good at hiding his emotion, but this time, it was more harder then usual to hide the rage and the sadness he felt.

• The rage for what their dad did and the sadness because, the person that he cared the most, was living the same hell as him. He knows how it feels and it hurts him. He would do everything to make them happy and seeing them so lost, so sad, is hurting him.

• They got closer to him and Todoroki gave them a big hug, their face was hiding on his chest while he was stroking their hair.

• He sighed. '' I’m here for you. And I understand you. It does hurt, but I know that you can get through this. You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You’re smiling even when everything seems impossible to solve, because you’re strong and you believe in your comrades. You also, never gives up no matter what. ''

• ''And I promise, that he will never hurt you again, not as long as I’m here. You’re safe here. ''

• Their tense form slowly calmed down while he was talking, which was making him relieved. They were less shaky, not sobbing anymore, just sniffing. They get away from his chest and looked into his eyes.

• He cared. He was worried and here he was now, helping them. He sighed in relief and looked at their plate. ''How long haven’t you ate a proper dinner, Y/n-san ? ''

• She sighed and shrugged. He nodded slightly and took the two chopsticks, taking something in their plate and then put it in front of their mouth, which they gladly accepted and opened the mouth to eat it. He smiled.

• ''Thank you... Shoto. ''

——————

|| Eijiro Kirishima

• '' Y/N-SAN ! '' Cried out the red haired male. He hardened his hand and punched the guy that was behind his s/o. They were crying, yelling the villain to stop. That’s what happened before they passed out.

• The League Of Villains attacked again, with more bad guys to destroy. They separated the class and L/n was with Kirishima. They were fighting until the red head heard his comrade yelling, like someone just died and crying out loud. Once he turned around, the last villain was taking them by their waist and they eventually freaked out.

• So here he was, waiting for his s/o to wake up again, next of the hospital bed after Recovery Girl patched her up. What happened ? What did the villain do to make them freak out so much like this ? Eijiro couldn’t handle it, he has to know, otherwise he would feel bad.

• Y/n wasn’t the type to freak out easily. The male actually was inspired by the fact that they were always keeping their calm in every kind of situation, well, almost every kind.

• He was worried. He knew that Y/n didn’t like to be touch, he never knew why, he just guessed that they were just not a touchy type, which he understood. Maybe that’s why they freaked out ? Because the villain touched them ?

• He also noticed the way they look when a guy was really close to them. For exemple, they were once holding Mineta to protect him and he puts his hand on their chest, they looked scared and threw him immediately on the ground.

• He couldn’t try to guess farther, because they were now waking up. Their eyes slowly opened. Growling a curse, they sad on the bed and scratched the behind of their neck. They looked around the room until their eyes met with the red ones.

• '' K-Kirishima ?... '' They asked softly. He smiled softly to them. '' Hey. How are you feeling ? '' They sigh and shrugged. ''What happened ? ''

• '' The league was attacking us, we were fine until a villain suddenly went behind you and you started yelling and freaking out... you passed out. ''

• Their mouth was slightly open, forming a ‘o’, then they closed it again. '' We won ? '' They asked, which he nodded. They sighed in relief with a small smile. Kirishima then looked at them with a concerned look.

• '' Y/n-san...? '' They hummed, telling they were listening. ''Wh-What happened with... the villain ? ''

• They sighed, looking at the corner of the room. '' He... He touched me, I-... I just don’t like when someone touch me, that’s all. '' Kirishima looked sad a little bit. He was wishing for more details, but he guessed he will have to find out himself.

• A few seconds passed, it was silent. ''I know it’s none of my business... but why ? ''

• It was silent, no one talked.

• Until Kirishima heard Y/n sobbin. His eyes would widened and they eventually vented to him. Telling everything that this asshole did to them.

• Kirishima was angry, not at them, but at the person that did this. Everything clicked in his head. He was worried for them, he quickly take them and put their head on his chest.

• After a few minutes, they calmed down. Kirishima looked at their face and took away the tears with his thumb.

• '' Y/n, I promise that I’ll never, ever let anyone hurt you again. I’m here for you, I care and I’ll never let you down. '' He looked down a little.

• '' If I learned something through the years... is that maybe I can’t change the past... but I still can change my future, and it’s the same for you, Y/n ! '' He had tears in the coiner of his eyes.

• They states at him and smiled.

• ''Thank you, Kirishima... ''

#bnha x reader #bnha x y/n #boku no hero academia #boku no hero fanfic #boku no hero x reader #mha fanfiction #mha imagines #mha x reader #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #kirishima imagine #mha kirishima #bnha kirishima #eijirou kirishima #kirishima x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki imagine #mha kacchan #katsuki bnha #my hero todoroki #todoroki x you #mha todoroki