#and yeah. was really cold :) my dad was real cross with me when he found me shivering in the shed LOL

[todayisafridaynight]

brother was talking to me about how if you almost die from an extreme-temperature-related incident then your body is just forever fucked towards that temperature and that's why i think kiryu and saejima are weak to ice. i dont know why aoki isn't like that too but ignore that statistic everything else tracks.

#snap chats #i already made this post highkey but im making it again cause i didnt know this was an actual real thing ☠️ #my brother learned this when he started to work for target. because apparently that's a thing they tell you frame one #'snap how did this topic even come up' i am LITERALLY so glad you asked :) the cold has almost claimed me twice #am i exaggerating Maybe but its my fucked up body temperature now listen #when i was younger i got locked out of my house for like. three hours since i was a latchkey kid #and my dad wasn't supposed to come home with my siblings (from their after school events) for Three Hours #and it had snowed outside and Was Cold Yeah and i couldn't get in cause i forgot my key like a weiner #and yeah. was really cold :) my dad was real cross with me when he found me shivering in the shed LOL #he made me hot cocoa tho so its ok. second incident's just funny No I Talk About It Evvery Other Week #and im p sure i talked bout the first incident too but yeah that time after the con when i was at my sister's #like i cannot stress how cold it was because It Was Late November and the cold still existed #and my sister's heater just. Didnt Work but yeah. i wont go into detail cause i share this story every five seconds #POINT IS i've always had a hard time with the cold- like i'm cold nearly all the time even if the room is 90 degrees #i wont be COLD cold but i'll be colder than i like #anyways can't believe i'm weak to ice this is so sad. i love winter.. #aoki isn't weak to ice cause uhhhh /aoki/ didnt almost die in the cold 🥴 masato did 🥴 #imagine changing your identity so well that you just remove your past elemental weakness. fucked up. #alright bye

[d10nyx]

sneaking out of heaven pt.2

ft. leon kennedy x fem!reader

part one, part two

cw: parental abuse, religious themes, slight guilt, some fluff n some mean dad stuff :(( leon's a sweetheart, tho <3

a/n: omg a sfw drop from me that's... crazy... um... i'm not sure fluff is my strong suit ngl... was trying something new w this series but uh... yeah there's a reason i'm a smut writer i think lol... smut next chap tho maybe depends on if i make this three or four parts!!

word count: 1.4k words

You've always hated Sundays. It's not God's fault. It wasn't the praying or devotion. It all came from one thing, and one thing alone - your father. The wooden pews made your back ache, and your thighs go numb, but he'd never let you miss a day. Broken limb, head cold… it didn't matter. Appearances were everything, so unless you were dead, you had to be there, and you had to be working hard to make the family look good.

You've never felt like you belonged in the Church, not really. Being the Pastor's daughter meant you were constantly under a watchful eye. Everyone knew your every move, and you couldn't afford to mess up. Your mistakes reflected poorly on your father, and your father didn't take kindly to being made to look a fool.

You haven't really felt like you belonged anywhere, not even in your own home.

But you found somewhere to belong now. You feel like you can fully relax and be yourself when you're with Leon. Growing up, you'd always been alone… but now? You spent more time in Leon's bedroom than you spent in your own house.

That's where you find yourself now, sitting cross-legged on his bed as you struggle to figure out how to work an Xbox. He's doing his best to teach you, trying not to laugh at the confusion gracing your features.

“Come on, princess. You can't be serious.” He says with a laugh as you send the camera spinning midway through another gunfight in COD. “Dude - just… just nudge the right stick. If you hold it, of course it's gonna do that.”

“I'm just… ugh, I don't get how you play this.” You huff, your head thumping lightly against the wall as you let it drop backwards. You don't realise Leon is moving until you can feel his warmth, his breath brushing your ear as he leans in.

“Look, lemme help you. I'll aim, and you shoot. Easy.” He whispers in your ear, tilting his head and resting his chin on your shoulder. His hand rests over one of yours on the controller, his thumb guiding the right stick.

You're not even paying attention to the screen anymore - you just hold down the right trigger and hope for the best as your eyes are locked onto Leon's pretty blue ones.

“See, princess? Your first kill.” He says with a grin, and you quickly snap out of your little staring session, your breaths coming out a little heavier than usual.

“Oh… oh, yeah! Cool, um… thank you.” You manage to force out, trying to calm the rapid beating of your heart.

“What's got you all flustered, huh?” He says with a teasing grin - why is he still so close to you? His hand reaches out to touch your cheek and tilt your head gently to face him when you attempt to look away, his thumb brushing your cheekbone lightly. “Is it me?”

You let out a short, nervous laugh, your eyes flickering to the side for a moment. All you can focus on is the heat of his palm, the way his calluses feel against your smooth skin. “You? No, come on. Don't be ridiculous.”

He blinks a few times as he looks at you, and then his grin widens. His eyes practically sparkle with excitement, his gaze flicking over your features. “Aww, it totally is me!”

You open your mouth to deny it, but then he's brushing his lips against your cheek, and you're sure your heart is about to burst. Looks like you'd be meeting God a lot earlier than you thought. Always thought dad would be the one to send you to Heaven.

“You're real pretty, you know that?” He breathes out, then he's leaning forward to kiss you. It's just a peck, but a whine builds up in your throat as he tries to pull away from you. Your lips chase his, and he's laughing again before he leans down to give you another kiss.

Your lips are clumsy as they move with his. Inexperienced. It's not your first kiss(only because the peck was), but your inexperience is clear. Your hands twitch, wanting to explore his body, but you're too scared to touch him. Too much, too fast.

So you settle for kissing him, but you are 90% sure you're about to go into cardiac arrest when his tongue brushes your lower lip. It feels dirty. Brings the same feelings of guilt to the surface that touching yourself does, and the same kind of feeling, too, because slick is building up in your panties, making them stick to your pussy.

Not that you have the courage to do anything about that though. You just shift awkwardly, uncrossing your legs and squeezing your thighs together as his hands slip down to your waist, tugging your body closer to his. His tongue brushes yours, and you try to meet it halfway, only to be a little too eager.

“Feels like you're trying to eat me.” He says with a chuckle as he pulls away, pressing his lips to your jawline. “Slower. A little less tongue. Otherwise, you're doing great.”

His lips are on you again a second later, and his tongue makes another appearance. You try to follow his instructions, your hands finally finding the strength to reach out and touch his arms. Wow. You didn't realise muscles like that were real. He's hard to the touch, making you shudder. Your hands wrap around his biceps almost curiously as you kiss him.

You lose track of time as you make out with him. Neither of you seem to want to pull away, and it's only the sound of his mom's footsteps coming up the stairs that has you both hastily scrambling to the opposite sides of his bed - especially considering she makes him leave his door open when you're there.

She offers to let you stay for dinner, and you really can't refuse. Not if it means more time with her son.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

When you come home from the Kennedy's house, the kitchen light is on. But it's past 6pm, so the light shouldn't be on. You've always had dinner at the same time every night for your entire life. You feel a sense of unease as you attempt to sneak past the doorway.

“Where do you think you're going?” A harsh voice calls out. Your father. You turn to walk into the kitchen, your head hanging in shame. A strong grip settles on your jaw, fingers digging in hard enough to hurt, but not enough to bruise.

He's smarter than marking you where it's visible.

“Where have you been?” He growls, dragging your face up to meet his eyes. Your mom is upstairs. You know she's awake, because you heard the creaky floorboard in her bedroom as you shut the front door. You also know she won't come downstairs, because she likes to pretend your dad is nice to you.

“The Kennedy's, sir. I didn't mean to come home so late, I… Mrs. Kennedy offered me dinner, and I just… I didn't think it would hurt. I'm sorry. It won't happen again.”

“Yeah, you're damn right, it won't. Don't you think you're a bit close to that boy?”

Your mind goes to the kiss, and you quickly avert eye contact. “Who? Leon? We're just friends, sir… I…”

“I don't believe that for a second.” He interrupts, his grip dropping from your jaw before he smacks you hard across the face, sending your head jolting to the side as tears spring to your eyes. “Proverbs 19:9.”

You swallow the lump in your throat, speaking up with a shaky voice. “A false witness will not go unpunished, and whoever pours out lies will perish.”

“Good. The boy hasn't knocked all sense out of you. Go to your room. I'm dealing with you tomorrow.”

A sinking feeling settles in your chest at his threat, and you slowly climb the steps that lead to your room. You don't even bother changing out of your clothes before flopping into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin.

Your cheek still stings, and you take a few deep breaths to stop yourself from crying. Your father hadn't stopped you from seeing Leon again, but it seemed he wasn't far from it. You'd have to tread carefully. You could sense another one of your father's blow ups building, and you didn't want to be on the receiving end.

Despite everything, as Leon's kiss comes to mind, your lips tug up into a small smile.

#leon s kennedy #leon s kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon s kennedy x you

[sibillascribbles08]

Okay last bit of this. For a resolution, sort of.

Jason knew there’d be a chance his father wouldn’t be home at this hour, but it hardly mattered. He knew where the spare key was. Still, he rang the doorbell first and crossed his arms. He shouldn’t have stormed out without his jacket. It was just cold enough to bother him. 

A few beats later and the door opened. His father stood there in his usual loungewear and a way too full glass of wine.

Jason stared at it. “You’re drinking way too much of that lately.” 

His dad scoffed. “I do not, it’s chill night.” 

“Is that Jase?” Manny called from the living room. “Hi Jase.”

“Hi Manny,” he called back, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice.

And his father, ever observant of his moods, noticed. “Everything okay? I’m already going to guess not since you showed up without making plans first.”

Jason sighed and avoided his gaze. “Donnie and I had a fight.” 

“Oh lord what did he do this time?” Mr. Song shook his head and gestured him inside. “Come on, Manny and I were just watching Drag Race re-runs.”

Jason stepped through the door and raised an eyebrow. “Angie’s not here?”

“Working.” Manny could be seen on the sofa now, taking up half of it. “She’s got a few more hours.” 

“Why?” His father asked and took back his spot on the sofa. He used his knee to nudge Manny’s legs off the cushions. “Want all the parents here for the gossip?” 

“No, just curious.” Jason flopped down on the empty space between them. The TV was paused at this point, on a still image of a drag queen. 

“Come on.” Mr. Song tapped him on the head. “What’s going on?” 

“Not going to lie, this one is going to sound absolutely crazy for a bit.” 

Manny snorted. “I feel like it always is when it comes to your turtle.” 

Jason glanced at him. “Oh yeah? Then let’s try years ago before Donnie and I really became friends, he got visited by his future self and found out early on that we got married.” 

Both his father and his step-father stared at him in silence.

So he continued. “And he also discovered that in that future I died during a fight, which also occurred today, and he didn’t bother to tell me any of this until just now.” 

“Well, that does sound like a bit of a loaded secret.” Manny muttered.

“Wait, wait, hang on. You almost died during a fight today?” Jae-won gave him a light shake.

“I’m fine, Dad. Promise.” Jason looked at him. “Donnie’s siblings, who also knew about this by the way, made sure of that.” 

“Okay so, hang on,” Manny said. “What part of this exactly caused the fight? Just him keeping a secret?” 

“I’m still wrapping my head around the fact that you almost died.” Jae-won insisted. 

Jason ignored his father for the time being. “It’s not just the whole secret it’s like… He knew we apparently got together in the future. And then he decides to reach out to me. What for? Because his future self did, he thinks it should be an easy time winning himself a husband? Like oh, I marry that guy? Let me shoot him a text and get the ball rolling. He’s only with me because that’s what fate decided, I guess.”

There was a pause. Manny gave him a wide eyed stare and by the time Jason turned to see what his father’s reaction was, he got smacked on the back of the head.

He covered the spot with his hand. “Ow! Dad!”

“Jason Hamato Song.” His father spat. “You know I’m usually in your corner for these couple spats but you’re being completely and utterly ridiculous.” 

He glared back. “I am not! The only reason he texted me back then is because he knew the future.” 

“So what? The only reason Manny helped me when we met is because I was making a pathetic fool of myself. It doesn’t make our current relationship any less real.”

Jason opened his mouth, but suddenly struggled to find his argument.

His father continued. “Maybe that is the only reason he texted you the first time, but if he really didn’t like talking to you, or being with you, he could have turned away at any moment. I have seen you two together, multiple times! I see how he looks at you. I see how much thought he puts into gifts and surprises. He wouldn’t do any of that if he didn’t love you.” 

Jason felt himself shrinking under his father’s lecturing tone. 

“Be honest with me and yourself, Jase. Stop letting your chemically unbalanced brain take control.” His father relaxed against the couch. “What about this is actually upsetting you? Before your brain decides to drag it into a doom spiral.” 

He dug his fingers into his knees as he thought about it. Because his father was right. Knowing the future or not, Donnie wouldn’t have stayed with him this long if he didn’t actually care about him. It’s almost like when someone insists some new device will change your life, but then you get hold of it and find out how basic it is. It’s so easy to just give it away or toss it all together.

But still…

“It just sucks.” He curled up. “Back when he first reached out to me, and wanted to talk to me I thought… I don’t know. I thought something about me must have caught his interest, at least enough to be friends. Like maybe I wasn’t as forgettable as I thought. And now I find out the only reason he did is because he learned about the future. It had nothing to do with me.” 

Jae-won frowned and put a hand on Jase’s back, gently rubbing it up and down. “Yeah, that does suck. But that doesn’t change the fact that he fell in love with you anyway, regardless of how it started.”

Jason hung his head by this point. “I know.” He muttered. “I… blew this way out of proportion, didn’t I?” 

His father laughed and patted his back. “Hey, not the first time. Take the rest of the night to cool off and go talk to him in the morning, okay?” 

“Yeah. Besides, if I don’t go back in the morning Holly might freak.” 

“Yup, gotta think about the little one too. Come on then, do you want a drink? Change the channel?” 

Jason flopped back against the sofa. “Nah, you can leave this on. And maybe one glass wouldn’t hurt.” He made a face when Manny ruffled his hair, but didn’t complain. 

His father got up. “Alright, one glass coming up then.”

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

When Jason returned to the apartment the next morning, he was greeted by intense dubstep playing out of the TV. He glanced at the screen and then into the kitchen where he saw Donnie darting around, wearing the hand painted apron that Mikey gifted him when they moved here. 

“Baking soda, baking soda,” Donnie’s mutterings could barely be heard over the music. “Augh, where did we put that?”

Jason went over to the coffee table to grab the remote and cut the music off.

That got Donnie’s attention immediately. The turtle spun around, looking through the door and right to where Jase stood. His eyes went wide and his entire body straightened up. 

“O-oh, you’re already home.”

Jason walked toward him. “I’m kind of late, to be honest. I take it Holly’s already at school?”

“Ah, yes, though she didn’t want to go.” Donnie fiddled with his own fingers and glanced back at the stand mixer on the counter. “I was just—”

“Ginger snaps?” Jase tilted his head.

“Right! As part of the apology.” He folded his hands together and ducked his head. “Jase, I’m sorry. I should have told you a long time ago about—”

Jason held out a hand, indicating for him to stop. “Don’t.” 

His husband clenched his hands together and looked down again.

He spoke up again before Donnie’s guilt ate him alive. “Donnie, I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” The turtle straightened up again. “Jase, you don’t have to—”

He held his hand up even higher. “Yes, I do. Even if I have the right to be mad about you keeping secrets, I shouldn’t have been talking like you never cared about me. I know that isn’t true.” He lowered his hand and sighed. “I just considered that all the reasons I thought you reached out to me that first time turned out to be false, and then my brain took that and made me think the rest of it must be fake too.”

“It’s not.” Donnie reached toward him but stopped, tucking his hands close to his chest again. “I learned about the future and reached out because I was just… curious. I saw the way my future self talked about you, like he was over the moon, even after he lost you. And I really wanted to know what it felt like to have that so I figured… why not try it?”

The softshell then laughed and smiled. “It literally only took me a few weeks to find out.” 

Jason’s heart skipped a beat. Funny how over a decade of marriage and Donnie was still capable of making it do that. “Huh?”

Donnie rubbed the back of his neck and then fiddled with the tails of his bandana. “It’s, you know, we started talking and hanging out and talking more. You were showing me your transformer models and tech schematics and your god awful fashion choices—”

Jason shot him a glare. “Hey.” 

His husband just laughed again, smile widening. “And within those few weeks it started clicking. Like oh, this is why my future self fell in love with him.” 

He struggled to pretend he wasn’t embarrassed, though no doubt his blush would give him away like it always did. “That’s why you were an idiot and trusted me so quickly back then, wasn’t it.”

“Yeah, that was part of it, but it still worked out, didn’t it?” Donnie leaned toward him as his smile melted into a smirk. 

Jason rolled his eyes. “It was ages ago, Donnie, quit gloating about it.” 

“How can I? I’ll never forget that night I asked you out.” He poked Jase’s cheek. “You were a stuttering mess.” 

Jason slapped his hand away. “Watch it. You’re still treading water for lying to me.” 

The turtle just hummed. “I still can’t decide what I like more. When you’re shy and embarrassed or serious and commanding.” 

Alright, this was getting to be way too much. Jason reached out and grabbed his husband’s chin. “What, you want commanding?” He pointed to the recliner. “Then sit down for a minute.” 

Donnie blinked, obviously taken aback by the response, but he did as he was asked. 

The moment his husband dropped into the chair, Jase practically slid onto his lap and tugged him into a kiss. 

Donnie wrapped his arms around him and tugged him closer. “Hmm, now this is an order I can get behind.”

“God,” Jase mumbled between kisses. “Can you shut up for ten seconds?”

“Make me.” 

He pulled away for a moment. “Treading water, Donnie.” 

“You’re the one kissing me. You could have just banished me back to the kitchen to finish your delicious apology cookies.” 

“Donnie.” Jason slid a hand around the back of the turtle’s neck and up so he could jerk on his bandanna tails. “Shut up.” 

“Y-yes sir.” 

Jason kissed him again, and again, and again. Maybe he’d keep doing it until that shitty part of his brain that was still trying to twist Donnie’s intentions finally shut down. His husband loved him, loved every part of him. It didn’t matter how it started, what mattered is where they were now. 

“You know,” Donnie began. 

Jason tightened his grip on the bandanna again. 

The turtle smirked and continued. “We do have the apartment to ourselves right now.” 

Jason hummed. He let go of the bandanna and moved his hand to Donnie’s chest where he steadily walked his fingers down to the hem of the apron. 

He gave it one gentle tug and then—

“Nah.” Jason climbed off the chair. “I want my cookies first, actually.” 

Donnie stood. “Oh, you bastard.”

“Bitch.”

“Asshole.”

“Lying jerk.” 

“Massive tease.” 

“Atomic Lass fan.”

Donnie gasped at him. “Don’t you dare say that like an insult.”

Jason just stuck out his tongue. “Treading water. Where’s my apology cookies? I think I’d like to munch on some while I lounge in the bath.” 

The turtle groaned, tilting his head back as he did, but he stomped back to the kitchen. “You are so lucky I love you.”

Jason smirked and crossed his arms. “You’re lucky that I love you.” 

“Damn right I am.” Donnie shouted and resumed his search for the baking soda.

Should Jase tell him that he left it in the bathroom to clean something out of the sink?

Nah, let him run around for a bit. 

It’d be funny.

#scribbly fics #rottmnt #jasonnie #early morning posting this time

[blvckqwz]

Lies

Isabelle was mad at Carl.

Because he cared. But she didn’t, at least not anymore. And it annoyed her that someone cared. Her dad didn’t care, he never did. Her uncle cared a bit, but he cared more about other things. Her mom once cared, but now couldn’t anymore, because she wasn’t even there to witness her daughter crumbling apart.

And Isabelle didn’t care anymore, because caring meant eventually losing, and she was tired of that. She couldn’t afford to care, because it means following her heart, and her heart always brought her to the worst places ever. 

Last time it was a slaughterhouse run by cannibals, what will it be next time? She decided that she wasn’t willing to find out. 

“Hey, earlier you were watching us?” She could hear Rick ask the priest as she got closer to the rest of the group. 

Rick was just like a cop, probably because he was before the outbreak. Isabelle wondered why her dad was friends with a cop, if cops were bad and Rick was a cop. Things have changed, she thought. 

Carl was nice but he was the son of a cop. But now it was okay for them to be friends, because real cops didn’t exist anymore. He didn’t act like a cop anyway. 

“I keep to myself.” Gabriel replied, “Nowadays people are just as dangerous as the dead, don’t you think?” No, they are worse, Isabelle wanted to say, but Rick beat her to it. She could see the priest's expression falter a bit, and she wondered if maybe it was really a trap. 

“Well I wasn’t watching you.” He then assured them, “I haven't been beyond the stream near my church more than a few times since it all started. That was the furthest I've gone before today.” He explained.

Then a sinister light reflected in his eyes, “Or maybe I'm lying. Maybe I'm lying about everything and there's no church ahead at all. Maybe I'm leading you into a trap so I can steal all your squirrels.” He spoke and Isabelle felt panicked. 

Crap, she knew it. You can’t even trust priests now. 

A tense silence fell, and the girl started to grip to her hatchet tighter, just like everyone else did with their weapon. Her gaze fell on her dad, his jaw clenched as he shot a dirty look at the priest. His eyes were vigilant, focussed on the threat. Isabelle almost found him scary.

“Members of my flock had often told me that my sense of humor leaves much to be desired.” Gabriel said with an awkward smile, and Isabelle realized that he was just trying to make a joke.

“Yeah I wonder why.” She spat before she could even realize, suddenly feeling aware that no one knew she was there the whole time. She could have been torn apart and eaten by walkers, but no one would know if she just managed to stay quiet.

But the result would be the same. She would be dead.

Her father must have also just become aware of his daughter's presence, because when she looked up to him his eyes were already fixed on her, the usual scowl on his face. Isabelle just rolled her eyes before shifting her weight from one foot to another and crossing her arms.

Gabriel didn’t say any more stupid shit, and for that Isabelle was glad. She was still angry and her head still hurt, but at least now they were walking in silence.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Turns out that the church did really exist, even if it was old and creepy looking. It didn’t look like the house of God, if Isabelle had to be honest it looked more like one of those haunted houses that rich folks set up on halloween. But she couldn’t really be sure because she had never seen one.

The paint was chipping off the worn walls, giving the building a shabby look. The roof was rusty, with dark orange spots all over it. It was ugly, but Isabelle couldn’t really complain, because she would rather sleep in an ugly building rather than in the cold woods, without knowing what lurked in the dark around her. It wasn’t like the places she had stayed before were much more fancy than a dusty church.

She felt a presence near her, and she hoped that it was Carl. But she knew only one person who was able to sneak up on her without making any noise, and that wasn’t Carl. 

“You tired?” Her father asked from behind her, his voice low. Isabelle had to bite her tongue to refrain from saying mean things. 

Like you care.

She just shrugged, looking down at her shoes. She didn’t know what was getting over her, she just knew that she wasn’t afraid of him and his wrath like she used to be when she was a little kid. Because Isabelle had seen worse, she had done worse, than a few slaps and some yells. 

So she was feeling brave, which meant that it was her turn now to be an asshole. Isabelle doubted that he would beat her up in front of all those people, but you never know, so she stayed quiet.

She could feel his gaze on the back of her head, but she didn’t turn around to meet his eyes. She just stood there like an idiot, waiting for his next move.

Daryl sighed, and even if she wasn’t looking at him she knew that he was probably wiping his hand on his face like he always did when he was mad. She hoped he wasn’t that mad, because she wasn’t that brave.

“Listen…” He began, but a shout from ahead of them cut him off before he could even begin to ramble. The man looked up to Rick who was calling for him, saying something about clearing the church. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Like Isabelle gave half a fuck about the church. If the creepy priest wanted their squirrels then let it be. She knew that it was stupid thing to think, because the man could do much worse than taking their squirrels, but she couldn’t bring herself to really care. 

“We’ll talk later.” Her father grumbled before walking past her towards the church. Isabelle didn’t reply, her eyes still fixed on her shoes. “Stay with Carl.” He added as he turned around to look at her. She didn’t look up. He dropped his shoulders, sighed again and then entered the church.

Isabelle looked at him just soon enough to see his figure disappearing behind the wooden door. She felt a little bad for not talking to him, but she knew that he never did when he ignored her for all those years. 

It was confusing, and she didn’t have time for confusing things. 

She walked towards Carl, who was holding his baby sister. Isabelle smiled when the baby’s face turned around enough to look at her and her big dark eyes met her blue ones. 

“Hey.” She greeted Carl as she stood on his side. He looked up at her and then smiled. He was much better at smiling than her. His smile looked like a sunny sky, hers looked more like a dying cat begging for mercy. 

“Are you okay?” He then asked, shifting the baby in his arms as he eyed her worriedly. 

“Yeah, I’m better now.” Isabelle forced out another painful smile as she felt like the biggest liar in the world. She just didn’t want to think that something might be really wrong with her. 

Carl hummed even if he didn’t really sound convinced. Isabelle sat down on the dirt and brought her knees up to her, not really caring about staining her jeans. They were already filthy anyway. She heard Carl sit down too, spreading his legs in front of him as little Judith sat on his lap. 

“She’s so cute.” The girl said as she watched the baby giggle about whatever, clenching and unclenching her small fists. Babies were just weird like that sometimes. “Yeah, she is.” Carl proudly replied as he also watched his sister, “But she’s getting too heavy for me, she will have to learn to walk soon.” Isabelle wondered how old she was when she started walking. She doubted either her father or uncle remembered, but she was sure that she was older than Judith was. It must be awful to have to grow up so fast in such a bad environment. “Do you think he’s okay?” Carl whispered as he nodded towards the priest standing in front of the church. 

Isabelle shrugged, “I think he’s just a bit of chicken. But he has survived until now, so he must be a little smart at least.” “I think it would be good if he turned out to be decent.” The boy replied, “We could use a place to sleep.” He said, turning around to look at her, “Especially some of us.” 

Isabelle couldn’t really tell if he was talking about her or not, so she just hugged her knees and shrugged, looking at the dirt in front of them. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

A whistle blew from inside the church, and soon enough everyone exited. Rick looked over at them and he nodded. Isabelle thought he was smiling, but she couldn’t understand with all that beard. 

“I spent months here without stepping out the front door. If you found someone inside, well, it would have been surprising.” Gabriel said as he got closer to the men. Isabelle and Carl also reached them, but while he went towards his father she just stayed a bit behind, eyeing hers. He still looked sour, so nothing new.

“Thank you for this.” The boy said with his usual smile. 

A shiver ran on Isabelle’s back as they entered the church, making her hide behind her uncle, who shot what she assumed was supposed to be a reassuring look before turning back around, following the group. 

The church was pretty dark inside, and it was just as creepy as the outside. The dim light made it look like some kind of dream. Isabelle recognized the altar in front of them, a lot of benches in front of it. They didn’t look very comfortable to sleep on, but everything was better than the dirt. 

“We found a short bus out back. It don't run, but I bet we could fix that in less than a day or two. Father here says he doesn't want it. Looks like we found ourselves some transport.” Abraham spoke to Rick, “You understand what's at stake here, right?”

“Yes, I do.” The man replied with a serious tone. Isabelle wasn’t sure that she shared the same understanding.

“Now that we can take a breath–” Michonne got cut off by Merle.

“We take a breath, we slow down, shit inevitably goes down.” Her uncle scoffed, “I agree with the gingerbread man.” Daryl shot him a warning look, probably about something Isabelle didn’t know they had talked about, perhaps about Merle’s loudmouth.

“We need supplies no matter what we do next.” Michonne gave Merle a dirty look, like she was daring him to disagree with her. “That's right. Water, food, ammunition.” Rick replied, ignoring the tension between the Dixon brothers and the woman.

Daryl agreed with a grunt, earning a scoff from his older brother. 

Isabelle decided to flee before the situation escalated, because she really didn’t want to see her uncle throwing punches in the house of the Lord. So she slipped right past him and the rest of the group and instead decided to explore a bit of the creepy church. 

There were empty cans of food around the altar, Isabelle noticed as she walked towards it. Weird. He said he always stayed close, but he had lots of food. That was really weird. 

She would talk about it with her dad if she could stand him. And she knew that if her uncle heard about it hell would break loose. Maybe she’ll tell Carl, if he swore not to snitch. 

She wandered around the dark hallways, careful not to step on anything and alerting everyone that she was indeed snooping. 

A framed phrase caught her attention. It had dust on it, but she still recognized the words. 

“and let us not grow weary of doing good. For in due season we will reap if we do not give up”

It was Galatians 6:9. Isabelle didn’t know what it meant, it was just written under the phrase. Must be a christian book. She liked the phrase, very fitting. She didn’t have to feel stupid because she believed in good people. And she shouldn’t stop being good just because other people did. That was why Isabelle liked to listen to priests talking, because they always had something very smart to say. 

“You shouldn’t be spying into other people’s houses, that’s a sin.” A voice called from behind her.

Maybe she didn’t like to listen to all priests, just some of them. Just the ones that didn’t look like they were about to murder you right where you were standing.

“I wasn’t spying. I’m just checking.” Isabelle crossed her arms, “You got something to hide?” She inquired. She felt stupid for arguing with him. Now he was going to kill her and feed her to the rats that probably lived in that dusty place.

Gabriel made another of his creepy smiles, “Not at all, check all you want.” 

Isabelle nodded, but didn’t turn back around. What if she did and he smashed a shovel or something behind her head, knocking her out? 

Nope, she was staying alert, like her dad always taught her to be. She couldn’t feel her hatchet on her, she must have left it somewhere. She really was stupid.

“You like the phrase?” The priest nodded towards the frame behind her, “More people should listen to it, don’t you think?” “We have been out there long enough to know not to trust every sign we read.” Isabelle replied. Her mind went back to those train tracks where she and Carl saw the Terminus’s signs for the first time. 

Sanctuary for all my ass.

The priest chuckled, “You are smart. That’s good.” The girl was a little taken aback. She wasn’t smart. She was quite the opposite. Everyone made sure to remind her, especially her father.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Are you a real priest?” She changed the subject. 

“Do you need to see a license?” He joked. Okay maybe he was a bit funny. 

The girl shook her head, “It would be a really bad sin if you just lied.” 

“You believe in God?” He was now the one taken aback. 

Isabelle shrugged, “I used to. Now it doesn’t really matter.”

The priest gave her an unreadable look and the girl started to really wonder if he was going to kill her for saying such a sacrilege. 

“Isabelle! Where the heck are ya?!” She heard her father shout from the entrance of the church where the group probably still stood, and for the first time she was happy to hear him. 

She said goodbye to Gabriel with a nod and she quickly scrambled back to where she heard her father’s voice come from. She stopped in a halt once she saw him, his furious eyes fixed on her. And he was alone. Crap, here comes the beating.

Isabelle sucked in a breath as she walked towards him, her eyes fixed on her shoes. It was starting to become a habit of hers, but the girl was beginning to find the tip of her dusty boots much more interesting than whatever surrounded her.

“What in the world is wrong with ya?” He grumbled as he closed the distance between them, grabbing her by her bad arm and dragging her away from the hallways, “Don’t ya ever dare disappearin’ again like that, hear me?” Isabelle let out a pained yelp at the feeling of pressure applied on her bruised arm, trying to shake her father’s hand off her, “Let go! Let go!” She yelled as she kept struggling against his firm grip, “It hurts! Let go!” But her father didn’t listen, instead he tightened his grasp even more, making the girl let out another screech, “Let go dad!” She hooted.

Daryl froze for a second, looking down at his daughter's teary eyes. But then decided to keep going, yanking the girl with him.

Isabelle could feel her head pounding as she kept trying to get out his hold, but it was no use. She didn’t want to start crying, to prove that she was still the same crybaby, but the pain in her arm was unbearable.

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Her head kept buzzing even louder as her father dragged her across the church. She let out a yell as his grip tightened, “Wha’ is wrong with ya, uh?” 

Isabelle didn’t answer, instead cried in pain as Darly shook her, “Quit bein’ a baby, c’mon.” The girl’s tears made her vision blurry as she stumbled across something on the floor, almost falling. Daryl’s grip loosened and Isabelle understood that it was now or ever. So she shoved her father with all the strength that she could muster, which wasn’t much but enough to make him back off a bit. 

It came like a reflex, a hand crashing on her cheek, the sting bringing an odd sense of familiarity in Isabelle as she watched her father retreat his arm like he had burnt it. Like he was the one who was hurt.

Her father looked at her with wide eyes as silence fell between them. Isabelle touched her bad arm with the other hand, and it hurt like a bitch. If it wasn’t completely broken before, now it is for sure. “I told you it hurt.” Isabelle barked, “Why do you never listen?” All the shouting must have attracted the rest of the group, because a few seconds later Maggie came bursting inside the church. But Daryl didn’t care, his eyes still wide as he watched the girl send him a hateful glare through her tears. 

Buzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Isabelle, honey, are you okay?” Maggie launched herself to the girl, putting herself between her and Daryl as she checked her for any injury. Her cheek was turning red, but aside from that nothing was wrong. Apparently at least.

The girl nodded, but her eyes were distant. She tugged her sleeve, her eyes now back to her shoes. Maggie didn’t seem convinced, but it was clear that Isabelle wasn’t going to talk anytime soon, so she just shot Daryl a warning look before going away.

Isabelle wanted to cry, but she didn’t have any more tears in her body, which made her feel even more awful. There wasn’t much left to do if not try to swallow the lump in her throat and hope that the slap wouldn’t leave a bruise. It reminded her of the good old times before the apocalypse. Things never change. 

Nothing gets better. Her mom is still away. Her dad is still an asshole. She is still a crybaby. Nothing changes. No one changes.

“Isabelle I-” Her father took a step towards her, but Isabelle took two behind her, keeping the distance.

“Don’t.” She hissed, “Don’t say you are sorry. You aren’t.” “I am.” He said, “I really am.” Isabelle just looked him dead in the eyes, “I don’t believe anything that comes out of your mouth.” She tried to sound like she wasn’t crying until a few minutes ago, but her voice was betraying her. It didn’t matter though, because her dad knew. He always did. Daryl sighed, his head dropping, “I know. And I get it.” He murmured, “But I ain’t lying baby, I’m really sorry. For everything.” He took another step towards her. Isabelle took another two back.

“Just leave me alone. It doesn’t matter anymore.” She could feel tears slipping from her eyes. Turns out she still had some of them left. 

“I… I can’t.” Her father said, “You’re my daughter.” Something inside Isabelle’s little heart switched. Sadness turned into anger. She bit her tongue hard enough to draw blood, but she knew that it wouldn’t stop the hateful words from slipping out of her mouth. Nothing could anymore.

“I ain’t your daughter. You stopped bein’ my father the day you left me in that trailer park.” She spat, “You ain’t anything but a liar.” “Isabelle…” Her father walked towards his daughter, “I’m sorry.” He spoke all too sincerely. He looked sad. Like he deserved to be sad. Like he deserved to be anything. 

“Shut up, I don’t wanna hear it anymore.” She spat, “Dixons don’t apologize. Dixons don’t cry.” She repeated the mantra she had grown up with.

“I’m so sorry. I don’t know what to do.” He mumbled, “I ain’t good with this shit, but I’ll try. I promise.” Isabelle almost felt like forgiving him. Even if he never did, even if he would hit her if the roles were reversed and she was the one crying. But the beast inside her heart and her head called for blood. She didn’t know how to forgive, no one ever taught her.

“I hate you.” She spoke every syllable and Daryl was sure that it felt worse than having a hundred knives in his heart, “I hate you for being a shitty dad. I have you for leaving. I hate you for not caring.” Now it was Isabelle’s turn to walk towards him, pushing him with her good hand, “How does it feel uh?” She asked as she watched her father's eyes water up.

 “I love you.” The words came like a whisper but felt like a whole mountain had crumbled on Isabelle as she widened her eyes. He never told her that he loved her. Not when she had to go to the hospital when she was five because she had fallen off a tree and broke her leg. Not when it was her birthday. Never.

“I love ya more than anythin’ else in this world.” Her father’s lips trembled, “And I’m so sorry for making ya believe that I didn’t.” 

“Stop lying.” Tears started to flow again from Isabelle’s eyes as she hit him again.

“I ain’t lyin’. I love you Isabelle.” Daryl said.

“Liar!” She yelled, “I hate you!” 

A pair of arms wrapped around her, her voice muffled by his chest. A hand ran through her brown hair, like he did when she was young, “Why are you doing this to me?” He could hear her mumble as he kept caressing her head. 

Daryl chewed the inside of his lip, “I don’ know baby.” He murmured, “I don’ know why I am a shitty dad, but I’ll make up for it.” 

“You left me.” Isabelle buried her face deeper in her father’s chest to hide the tears that were coming out her eyes. 

“I know baby. I’m sorry.” His voice was hoarse. He knew why he did it, but she didn’t, and it had to stay that way. Even if it meant that she would hate him for that, “I’ll never leave you again, I promise.” He whispered, “I love you Bambi.” A loud sob came out from Isabelle’s lips, and for the first time in years she cried. Really cried. Without holding back, without swallowing the knot that was starting to untie in her throat. 

She sobbed in her father's arms, like she did when she was a little kid. Like when she was still his Bambi and the world seemed like a happy place. She cried because it would never be the same again and because she wasn’t sure if it was a good or a bad thing. 

She cried because she could cry, because she was alive with a roof on her head and her father with her. She cried because for the first time she felt loved, because she was safe now. 

Isabelle had a lot of reasons to cry and she never realized it.

#fanfic #twd x reader #twd fanfiction #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes x reader #carl grimes x oc #the walking dead #isabelle dixon #lost kids ff

[invisibleraven]

Date prompts! I could show you a good time, jatp sweet tarts

There were a lot of days that Carrie honestly wondered what had become of her life. Not that long ago she had ruled the school, her loyal Candis by her side, a cute jock on her arm, and totally above those who had once been her friends.

Then The Orpheum happened.

Julie and her band had blown Carrie away, and given her dad had some weird psychotic break at it, she kind of wanted something normal and real to fall back on. Not Nick, she was well and truly done with him, they were too on again off again for her. And while the Candis were nice, Carrie didn't think of them as genuine friends, more like acolytes.

So she tried to repair her friendship with Julie. It was stilted at first, and they would never get back to where they were, but it was nice. Even if Flynn still glared at her every time she found Carrie hanging out in the garage.

Which she did-a lot.

Sure she could say it was to spend time with Julie, which was true. But there was another reason-a reason clad in black leather and red flannel. A reason who liked to flirtatiously wink at her and tell her the worst pick up lines. Who sat down and actually explained the stupid calculus that both she and Julie were struggling with. Who wrote her a whole ass country song that made her laugh so hard she snorted.

And well, Reggie lit right up at that, which kind of made up for her embarrassment. So sue her, Carrie had a crush. But no matter how many signals she sent, no matter how hard she flirted back, Reggie never asked her out. Never texted or added her to his socials.

Maybe they didn't have Instagram in Sweden? Sure the long distance thing kind of sucked, and the hologram thing meant she couldn't touch him, but Carrie was smitten, and she was ready to take matters into her own hands.

"So," she started one afternoon when they were the only ones out there, twirling her hair around her fingers. "Are you and the guys ever going to come visit LA?"

Reggie looked up from his bass, startled. "Oh um... not during the school year."

"Aren't you done school?" Carrie asked. She could have sworn that Julie told her the guys were 17.

"Alex and I are, but Luke took a...sabbatical, so we're waiting on him to finish," Reggie said, the tips of his ears pink, his eyes avoiding hers.

"It's just... I really want to meet you in person," Carrie said, almost shyly. "Show you the sights around LA. Maybe we could go get something to eat? Catch a show?"

"You asking me on a date Wilson?" Reggie teased.

Carrie blushed and shrugged. "I could show you a good time, if you wanted."

Reggie groaned, running the palm of his hand down his face. "Oh if only you could."

"Do you have a girlfriend?" Carrie asked. "Because if you do..."

He shook his head. "No, no girlfriend."

"Is it me then?" Carrie asked, her voice tiny and thin. "Do you not like me?"

"Carrie I like you so much," Reggie assured her. "Probably more than I should."

"Then why?"

"We can't date because I'm not some hologram coming to you from Sweden," Reggie said. "I'm a ghost."

"Like a government operative kind of ghost?" Carrie asked. "Or a witness protection kind?"

"Like the characters from a Dickens novel ghost," Reggie replied. "The guys and I... we died in the 90's. Julie brought us back as ghosts somehow and people can see us and hear us since the Orpheum. Before that it was only when we played music with her. None of us really know how or why."

Carrie reached out, swiping her hand through his form, her fingers coming back cold and tingly. "Well fuck."

"Yeah," Reggie said sadly. "We can touch Julie sometimes, but it comes and goes. And we're kinda... stuck at 17. So not great dating material."

"But Julie and Luke-"

"Are taking a chance being together until we cross over," Reggie said sadly. "They both know it won't last, but they want to have some happiness while they can."

"And we can't do that?" Carrie asked.

Reggie shook his head. "I couldn't break your heart-or my own-like that."

Carrie sniffled. "It's just-I really like you."

"I really like you too," Reggie replied quietly. "I would have loved to have you show me a good time. Time just isn't on our side."

"Cn we still hang out though?" Carrie asked, swiping at her eyes.

"Well d'uh, I have to write a sequel to Heart Bent," Reggie said with an eyebrow waggle.

"Can't wait to hear it," Carrie said, sitting back on the couch. Not telling him how bent her own heart felt at that moment. But no matter how bruised and broken Reggie eventually crossing over would leave her, Carrie silently resolved to stay right here.

And enjoy what time they did have-in whatever form she could get.

#filled prompts #ficlet #jatp sweet tarts #julie and the phantoms

[darkskyatnight]

Creative stuff!

Daisy found Tandy out in the Playground’s corridor one day. “You good kiddo?” She asked, the dagger mistress curled up on the floor. For a moment Daisy’s heart pounded, thinking her mentee was in trouble, or sick, but the girl was simply sat thinking. Tandy shrugged. “Just a little homesick.”

Daisy sighed, a sad smile on her face as she slid down next to her. “Yeah I got you. Years ago now, I lost my boyfriend, Lincoln. I went AWOL the following months, and God if I didn’t miss this family. I was hurting, and grieving.”

Tandy looked up at her mentor. She was only eighteen, had the whole world ahead of her, and Daisy seemed to have her shit together. “There was a time I thought I’d lost Ty. During D’Spayre’s rampage, in a dream world he shot Ty, and the sound his body made hitting the ground.. I thought I’d never live again, you know?” She leaned her head against the brick wall, not minding how uncomfortable it made her.

Daisy thought about what Tandy had told her about those times, leaning into her protege and wrapping an arm around her. “I know kiddo.. When Lincoln died, I had been brainwashed by Hive just a few days earlier. It was like coming down from a drug addiction, and losing him at the same time-“

“Yeah I know all about drugs,” Tandy scoffed, and Daisy didn’t mind the interruption so much, that she’d never been told. Daisy had tried some kush when she was a teenager too, but to find out someone as young as Tandy had, it felt like horror. “Can you tell me?” She asked softly. Tandy shrugged, “What’s to tell?” Daisy smiled back, fishing a picture out of her pocket, her husband and wife hugging her in the picture.

“When Fitz, Jemma and I were first at the Academy, I went to a party without them. Got doped up on some pre-ICER type shit, knocked me out. Fitz, uh, he found me at the bottom of our dorm staircase in my jeans and bra, knocked outta my head and feared the worst.” Tandy looked up at Daisy at that, frowning. “What happened?”

“I’d dehydrated myself pretty bad, so Jemma took me to the infirmary, and had them stick a fluid IV in me, got some food down my throat and I was right as rain. Taught me a lesson in moderation though.” Daisy admitted, the picture of her in a medical gown looking very put-out with Fitz and Simmons either side of her bed. Tandy giggled softly at it. She sniffled, scooching a little closer to Daisy.

“My bio mom wasn’t the best of people. After Dad died Roxxon stole our family’s funds, and we ended up living in a trailer park. Brigid found me when I was 16, after I was almost, um-“ She gestured vaguely to her lower area, and Daisy understood in that moment, feeling ever more protective over the young lady. “Yeah, she sort of became my second mom, really. She may not have had me, but she feels that way to me. Mayhem too, if we’re counting her.” Brigid’s alter was freaky in every sense of the word, but there was no doubting she cared for Tandy.

“When Ty and I got into an argument before the Roxxon Debacle, I regressed. Huffed an entire three lines when my.. ex? Stole the money I’d saved up to run outta town.” Tandy said, running through everything in her mind. “I was cold, shivery, all sorts of screwed-up bitch. But Ty stuck it out with me even when I was going cold-turkey, and I love him for that.” She was still afraid to admit it to his face, that would make it real, and it would mean if she truly ever lost him, she’d shatter.

“That kid loves you too, you know that?” Daisy asked softly, Tandy nodding slowly as a tear trailed down her cheek. “Yeah.. that’s what terrifies me.” Daisy sat in silence with her for a few moments before Tandy tilted her head towards the older woman. “So, what’s it like? Parenting, I mean.”

Daisy laughed, ruffling Tandy’s hair. “Shit’s scary. I love Alya, but there’s always the sense I’ll screw up with her. I’m her Mama, you know, Jemma’s her Mummy, I just- Jem’s the better role model out of the both of us, I’m just a hacker who’s crossed so many lines it may as well be a black and white blur.”

“And a superhero,” Tandy reminded her, “That’s gotta make you ten times cooler to her,” She told her mentor, Daisy glowing with pride. “You think so?”

“I know so. If I’d have had you out there when I was a kid, I think I would’ve held myself to your standards too. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re a great mom. Little Ali takes after you a lot, even in the May Stare.” Daisy was particularly proud of being able to emulate her mother’s famous glare now, it seemed to make her so much more formidable, and heaven help anyone who crossed the Fitzsimmons-Coulson family.

“Thanks T. Come on, sparring’s in ten, and Mom will kick our asses if we’re late.” Tandy yelped as she was pulled upwards, her daggers of light already flowing down her veins and into her hands as she ran towards the gym at Daisy’s heels. “Last one there cleans the bunks for a month!” She betted, and Daisy crowed. “Oh, it’s on kiddo!”

#agents of shield #skye daisy coulson #daisy johnson #melinda may #phil coulson #tandy bowen #marvel's cloak and dagger #cloak and dagger #marvel’s agents of shield #phil coulson and melinda may are skye's bio parents #phil coulson and melinda may are skye's biological parents #staticquake #mama daisy #fitzskimmons

[ofpineapplesanddawns]

Let’s do a little follow-up for that whole Thorne finds out vampires are real thing, yeah?

If you’re not a fan of that being part of the au, well... kinda hard for me to take vampires away from Peter. I’m too attached to the canon fact that these exist in his universe and having Peter actually hunting them as a hobby, so... *shrugs wildly* 

Or this could be a whole different branch of the au, who the hell knows. 

Warning: mentioned death, hangover, feelings are repressed, sickness 

On with the fic!

--

It’s just past six in the morning when Thorne wakes up. 

His head feels like it’s full of lead and cotton and whatever the hell he had been drinking last night. He groaned and blearly looked around, finding that he was in his hotel suite, and that he was currently laying on Peter’s lap. The younger man was sleeping, snoring just a little.

He was wearing a leather jacket, different from his flashy stage one, and even in his hungover state, Thorne spotted something poking out from under the jacket. He carefully pulled it open, seeing wooden stakes and silver crosses, along with what was clearly a hunting knife.

What the fuck?

What the actual fuck?

Why was Peter armed to the damn teeth with-

And then it hit the musician, the horrors of last night. The feeling of having lost complete control of his movements, following after that girl in hot pink, the poor woman in the bathroom whose throat was torn open by teeth-

Thorne ran to the bathroom and lost whatever was left in his stomach, coughing and gagging as he remembered the terrible sight.

Then the door had been kicked open, and he had seen Peter, ready to fight. What the fuck?

That hot pink girl, Thorne had watched her... she just... dust! She turned to dust when Peter stabbed her! 

There was the sound of water, a squeak of a faucet, and then a cold glass was pressed against the side of Thorne’s head. He looked up, seeing Peter standing there, his expression impossible to read.

“We need to talk.”

--

Thorne poked at the breakfast that sat before him, Peter had ordered room service, telling Thorne some food would help with his hangover. He felt like he might be sick again, but he nibbled on some bacon.

Peter had removed his jacket, along with a whole shit ton of hidden weapons he had been carrying on his person. He was down to his normal clothes, jeans, t-shirt, but Thorne couldn’t see him as normal. Not after what happened.

He watched as the actor drank from a cup of coffee he had ordered from Starbucks to be brought up, looking at the table instead of at Thorne, before he coughed. “Right. We should...”

“What the livin’ hell was all that last night?” Thorne blurted out.

Peter made a face, sighed, and leaned back in his chair. “So... ya know how I told you that my parents were killed in a home invasion, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, it was... more than that. I walked in on my parents’ murder, my dad already slaughtered after having trying to shoot the invader, my mom was killed right before my eyes. I watched as she was being drained of her blood by a... well, a vampire.”

“Those ain’t real, mate.”

Peter stared at him, and Thorne swallowed hard.

“Really? After what happened last night?” Peter’s teeth were bared, he looked annoyed.

Thorne shrunk in his seat. “Drugged girl, right?”

The other man shook his head. “They’re real, so very, very real. I don’t just collect all that shit up in my place before I want to, because it looks cool. I mean, yeah, those are reasons, but it’s really all research, defense. I’ve been protecting myself for years, since that night. Used to sleep with a knife at the side of my bed for so long

“Last year... the vampire who killed my parents came here, to start a new coven, and a kid found out about it, came to me for help. I rejected him, I didn’t want to get involved, my instinct to survive was too strong, and then the vampire’s minion fuckin’ broke into my place and killed my girlfriend.”

Thorne watched at Peter took a long drink from his cup before continuing. “Teamed up with the kid, after his girlfriend was attacked and made into a vampire, used a blessed stake to kill Jerry, that’s the vampire, stupid name for a vampire. Killing him freed his minions, but apparently it didn’t stop vampires from deciding this was a hot place to set up shop. I’ve been goin’ out every couple of nights to hunt down any vampires.”

The musician sat quietly, taking all this in. This had to be a lie, right? No. Peter wasn’t lying, he could tell, fuck, he really was picking up on things about his fuck buddy, wasn’t he? He ran a hand through his hair. “And last night?”

“Was trackin’ down that girl, called her Candy Pink, never knew her name. She hypnotizes her prey for fun and then she kills them, she was gonna do that to you last night.”

Peter sucked on his bottom lip, looking away. “Thank fuck you drunkenly called me. Cause if you hadn’t...” He swallowed, seeming to be trying to choose his words wisely. Then he didn’t say anything, instead taking another drink.

“I would’ve died.” Thorne said, hollow at the idea that he nearly died last night, but was saved at the last second because he had called Peter. Yeah, he had called the guy because holy shit, he was really lonely, and horny, and weirdly missed having Peter at his side.

All that saved his life last night.

“What happens now?” He asked after a moment or two.

“I don’t know.” Peter said, honestly. “I mean, you now know the truth of vampires, ‘s up to you for whatever you wanna do about it.”

“I don’t want to get involved.”

“Good call, you really don’t.” Peter nodded. “I don’t want to be involved either, but... weeeelllll... kinda have to be. Keeps people a little bit safer in this stupid city. Makes me feel better about what the fuck I’m doin’ with my life.”

“I’m gonna be alright, yeah? No... side effects?”

“Did she bite you?”

“No.”

“Then you’re gonna be fine. Physically. Mentally? Ehhh... not sure what to do for you there, been trying to fix my trauma with booze and whatever for years.” The brunet sniffed. “Ain’t the best method, but huntin’ vampires is better for me than that. Kinda. Well. Still get hurt, but whatever.”

Thorne nodded, what the hell, his whole world just got turned upside down and he wasn’t sure what to do about it.

“I need a drink.” He finally said and Peter snorted. 

“Yeah.” He reached across the counter, taking Thorne’s coffee mug. “Let’s make this a li’l stronger for ya, you’re gonna need it.”

-- 

Peter saved Thorne’s life because he likes him, Thorne was able to have his life saved because he’s horny and unconsciously really likes Peter.

I don’t know who has the brain cell in this relationship. 

#john's drabbles #thorne jamison x peter vincent #good omens extended universe

[randomshyperson]

For every request I send, my love, tell me what you want from me in return and I’ll do it 😩😩

But can I request a Nat x Reader where Nat is surprise visiting her family in St. Petersburg only to find her girlfriend already there because they love her more than Nat. I can see Melina being like “she knows how to take care of the pigs”

Hello! Well, I would say i want hugs and kisses but we have an ocean between us haha Hope you like this my friend, it's short but it's sweet.

Gif is not mine, blessed are the gif makers.

Warnings: None.

Words: 1.539 K

Dictionary> Медовый (darling/dear) | мой милый воин (my dear warrior)

All Works Masterlist

//-//-//-//-//-//-//-//-//-//-//

Sweet Petersburg - Oneshot

Natasha parked her car just outside her mother's house, the smell of recent rain in the air as she stepped out of the vehicle, a nostalgic smile on her lips to be back home after a while.

She's visiting for the weekend, St. Petersburg is cold in the autumn, but also really beautiful, and even if she didn't say it out loud, she misses her family everyday.

Nat walked towards the house, she hadn't spotted any family members, but judging by the noise of laughing and talking inside the kitchen, some of them were inside.

She left her bag on the sofa, moving to greet them when the sound of a voice made her frown. Sounded like you.

"Mom?" Nat called out loud and the laughter stopped. The next second two women were coming from the small kitchen to join Natasha in the living room, who was standing with her arms crossed.

"Tasha, darling, you're here!" Melina greeted excited as she moves to hug her daughter. But Natasha's eyes are on you, smiling shyly at her with your hands in your pockets.

"I am." She says. "I'm sorry, am I missing something? Why are you here, babe?"

She asks curiously directly at you. Before you can answer, Melina is touching your shoulder and smiling at her daughter.

"I invited her, of course." She clarifies. "She's great with the pigs, and she's such a lovely companion, Tasha."

Nat let's a short laugh.

"I know, mom. That's why I'm dating her." She says almost dry, and you roll her eyes at her jealousy. Nat is looking at you again next. "I thought you were in Turkey."

"I was." You say as you step forward, resting your hands on Natasha's hips. "I runned into Yelena there. Then she video chatted with your mom and they insisted for me to come for the weekend."

“And you didn't think about asking me to join you? At my family house?" Nat asked with incredulity, but you just smiled at how cute she looked when angry.

"Natasha, don't be like that, it's not like you two need to be together all the time." Melina intruders with a humorous gaze. "Besides, she's been here many times before."

"Wow, what? Natasha exclaim surprised, moving away from your arms as you give her a mixture of a guilty and playful look. "Are you two for real?"

Melina signs impatiently, turning away from this conversation as she walks to the kitchen, Natasha following her while complaining about not being fair that she was spending more time with you than with her own daughter.

You would have followed if Yelena didn't come into the living room with some groceries.

"Just saw Nat's car outside, didn't know she was coming." She remarks as you quickly move to help her with the bags.

"Yeah, you better keep these comments to yourself, Lena. " You say and rush to explain as the woman frowns at you. "Your sister is not pleased to know I’m used to came here without her."

"What? Why?" She asks while you two move to the kitchen, but you don't answer as you two meet Melina and Natasha again, still arguing.

"I just don't think it is fair that none of you called me to let me know that my girlfriend was around!" Natasha accuses grumpy making Yelena laugh.

"It's not our fault your girlfriend is nicer than you, poser." Yelena teases as she puts the groceries on the balcony next to you. Natasha lets go of an annoyed sign turning to her mom again.

"Mom, do something! She's mocking me!"

You want to laugh at the scene but you just stay behind, not wishing to upset Natasha anymore.

Melina sighs as she massages her temples with her fingers.

"Please,girls, don't fight each other." She asks as she ignores Natasha's protest saying that Yelena started the whole thing and moved to grab the groceries you and Yelena brought. "I'm making dinner, everyone out my kitchen!"

That's how you ended up outside, with a grumpy Natasha and a smiley Yelena, walking around the back of the house to join Alexie, who was fixing Melina's truck in the back.

"Hey dad!" Natasha greeted as you reached him, the man was under the car and lifted the vehicle in the air to smile at his daughter.

"Tasha! Hey, kid, good to see you!" He said and put the vehicle back down to roll out and stand up. "Didn't know you're joining us this weekend."

Natasha grumbles insatisfy which makes Yelena laugh and Alexei frowns in confusion.

As his girls moved to sit in the bench nearby, you whispered to him: "She didn't take well knowing you invited me over without her."

"But what's the problem with that?" He asks loudly, attracting the attention of the girls, you sign but he doesn't mind. "It's a good thing that we are having trips with you, you're part of the family now!"

Natasha wides her eyes.

"Having trips? Excuse me?" She asks angrily as she stands up. "How many times have you hung out with my family without me?"

"Well…" You started uncertainty, playing with your fingers. Yelena smirks.

"We had that trip to California last month." She counted while Alexie murmured in agreement. "Also went to Philly. She stayed here for independence day too, and we had tacos night last week. Besides that, whenever she's around my mission place I invite her for a beer." Yelena told and all Natasha did was stare in shock at her and yourself.

"Oh, don't forget China. We had that thing too." Alexie added and Natasha signed.

"You're all unbelievable." She accused as she rushed to pass through you and into the house again.

You were uncertain about following her inside.

"Well, that didn't go well." Alexei comments with an awkward posture. "I will try talk to her."

As he left, you moved to sit with Yelena.

"Sorry about that, maybe I should have left you to tell her about the trips." She said but you just signed softly.

"It's okay." You say. "It's my fault for keeping it for so long. She would have found out anyway."

Yelena murmurs and you two fall silent for a moment.

"California was really fun wasn't it?" She asks amusedly, making you smile.

"Yeah, it was."

You two exchange giggles before deciding to go back inside and you busy yourself with helping Melina with dinner.

//-//

Alexei came back alone from Nat's room with a slight grimace that made you worried.

So you decide you should talk to her yourself.

As you reach her room, you knock before coming in.

Natasha was sitting in her window, next to her bed while looking outside. In that position, you understood that she saw you laughing and talking to Yelena in the yard and by the recents events, that might not be the best.

"Are you mad at me, Nat?" You couldn't hold your words as you reached her, and she turned her head to you immediately, a confused frown in her face.

"Of course not!"

You sign in relief, taking a step forward. "Are you mad at your family?"

"Yes."

You take a deep breath. "Do you want me to stop seeing them?"

She gives a short laugh, shaking her head in denial as she extends her hand for you to grab. As you do, she pulls you towards her gently.

"Of course I don't want you to stop seeing my family, sweetheart." She says as she circles your waist with her arms. "I just got mad at them for not inviting me."

"I'm sorry, Nat." You say. "I should have said something, but they didn't and I was worried about sounding rude or something. You know how much their approval matters to me."

She smiles tenderly, her fingers caressing you gently.

"Yeah, that's why you're so sweet and polite all the time, and they love you more than me." She declares, making you frown. "It's fine of course, how couldn't they not?"

"Don't say that, Nat." You ask as you raise your hands to her cheeks. "Your family loves you very much. They just hang out with me because you're not around as much as I am."

"You think?" She questions, sounding so vulnerable that you wish you could banish all her insecurities away.

"Of course, Nat." You state. "We only talk about you, babe. All the time. And we all love to do it because we all love you. "

She gives you a shy smile before pulling you to her laps, making you giggle as she kisses your face a few times before moving away.

"Give yourself some credit, babe." Nat says with a lovely gaze. "You're a very pleasant company and I think they love to spend time with you as much as I do."

You smile before kissing her in the mouth, gently and sweet like this moment. Scenes like this are definitely your favorites with Nat. Along with late nights with her hands running through your body.

"I love you, Медовый." She whispered against your lips.

"I love you too, мой милый воин." You say and Nat giggles.

"Since when you speak Russian?"

"Your mom is teaching me."

"Okay, out."

//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia || @mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @helloalycia // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm // @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx || @yuhloversxx || @ymzki-haruki || @wouldirunofftheworldsomeday || @lostandsearching || @lezzzbehonesthere || @musicinourlips || @chaekhan || @diaryoflife || @nervoustrack || @aquamarinescarlet || @cristin-rjd || @idamaemann || @fortunatelynerdylight

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanoff x yn #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #natasha romanoff x you #avengers imagines #black widow x reader

[tooruluv]

Katsuki Bakugou x F!Reader ( part 1 )

❝ ...and then there’s you. ❞

description: you and bakugou have hated each other since childhood. through the constant bickering, fighting, and actual fist fights... you had no idea that you had been writing to him.

genre: angst, soulmate au where you have a notebook that you can write to your soulmate in

word count: 3.8k

warnings/notes: strong language, lots of angst, aged up characters, bakugou being bakugou, reader has an air manipulation quirk created as part 1 of 3 for my winner of my tooruluv2kparty contest @katsulovee​ <33

teaser | part 2

| masterlist

“ ‘cause when the sun goes down, someone’s talking back ” - talking to the moon, bruno mars

┏━━━━━⋇⋆⋆⋇❦⋇⋆⋆⋇━━━━━┓

The storm only escalated, casting the sky in deep blues and greys. Loud rain clattered against the roof of your apartment building, the ceiling of your top floor apartment being the only thing that separated you from the pour. 

The rain may be cold, but you were on fire.

You had been livid all day, positively outraged by the man who seemed to always be in your way. He was the most arrogant, most opinionated, and most… loud-mouthed person you ever met. You were screaming from the inside out, burning with rage.

Groaning, you sprawled out on your bed.

Katsuki Bakugou was the biggest fucking issue on the planet. His absurd need to be the best at everything he did, his cold demeanor and venom that spews from his mouth -- you wanted nothing more than to punch him directly in the throat. 

With a deep breath, you flipped open your Soulmate Journal. 

The world was such a strange place, full of quirks and criminals and heroes and villains. To add on top of that, when you turn thirteen a journal just… appears. And whoever is your soulmate can read everything you write. Once they read it, they can reply or talk to you that way and the ink disappears. There are plenty of rules that go along with it, like if you turn thirteen before your soulmate does, the ink is red until they receive their own journal. Or how the journal itself is indestructible. Or the biggest rule: you cannot write any given name. 

When you’re thirteen, your life is full of hope and wishful thinking. Almost everyone at that age is excited to start writing to their Person, the one who they were supposed to be created to be with. You were surprised when you opened yours to find nothing written.

You assumed that you were a bit older than your soulmate, but that was quickly shut down as you wrote in black ink. Your soulmate hadn’t written anything. 

It took two months for him to write back. Two months of your excessive writing and nearly diary-like entries. Two months of you wondering if they would ever write back. Until he did.

Today sucked.

That was all you wrote, your past two months of writing still ever present and glaring at you with smudges and hinted annoyance. The ink started to fade like Harry talking to Tom Riddle, reappearing with new handwriting.

It was scrawled across the page with terrible handwriting, very much one of a middle school boy. 

Life sucks. Deal with it.

You were now twenty two, an adult and that once hope and love has turned into pessimism and indifference. And life still sucked. 

You were pretty famous, your air manipulation quirk one that catches a lot of attention. That, alongside your rivalry with the second most famous hero Bakugou, brought an abundance of recognition. Bakugou completely steals your thunder every chance he has, stealing your light and victories. 

You hated him. With the utmost disrespect, you hated him. Since your days in the hero academy, the two of you were at each other’s throats. He would even stop in the middle of antagonizing Deku to make some horrendous comment towards you instead. 

You ended up scribbling along the Soulmate Pages, heated rage boiling with each word.

Hey Honey! I need to vent if that’s okay.

Of course.

You would not believe the shit I have to endure in real life. I wish I could describe the hatred I have for this man I work with, he’s a real piece of shit. Anyway, how was your day?

My day was about the same as yours, living with the idiots of real life. If we could write names I would because there’s this bitch I work with that I fucking hate.

Maybe we need new jobs (insert laughing face even though I’m livid right now)

Yeah. Maybe. But we’ll get through it.

It took years for your soulmate to warm up to you. The first interactions were hesitant, slow, and barely considered conversations. But now you can discuss your day as if you were texting a friend, talk about your likes and dislikes. 

He was your soulmate after all.

You learned that he was a boy and an only kid, he had a strong quirk, and that he liked ramen. He was a rule follower and his handwriting always used proper punctuation. You told him all about your life and how you wanted to travel away from everything.

You wanted to know who he was, more than anything. 

You wished you could tell him your name and quirk, where you lived and who you were. You wished he could do the same. 

You’ve tried, of course, to write out your name and location. But the second the words were written onto the page, they turned into a random assortment of letters. Gibberish. Never to be written, never to be known.

“Dude, fucking relax!” You rubbed your temple at your desk, voice spitting venom against Bakugou’s loud vocals. “Not everything is about you, just sit down and wait to be sent on a mission.”

“What did you say to me?”

Katsuki Bakugou had been going on and on about how Deku got assigned to a mission in upper Japan, sent to work with a separate force for a bit to expand his horizon. He was outraged, yelling and standing tall and broad to pretend to be bigger than he was. 

You were doing paperwork, trying to concentrate despite his yelling and complaining and bitching. You were hovering above your seat with your legs crossed, papers scattered (it was a habit of yours, to just kind of hover a couple of inches off the surface of things; air manipulation and all that). 

“I said,” You turned to look into his ablaze eyes. “Sit down and wait. Not everything is about you.”

You only threw fuel into his fire, you could hear the sparking between his fingers. You turned back to your paperwork. 

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, you’re not even in the top five heroes.” Bakugou barked in your direction. You could feel his heat as he approached your desk. “You can sit and do your own paperwork all you want! I need to be put on serious cases, just like stupid Deku is always placed on.”

“You can argue with me all you want.” You moved to continue your work, pretending to be unbothered. You could feel the anger boil in your chest. “But you still are and will always be measly little number two. Now shut the fuck up, you’re interrupting those who are actually working.”

He was going to hit you, you knew he was. You two ended up fist fighting all the time, oxygen and explosions ending in destruction. Before he could, your boss walked in with a bellowing, “Bakugou! Get over here, I have something for your loud ass!”

You decided to give him a bored middle finger as he walked away.

They say that words are the way of life. You could say an infinite amount of words and sentences in your lifespan, you could say a word and only ever say it one time. Each assortment of words are different each time, something new every day. 

You figured that’s why you hated the soulmate thing. 

Finding your soulmate should be one of chance, of pure coincidence and meeting of strangers. With the journal, you are starting something you only hope to find. You could go your whole life without finding your soulmate.

And that is terrifying.

There are horror stories of writing to an endless notebook, sad movies created where the lettering turns back to red before they’ve found each other. You wanted nothing more than to meet and just… be with the man you’ve been writing to since you were thirteen.

It seemed to be some sick joke, a tease in the palm of your hands.

When you were young, you attended UA High. It was meant to be the best school for heroes, grooming them into the best of the best. Both of your parents had been heroes themselves, your mom with a cloud quirk and your dad with wings. You took after a bit of both, no wings and no clouds but could create air currents and manipulate the air surrounding you within a certain radius. It has something to do with your breath and lungs, but you never looked too much into the actual DNA aspect. 

When you arrived in the hero program, you passed the tests with ease. You tried to focus mainly on yourself and gaining your own points, alongside a couple of students with the same idea. 

You were pissed when you were placed in 1-B instead of 1-A. It was the start of your rivalry with the explosion boy. 

Luckily, you quickly gained friends. You actually seemed to have a soft spot for Hitoshi Shinsou, and you and Itsuka Kendou seemed to be the only two with brains (this led to many conversations resulting in shit talking and giggling). So in the end, you weren’t too upset to be placed in the second best class. 

And you did get to fight with Bakugou a lot more without punishment, your professor wanting to be number one as much as anyone else. 

One particular day that you remember to this day, one that really labeled your hatred for Bakuogu, was just a normal day at first. You were finished with your normal morning classes and just beginning the hero portion of the day, the training and fighting. 

Your class was working with Class 1-A for the day, teaming up with one of their students and seeing how your quirks would act both against and with each other.

You were, of course, teamed with Bakugou.

The fucker was already set in his ways, loud and in need of attention at all times. You were well aware of his… loud personality… at that point, being beside Shinsou when he called your class “extras”. He was already someone you wanted nothing to do with. 

“Good luck.” Kendou muttered to you when your names were announced as partners. “See ya.”

The second you headed to him, you could feel his apprehension. He wanted nothing to do with you. And you wanted nothing to do with him. In fact, you were hoping for Uraraka as your partner, wanting to see how your air manipulation would work with her gravity. 

Apparently the professors wanted to see the oxygen working with the burst of flames. Which, honestly, is cool yes — but it was the person behind the explosions that you did not want to be a part of.

Bakugou was not one to mumble under his breath. 

“Why am I paired with you?” He rolled his eyes, crossing his arms across his chest. “I could at least be with someone interesting like Mind Control over there.”

You already wanted to punch him. “You’ve obviously never seen my quirk.”

“Clearly it hasn’t been interesting enough to be worth my attention.”

“Say that again when I remove the oxygen straight from your lungs.” You threatened, knowing damn well you didn’t know how to do that yet. “Let’s just get this over with.”

He let out a long exhale, moving into position. You were already flying by the time he let off his first explosion.

His utter disrespect for you and your quirk not only irritated you, but only was the start of a long term competition on Who Can Be Better Than Who that lasted the rest of your time at UA.

Through the constant loud arguments, the yelling in the cafeteria and the comments just loud enough for the other to hear, the fist fights and the swearing that was reserved only for each other, you found comfort in talking to your soulmate. It was relaxing after a long day of pure annoyance and shit talking to finally just get to have normal conversations with someone you enjoy. 

Are we allowed to ask about school in this thing?

I don’t think so.

I’m sighing. Pretend that you could hear my sigh.

Wow, that was a loud sigh.

YOU’RE FUNNY! Anyway, I really want to know if we go to school together :(((

I don’t even think we can talk about JRTPD or BO::SOMD. See, they turn into gibberish.

 I mean… we can say school. So we can ask ABOUT school just not… specific schools. 

That’s true. I go to a special school and am the best in my class. You’re getting lucky by having me as a soulmate.

Well I would only hope so. Need a smart soulmate for fun facts.

Fun fact: you’re pretty cool. I guess.

Ah, the admission of your love for me.

Not love. I don’t hate talking to you if that does anything for you.

The one person you don’t hate. I’ll take it, Soulmate.

Don’t push it.

We should give each other nicknames. Since we can’t call each other by our real names.

Does the book allow it?

My parents did it before they found each other.

Okay. Like what?

I can call you Hot Head, because you’re hot and because you are always writing about how mad you are.

No.

I can always go with something cute like Honey.

This is gross. I was thinking like gamer tag nicknames.

Okay, Honey.

I take back what I said, asshole.

Honey and Asshole. The perfect pair. We could solve crimes!

I’m going to bed now.

Goodnight Honey ♡ I know that you aren’t reading these but you will in the morning. Dork.

“Do you know who your soulmate is?” You asked.

You were hanging out with Kendou, Monoma, and Shinsou in Kendou’s bedroom. The dorm rooms were all set up the exact same way, but for some reason Kendou’s always seemed to be bigger. 

“No idea.” Monoma shrugged. “I don’t think I want to know until I’m older, we’re too young and I want to focus on graduating first.”

“He’s right.” Kendou twisted in her position on her bed. “Why? Do you want to know who yours is?”

“I want to know more than anything.” You sighed. Your head was laid across Shinsou’s lap on the floor. “We get along so well and I try to talk to him every day.”

“How do you know it’s a he?”

“He told me.” You laughed. “We tried really hard to narrow it down as much as possible.”

“It sounds like he wants to know you too.” Kendou said. She giggled. “I should ask my soulmate their gender.”

“What about you, Shinsou?”

“I barely write to mine.” He shrugged, making your head tilt a little. “I’m sure they understand.”

“I’m sure they do, they were made to be yours.” You looked up at him with a smile. “Of everyone, I thought you would write the most.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because most people are scared to talk to you in real life.”

He flicked your forehead. “You aren’t scared to talk to me.”

“I’m not scared to talk to anyone.”

“I’ve noticed.”

You sighed and closed your Soulmate Journal, the rain now casting a dark shadow across the entirety of the sky. Your face was flushed in red, hair disheveled and you were still in your hero uniform, dirty and kind of burnt. 

Katsuki Bakugou had not only interrupted your victory, but he had claimed it as his own. His desperation to be the number one hero hadn’t stopped. It’s been years, you’ve grown past his stupid desire and he simply… hasn’t.

You fought the villain yourself, using your quirk to it’s full capabilities and trapping them in a circle of air. You fought for over an hour by yourself, taking up the mission while out and witnessing it first hand. Your freshly bought coffee was long forgotten as you raced after the thief.

The second you landed the thief, the ball of air dissipating as you grew tired, Bakugou arrived in a fiery feat and handcuffed the villain. Of course, the main photos were of him with the handcuffs, standing proud as if he hadn’t stolen your fight. 

His argument was that he did help. Yeah, he did ‒ for three seconds.

Katsuki Bakugou was a piss stain upon himself, truly the worst of the worst who’s own personal interest outweighs anything else in his life. He will never be anything but second best because he never thinks of anyone but himself. 

If only he could read thoughts instead of turning his sweat to ignition. Then you wouldn’t have to put your harsh thoughts into tone.

Your Soulmate was one of two people you genuinely enjoyed talking to, he always seemed to be on the same page as you. The other is Shinsou, from your high school. He was the only one you really kept in contact with.

Sometimes you like to convince yourself that Shinsou is your soulmate, since he hasn’t found his either. But you compared the handwriting and it didn’t match at all. Shinsou’s handwriting was much smaller and neater than the man you would eventually call yours.

“This is so fucking stupid!” You screamed, your rage reaching its max.

You threw your journal across your bedroom, the storm masking the sound of it banging against the wall by your bed. You were pissed, you wanted nothing more than to see Bakugou’s downfall. It’s been years. You were over it.

You were over it all. You were over him, you were over not knowing your soulmate, you were over being alone in your stupid apartment. It all reached it’s apex. Maybe you needed a shower, or maybe you needed to move from your job.

Your fit was interrupted by a loud crash on the roof of your apartment building. You nearly jumped at the sound, the sound not even close to the crashes of thunder. 

You rushed to the roof, your hero senses kicking in more than your regular carefulness. Once you were outside, you were almost instantly drenched in the rain. Only a couple of yards ahead of you was a man crumbled to the ground; they must’ve hit the roof harder than you thought.

When they turned, clutching their side, you knew instantly who it was.

“Deku?” You rushed towards him. “I thought you were in Hirosaki for some serious villain.”

He moved to stand, much taller and broad than he was back in high school. Yet still with the fluffy green hair and bright eyes with hope always seemingly sewed in. 

“I was. I just… I need your help.”

“Why do you need my help?” You helped him stand fully, taking his hand from his side to check for an injury. He wasn’t bleeding. “Doesn’t Uraraka live around here?”

“I don’t… want to involve her in this.” He stood straight. His healing must’ve started. “I… this is something I need you for.”

“Okay…” You crossed your arms. “What do you need?”

“I know what you’re going to say.” Deku started, and you didn’t move. “But it’s Bakugou.”

“No.”

“C’mon, Aero, I know that you two…”

“No.”

“Please, I…”

“Deku, you know more than anyone how and who he is. Whatever it is, he can deal with it himself.” You started back towards the stairs. “I appreciate you coming to me, for whatever reason, but this is something that you have to find someone else for.”

“Don’t think of this as us doing something for him.” Deku rushed to stand in front of you. “Think of it as a favor for me. You owe me one.”

“Don’t do this now.” 

“I’m officially cashing in my favor.”

You sighed, “Fine. Can you at least tell me what we need to do for the asshole?”

“I’ll tell you on the way.” He nearly jumped in joy. “But you cannot tell anyone. Not Shinsou, not the police, and not our boss. This is under the radar.”

“Oh, shit.” You followed him as you flew next to him. “What are you getting me into?”

tag list: @katsulovee @paradisebabey @seaofemptygold @zhaixiaowen @daylghits @haikyuusimp91 @darknessyournewfriend @samwise-though @liaxxx109

#anime #manga #tooruluv🍄post #bnha #bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugou x you #katsuki #katsuki x you #katsuki x reader #bakugou angst #bakugou soulmate au #bakugou headcannon #bakugou hcs #bakugou imagine #bakugou headcanon #bnha x reader #bnha x you #mha #mha x reader #mha x you #shinsou #shinsou x reader

[miekasa]

your dad!levi headcanons made my day. would you happen to have any thoughts about dad!eren?🥺

Unfortunately... I do 🤒🤒 he’d be such a determined but fun dad, like I don’t think he'd be completely lax, but he's not an authoritarian either, but he definitely butts heads with his kids when they get a little older and more rambunctious, and you gotta remind him to be patient with them because... because they're exactly how he was when he was 8 😭😭

He was stupid excited when he found out you were gonna have kids. Like, way more excited than you thought he’d be; you’ve maybe mentioned kids in passing or casually, and he was never negative about the prospect of them, but he had never shown this level of excitement before.

He gets even more excited when you find out you’re having twins. And then reality hits him that you’re having twins. That means two of them. At the same time. Yeah, he might have been excited about one, but two... the whole dad thing really kicks in right there. 

He has this period of time where he’s definitely still supporting you and being positive throughout your pregnancy, but then he’ll lay awake at night scared shitless of the fact that he’s gotta raise two kids. He starts freaking out so bad, Mikasa has to slap some sense into him. 

He’s losing it one night at her place, completely having a downward spiral of doubt and anxiety, going off about what ifs and how maybe you’d be better with someone else being a dad to them and Mika literally slaps him to shut him up. “You are going to be a dad to those kids, and you’re gonna be a good one, too, Eren. Nobody’s saying you won’t fuck up, but you’ll have help along the way.” 

He feels better after that (his cheek hurts like hell for two days tho), and the reassurance from Mikasa and you really does help, and he’s back on track to bouncing off the walls about having kids. 

Obsessed with the concept of baby clothes (“Babe, are they really gonna be this tiny??”), but he doesn’t understand the sizing of them. Is there really that big of a difference between four month olds and ten month olds?? He hasn’t grown that much in six months, why would they?? 

Don’t even get him started on baby shoes, he thinks those are completely ridiculous: “Their toes are gonna be the size of my pupils, why would we put shoes on them?? That’s dumb, we’ll just get those fuzzy socks to keep em warm when they’re cold, I don’t wanna squash their growing toes.” 

He cries when he holds them for the first time, because, they are, predictably, tiny. Tinier that he ever could have thought imaginable; he can hold is son and his daughter with one hand each and it’s an incredibly tender and heartwarming and humbling thing to him. 

He literally cried more than you throughout the whole delivery, too. He was a complete emotional wreck; happy and jittery one moment, anxious and nervous the next, crying no matter what, and yeah, he might have passed out once or twice, but don’t mention it. 

Gives the twins a “house tour” when you take them home from the hospital, narrating it every bit of the way. He holds them both to his chest, slowly parading around your house like, “And this is the kitchen, and this is the fridge where we keep your baby mush. It tastes bad, I tried it, but hopefully you’ll like it.” 

Your daughter looks like you, but also like Carla; and your son has damn near all of Eren’s features, and they both got his green eyes (lucky them). Eren is obsessed, and loves playing peek-a-boo with them. 

When his paternity leave is up, he figured he’d go back to work first and leave you at home with the kids to give you more time to rest and let your body have more time to adjust after giving birth. Half-way through his first day back, he calls out early under the pretenses of being sick because he misses you guys that much. 

He calls out sick for the remainder of the week too, and finally by Friday he sits down with you and is like, “I know we said I would go back to work first but I don’t think I can do it, babe. I wanna stay and hang out with them all day before they’re too big and have to go to school.”

And that, is essentially, how Eren comes to the conclusion that he wants to be a stay at home dad. It doesn’t surprise you, or anyone really, it was only a surprise to himself; but it was a surprise to him that nobody else was surprised. 

“What do you guys mean you ‘saw this coming?’” he questions you, Mikasa, and Armin sporadically, “I could have gone back to work if I wanted to!!” To which, you look around at his friends, before Armin finally speaks up, a slight roll to his eyes, “Eren, you can hardly leave them with me or Mikasa for two hours. How did you expect to make it through the work day.”

When they get a bit older, he’s the champ of playing games with them. Acts out the most dramatic “deaths” when he gets shot by a Nerf gun, becomes the most convincing doctor when playing fake hospital, and has learned a pretty damn impressive Mickey Mouse impression to entertain them. 

It’s your daughter that turns out to get most of Eren’s... determined personality. She might only be three years old, but she can argue with him as if she graduated from law school, and swears he never wins with her. How could he; it’s like arguing with himself, please they both stomp away and have to cool down after. 

They make up pretty quick tho, because Eren hates it when they’re mad in general, much less mad at him or you; and he sulks to you, borderline whining about how he doesn’t want her to hate him. You reassure him that she does not hate him, she’s just... feisty like he is. 

It’s her twin brother that consoles and calms her down, because he’s the more tame of the two. By the time Eren’s knocking on the door to their room to talk it out and apologize, she’s already knocked out, leaning up against her brother as they both take a nap. (It’s a sight that could bring him to tears, and he slowly closes the door and goes to cuddle up to you, while he waits for them to finish napping). 

He absolutely loves to lift them up, and even has they get bigger, he insists they’ll never be too big for him to hold them. Both he and the twins get a kick out of having them hang off his arms while he spins around in a circle like a little human sprinkler. 

Family picnics and/or beach days happen often, and more often than not, it ends up with Eren and the kids coercing (see: pulling) you to the water or to play with them.

By the end of the day, Eren’s laying on the blanket lazily eating a sandwich hich you’d packed earlier, with his son sat criss-cross on his stomach. He teases him by airplaining the sandwich near his mouth, only to take a bite of it himself after, because he adores the betrayed exclaimation of “Daddy! No fair!” Eren’s always sure to give him a bite for real after, and a little kiss on the head to make up for it. 

Your daughter sits in your lap, half-asleep, even tho moments before she was oh-so determined to play volleyball against her dad again (“And I’m gonna win, mommy, watch! Daddy’s tall, but I can win!”)

He lets them draw/color/paint on his back. He’ll just lay down on a blanket in the living room and let them go to town. Face painting, too, though that’s for when they’re a bit older; he learns the hard way that a two year old can have pretty rough hands. 

The complete and utter disappointment and betrayal in his eyes when he hears your son proclaim that he thinks Jean is “cool.” Eren has to take a lap, he can’t believe his own kin would say some shit like that. 

Your daughter loves Mikasa, thinks she’s the absolute best person in the world, and always asks if she can be the one to babysit. They both like Armin, too, but Armin’s gotta stay away from your son for a bit because for whatever reason, his blonde hair is very amusing to him, and the kid’s got a pretty strong grip. (“Stop bullying your Uncle Armin, it’s not his fault he’s blonde.”)

You often catch him doing push ups with either one or both of them on his back, and the kids fucking love it. They’re cheering him on, counting completely out of order about the amount of push-ups he’s done, and clapping every time he comes up again. It becomes his favorite workout. 

He swears they’re his best friends and his favorite people in the entire world. He does everything with them: getting the oil changed in his car, going to the store, picking up the mail. He just loves being around them and swears he’s gonna be the best dad for them. 

#anonymous #I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT I DONT WANNA TALK ABOUT IT I DONT!!!! #no no but his daughter IS him and he gets so frustrated and you gotta be like eren babe..... you cant boo her she is you #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #aot x reader

[harveywritings92]

BNHA scenario: you sleepwalk/sleep talk.

Summary: You have a tendency to talk or walk in your sleep, it never really bothered your boyfriend, if you wandered off in your sleep he'd just follow you to make you don't get harmed and take you back to bed, or if you talk in your he'd humor you as he found it hilarious! but tonight was different... this night you seemed to channeled something paranormal and it scares you boyfriend shitless.  

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

Shigaraki: It was around three am when Shigaraki was woken up by you sitting up in bed, he sighed tiredly assuming you were gonna stand up and walk around for couple minutes then wander back to bed, or you were gonna leave the room and he'll have to go make sure you don't hurt yourself and bring you back himself. After five minutes of you not moving Tomura turned around to look at you...

And was very confused you were obviously still asleep, but you were kind of glaring at something? Shigaraki curiously looked over his shoulder and surveyed his dark bedroom confused at what could be holding your attention and was more so stumped when you slowly lifted up your hand and pointed at the large antique mirror, he had set up near his computer; with this almost frustrated expression. "He won't stop starring..." you deadpanned causing your boyfriend to jump from you suddenly talking... 

"W-who won't stop starring?"

"Him, the man in the mirror!

"There's no one in the mirror, y/n"

"The man with no face he's right there...."

You huffed annoyed before laying back down, while Tomura was sitting there looking between you and the mirror shitting brinks! *Wake the fuck up! you think you can just go back to sleep and just leave me on edge like this!* He mentally hissed the froze when he heard a weird scrapping noise coming from the mirror's direction, his red eyes slowly turned to look at the mirror and nearly pissed himself when he saw it the mirror was swaying on the wall right to left, only to stop he made a move like he was gonna get up and check.

"Oh fuck to the no..."  he hissed before laying back down hugging you close, Shigaraki nearly smothered you to death with how tight he was holding onto you! 

The next day you were confused when you came back to the base to find what looked like a box of glitter and rotten woodchips in the dumpster out back, you went to Shigaraki's room and found the mirror gone! in it's place was a random poster and a shelf filled with video-games, comic books and random liquor bottles, Also you noticed that Shigaraki seemed to be avoiding playing any horror videogames involving ghosts for a while; opting instead to play Animal crossing or Pokémon.

====================================================================

{Note: Ayane is the default name for the Dabi's daughter reader in the dad scenarios]

Dabi: He was coming in late from a mission, he sat down on his bed taking his boots off and nearly shat himself when he saw a figure standing up in the corner of the room, he quickly turned the lights on to find you just standing there staring dead ahead, he let sigh expecting you to burst out laughing any second now. "Y/n you scared the crap out o-..." You weren't reacting. "Y/n? Fairy?"  he stood up and waved his hand in front of your face and noticed your steady breathing, and realized you were sleeping... 

Dabi was going to grab your hand when you caused him to jump back, your eyes snapped up to look at him then pointed at the hallway, just in time for Dabi hear giggling and saw what he though was his 2 year old daughter running passed the door. "Ayane?" he called out as he sat you down on the bed and went to get the kid before she hurt herself. "Firefly what are you doing out of-...what the hell?" Dabi trailed off when he saw Ayane peeking out from behind a door, a door that was deadbolted shut, there was no possible way for her to reach the locks let alone open it!  

Before Dabi could take another step despite his instinct screaming at him not to, a faint voice whispered in his ear "You not supposed to follow when they call..." Dabi cussed and turned around to see you standing behind him still sleep walking! then you both heard the door "Ayane" was hiding behind slam shut then lock! Scaring the crap out of your husband and waking you and your daughter up, who started crying for you both as she could. "Touya? why am I in the hall-..." You husband didn't answer he just rushed to Ayane's room like bat out of hell!

"Put your shoes and coat on! we're getting the hell outta here!" he hissed at you while carrying Ayane, you did as you were told but kept asking what was going on? "Now!" he barked making you jump from shock, you've never seen him this shaken up before! "I knew this house was too cheap for a reason!" he growled as he strapped your daughter into her car seat, He told you what happened in the car after driving to a gas station a few blocks away, needless to say the three of you spent the night in a roadside motel and the next morning Dabi was looking for the landlord and some priests! 

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

Izuku: He was woken up by the feeling of being stared at... Izuku woke up and rolled over to see a woman standing over him! He yelped nearly pissed himself before he realized it was you! "Y/n? why are..." his eyes adjusted and he saw the glazed over look in your eyes and realized you were asleep! "What did you have another nightmare again?" he asked getting up holding his hand out to you, but you didn't budge... 

His brows furrowed before deciding to try to take you back to your room and got up and went get the door but was shocked to it locked! but if he locked his door then how did you..." Izuku felt his blood go cold as he turned around ready for a fight! only to find...Nothing?  but no... Your were just here! he saw you! hell, he felt his hand brush against yours when he got up! he checked his closet, under his bed under his desk, you really weren't there! 

Izuku was rightly freaking out as he left his room and went to your room; He started knocking on your door as quietly as possible and waited a few seconds, before he heard you shuffling around as you opened the door rubbing the sleep from your eyes. "Izuku?...that's trippy." You yawned as your boyfriend looked at you confused. "w-what do you mean?" he stammered you were looking mighty creeped out!

"I just had a dream I was in your room and you were staring at me not saying anything, not matter how many times I called your name."

"*goes white as a sheet* h-huh.."

"What? what I say?"

"You...what- I just coming over here to tell you I saw the same thing! Except you were one staring! what the crap?!"

You both started freaking out about the whole situation, before Mr. Aizawa found you both out after curfew; giving you a real reason to be scared!

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

Hawks: Hawks was up late finishing up reports when he saw his phone light up, Keigo checked and saw it was a photo of you sleeping... he hummed not really thinking about it, assuming you sent it sleepwalking, it wouldn't be the first time this occurred... and he was going to keep working when the blond froze. *if you were sleeping, who the hell took that photo?!* Something was wrong!? Keigo rushed out of his office and made it to your house out of breath.

Landing in your backyard he approached the back door he saw you cat Mr. Pants sitting outside refusing to go inside even when he saw Keigo, he very carefully opened the backdoor door and was about to hit the lights, when something in his head told him that was bad idea! that's when the smell hit him...Gas! the winged man cussed under his breath and made his way to your room, finding you passed out on the bed, phone resting on the nightstand, he grabbed you and ran out of the house; without even checking to see if someone else was there!

He laid you out on ground outside checking to see if you were breathing... to his relief you were! but barely! Keigo called the fire department and ambulance, while he feathers opened some of the windows in your house to air it out! the fire department determined that the cause for the gas leak was your new stove, one of the hoses wasn't properly installed.

Keigo asked if anyone else was in the house? The firemen looked at each other befuddled. "Sir, Your lady friend there was the only one in the house." the blonds brows furrowed as he looked down at his phone to look at the photo only to find it gone! in fact there was no history of you ever contacting him! Hawks thought he was going insane!

The next morning when he went to the hospital to check on you, he told you about the photo and asked who was at your house. "No one, It was just me and Mr. Pants!" you insisted but then remembered something. "Y-yeah I had a freaky dream, I thought I was sleepwalking around the house, but when I got to my room I saw myself passed out on my bed! I thought it was soo weird I grabbed my phone and...took...a" Hawks finished your sentence. " A picture." Both of you were pretty shaken up by this whole situation and decided not to say anything about it, unless someone brings up the topic of "creepiest thing that ever happened to you?" and the ghost selfie is your go to story!

#bnha fanfiction #bnha scenarios #bnha imagines #dabi x reader #shigaraki x reader #hawks x reader #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya #touya todoroki #keigo takami #shigaraki tomura #tenko shimura #tw: swearing

[timelesslords]

I’ve Got This Fever

Read on AO3

In which Annabeth catches the flu, and domestic fluff ensues 

Annabeth woke up in pain. 

This wasn’t exactly an unusual occurrence. Being a demigod, Annabeth was no stranger to pain. She’d had broken bones, burns, cuts, stab wounds…. you name an injury, Annabeth Chase had probably experienced it. 

But this was a different kind of hurt, a hurt Annabeth hadn’t felt in a long time. Her head was pounding. Her mouth was drier than the Sahara desert. Her muscles ached, and even the soft sheets and pajamas she was wearing felt like knives on her skin. Despite being under a mountain of covers, she was shivering, bitterly cold.

There was no doubt about it. Annabeth was sick. 

Annabeth never got sick.

She groaned, sitting up. That turned out to be a bad idea as a wave of nausea rolled over her, and she lowered herself back onto her pillows, falling the last half of the distance. She felt Percy shift beside her, woken from her movement. 

“Hey,” he said, the smile fading quickly from his face as he saw her own expression, which was probably nothing short of miserable. “What’s wrong?” 

“I feel like crap.”

She surprised even herself with how horrible her voice sounded, raspy and dry. Percy frowned, reaching out and touching her forehead. He normally ran hot, but now his fingers felt cool against her skin, almost painfully so.

“You’re burning up.” he said, frown deepening. 

“I’m freezing.” Annabeth croaked. As if to prove her point, she shivered involuntarily.

“That’s the fever talking.” Percy said grimly, “Hold on.”

He climbed out of bed. His warmth left with him, and Annabeth was left just that much colder, trembling under the covers. Percy couldn’t have been gone more than two minutes, but it felt like an eternity. 

When he returned he was holding a thermometer and a glass of water. 

“Temperature first. The water might mess with the reading.” He said, apologetic. She wanted to hate him for that because she was so thirsty she thought she might die, but she knew he was right. 

Annabeth sat up slowly. Thankfully this time she just felt a little dizzy and not nauseous. The thermometer was cold and uncomfortable under her tongue, but Percy kept a steadying hand on her back, rubbing small circles into her shoulder with his thumb. With her oversensitive skin it almost hurt, but she leaned into the contact anyways. 

When the thermometer beeped, Percy traded it for the glass of water. Annabeth nearly downed the entire glass in one gulp. 

“A hundred and one.” he announced, flipping the display so she could see. The number was lit up in red, signaling that she did, in fact, have a fever. 

“I can’t be sick. I have class.” Annabeth said. Her voice was a little improved by the water, but she still sounded kind of terrible.

“Just email your professors and tell them you can’t make it.” Percy said, as if this were the easiest thing in the world. 

For him it probably was. He did his best with school, but he also wasn’t opposed to ditching class every once in a while and blaming it on a fabricated stomach bug, something Annabeth found absolutely abhorrent. She hadn’t missed one class in her entire college career, and she wasn’t about to start now. 

“It’s fine. I’ll just take some tylenol and I’ll be good to go.” Annabeth said. Percy gave her an exasperated look. 

“Beth. You probably have the flu, you can’t go to class like this.” 

“It’s just a little fever.” Annabeth protested. Really, she was already starting to feel better. It was just waking up that had been the hard part, and some ibuprofen would knock her headache and high temperature right out. Percy didn’t look so convinced, but what did he know.

“If you say so.” Percy said, crossing his arms over his chest. Annabeth looked at him suspiciously.

“You’re not going to fight me on this?” she asked. Percy just gave a shrug, though his expression was a stubborn one.

“Nope. You can go right ahead.” Percy said, gesturing his hand off the bed. There was no way he should be giving up this easily, but if he wasn’t going to argue with her, Annabeth wasn’t going to be the one to start it. 

She swung her legs carefully over the edge of the bed, glancing again at Percy. He gave her a go ahead look, so she did. The second she tried to put weight on her feet, her vision blacked out and her knees buckled. She would have fallen flat on her face if Percy hadn’t been waiting there to catch her. Her headache immediately doubled in intensity, and Annabeth groaned.

“Still wanna go to class?” Percy asked. He at least had the decency to sound sorry for her, even though making fun of her would have been just as deserved. 

“That was mean.” Annabeth complained. Percy lowered her back into bed, gently pushing her shoulder so she would lie down again. Annabeth didn’t need so much convincing this time. 

“It was the fastest way.” Percy said apologetically, brushing some hair out of her eyes “You would have fought me on it all day, otherwise.” 

Annabeth sighed, but didn’t deny it. She probably would have been unbearable. She probably still was going to be unbearable.

“How am I sick? I never get sick. I’ve never had the flu in my life.” Annabeth said. She glanced upwards at Percy, who was looking very much like he was trying to not say something. 

“What?” she asked. 

“Nothing.” he said quickly, but Annabeth knew his expressions better than her own, and she knew when he was holding back. 

“You’re thinking something.” Annabeth said accusingly. A smile cracked through his holding-back face.

“Should I not be?” he asked. 

“You know what I mean.” Annabeth grumbled. 

“Okay. I mean, I’m sure your immune system is very high-quality. I mean, it's yours, how could it not be?” 

“Stop trying to butter me up.” Annabeth said, but she couldn't keep a smile all the way off her face. 

“Who said I was buttering you up? I was complimenting your robust immune response” Percy said innocently, still grinning.

“Now you’re trying to distract me, but it won’t work.”

This was a complete lie. If he tried a little harder, it probably would work, and he knew it as well as she did. He caved anyways, which meant he probably did actually want to tell her what he was thinking. 

“Okay, fine.” Percy said, “I was just going to say, you spent most of your winters at camp, which is totally isolated from the outside world, which means you haven’t really had a real flu season since you were like seven.” 

“I went to boarding school.” Annabeth reminded him.

“Yeah, and you spent winter breaks at camp, or at your dad’s.” 

He neglected to mention that she had spent one such break kidnapped by Luke and forced to carry the weight of the sky, which would have proved his point further, but Percy was not so ruthless during little discussions like these that he needed to bring up every last piece of evidence. Annabeth envied that restraint sometimes. 

“Are you trying to tell me that my immune system probably actually sucks because it hasn’t been exposed to anything real since I was eight?” Annabeth asked. Percy bit his bottom lip.

“You said it, not me.” he said, with an apologetic shrug. Annabeth groaned again, rolling onto her stomach and shoving her face in her pillow. The sudden movement did nothing to relieve her headache; in fact it started pounding away with renewed vigor. 

“But I got my flu shot and everything.” Annabeth complained, “I wash my hands all the time.” 

“If you hadn’t gotten your shot you’d be feeling twice as bad right now, believe me.” Percy said. Between his ADHD-induced forgetfulness and his living in the city during flu season, Annabeth was inclined to trust him on that one. 

“What do I do?” she asked, turning her face halfway off the pillow so she could look at him again. The sympathetic look he was giving her did not make her optimistic for his answer.

“Drink a lot of water and wait for it to pass.” 

“That’s it?” Annabeth asked in disbelief. 

“And keep an eye on your temperature.” Percy amended, “If it goes over a hundred and three I’m taking you to the ER.” 

“Modern medicine is a sham.” Annabeth said. That elicited a laugh from him, at least.

“Go back to sleep. You can send your emails later.” he said, brushing a few stray curls behind her ear. 

“I don’t know if I can.” Annabeth said, and it wasn’t even a lie or her being stubborn. She was still freezing somehow, shivering even though she was under blankets again. 

In response, Percy crawled back under the covers, wrapping his arms around her. She snuggled into his chest, stealing his warmth, even though she knew she shouldn’t.

“You have class.” Annabeth protested. She felt his laugh, a sturdy vibration in his chest, more than she heard it.

“Not anymore. I’m probably just as contagious as you at this point.” 

Annabeth tried again.

“I’m going to get you sick.” 

“Maybe.” Percy said, not sounding particularly bothered by it either way. 

“But…” Annabeth trailed off. She didn’t want him to leave, but it also didn’t feel fair to keep him here, knowing she was probably condemning him to the same misery she was feeling now.

“Don’t worry about me.” Percy said, reading her thoughts, “I used to ride the subway everyday, I think I’ve had every strain of the flu known to man. And if you think I’m just going to leave you here shivering, you’re crazy.”  

“I guess I’ll allow it.” Annabeth mumbled, scooting a little closer to him. The shakes were finally starting to dissipate, driven off by Percy’s warmth. 

“Oh, you’ll allow it?” he asked. She could hear the smile in his voice, even if she couldn’t see it. 

“For now.” Annabeth said, though she had absolutely no intention of changing her mind, and he knew it better than she did. 

“Go back to sleep, Wise Girl.” Percy said, kissing the top of her head. 

“Fine.” she said, too tired to think of a good retort. “Seaweed Brain.” she added sleepily, for good measure. She felt him laugh again. 

It took a while, but eventually she managed to drift off to sleep again, curled up against his chest. 

#i had a shitty day at work so have some tooth-rotting fluff #percabeth #percabeth fic #percabeth fanfic #percabeth fluff #percabeth angst #pjo #pjo fic #pjo fanfic #pjo one shot #percabeth oneshot #Percy Jackson #Percy Jackson fanfic #percy x annabeth

[brendaaaa]

Tire Swings and Tuna Sandwiches (Max Mayfield x fem!Reader)

“I think...I think I’ll do it tomorrow,” she decided, making a note with her pencil.

“Tomorrow?” You ran your hands through your hair, exasperated. “But I was hoping to sleep in all day…” She snorted, “Geez, hon, I never said you had to come. Don’t be such a whiny-ass baby,” she said in ñ her typical overdoing-it fashion. “Woah woah woah, I’m not a baby!” You protested. “We’re starting high school this year, and if anything Steve says is true, we won’t get to sleep in at all. I want to get the z’s while I still can,” you explained. “Okay,” she shrugged. “Fine by me.”

“But!” You continued, “I’d rather spend the summer with my girlfriend.” Max’s lips puckered in a smile, “How sweet. Be at my house at six sharp tomorrow morning.” You grinned. You were a total sucker for your girlfriend and her drill-sergeant ways. She gave you a kiss on the cheek before grabbing her skateboard and heading for your bedroom window. “Don’t forget. 6 o’clock,” she reminded you as she clambered outside. “Bye love,” she blew you a kiss. “See ya,” you waved, and as soon as she was gone, you collapsed onto your bed, smiling. Such a sucker for Max. The next morning, your alarm clock called you up way too early, but you groaned and stumbled around anyways, getting ready for a day of work, keeping in mind you had Max to look forward to. You were running a bit late, and you biked as fast as you could to her place on Cherry street. She was waiting for you outside, sitting on her porch and eating a pop tart. You shivered slightly as you dismounted from your seat, it was a little bit cold outside, as it was still early morning. But the sun was just visible on the horizon line, and being mid-July, you knew it was going to get hot pretty quickly. “Hi,” you said, walking towards the house. Max nodded in greeting, finishing up the last few bites of her breakfast. “Billy’s gonna drive us to the junkyard. We’ll see if we can find a tire there.” “Oh,” you were slightly taken aback. “That’s...nice of him?” you weren’t really sure. Her stepbrother was the king asshole, and you weren’t quite sure of how to process the fact that he was giving his little stepsister and her girlfriend a ride somewhere. “Yep,” she nodded, popping the p in yep. “He offered, surprisingly. I think he’s trying to get some brownie points with my mom. I guess he thinks that she might spread the word to his dad that he’s being a good brother. I really have no idea,” she laughed.

“Hey!” You both turned to see Billy standing by his car. “You shits ready to go or what?”

“Yeah,” you both said in unison, walking across the lawn and squeezing into the passenger seat together. The car ride seemed to last a lot longer than you knew the drive actually was, what with Billy’s occasional awkward glances over at you two, and the fuzzy sound of the Dead Kennedys coming through the radio. Max kept shifting uncomfortably and the tension just got weirder when the car hit a pothole and you all flew up. Billy swore under his breath and swerved back into the correct lane.

You were relieved when he finally pulled into the junkyard, letting you and Max out. “You gonna walk home?” he asked, and Max affirmed that, saying thanks and shutting the car door. After he drove away, Max rubbed her hands together, looking around at all the options, and said “Let’s look for a tire!” You walked around together for a while, and once you thought that you found a keeper, but after flipping it over you realized that it was all crumbly on the bottom side. A couple hours passed, and seeing as you wanted to get home before lunchtime, you split up. Eventually it was Max that found the winner, hidden under an old refrigerator that had to be from the 1950’s. It was perfect, big enough for the both of you to fit in it together, and not too dirty or damaged. The real issue now was figuring out a way to get it back to Max’s house, because neither of you had quite thought that through before telling Billy not to come pick you guys up. Then you remembered that it was a tire, and tires were wheels, and you two flipped it up so that you could roll it home. It was hard work, and for the twenty five minute walk, you and Max took turns pushing it. You got some strange looks, two teen girls pushing a giant tire around, but you didn't really care. You weren’t goddamn Ms. Stacy Popular Albright, anyways. It was brutal especially as the sun rose higher in the sky, and the temperature rose. Hawkins got really hot in July, sitting at round 95 degrees as early as ten o’clock in the morning. It was no wonder really that Max wanted to get up so early. But, eventually, you both made it home, with the tire still in good shape. You guys on the other hand? Both soaked through with sweat and your hands were blackened by the ever so slightly melting rubber of the tire, but you were in good spirits. When you got to the house, you left the tire outside and went indoors, collapsing on her couch. Mrs. Mayfield made you some tuna sandwiches while you sat watching MTV and drinking coke, wishing her house had air conditioning. The various plug in fans around the room helped a little bit, but not as much as you would’ve liked. “Hey,” Max said suddenly, through a bite of sandwich, looking over at you, her face sunburned. “Hey,” you grinned at her, regretting your decision to sit criss-cross applesauce, as your legs were sticking together with sweat and it was gross. “Do you want to actually build the swing tomorrow?” she asked, grinning slightly. “You mean not have to go back out into that heat?” You raised an eyebrow, liking the sound of this. “Hell yeah!” “Sweet,” Max licked her lips and took a drink out of her can, gesturing to her face, “I don’t think this beautiful face deserves to get more skin cancer from the sun.” “Yeah,” you agreed, “you’re probably already guaranteed a fatal case of it because of all that sun you got in California.”

Max scoffed, “No I haven’t.” You smiled, “just teasing Max. Love you.” You went back to your sandwich, which was amazing. Mrs. Mayfield bought the best tuna, from this little deli that your family refused to buy from. They got fresh shipments from the coast and with Max’s mom's recipe, it was more or less gourmet. You didn’t even notice you had said it. In your head you were told Max that you loved her all the time. You ran through scenarios. You thought to yourself, god, how I love that girl. You were so consumed eating your lunch, you didn’t notice Max’s shocked expression. She was frozen, cheeks pinker than they already were. She thought it was slightly concerning that you had so little external reaction to the huge thing you just said aloud, but she also found that sorta cute.

So she leaned over, gently touching your chin, and tilted your head to face her, where she pressed a kiss to your lips. “I love you too,” she smiled.

Wait what? I love you too? You thought. Did I? Oh shit...

Word Count: 1268

#max mayfield #max mayfield x reader #max mayfield imagine #stranger things #mad max #maxine mayfield #wlw concepts #gay gals #summer loving #imagine

[akaashigiri]

Sleepy Jaegers

summary: eren and y/n are at a gathering at armin’s place, and their 2 year old is exhausted. eren is equally as exhausted.

pairing: dad!eren jaeger x fem!reader

word count: 1.69k

warnings: none, fluffff

a/n: sigh my baby fever possessed me to write this 💔 might make armin a father as well if people end up liking this one (i will anyway) 😋

These gatherings were almost like a ritual to the group.

There wasn’t ever a specific place they met, they would always gather in different places, wether it’d be the beach, a park, or at one of their homes. It didn’t matter where it took place, just as long as everyone was there. Everyone was obligated to come.

So of course that includes the littlest Jaeger.

It was mid September, and although the weather wasn’t bad at all, some didn’t really feel like going out to public places like the local park, so the group decided on Armin’s new place, since Sasha and Annie still have yet to see it (their homes are farther from the rest)

They were all gathered in the spacious living room; Jean and Sasha on the long couch, while Mikasa and Armin sat on the smaller one. Historia and Ymir shared the beige-colored chair in the corner of the room, while Annie sat on one of the kitchen stools as she watched Y/N and Connie do the dishes (Armin insisted, but the two almost threatened him if he were to touch a dish).

As soon as Eren walked in, he all but restricted anyone from sitting on the big beige reclining sofa, claiming that he deserved it for helping Armin pick it out. Eren was grateful for going to Ikea that day with Armin to pick out the sofa he was now slouched on, recliner out and all. It was now his favorite spot in the whole house (besides the kitchen, since he loved playing around with the smart refrigerator).

As Y/N passed another dish for Connie to rinse and dry, she suddenly felt a tug on her pants, looking down to meet the tired eyes of her daughter.

She was quick to rinse and dry her hands to pick her up, giving all of her attention to the little girl. “Aw, what’s wrong Mimi? Everything alright?” She asked, already noticing the fatigue on her face.

She only snuggled into her mother’s neck, giving her the simple response of, “Tired.” Her vocabulary was fairly short, due to the fact that she was only 2 and learned her words from the ones around her (Eren got in big trouble the day Y/N heard the word ‘shit’ come out of her daughter’s mouth).

Y/N wasn’t surprised she got tired easily today, since Jean gave her more candy then Y/N would usually allow. And with the way her, Ymir, and Mikasa were running around in the yard earlier today, Y/N already saw this coming.

“You’re tired?” she asked again, earning a nod from the crook of her neck. “Okay, mommy’s almost done. Go sit next to daddy until I finish, okay?” She tells her, moving her head back to face her daughter again. Myra nodded, allowing her mother to put her down.

Walking tiredly, Myra slowly moved through the kitchen and made her way to the living room, spotting her father laidback in the corner of the room, limbs sprawled out on the sofa.

Eren wasn’t sure if it was the father instincts, but he was the first to notice her presence in the room, stopping the ghost story Jean swears is real to bring his full attention to his daughter.

“Mimi’s come to save us, everyone!” Eren exclaims, throwing jazz hands up as everyone joined and cheered her on for simply walking in. Jean didn’t like what Eren was implying, but clapped nonetheless.

“You’re not funny. Aren’t dads supposed to tell good jokes?” He questioned, attempting to steal a fry from Sasha’s plate, but failing miserably as she only swats his hand away.

“No Jean, I think it’s the other way around, they’re supposed to be corny.” Armin butts in, watching with a smile as Myra finally starts walking towards her father.

Eren could already see the fatigue on her face, holding his arms out for her once she got a little closer. “What’s up Mimi, you tired?” Eren questioned, laughing as she instead of answering, simply lifted her arms up for him to take her.

She responds with a nod, her hair falling over her face as she was lifted onto his lap. As soon as she was situated, she wasted no time in making herself comfortable, wiggling out of her dad’s grasp and laying her stomach down on his, her head right above where his heart was.

“Nevermind.” he sighs, making the whole room burst out into laughter. This only made Myra whine, the loudness distrupting her attempt at sleeping. “Sorry Myra!” Sasha whispered, finally giving a fry to Jean afterwards.

“I wonder what got her so tired.” Annie questions, making Jean sink into the couch out of guilt as Eren sends him an irritated glance.

“Jean went and gave her a sugar rush before we got here. It was absolute hell.” Eren’s eyes furrow in frustration as he remembers earlier today and how hard it was for him to catch a nap without his energetic 2 year old jumping all over him. All while Jean was happily eating lunch with his wife.

“Okay, but I didn’t know she wasn’t supposed to have that much candy! Kids eat candy like crazy, right?” He attempts to defend himself, looking around the room for support, only to be met with silence.

“Yeah, thing is she’s not a kid! She’s a toddler! Dumbass.” he mumbles the last part, hoping that Y/N somehow wouldn’t hear. But she always found a way how.

“Can someone please slap Eren for me?” She yells from the kitchen. “Stop cursing in front of Myra!”

Eren has no time to defend himself as volunteers step up to do what their friend asked, but Mikasa was the quickest, and Eren was even quicker. He swiftly grabs Myra’s frog blanket from the bag sat beside him and hids his face in it, saving it from the harsh blow of Mikasa’s hand.

“You’re lucky I didn’t miss completely, I just don’t wanna wake Myra.” she confesses, walking back to her seat.

“God, I cant believe we almost named her after you.” Eren groaned, blanket still clutched in hand.

“Mimi’s close enough for me.” She smiles, noticing the way Myra starts to squirm a bit. “Throw the blanket over her, I think she’s cold.” She suggests, bringing Eren’s attention back to the little girl on his chest.

Eren is quick to unravel the rather big blanket from his grasp and take it in both hands to bring it in the air, watching it fall perfectly onto her small figure. The blanket basically covered his whole torso, the end tickling his neck a bit.

“Thanks again for the blanket, Historia. She loves it so much, a little too much.” he says, feeling his daughter move under the blanket so that her little arms were wrapped around his torso as far as she could go. “She won’t use the one I got her anymore.” he says with a slight frown.

The group laughs again, but quietly this time, not wanting the little girl to possibly wake up in a fit.

“I wouldn’t blame her, to be honest.” Jean shrugs, giving Eren a knowing glance, as well as a sly smirk. He knows how mad Y/N would get if he were to disobey her, especially a few minutes after she scolded him. Since Y/N was only a few feet away, Eren aggresively sticks his middle finger up to the man. It’s not like Myra could see through the blanket anyway.

“Are you gonna finish your ghost story, Jean?” Annie asked, although she didn’t believe a word. She just wants to see him make a fool out of himself.

Jeans eyes light up, snapping his fingers together as he sits upstraight again, ready to go into full detail once again. “Right! Okay, okay, so right when I went to shave my beard...”

Eren let’s Jean’s apparent ghost encounter story fade in the background, focusing on the shallow breaths coming from his daughter. He felt himself getting a little drowsy himself, as if her sleepiness was seeping into him.

He doesn’t waste time lifting the blanket a bit to wrap a protective arm around her small figure under it, adjusting his posture on the sofa and crossing his ankles over one another. His let his neck sink into the back of the couch, letting his head go as well so he facing the ceiling. With the warmth of the blanket and the little girl under it, he couldn’t help but close his drowsy eyes as well, finally giving in.

A few minutes pass and Jean is done telling his story, but of course, no one believes him. All except Historia. “Thank you, Historia! See I’m telling the truth. Morons.” Jean rolls his eyes at the way Armin and Sasha curl up as they laughed, Mikasa and Annie trying their best to hold in theirs.

Jean soon notices the person who would’ve regurlarly had the most to say was being awfully quiet. Getting ready to scold him for not listening, Jean is met with a site he has to admit, is the cutest thing he’s seen all year.

Eren was deep in slumber, soft snores coming from him and the little girl that rested as peacefully as he did on top of him. The print of his arm around her could be seen through the green blanket, as well as both of their steady breaths. They looked so comfortable, it would be a pain for them to get up soon, which they would have to eventually.

“Awww, they’re adorable!!” Historia exclaims from the other side of the room, which seemed to catch Y/N’s attention all the way from the kitchen.

“What’s happening? Is something cute happening? Someone take pictures!” She exclaimed, wanting to abandon the plates and take them herself, but thinks that would be rather rude to leave poor connie alone.

“On it!” Sasha and Jean say in unison. Both are quick to pull out their phones, Jean getting the more unappealing angles, while Sasha actually put some effort into it and snapped a few photos.

These were being sent to every single person on her contact list.

this was written at like 2 am sorry if there are typos i swear i reread 💔

also i’m currently working on a mob fic idk if ppl still like those but i most definitely do so watch out for that one :p

hope y’all liked this one lol

-aysha <3

#yes i headcanon that armin has a smart refrigerator #eren asks y/n if they can get one all the time but the answer’s always no cuz they don’t need it #so eren is over at armin’s mostly for his fridge #should’ve wrote this is 2nd pov but oh well💔 #aot #aot imagines #aot imagine #eren jaeger #eren jaeger imagines #eren jaeger imagine #dad!eren #parent au #modern au #aot headcanons #aot fanfiction #aot anime #mikasa aot #armin aot #sasha aot #jean aot #connie aot #annie aot #ymir aot #historia aot #attack on titan #aot x reader #eren jaeger x y/n #eren jaeger x reader

[julek]

read on ao3

“Geralt?”

Jaskier moved closer, his footsteps echoing down the stone hallway. The Witcher was sitting down, his hands in his lap as a thoughtful look crossed his face. He looked adorable, admittedly, brow furrowed and white strands framing his face, which was burrowed into a woolen blanket.

“Hi, love,” Jaskier said softly, and climbed onto Geralt’s lap as he opened his arms in invitation. He gently traced Geralt’s cheeks, pink from the cold wind howling outdoors. “You look... transfixed. Did Lambert try fishing with bombs again?”

At that, Geralt smiled, a soft, small thing, pink lips curving up. His cold fingers traced nonsense patterns on Jaskier’s back, even though layers and layers of warm fabrics stood in his way — sometimes, it was about feeling Jaskier’s skin against his, the touch grounding and pleasant; sometimes, it was about occupying his hands for the sake of doing it, no plans or intention.

“Ciri and I trained earlier this morning,” he rumbled, his voice rough.

Jaskier hummed, his nose brushing Geralt’s hair. “I know. I heard her swearing all the way to the library.”

“Hmm. She gets frustrated.”

“That she does.”

“She’s getting good. Real good. She just can’t see it, I’m—” Geralt’s frown deepened, his mouth twitching like the words wanted to escape him. He closed his eyes and breathed out, once, twice. “She’s really good. I wish she could see that— how far she’s come.”

“Mm.” Jaskier pulled back, only a little, to catch a glimpse of that amber gaze. “Have you told her?”

“Hmm?”

“What you think— have you told her? How far she’s come, how proud you are of her?”

Geralt narrowed his eyes, almost a subconscious thing, and Jaskier could tell he was turning the idea over and over in his head. Jaskier tucked his head in the crook of the Witcher’s neck, then pressed a small kiss over his pulsepoint. He felt Geralt relax against him, if only a bit.

They stayed in each other’s arms for a while, comfortable silence surrounding them, Geralt’s hands running across the bard’s back, Jaskier humming a quiet melody as the hearth rumbled and firewood cracked, sizzling noises filling the air.

“You know,” Geralt murmured against Jaskier’s hair.

“Yeah?”

Geralt shifted his weight on the armchair, pulling the blanket tighter around them both. Some minutes passed, and Jaskier didn’t push, didn’t press — he just waited, knowing the words would come when they’re meant to, if at all.

“She called me ‘Dad’, the other day,” Geralt whispered, and he sounded embarrassed, somehow, his voice thick. “‘T was a slip of the tongue, she— she didn’t mean it. We’d been sparring, and she kept getting frustrated and wanted to quit. Then snow started falling.”

Jaskier found his hand, buried under the blankets, and squeezed it softly.

Geralt smiled, his cheeks flushed a gentle pink. “And Ciri was so tired and miserable, and I was getting impatient too, and I just— I took some snow in my hands, and made a ball, and just— covered her in it. She was furious.” He let out a small laugh. “‘T was war, she said. And we kept throwing snow at each other. She started running, at one point, and I chased her around the courtyards.”

Jaskier felt tears gathering in his eyes, delighted by the story, and by the sentiment Geralt’s voice carried.

“Ciri was laughing so hard by the time I got her, and she didn’t care that her hair was white and her fingers had gone numb,” Geralt continued. “She was so happy, Jas. I— I had never seen her like that. So carefree and happy, like any child should be.”

He took in a deep breath, pressing their foreheads together. Jaskier grinned, his eyes closed, as they breathed in the same air. “We were laughing together,” he said. “And then we stopped, and everything was still for a second, and she said, ‘that was so fun, Dad’, and— she sounded so happy, so... alive. She hugged me.”

Jaskier felt a tear slip down his cheek. “Geralt.”

Geralt looked at him, so open and vulnerable, and his thumb gently wiped the tear away.

“Of course she meant it,” Jaskier said, and his voice cracked. “Of course she did.”

“I don’t know, Jas, I don’t— This is so hard on her. Everything. I don’t want to pressure her into anything she doesn’t want.”

“You’re so lovely, Geralt,” Jaskier murmured against his cheek, and hugged closer, his heart breaking a little. “You’re such a good man, so honest and humble and good— she adores you.”

“Hmm.”

He meant it — he’d seen it firsthand. The first week Ciri spent in the keep, Geralt had made sure she felt comfortable, showing her around and encouraging her to ask questions and wander the grounds whenever she felt like it. He’d train with her in the mornings and, after they all had lunch together, he’d accompany her to the library, where she and Vesemir would sit for hours on end, surrounded by books and bestiaries and ancient stories, all under the Witcher’s attentive gaze. Late at night, after dinner but before the wolves turned in for the night, Geralt would walk her to her room, then stay for a bit to tuck her in and listen to her talk — long conversations about her past, Cintra and her family, or small remarks about her findings in the keep, a hunting trip with Eskel or an alchemy lesson with Lambert. Geralt listened intently every time, and remembered every detail she’d shared with him. He worried about her; sometimes, late at night, Jaskier would wake up to find him sitting outside on their balcony, a foreign expression on his face and a steaming mug of tea between his hands. He cared for her endlessly — he loved Ciri.

Jaskier brushed a kiss against his forehead, warm and loving, and was about to bury his face back into Geralt’s neck, when a soft noise made them both look up.

Ciri padded into the room, her hair mussed and sleep still tugging at her eyes as she rubbed them with the back of her hand. In the firelight, she looked even younger, her rosy cheeks and soft woolen socks the most perfect picture of pure innocence. As she moved closer to them, Jaskier saw it, the worn fabric of Geralt’s cloak, draped over her shoulders like a cape and dragging across the floor, too large to fit her body. He looked at Geralt and saw his own expression mirrored on his face, if only more intense — adoration, raw and blatant, pouring from his eyes, a smile curling on his lips.

“Ciri?” Geralt called, one hand stetched out for her. “What is it?”

She moved closer, entwining his fingers with Geralt’s, so different yet so similar; pale hands that were slowly becoming more calloused and hard as they gained experience. “Fell asleep in the kitchen, by the fire. Vesemir wanted me to tell you he needed help with dinner.” She yawned. “Also grumbled something about you being lazy, but I told him we trained hard today, and he frowned, but said it was okay. That we could be lazy today.”

Geralt huffed a laugh, and Jaskier shifted so Ciri could sit on Geralt’s thigh, too. “Hmm. Good, then. Wouldn’t want to laze around without his permission.”

Ciri wrapped her arms around Geralt’s neck, and rested her head on his shoulder, firmly fighting sleep but losing. “Hmm.”

Jaskier snorted, and swatted playfully at Geralt’s side. “Oh, Geralt, that’s all you. She did not even know how to ‘hmm’ before she met you.”

“Hmm.”

He shook his head in fond exasperation, and leaned back, just a bit, to look at them in earnest. He watched as Geralt now traced small circles on Ciri’s back, her body tucked into his side as she snored softly, a small smile on her face. Geralt looked so content, so peaceful, so at home, Jaskier’s heart ached in his chest, pride and love fluttering in his stomach. They deserved it — every bit of peace and quiet, every moment of tenderness they could get, they deserved them all, and even more.

“You’re being sappy in your head, I can tell.”

Jaskier clicked his tongue. “I’m being sentimental— there’s a difference, thank you very much.”

Geralt leaned back, his head pressed against the chair, and closed his eyes with a content rumble and a knowing smirk on his lips. “Hmm.”

“Don’t know why I put up with you and your nonsensical grunting, really. Must have been dropped on my head as a child.”

“Must’ve been.”

Jaskier gasped with mock outrage. “You horrible, horrible Witcher. Don’t know why I bother.”

Geralt cracked one amber eye open. “Because you love me.”

“Hmm. Yet further proof I was most definitely gravely injured as a child,” Jaskier replied, with but there was no bite to his words. “I’ll go help Vesemir with dinner— someone must, if you’re to stay here and simply laze.”

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” Geralt said, teasing. Jaskier let out a small laugh and leaned down to kiss his forehead once more, then brushed Ciri’s hair back from her face. He took his hand back, but Geralt stopped him. “Thank you. Truly. I love you.”

Jaskier’s chest seized, and he smiled, smitten. “I love you, too. Very much. Now sleep, I’ll come wake you both when supper’s ready.”

“Okay.” Geralt leaned back. “Please don’t burn the keep down.”

Jaskier grinned, and looked back at him before shutting the door. “No promises.”

#mywriting #geraskier ficlet #geralt x jaskier #ciri the witcher #winter at kaer morhen #yes i wrote this at 2 am with nothing but two concepts. yes it's soft. yes i love them very much