#but I seriously don’t know how the duck to figure it out so at this point I am ignoring it

[ivykim]

QUESTIONABLE THINGS IVY HAS SAID

VIDEO START ▶️

“if cats have nine lives, why do jungwon and jay only have one.”

it was in the middle of Manifesto tour where each of them had their own separate rooms. ivy was going mental and bored out of her mind so she decided to turn on a live.

someone commented about jay and jungwon being adorable cats.

“jungwon and jay are adorable. they’re like newborn kittens.” ivy reads off the comment. she hums.

“that’s true. they’re adorable but something irks me.”

“if cats have nine lives, why do jungwon and jay only have one.” she asks in a genuine and questioning tone.

— philosopher vivi working overtime

“we love a sexy barbeque man.”

there were a series of knocks and ivy singing ‘do you want to build a snowman’ outside of sunghoon’s door. it was late at night so ivy did it softly. after all, they finished their concert like an hour ago.

after jay opens the door, ivy joins the live and waves to the camera. jay and sunghoon went on about how tan jay looks compared to sunghoon.

“you look like a good fried chicken.” ivy says.

“what?”

“we love a sexy barbeque man.” she does those chef kisses. the two boys never understood what was going on in ivy’s head.

— i want whatever drugs she’s on

“you🫵🏻 come over here👇🏻 WRIGHT☝🏻 NAOW😤.”

with jungwon zooming around and having a lot of energy, ivy couldn’t fully focus on reading through the ENGENEs comments.

she was really trying. as she reads, jungwon zoom pasts her trying to find a way to lose his high tension.

“you🫵🏻 come over here👇🏻 WRIGHT☝🏻 NAOW😤.” she tells jungwon in English, sounding like a mother scolding her child. jungwon runs back around and sits next to her like a good boy. they continued their live properly.

— aww mama duck vivi

“WHATS WITH THE SKINNY BAMBOO LOOKING LEGS?? COULDN’T THEY HAVE GIVEN OUR DARK MOON CHARACTERS MEAT??”

when the dark moon WEBTOON came out, ivy was curious about the story so she decided to go ahead and read out loud during the live. as she scrolls through, she notices the characters not having much figure.

“what the-” she looks at the characters and then the live and then back at the characters.

“why are they so skinny?”

— engene: “so we’re not the only ones that think that?”

“definitely but oh my god. someone feed the poor vampires- oh sorry for sooha I meant non-vampire. she’s not a vampire everyone. don’t misunderstand.”

“actually, I have to complain to HYBE. why in the world are they so skinny and where in the hell is my character.”

— engene: “oof ivy popping off💅🏻💅🏻”

“WHATS WITH THE SKINNY BAMBOO LOOKING LEGS?? COULDN’T THEY HAVE GIVEN OUR DARK MOON CHARACTERS MEAT??” the passion as she says so.

— passionate vivi. she protects and attacks🤺

*stares at bird* “he would probably make a good source of protein.”

ivy was busy staring out the window. she was bored. waiting for their turn at Inkigayo for their Sweet Venom recording.

“noona, what are you doing?” jay asks as he comes up behind her with a camera.

“looking out the window.” she lays her head against the window and shuts her eyes a little. “I wanna sleep.”

“same. now would be a good time to sleep, I’m dead tired.” jay says.

her stomach grumbles a little. “urgh, now I’m hungry.” just then, a bird had perched onto the ledge in front of the window.

“god, the things I’d do for some chicken.” jay groans. ivy points to the bird and stares at it.

“he would probably make a good source of protein.”

jay has never whipped his head so fast. it’s almost like he would get a whiplash. “HE WHAT?”

— you know she’s crazy when jay looks at her weird

“crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room, a room with sunghoon, and sunghoon makes me crazy. crazy-”

ivy was busy reading a few comments since she was bored and didn’t exactly know what to show the ENGENEs. she was seriously trying to think of a content she could do to engage the audience.

“mmm, do aeygo?” she deadpans at the camera. “sorry, I’m not an aeygo master. you can ask sunoo.”

that is until she decides to pull one aeygo out of nowhere. she easily gets embarrassed. “okay, okay, no more. I look like a goblin doing aeygo.”

“where is sunghoon?” she reads out loud. “he’s probably at the dorms. he finished his schedule for the day.”

“does sunghoon make you crazy? huh? you mean in what way?”

“in general?” she thinks for a second, “crazy? I was crazy once. they locked me in a room, a room with sunghoon, and sunghoon makes me crazy. crazy-”

ENGENEs were commenting thinking ivy drank soju before doing the live.

— not her following that one meme😭😭

“sometimes in life you just have to life.”

ivy was basically doing her normal thing. reading the live comments and also entertaining ENGENEs.

“do you ever feel like a plastic bag.” she reads off the comment. “yes, everyday. i wanna drift through the wind and i want to start life again.”

“noona, are you drunk.”

“I’d like to know too. Maybe this tea has alcohol inside of it but no, I’m not drunk as far as I know.”

“what do you do when life doesn’t go your way.”

“deep question. I like it.” she sighs, “sometimes in life, you just have to life.” she makes a sad face, wiping her fake tears.

“it’s true, that’s how life works when it doesn’t go your way.”

– oml philosopher vivi strikes again

“even if you don’t succeed, just fail.”

in yet another solo live she did, she had basically gotten viral for making these ‘inspiring’ quotes. multiple people praising her because she can make up this true story-comedy quotes.

“unnie, make more inspiring quotes.” she hums at the comment. “give me something you want me to make a quote out of.”

she skims through the various comments, “ah, mmm. you failed a test? I’m so sorry about that.”

“umm, even if you don’t succeed. just fail. studying isn’t everything. you can always try again!”

– I’m gonna kiss her. she’s so perfect

“I’m a sunbae??? THEY ARE HOW OLD??”

with illit debuting, enhypen was finally a sunbae. they had hoobaes under BELIFT Lab now and so ivy heard about them. the boys were just talking about it during the backstage video.

“we are sunbaes now.” jake says.

“mmm.”

“and they are younger than ni-ki. I believe the average age is about 18.6.” jake continues. Ivy hums again before she processes what jake was truly saying then she practically whips her head over.

“I’m a sunbae??? THEY ARE HOW OLD??” she says in shock.

– the cultural shock ivy experienced.

Ivy: turning 23 this year

Iroha: turning 16 this year

*outro of video plays*

PART 2?

#enhypen #enhypen 8th member #enhypen extra member #ivy #enhypen girl member #ivy kim #enhypen x oc #enhypen added member #kpop added member #kpop oc #enhypen imagines #enhypen imagine

[writing-fanics]

don’t mess with the devil

Part ii

Lucifer Morningstar x Reader

[warning: angst: mentions of death: death?]

Your movements became sluggish. The wound on your side bleeding more and more with each movement, and swing of your angelic weapon. “Can’t even hold a weapon.” Adam mocked, as she glared at him. Already tired and she looked down at her wound. “Who would’ve thought a fucking human, making a deal with the devil.”

“Was it for dick? It was for dick wasn’t it?” Adam laughed, and mocked. You let out a battle cry flying towards him.

You screamed in pain, as the yellow light shot right through your wing. Your wings started going weak, as you struggled to keep up with Adam’s attacks. He laughed and cackled, taking enjoyment in your struggle.

“Where’s your little boyfriend huh?” He mocked, as more and more yellow shots kept hitting your body. Until you could barely keep your body up, “awe, is he not coming to scared to show his fa-”a fist punched, Adam in the face. Causing him to let go of your chin, but you didn’t fall instead.

A pair of familiar arms held you, “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t be here sooner,” said Lucifer, as he nuzzled his head against his partner. Then lifted his head and glared at Adam, eyes fuming with rage.

“Sorry, for being so stubborn.” You mumbled, knowing this was the reason he didn’t want you to fight. Even though, he gave you some of his powers. You were still a human. He nuzzled, his head against yours once more. “It’s okay,” He said, as he landed on the rooftop.

He handed you off to Charlie, his daughter taking your injured body into her arms. She looked down at you worriedly, as you took shallow breaths. Your face battered cuts and bruises covered your face, and your right eye was swollen. Landing on the rooftop, walking towards Adam.

“Huh? Okay? Seriously?” Adam panted, as he stood up slowly. “How many of you freaks do I have to fight?!” He shouted, glaring at them.

Lucifer rolled up his sleeves, as he walked towards Adam. “Oh, I’m the only one that matters.” said Lucifer, as he looked up at Adam angrily.

“See, you messed with my daughter and my partner.” his eyes burning with rage. “and now I’m toning to fuck you!” he shouted, and everyone went silent as they stared at him dumbfounded.

Charlie leaned over, “It’s fuck you up dad?” Charlie whispered, and he looked confused as he raised his eyebrow, “Wait what did I say?” He said, and then Adam flew towards him sending them both into a wall. But Lucifer transformed into a white snake.

You could barely keep your eyes open, as the pain became worse. You didn’t know how much blood you were losing, but knew it was a lot. You were just a mere human, a human who fell in love with the king of hell. Him inevitably giving you some of his power in an act of love.

Your memories of how you ended up in Hell, a blur. You still figuring out a way to at least see your family again. But now that seemed to be in vain. You wondered if this was how it was going to end for you. You wondered, what would happen to you a human dying in hell?

Would you be dead forever no second life? Or would you just enter purgatory?

“So, this is what you’ve been up to since Eden?” said Lucifer, taunting him.

“Gotta say, you really let yourself go buddy.” He said, as he taunted Adam.

Adam laughs, as he grabbed Lucifer by the tail. “You judgin’ me?” He shouted angrily, as he tried to throw him. But he transformed again, this time into a duck. “You’re the most hated being in all of creation.” Adam shouted, angrily looking at him.

“Well, your first wife didn’t seem to hate what I had to offer.” said Lucifer, as he made a V shape with his fingers and dragged it downward from his mouth.

“or the second.” He said looking Adam straight in the face, “Bow-chicka-wow-wow.” He said, as he backed away making a thrusting motion with his hips. Adam lunched at him, and Lucifer transformed into a horse. Kicking him around, “I’ll fuckin’ end you!!” Adam shouted.

Your vision started to blur, as you leaned your head against the wall You didn’t want to die not like this, not without seeing your parents again. Wondering if they’re worried about their missing child, who they haven’t seen in almost a year.

You’ve been stuck in Hell for that long. Lucifer and You, still figuring out a way to get you back. But you always promised that you’d stay in Hell with him, and visit your friends and family once in a while.

Maybe this was to be your fate, dying in Hell. Where would your soul go? You couldn’t imagine the heartbreak your death would bring to both, Charlie and Lucifer. You couldn’t bear the thought of seeing them cry, you’ve grown to love them so much. Seeing Charlie as a child of your own.

Lucifer your partner. The best thing to ever come out of being trapped in Hell. He was so kind and caring, when he found out about your situation. Wanting to help you anyway he could, which led him to falling in love. How his heart swelled whenever you smiled at him, turning his cheeks red.

How seeing you cry made his heartache, knowing you missed your family and friends back on earth. How when that ‘Red Bastard’ at the Hazbin Hotel, took your hand and kissed him while staring mockingly at Lucifer. Boiled his blood.

A smiled grew across your lips, as you grew tired. You were too tired to even notice the beam of light, heading straight towards the hotel. Towards you. Everything went dark.

Y/n?

Y/n?

Y/n!

who’s calling my name?

#lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar x reader #Hazbin hotel x reader #lucifer hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar #lucifer imagine #Hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #x reader #fanfic #angst #headcanons #romance #Hazbin hotel x you

[gh0stsp1d3r]

Please please some dating luke as percys sister and him finding out about you two when he sees you both in cabin 3 🙏🏼🙏🏼

This is how I find out?

omg I love this.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Warnings: Brief making out, getting caught making out,, secret relationships, Luke never turned, reader and Luke are like 2 teenagers in love

“I don’t hate him- I just hate not having the place to myself anymore, you know?” You spoke to Luke. “He’s a good kid.”

He nodded, carrying his lunch tray. “At least it’s not like mine..” he shrugged, giving you a small smile.

“Yeah, I would run away.” You laughed, and you both sat down across from Percy.

“Hey, Percy.” You both said in unison, and Percy mumbled a hi. You noticed him staring at something behind you guys, rather someone.

Luke quirked an eyebrow and turned to who he was looking at Clarisse.

“You don’t think she still has something to do with it, do you?” Luke said, turning back to Percy.

“I don’t know.” He said, “That’s what I’m trying to figure out.”

You and Luke glanced at each other for a moment and then you sighed, looking at Percy. He looked at you back now.

“Don’t let it bother you so much. You finished the quest.”

“I know but-“

“Percy. Stop. Worrying. So. Much.” You’ve only known him for a few days, but he seemed to be anxious, a lot.

He didn’t say anything, and stared down at his food with melancholy etched on his face. Once lunch was over, you and Luke stood up, and Percy went over to Annabeth.

“You’re definitely his sister.” He said with a small laugh, you both walked into the forest and you intertwined your hand into his.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because, you just met him like what.. a few months ago and you’re very protective of him.”

“I am not…”

He gave you a knowing look and you rolled your eyes. “I’m like that with everyone.”

“I know. It’s part of why I love you.” He teased with a small smile on his face.

“Stop being corny.” You smiled.

“Can’t help myself.”

You both walked for some more time, before you had to go back for the bonfire. You let go of his hand, and found a seat in the back of everyone.

After a while, he leaned over and whispered to you.

“You wanna go to your cabin?”

You quickly nodded, you both ducked down and slowly made your way to the cabin.

“How do we get away with it every time?” You asked him, sitting down on the bed.

He shrugged. “We’re probably breaking about 4 rules right now.” He laid down, arm over his head, and you smiled, curling up to him and laying on his chest.

“You may not be in another God’s cabin.” You mocked Chiron.

“You must be at the bonfire at all times.” He mocked him, with a laugh.

“No dating.”

“What’s the fourth?” You asked.

He smirked, craning his head and capturing your lips in a kiss.

You both moved around and sat up now, you began to straddle his lap, you held his face in your hands, and his hands were on your hips.

You both were so caught up in the kiss, neither of you realized Percy standing in the doorway until he cleared his throat. You jumped off of him, standing up and dusting yourself off.

“Percy!” You laughed nervously. “Did the fire already end?”

“Seriously? This is how I find out?” He said, looking at you both back and fourth.

“We wanted to tell you, but we couldn’t. Dionysus would have our heads on a stick.” You said.

Percy sighed, moving to his bed.

“How long have you guys been dating?”

“Almost a year now.” Luke said.

“Jesus… just, don’t keep any more stuff from me, please?” He said after a little.

You both nodded, and Percy spoke up again “And don’t do any of that in front of me.”

#luke castellan x you #luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #pjo tv show #pjo #percy jackson #charlie bushnell x reader

[deadghosy]

“Why do you even care about me?”

“Because I don’t want to mess up again.”

FLUFF

PLATONIC! LUCIFER MORNINGSTAR X CHILD! READER

You died by your father choking you out in your sleep. Apparently he thought you were the devil himself as you were emotionally unstable. You couldn’t feel emotions but only pain from your peers and the person who you should trust. A person who is suppose to take care of you.

As you walk around hell, a few demons look at you confused to see a child at the age of 8 walking around. You stumble against a leg of a black boot. With a little “ump” you look up rubbing your head to see the man of hell himself, Lucifer.

Before you know you it, you got adopted by the man as he could sense no sinful aura around you. He knew it couldn’t be possible for a youngster to be in hell. He could see your cold eyes that you didn’t know how to feel. So being the duck obsessed man, he made you multiple rubber duck that resemble you and him like a family. He even made you a rubber duck that glows in the dark just incase you don’t like the dark. 

YOU LAY THERE holding the big rubber duck that glows a soft golden light as you snore and nuzzle it. Lucifer peaks through your bedroom door to see you snuggling the duck he made you. He smiles at that putting a hand to his heart. “Such a cute little duckling I have” he says to himself watching you peacefully. He closes your bedroom door as he walks to his workshop to make you more ducks to your liking.

One time you had slapped a rubber duck out of his hands making him pout but make you another as you still slapped it out of his hand. He sighed giving up looking down defeated, but he felt a small figure hug him to only see you hugging him. He guessed he was the one you liked to hold at times.

Charlie absolutely loves you! She finds you hard to talk to, but she makes an effort as you grow close to her as she is protective of her. She likes how you show affection through actions than words as it is said, “actions speak louder than words” and you stuck by it. She shows you around the hotel and the hotel staff loves you. Alastor and Lucifer fight over dad figure even though it’s clear you Love Lucifer more than Alastor which makes Lucifer pick you up and shove you in the radio demon’s face with a smug smile as he laughs at him.

“HA HA MY KID LOVES ME THAN YOU! SUCK IT!”

One time though, you were kinda cautious of the powerful man of hell himself as he tried to talk to you after it’s been a week. He didn’t know why you flinched from him with a dead stare. He soon realized you didn’t overcome your past of now. He sighs as he heard a tiny voice towards him.

“Why do you care for me?” You said in a soft voice as you fidget with your hands

Lucifer eyes widen at your cute little voice. He cleared his throat as he cups his hands together looking at you seriously.

“Because I don’t want to mess up again.” He says towards you

That was the last he said to you as y tears seep through your long lashes as you hold the rubber duck he gave you when you first came into his palace. And that’s all it took for you and him to grow close with another.

You had him and he had you.

#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader #lucifer #lucifer morningstar x reader #lucifer x reader #child reader #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel headcanons #hazbin hotel x child reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazb

[primofate]

Confessions Series - Part 1: Overheard [Genshin Impact Male Characters]

Note: Welp I had the itch to write again so here I am. Though sleep deprived because baby keeps waking up every 3 hours to feed... I wanted to do this haha. Based on @soulprompts “I love you” prompts. What other character should I do?

Warnings: haven’t written in a while please excuse and tell me about pronoun slips, I’m sleep deprived, not proofread, some are just concepts of liking someone, having a crush on them, while some are full blown love confessions. SOME ARE ANGSTY, chose only the male characters I wanted to write for instead of forcing myself to do all of them.

Characters: Aether, Albedo, Alhaitham, Ayato, Cyno, Dainsleif, Diluc, Itto, Kaeya, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader  

Other works in this series: (Part 2 - Description)

Scenario: Talking to a friend about how you feel about him. Unbeknownst to you, he was listening, hidden round the corner. What does he do?

Aether

“He’s sweet,” You simply answer when asked what you like about Aether. “I mean, he’s a simple guy. He’s not a mystery, it’s not hard to read him nor to get along with him. I guess that’s one of the reasons why a lot of people like him.” 

“Uhuh,” your friend drawls, their head lazily resting on their hand. “but you don’t just like Aether. You seriously LIKE him,” 

You’re rendered speechless by the statement for a second, tripping over your first words, “Well--I mean--” and as if realizing you’re making a fool of yourself by speaking in garbles, you recover. “Yeah, I guess...” You don’t know why you admit to it, but it’s not like your friend didn’t already know.

What he does:

Is tempted to immediately walk up to you and reconfirm the conversation.

Stops himself for a minute and replays the whole conversation in his head, probably once, twice and maybe a third time.

Second guesses himself, but when he finally goes through all possible options, he realizes there’s no mistaking the overheard confession.

All the while, Paimon is nagging him to go talk to you. “You didn’t hear wrong! Stop thinking too much, hurry and go!” Ends up being pushed out into the open by his flying companion.

“Erm...Ahem” he coughs into his fist. “I...didn’t mean to eavesdrop...Y/N, sorry, but... can we continue this conversation somewhere else? Somewhere...a little more private?” and the shy smile he gives you is a tell tale sign that he had most likely felt the same.

Albedo

“His schedule is always busy. He has his hands full with Klee, on top of all the work he needs to do,” was your excuse to your friend when asked why you haven’t confessed to the alchemist yet. “I don’t think Albedo has time for this type of thing, you know? He doesn’t need a distraction.”

What he does:

His logical side agrees that he doesn’t need a distraction.

But the other part of him doesn’t mind if its you.

Pauses for a moment, thinks about it for a second, before confronting you about it just minutes later.

“...Schedules can be made flexible, Y/N,” you jump at his sudden voice. “Just as distractions...can sometimes be a good thing,” Albedo stretches a hand out to you. “...Care to test how good of one you can be to me?” 

Alhaitham

“Y/N, Alhaitham is FAR from stupid. There’s no way he hasn’t figured out that you have a crush on him,”

“Shush!!” You swerve around to your friend, ducking a little, as if that would help you become invisible. “People could be listening, besides, if that’s true, then it’s even worse. It means that he knows, and probably has no interest in me, so let’s just forget about it, ok?” 

What he does:

..................................No he doesn’t know. Sure he’s smart but............he could be dense when it came to these things. That, or he just didn’t know what to do.

Does not confront you about it immediately. In fact he turns around and walks away without being spotted, opting to think about his next steps instead of just rushing into the conversation.

Lo and behold a few days later he’ll show up in front of you with his usual stoic expression.

“Y/N,” he starts, and you freeze on the spot, looking up at him, blinking. 

“Y-Yes?” You haven’t seen nor heard from him in days and as usual, you attributed it to him being busy. Little did you know that he had been mulling over how to talk to you.

“I heard your conversation with (your friend) the other day,” straightforward was his answer to everything, even in this particular situation. 

It takes you a few seconds to internalize his words. You’re not even sure which conversation he means. You talk to (your friend) a lot. Your brows start to furrow in confusion, until he clarifies. 

“...I wouldn’t say that I completely have no interest in you,” he starts, and your shoulders tense up, now realizing which conversation it was. You could feel your cheeks start to burn, all you wanted to do was run away. 

Alhaitham holds back a sigh, “...Anyway, here is no place to talk about this... I’ll meet you at Puspa Cafe tonight, if you’re free,” 

You’re FAR from stupid too, and knew exactly what he was trying to do.

Ayato

“Besides why would the Lord Commissioner even look at someone like me?” you hiss at your friend who was trying to persuade you that Ayato also had the hots for you. It just seemed a little delusional to you.

“He takes the chance to rile you up every time he sees you. He’s obviously doing it on purpose,” your friend counters. You roll your eyes up to high heaven.

“He does that to everyone...” you conclude, knowing that Ayato had the habit of--though you don’t know if intentionally--giving his servants a scare. 

“Alright, alright, you don’t have to be so jealous,” your friend quips back, you send them a quick glare before going back to doing your own work.

What he does:

Doesn’t even bat an eye. Smirks as he hears the whole story. 

Confidently reveals his presence to the two of you, chuckling.

“Jealousy doesn’t usually paint a beautiful colour,” he starts, the overly pleasant smile on his face. You straighten up immediately, eyes changing into saucers when you realize he had heard the whole thing. You open your mouth to explain, but he beats you to it.

“But I must say it looks a little different on you, Y/N, almost charming,” The side of his lip quirks up the slightest bit into a subtle grin. You bite your lip, there he is again trying to rile you up, maybe (your friend) was right. 

“...Is there anything I can do for you Lord Commissioner?” you ask, trying to stray away from the subject. He only chuckles. 

“You’ll find that there are a LOT of things you can do for me, Y/N. Start by accompanying me to tea, hm?” He wasn’t really asking, it was almost a command. 

You wished your friend snickering on the side would just shut up.

Cyno

“...He’s a little intimidating don’t you think? I don’t know why you like him so much,” your friend comments, slacking off on their pile of paperwork. You roll your eyes at them. 

“Maybe because he works hard, unlike other people,” you shake your head a little. 

“As General Mahamatra he’s supposed to work hard. Just admit that you have weird tastes.” your friend counters, still procrastinating on their share of work.

“Okay, so what if he’s a little vicious in his ways? He’s just doing his job. Now, it would help me if you started doing yours as well,” 

What he does:

Doesn’t know what to do.

Stands hidden for quite a long time. The subject has already moved on and away from him.

Torn between revealing himself now or later. 

Can’t think properly so exits from the situation and comes back later that same day, when you’re still working with your friend.

As he approaches your table, your friend notices him first. (Your friend) nudges you with their elbow, tilting their chin up to let you know that someone was approaching. 

You pick your head up, and feel yourself go rigid when you see that it’s Cyno. At first you think to yourself that he might not be here to talk to you, maybe he’s just about to walk by...but he stops in front of your table and you’re left to wordlessly look up at him.

There’s a moment of silence that seemed to stretch on forever.

“...I value the high praise that you give me,” he starts and you immediately want to duck under the table and hide.

He heard. 

“O-Oh, G-General Mahamatra, you heard that...It’s...nothing, hard work deserves to be praised...” you avert your gaze down to the papers you were working on, pretending to continue and be busy with them. 

There was an awkward pause, your eyes darting up towards him for a second, checking if he was still looking at you, before breaking away again and furiously flipping through papers.

“...Do you want to play some TCG?” 

“Huh?” You end up with an incredulous look on your face, trying to gauge if he was serious. His face is still blank, but the usual tenseness in the way he carried himself gave way for a barely seen relaxation. It was hard to spot, but it was there. 

You ended up sighing a little in what you could only describe as relief, giving him a lopsided smile. “Sure, but go easy on me, I haven’t played in a while,”

“That’s fine. Perhaps a daily practice session will do you good,”

Dainsleif

“Mysterious, aloof, disappears into thin air... A man like that? You probably should stay away, Y/N. You don’t know what he dabbles in,” (Your friend) warns, looking at you with genuine concern. 

“Perhaps he has some secrets...but I don’t think he’s a bad guy at all. I’ve spent some time conversing with Dainsleif here and there,” you continue to wipe the tables, not noticing that the man you were talking about had long entered the tavern already and was now standing behind the two of you.

“At least he’s handsome, there’s that,” (Your friend) adds. 

“Sure, but that’s not the only reason I like him,” you laugh.

What he does:

Wonders if he heard the conversation right and overanalyzes what you mean by “like” him.

Either way it stirs a strange emotion in him, one that he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

Prefers to get things over with and thinks there’s no harm in confronting you immediately.

You hear someone clear their throat behind you. Thinking that it was a customer you turn around with a pleasant smile, only for it to slowly dwindle down into a shocked expression.

Dainsleif.

“Y/N,” he nods his head towards you casually. You gulp, force a smile, and nod back. “Hi, you’re early today,” just as your friend slips away from the conversation. Dainsleif doesn’t even spare them a glance.

He doesn’t have much to say about your comment of him being early. He doesn’t particularly know why he was early today either. Perhaps...fate would have him hear the conversation between you and (Your friend).

“Yes, well, it looks like there were benefits to being early today,” he meets you eye to eye, the intensity in his gaze almost makes you blush from your neck all the way up to the top of your head, but you fought the giddiness back. 

“...What can I get you?” there’s a shiver that threatens to run up your spine, wondering if your deflection was successful. Dainsleif closes his eyes momentarily, before opening them with a strange sense of courage. 

“Your company,”

Diluc

“It’s been years,” (Your friend) says, the two of you looking up at the massive oak tree of Windrise. They glance at you from the side of their eye before continuing. “Are you still in love with Diluc?”

There’s a breeze that passes, almost melancholic, and partly whispered of sorrow. “...I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving him.” You pick your hand up to rub at your arm. “Jean, Kaeya, Diluc and I...So many things have changed since we were kids...but I don’t think that spot for Diluc will ever go away,”

“Does he know, at least?” (Your friend) asks and you half scoff. 

“I’m not sure, I get the feeling he does, but doesn’t act on it. Which is why...maybe the only way to solve this emptiness is to leave Mondstadt altogether.” 

“Out of sight, out of mind huh?” (Your friend) claps your back, and turns around to start walking away with you.

What he does:

Internally a mess of emotions. Doesn’t know where to start. 

but he’s just standing there and he’s stuck watching (your friend) and you turn around to come face to face with him. 

He looks at you, a wave of memories and emotions flashing through his mind all at once, it almost overwhelms him. 

“D-Diluc,” you stutter, heart freezing in your chest. You see him take a steadying breath in, prying his gaze away from you and over to (Your friend).

“(Your friend), could you give us a minute?” he asks. (Your friend) obliges, passing you a quick glance before going ahead on their own. Another breeze runs by, ruffling his long red hair. 

“...I didn’t mean for you to hear that,” you start, and yet he doesn’t say anything, prompting you to continue talking. “...You don’t have to think about it too much, it’s just silly--”

“I wasn’t sure,” he cuts you off, eyes drawn to the ground now. “I wasn’t sure...if you really felt that way.” 

The statement somehow exasperates you. “You weren’t sure? All those times I stayed by your side when everyone else left--” then it hits you. “Or were you scared, Diluc?”

The quick grimace in his expression tells you the answer. His reply comes a few seconds later, “I was, I still am,” but he picks his head up, and finally looks you straight in the eye. “...but this time...” his fists clench on his side. “This time give me the chance to show you how much I really care about you,”

He was not going to lose you too.

Itto

“Seriously?! Itto? Arataki Itto? Are you for real?” (Your friend) announces to nearly half of the food stall, the other customers swerving around to look at the two of you. 

"Oh, say it a bit louder why don’t you?” You roll your eyes at your friend and continue eating.”

“Sorry. I just--Out of all the people you could choose, your huge crush is on that big brute??” your can tell by the look on your friend’s face that they think you have weird tastes.

What he does:

Butts in without even thinking of the conversation. Has no clue what’s going on.

“Crush?!”

You and your friend startle, swerving around to see none other than the oni with his hands on his hips. “Y/N?! You planning on crushing me?!” then he guffaws with laughter, slapping his knees in the process. “Yeah right, you’re no match for me!”

Your previously gaped open mouth slowly closes and your shoulders relax, sighing. You’re a little disappointed he doesn’t get it at all. Your friend shakes their head with a long sigh. “You stupid oaf, we don’t mean it that way...” 

Itto’s head tilts sideways, a genuinely confused look on his face. “No? Then... Watcha all talkin about?” 

You grab your friend’s arm and pull them forward the slightest bit. “It’s not important! Actually, we better get going--”

“Y/N has a CRUSH on you, idiot! Y/N LIKES you!” Your friend explodes, patience long gone. 

Itto blinks at the confession, his eyes darts towards you, “...Oh,” then there’s the slight tugging at his chest, he can’t help but beam and smile silly. “Yeah? You’re not too bad yourself Y/N! I like you too!”

You’re not sure if he really understood the confession in its entirety. 

Kaeya

“It’s all just fun and games with Kaeya. It doesn’t mean anything,” you laugh sheepishly, yet you rub the back of your neck a little.

“...Do you want it to be just fun and games?” your friend chides, and there’s a moment of silence. The two of you just sitting there already knowing the answer, it’s almost uncomfortable, until your friend sighs. 

“...Let’s change the subject,” 

What he does: 

responds immediately. Will not wait a second longer to come out of his hiding place and ask about what he just heard.

“How about let’s not?” Kaeya emerges out of nowhere, slipping into the seat next to you at the cafe. His poise is confident and instantly his head lazily places itself into the palm of his hand, gaze lingering at you. 

“Snowflake, I had no idea you felt like that,” his voice is smooth like ice and you bite your lip to keep yourself from saying something stupid.

“...I didn’t say anything though?” you countered, trying to evade the conversation. Your friend watches on with interest. 

“Silence speaks volumes, Y/N,” Kaeya scoots even closer to you, your shoulders touching each other. However, he maneuvers his arm around to lay on the seat behind you. “So if you’re opposed to what I’m about to do, better speak up,”

He leans closer, inch by inch, he waits for you to say something.

You stay silent.

He grins.

Scaramouche

“Hat guy? He’s brutal. But who am I to comment on your tastes, Y/N. You’ve always been weird,” (Your friend) chides, watching as you go over the bookshelf again. 

“Stop calling him that,” You murmur under your breath, more focused on finding the right book for your research. “That’s not his only distinctive feature, you know,” you continue, still engrossed in looking for a book.

“Oh? What else are his “distinctive features”?” (Your friend) drawls, rolling their eyes. 

You hum a little, then plop on the ground cross-legged, wanting to get a better look on the last row of books of the Akademiya’s library. “...His eyes,” you simply answer. “They’re a beautiful shade of violet-blue...He’s always glaring at someone half of the time but he actually has very pretty eyes,” 

There’s silence and you finally get the peace you need to concentrate. However, that silence is broken by a voice that you know all too well.

What he does:

is amused.

thinks its cute pathetic.

will still look angry but will have a hard time actually being angry.

will be cocky.

“My eyes, huh?”

It’s hard to completely turn around in your sitting position, so you do the best you can to turn, side eye landing on Scaramouche’s form. He has his arms crossed as usual, but there’s a smug smirk on his face. “Didn’t know it was that fascinating to you, bookeater,”

It was supposed to be an insulting nickname for you, who always had your nose in a book, but you took no offense to it at all.

You didn’t know what to say, so you continued staring at him. He being the anti-social person that he was, just stared back. There was a big gap of silence before he felt that it was becoming too awkward. 

“...What’re you looking for?” he blurted out.

“...A book...”

“Are you stupid? Of course you’re looking for a book. I meant what’s the title?” There his usual sneer was back again and he unfolded his arms to look at you unimpressively. 

“...A History of Inazuma: Volume 2...” you meekly replied, slowly realizing that he actually heard you praising him.

“You’re in the wrong section,” the exasperated sigh he gives out causes you to wince, and you turn away back to the bookshelf as if to shield you from all this embarrassment. 

“If it’s about Inazuma, you should just be asking me,” you blink as your peripheral catches sight of an outstretched hand. You tilt your head to see that he’s offering his hand, but his face is blank.

“...Well? Come on. I don’t have all day,”

You bite your lip to keep yourself from smiling, something about the way he said it sounds threatening, but also slightly playful. But that’s just the way he was. 

You accept his hand, and he pulls you up easily.

Xiao

“Oh so that’s why you’re coming over more frequently...” (Your friend) grins, and you wave your hands around to tell them to quiet down. Adepti had good hearing after all.

“Well, I’m also coming over cause Verr Goldet needs more help these days in the kitchen. You guys are getting so much customers these days that Yanxiao has a hard time by himself,”

“Uhhuuhhhhhh, sure...was it also Verr Goldet who told you to try and master the Almond Tofu recipe from Yanxiao? Cause you’re awfully hell bent on trying to learn that recipe, according to Yanxiao,” 

You fall silent, feeling heat crawling up your neck. “I--” You start, searching for an excuse, but realized there was no escaping this one. “I just want to do something nice for Xiao, that’s all,” you innocently quip. “I...I know I can’t help him much, but maybe just cooking his favourite dish will help, even a little,”

(Your friend) smiles a little, knowing that the adepti probably heard everything. “That’s nice of you, Y/N. You must care about him a lot,” 

What he does:

once upon a time he would do absolutely nothing. because getting involved with humans is something he shouldn’t do.

But now he bides his time, and observes if it’s safe to open up. 

He wouldn’t outright thank you at first, but he’ll slowly show up in front of you a little more everyday.

He’s rather awkward, so at first he only nods his head as thanks when you leave the bowl of almond tofu on the ledge.

Eventually when he realizes you’re not going to stop cooking for him he goes the extra mile to do something simple for you too.

He places a stalk of your favourite flower on the ledge, right before you come to put down his bowl of almond tofu. 

I’ve published The Ruthless Prince (Reader x Scaramouche) on paperback. Check it out here:

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#alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact #diluc x reader #genshin impact angst #genshin impact fluff #scaramouche x reader #cyno x reader #ayato x reader #genshin impact fanfiction

[loveinhawkins]

Steve knows that it’s Eddie from the way the RV door sticks awkwardly before it opens, which makes him smile. The guy can break in and hotwire the thing, as smooth as you like, but then apparently turns into a klutz as soon as the pressure’s gone.

Eddie doesn’t notice that he’s inside at first, seems more focused on tying a few makeshift spears together with string so they don’t fall about the place. It’s only when he looks up, does a double take and says, amused, “Sorry, didn’t realise I was interrupting something,” that Steve remembers he isn’t exactly cutting a fine figure right now.

To put it bluntly, he’s currently hunched over, sat at the little table, eating canned frosting with a teaspoon.

“What are you even…?” Eddie sits down opposite him, peers closer and sees the label on the can. “Harrington,” he says, like someone reading out orders of execution, “that’s fucking gross.”

“Hey, I found it sealed in the cupboard, it’s not expired. And it’s chocolate, man,” Steve defends.

A pause. “Can I have some?”

Steve laughs. “Sure.”

He finds another teaspoon, moves the frosting so it rests in between them. Smiles when Eddie knocks their spoons together, like they’re sharing wine instead.

They sit in comfortable silence. Steve has the sudden thought that if it wasn’t for the impending everything, he could pretend like it’s a lazy Saturday, where they’re free to do harmless, juvenile things, like just watching movies all day. Like sharing frosting out of the can.

“God, you’re so unbothered by all this, aren’t you?” Eddie says around his spoon, which makes Steve suspect that perhaps their thoughts aren’t exactly aligned at the moment. “Steve Harrington. Mister Cool.”

He says it softly, a little like Robin had—and Jesus, Steve thinks, did everyone in school have such an idea of him?

“Unbothered, meaning?”

Eddie shrugs. “Alternate dimension. Real life monsters. Uh, I dunno, the potential end of the world? Take your pick, man.”

Steve thinks for a little while, scrapes the bottom of the can repeatedly even though they’ve already eaten it all.

He doesn’t know how to say that over the years, fear has become normal, a reassuring background noise. It’s when he doesn’t feel it that he’s really, truly scared shitless.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Steve says, “I think we all just got so used to it, that—”

“Yeah, that doesn’t make me feel better,” Eddie interrupts with a huff of a laugh. “If I think about it for too long, I might actually cry for you all, Steve.”

“Nah, don’t do that,” Steve says lightly—though he thinks that a part of Eddie really means it. “It’s more like… like I’m a duck, y’know? Calm on the surface, but…” He drums on the table in demonstration. “Freaking out underneath.”

Eddie’s looking at him with a little smile Steve thinks he hasn’t quite seen before—almost like he’s charmed.

He wonders just how many smiles Eddie Munson has. Wants to have enough time to find out.

“And you’re like an upside down duck,” Steve says, matter-of-fact.

Eddie snorts—another smile, wide and bright. “Excuse me?”

“Like, you might think you’re freaking out on the surface, but underneath, when it comes down to it, you’ll be…” Steve moves his hand in a straight line, imitating a duck calmly gliding along.

Eddie shakes his head. “Think you’ve got too much faith in me.”

And sure, it’s said like it’s a joke, but Steve holds his gaze when he replies seriously, “No, I don’t think so.”

You think I’d trust Dustin with just anyone? I saw you pull him back from the edge of the lake. That’s all I need to know.

Eddie glances away almost like he can see Steve’s thoughts dancing in front of him, as if the honesty is too much to witness.

“Plus you’re, like, my guide for what’s a normal reaction to all of this shit. You’re good for us, man. Keeps us grounded.”

Eddie laughs again. “Christ, I’m the guide for what’s normal. God help us all.” He drops his spoon into the empty can with a clatter. “It’s getting late. We’d better, uh. Round up the troops.”

He stands up, shuffles out from the table.

And Steve finds himself standing, too, with the sudden fear that he’s watching a window close before him.

He reaches for Eddie’s wrist—just two fingers, barely a touch—and Eddie turns to him immediately.

“Hey, Eddie, you’re—you’re good with them, y’know? The kids.” Steve laughs quietly. “God, they’d be… scared far sooner without you. When you were messing around with Dustin, and… Jesus, it’s the most I’ve seen Max laugh in a… in a while.”

Eddie’s smile turns gentle. “Nah, man. Any fool could do that.”

“No,” Steve says.

No, don’t you get it? Only you could. We’re all… we’re better with you, happier with you. I wouldn’t want to do this with anyone else. Please fucking understand how important you are.

You matter.

Eddie’s eyes flicker across Steve’s face. Like he’s understood without Steve having to say a word.

“Careful there, Harrington,” he murmurs.

Steve’s suddenly aware that he still has one finger on Eddie’s wrist. “What?”

Eddie stares at him. Shrugs with one shoulder, but it’s slow. Thoughtful.

“Just thought I’d get ahead of you, in case…”

“In case?”

“I don’t know,” Eddie says, abruptly sounds a little breathless. “Could be the end of the world, right? And you’re…” He glances over at the frosting can, smirks slightly. “You’re kinda under the influence. Don’t want you saying anything you wouldn’t mean in any, uh, normal circumstances.”

Fuck normal. This is my normal.

“And what if I meant it?” Steve says.

Eddie swallows. Calm on the surface.

“If you’re sure,” Eddie says slowly, eyes never leaving Steve’s face. “Then… go ahead.”

Steve steps closer.

Kisses him.

Eddie’s mouth tastes sweet from the frosting. Steve can feel it when he laughs, can feel him shaking from where he’s leaning up against the edge of the table.

He pulls back. “You okay?”

Eddie’s smile is tremulous, like he’s one second away from crying.

“Freaking out,” he says, but he pulls Steve in for another kiss, so Steve knows he’s not referring to…

“Yeah,” Steve admits. “Yeah, me too.”

Eddie laughs breathily, and the sound is enough to finally drown out the background buzz of terror. He’s so close Steve can count every eyelash.

“You’d never know, Steve.”

“Think this—” A last kiss, pressed to the corner of Eddie’s mouth. “Think this is the most scared I’ve ever been.”

“Me too,” Eddie echoes.

And just before he pulls Steve along, just before he opens the RV door and calls for everyone, he leans in close, whispers against Steve’s lips:

“Worth it.”

#forever compelled to write missing scenes before the battle. on a missing scenes kick in general thqh ❤️ #steddie #steddie ficlet #steddie fic #steve x eddie #steve harrington #eddie munson

[bcyhoods]

🎤 VOCALIST ── send in a character + any prompts in this cool tag or a lyric prompt of your choice for a blurb (remember to tell me which list the prompt is from!)

dreamy (from different types of kisses) + angel baby steve <3

— ivy / @inkluvs

i am realizing now how difficult kisses are to write smoothly lolz. hopefully this is okay <333 | 1.3k gn!reader

“You know, I don’t think you’re actually supposed to aim for my toes when we do this.”

Your head falls to his chest in resignation, a groan of equal sentiment dying out in the cotton of his shirt. Even though his subsequent laughter is genial and bright, your face still burns against him. You’re sure if you stayed there any longer that the searing heat of your cheek would leave a discolored patch on the garment.

“You are such a jerk, I’m trying my best!” You argue, pulling back with your eyes squeezed shut and nose facing the wall to avoid his gaze.

He watches with a wide grin as your expression twists in embarrassment. And though he can clearly see that your eyes are closed, he still ducks and tilts his head to make sure they’re level with his own. His stare is stuck on your eyelids, frantically darting between the two to see if you’ll give him the pleasure of opening them any time soon. He laughs again when he sees your timid smile before you pull your chin to your chest.

“How am I the jerk? I’m the one with a broken foot, here.”

As dramatic as he is, the words carry no real annoyance. He’s fine; his foot is intact and he’ll most certainly live. Still, your palm grows sweaty where it’s clasped with his.

It was a silly idea that he’d proposed. Well, enforced to be more accurate. An off-handed comment — a little muddled by a handful of popcorn in your mouth — about having two left feet made him spring up from the couch and offer his hand. He was absolutely determined to help you practice slow dancing, hyping up his adequate sense of rhythm and decent coordination.

And he’d looked so eager, with fluffy hair and old clothes for pajamas, smiling down at you with a fondness that made it impossible to refuse. You take up his offer with little hesitation, figuring it would be easy enough. Plus, it might be worth it to be this close to him for a while, and he’s thanking you for it in his head.

But a couple of scratchy, romantic records later, and all you have to show for it is an imprint of Steve’s big toe on the sole of your sock-clad foot.

While he’s red in the face from laughter and joy, frustration is pulling the corners of your lips into a frown. Because what should be a romantic scene is a little more difficult for you than you want it to be and you might be getting in your own head about it. Admittedly, you’re taking it a bit more seriously than he is.

“I promise I’m trying,” you mutter under your breath, barely audible as you stare down at your feet to make sure you don’t step on him again.

His brows crease in concern at the change in your demeanor. “I know,” he answers softly. When you don’t look up at him, his arm tightens around your waist to pull you against his frame. A reassuring squeeze is sent to your hand before he’s toying with the promise ring on your fourth finger, smiling as he recalls the matching one on his own. He finishes with a deeper cadence, still just as gently, “I know. I was just messing with you.”

There’s a beat of silence between you before he sighs and halts your swaying completely. He smooths his hand up your back, leaving a line of fire across your spine with his blunt nails until they end up at the nape of your neck. Meanwhile, the hand that’s wrapped in yours is guided to his torso, prompting you to hold onto him there instead. All for the greater purpose of cradling your face in his hands.

He knows you too well. A promise of love shines in his eyes as they catch the subtle annoyance hidden in the creases of your face. The softness of his smile, his touch, is a manifestation of that promise and it has you taking a particularly hefty breath to calm the chaos in your chest.

“Hey, you’re doing fine. Promise. Stop worrying that pretty little head of yours.” He looks you in the eye the entire time, rubbing his thumbs over your cheeks to emphasize his final point. And maybe being this close to him was a bad idea because you’re afraid your knees are going to buckle at his attentiveness.

And the fear becomes even more prominent when you spot his eyes dip down to your lips just for a split second before returning. You can feel your heart jump into your throat and the gooey smile being pushed onto your face before you can restrain it. He mimics the same expression, as if it’d be any help to your current state. You’re so out of it, you barely hear him ask, “Wanna keep trying?”

“You make me nervous.”

He blinks. “Me? Why do I make you nervous?”

“Dunno!…’Cause you’re, like…you’re looking at me like that,” you try to explain. It comes out in between nervous laughter, pushed out through teeth glued together in a smile only he can seem to cause. And he decides to take full advantage of it.

“Hmm. Like what?”

His brow raises suggestively before inching closer to you. His mouth just hovers over yours, tauntingly tickling your skin with a smug grin. You swallow down your nerves, nudging his nose with the tip of your own.

“Like…”

You push closer, puckering your lips against his in a kiss that’s barely there. Tenderness seeps through his fingers as they cup your jaw, and scratch the nape of your neck to elicit a sigh from you. His breath hitches at the sound and he’s pushing into the kiss out of poorly constrained excitement. His lips drag slowly, like he’s savoring the taste of you and committing it to memory. He all but whines when you’re finally pulling away for air, resting your forehead on his.

His lips are slick and kiss-bitten, face flushed and ears bright red. His chest is heaving and his eyes are closed in bliss. He looks wrecked and you’re not doubting that you look the same, but looking at him like this makes your stomach flutter.

You giggle, this time a more deliberate sound. “You’re distracting me.”

He huffs in disbelief and pulls back to look at you. You can feel his hands grow warmer in your skin with each passing second, the blush on his face deepening. “You’re distracting me! I’m supposed to be teaching you.”

“Well, you’re not doing a very good job,” you wince playfully, nudging his wounded foot.

As if it were possible, his smile widens and an airy laugh reverberates in his chest. “Yeah, cuz you’re looking at me like that.”

He dives in to capture your lips once more and hums at the contact. It’s notably more difficult this time around, your smiles getting in the way as your teeth clumsily scratch against each other. But it doesn’t stop either of you from pressing on, lips locking and clicking with every ebb and it makes your fingers twist into his tee. He pulls back with his lips comically puckered and placing them on your forehead for one final kiss.

“You're fine. You’re gonna get it, hmm?” He looks at you expectantly and you just about melt in his arms. It’s a silly thing, sure, but he sounds so sure, so confident in you. And his brown eyes are wide and teeming with ardor. You nod, a huge grin on your face.

“Let’s just hope you’re not in a cast by then.”

#incapable of writing short thing sorry <3 #i got. invested in the slow dancing part. #ᝰ cece’s scribbles #ღ 300 celebration ! #steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington hc #stranger things fluff #stranger things blurb #stranger things fic #steve stranger things

[ddejavvu]

pairing: aaron hotchner x reader

contents/warnings: single mom reader, bau!reader, brief mentions of typical cm violence, mutual pining, coworkers to lovers (no arc completion)

based off this post

You’ve been held at gunpoint. You’ve been beaten, battered, and bruised within an inch of your life. You’ve been threatened, harassed, and abused. Yet there’s no fear as debilitating as what you’re feeling now, when you look around the crowded room and can’t find your toddler anywhere. 

She knows not to run off. As much as you withhold from her about your career, her tiny ears unprepared for the horrors you face, you’ve told her a thousand different ways not to leave your side. And she’d been doing so good, her little pudgy fist clasped in the fabric of your dress until midway through your conversation with Emily. You’d reached down to feel her pigtails after she’d dropped your dress, content that she was still there even if she wasn’t holding onto you anymore. And yet, here you are, childless and panicking.

You start ducking into open rooms, figuring that she wouldn’t have shut the door after her if she was wandering into them. She’s nowhere to be seen, though, you don’t catch a glimpse of her black-ribboned hair or her blue-dotted dress.

Your shoes hit the scratchy carpet with urgency, and you feel many-a-head turning to face you. You don’t feel like explaining, though, not when your little girl is loose in a government building.

Government buildings are no place for children. Too many people have guns, and, though they won’t be turned upon her, she’s more than likely to be morbidly curious about one left lying around and end up worse than seriously injured. Or she could get into an elevator and lose herself among the maze of floors and desks. Or she could walk straight out the front door into traffic. Or she could lock herself in a bathroom stall. Or she could stumble upon photos she shouldn’t be seeing, crime scenes and corpses strewn about less child-friendly areas of the place.

Or, you find out, as you head for Hotch’s door, intent on pleading with the man’s parental instinct to aid you in your search, she could be dancing with your boss.

She could be on her tip-toes, ruffled socks bunched up around her ankles and mary-janes toeing Aaron’s sleek black work shoes. She could be stretched all the way to his waist, her arms hung above her head as she grips one of his thick fingers in all of her tiny ones. She could be grinning up at him, baby teeth on full display as her hair bounces to the beat of the song he’s making up. You’ve never heard him hum before, nor have you seen that fond of a glint in his eyes, but he’s beaming down at her, a happy little tune flitting through the air from his throat. He’s jutting one foot out after the other, tie swaying against his chest as he gives your daughter the dance of her, admittedly short, lifetime.

Neither of them have noticed you hovering just outside the crack in the door, and she looks down just in time for one of her shoes to slip from his own. Her weight goes with it, but he holds steady to her hands, pulling her upright until she can latch her foot onto his again.

“Woah!” She gushes, giggling with exhilaration. 

“Woah,” He parrots, “Are you okay?”

“Yes,” She nods, a slight lisp invading her words from her pacifier habits, “You’re strong, Uncle Aaron.”

“Well I have to be,” He muses, and though he’s no longer humming, the song lives on as he continues moving their feet in sync, “Just in case someone needs protecting.”

“I think mommy needs protecting sometimes,” Your daughter decides, and your cheeks grow hot at the mere mention of yourself, “She runned into my backpack yesterday and tripped!”

He doesn’t correct her poor grammar, nor does he point out that she was probably the one to put her backpack in a less-than-ideal place. All he does is raise his eyebrows amusedly, nodding at her statement.

“Well, maybe you could start protecting her.”

“How?” She stares up at him skeptically, unsure why the man is insinuating that a three year old can be so heroic.

“I think you should put your backpack somewhere where she won’t trip over it,” There it is, the parental voice of reason, “Maybe on a chair? Or the couch?”

“I think you should do it.” She blazes past his suggestion, typical for a child who doesn’t understand responsibility for their actions. He seems to notice the cliche as well, chuckling mirthfully, “Alright. If I see any backpacks on the floor, I’ll save her from them. Deal?”

“Deal.” She grins toothily, squealing as he lifts her straight into his arms from only his grip on her hands.

Her legs curl effortlessly around his waist and you worry about her shoes staining his shirt, but you’d seen a grape juice stain on his tie only days before, and you remember that your kid isn’t the only one crawling all over Aaron. You rush down the stairs when they begin heading for the door, posing as if you’d just began your ascent by the time they swing the hinges open.

“There you are,” You try acting relieved, though the panic you’d felt only moments prior is long gone, replaced by sticky-sweet adoration, “What, did Hotch lure you away with candy?”

“Just my natural charm,” He defends, squeezing her where she’s curled around his hip, “And a dance move or two.”

“A dance move,” Morgan repeats teasingly from the other end of the room, a few downcast smirks shot from the rest of your teammates, “I don’t recall you ever teaching me any of those, boss man.”

“You’re too big to stand on my toes.” Aaron laments with a goofy smile towards your daughter, who giggles at the thought of her big, strong Uncle Derek balancing on Hotch’s feet.

“Well if we don’t visit Auntie Penelope soon,” You accept the arm that your daughter throws out to you at the mention of her bubbly godmother, taking her from Hotch’s strong arms, “I’m going to be given a very long lecture, and you’ll be given one less cookie than usual.”

“Only five?” She gasps in real, palpable terror, fingers clenching in the fabric of your dress once more, “Let’s go!”

The bullpen shares a chuckle at her dramatics, and Reid steps aside from where he’s aiming to ask Hotch a question at the base of the stairs. You’re crossing your own desk, intent on ducking into Penelope’s lair for a chat, when Hotch’s voice rings out across the room, urgent and strong.

“Y/N!” He doesn’t often use your first name, and that’s what gets your attention the most. You turn towards him, bewildered and hesitant to take another step.

“Backpack,” He points down at the floor where you’re about to step blindly, a tinkerbell-themed bag discarded in the middle of the walkway. You eye your daughter rather unimpressed, but her attention is focused solely on Hotch, who’s already engaged with Reid.

“Pick it up,” You groan, holding your daughter’s waist and angling her towards the floor. She giggles jovially at the headrush she receives from being held nearly upside-down, and her little arms reach eagerly for her belongings.

Once she secures the backpack and deposits it on your desk rather than in your path, you tuck her back against your hip. She’s got her chin hooked over your shoulder, out of your eyesight, which means that you don’t catch the thumbs-up that she throws towards Hotch. You don’t happen to notice the wink that he throws her back while Reid’s head is ducked towards a paper he’d brought along, another one of his rare smiles aimed at her as he holds up his end of the bargain.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner scenario #aaron hotchner oneshot #aaron hotchner one-shot #aaron hotchner one shot #aaron hotchner headcanon #aaron hotchner headcanons #aaron hotchner hc #aaron hotchner hcs #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner dialogue #aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x reader fanfiction

[saintwyfe]

࿐ ˚ . ✦ PROVE IT. jude bellingham

summary. a night out, gone lewd

cw. slightly toxic relationship, implied infidelity, cursing, alcohol consumption, nsfw [!!!]

wc. 1682

most relationships, or at least the ones we see today, always have that overprotective boyfriend and free-spirited girlfriend dynamic.

as much as you hated it, you were the jealous, possessive one in the relationship. always ordering him around, issuing the ‘don’t do that"s and the ‘why are you looking at her like that?"s.

at one point in the relationship, the roles were reversed. he’d always be the one kissing up on you in public, clinging his arms tightly around your waist to let the men in the room know you were his, and only his. it’s crazy how times have changed now, huh?

“i’m gonna go grab a drink. you care for one?” he ducked, hovering over your ear, before taking a last sip from his bottle.

you nodded your head. “i’m fine for now, thanks,” you replied, quickly adjusting the collar of his top. he nodded, and with that, he drifted towards the bar. you glanced off at him during his departure before scanning the rest of the club, filled with young people dancing to bouncy music. 

to be honest, clubbing wasn’t your thing. maybe with the right group of people, it wouldn’t be that bad, but you're stranded for now. introverted you thought it was a somewhat-good idea to sway to the beat of the music while scrolling through instagram to not seem awkward. contrary to your plan, it did. and now, you were in the corner of the nightclub, pulling down your tiny cocktail dress that’d been riding up your thighs to some corny pop song. better than being stuck at home, right?

your eyes strayed from your bright phone screen for a second to check up on your boyfriend, just to make sure he wasn’t getting into trouble. and funny enough, you saw just that: his smiling, tall figure leaned up against the bar, giggling next to some short, dark-haired girl. your mouth dropped. you didn’t even want to hear the end of it.

in a fit of rage, you marched toward the entrance of the place, uber already pulled up on your phone. nothing else crossed your mind. just the image of him next to her. some skanky girl in a tacky, sequined dress. even thinking about it makes your fists ball up. to add to that, you looked ridiculous pacing the sidewalk bordering the club, getting glances from passersby as you waited for your uber, which at this point was a few minutes away.

your phone immediately buzzed after you found the location of your driver.

where are you?

i can’t find you

seen 2m ago

y/n?

i left

find your own way home

seen just now

thankfully, your uber had pulled up just in time. pulling the handle of the black sedan, you were ready to plunk down in the back seat and just sob. 

“y/n?!” the club door scraped the pavement, a wave of loud music following a breeze of air hitting your skin. fuck. maybe if you just got in quick enough—

“where are you going?” he was quick to shout from behind you, his warm hand stationed upon yours on the car’s handle.

“home,” you replied, turning your head to face him from behind you. “i’m going home. just have fun by yourself, alright?”

he shook his head, scoffing. “are you serious?”

considering him looking so taken aback compared to your aloof face—it’s almost laughable knowing that he was just cozying up with another woman back at the bar. did he seriously think you didn’t know? like you didn’t just see that flirty interaction between the two?

you huff out a laugh. “jude, you’re seriously so funny,” you mocked, squinting up at the puzzled individual. 

“what are you talking about? what the fuck’s gotten into you?” he spat.

“i’m sure the girl at the bar would keep you company ‘til you come home, yeah?” you click your tongue, a satirical smile spreading through your lips, before lowering your head into the back seat of the car.

but he had different plans.

you could almost feel your blood start to boil as his legs crept next to yours in the car as well.

you scoffed, throwing your head back. “what the fuck are you do—-”

“you can start driving now, sir,” he interrupted you mid-sentence, and contradicting the way he’d just been speaking to you just a minute ago, he kindly instructs your driver. you could almost feel your eyes rolling to the back of your head to his sudden change in mood.

and, bizarrely enough, he’s silent for the ride. his eyes glared at the road. the only sound was that of the car wheels on the street, the driver not daring to ask any questions. 

“have a good night, mister,” you said to the guy behind the wheel as you shut the car door behind you. jude, who’d already been at the front door of your shared home, was tapping the keypad, eager to come home once and for all.

your heels tapped the pavement of your driveway. his cold gaze locked on you while he held the door open for your entry inside. you, on the other hand, are not daring to speak a word. yet, you couldn’t ignore the adrenaline rush happening inside of you. jude wasn’t the type to go to bed angry, even if it meant handling things in a different way.

“so what is it with you?” he inquired, his voice softer, less hostile than before. “you just think leaving without saying anything would solve anything?”

you jumped a bit, not expecting to exchange words—not at least in the foyer. slowly, you turned around to meet his seething eyes. his hands still grasp the door handle, and he’s anticipating an answer from you.

“i could ask you the same thing, jude,” you stared. “what were you doing with her? hm?”

in an instant, he shook his head, biting his lip to stifle his laugh.

“y/n, did you forget who i am? that i have a public career, and maybe she was just a fan?” all of a sudden, it just hit you. you could just annihilate yourself from the shame you held upon him tonight, but it was in the heat of the moment, and you gave yourself no time to think. and, god, you looked so dumb just accusing him of something so distasteful and unlike him. 

“you think i’d just throw away our relationship for some girl at a club? no. i wouldn’t, y/n,” he added. “you’re mine, and only mine. understand?”

your eyes skimmed the floor, before meeting his dark brown irises. “then prove it.”

at once, his cold eyes turned ravenous.

“you don’t even know what you got yourself into,” he chuckled as he approached your figure. quickly, he locked his hand into your hair and pressed his lips against yours. he didn’t hold back on ambushing your lips. there was still liquor on h​​is tongue, which you could still taste. his arm intertwined around your waist as you began heading upstairs, groans escaping his mouth as you two struggled to find your bedroom.

your back was pressed up against the cold doorframe of your shared room, and he, taking advantage of your state, sought to lace his arms under your thighs. you took notice of the queue and jumped onto them, making it easier for him to spill your body onto the edge of your bed once he’d opened the door. you found yourself giggling once he did, especially with your dress threatening to expose the risque areas of your body. his hands locked your wrists in place, and now you were just docile under his spell. 

his kisses moved from your lips to your neck, leaving hickeys all over. his saliva around each bruise. you were a moaning mess, with his pace almost giving you whiplash. 

his fingers traced your waist, unzipping your dress’s zipper from the sides and finding its way to the wooden floors once it was off. he’s heaving as he’s doing so, almost like a predator finally getting its prey. you hissed once his hands fondled your now exposed breasts, with no warning, whatsoever.

his eagerness doesn’t halt while he’s pulling off your panties. he gives you a quick, sinful glare as his head dips between your thighs. you propped yourself on your elbows while you anticipated what he’d be doing next.

“you’re so wet already, angel,” he purrs against your dribbling cunt. “such a fuckin’ slut for me.”

his tongue wraps around your pussy, giving you no signal or build-up. your back arches from the sudden contact, which quickly leaves you breathless. his eyes linger on you, watching as you go dumb from being tongue-fucked so hungrily. his arms twined around your thighs, leaving you almost powerless against him while he held you in place.

his tongue ran through your slit while his thumb simultaneously found itself toying with your clit. your moans were so loud and pornographic, and you quickly grew your orgasm. 

“fuck, keep going, just like that, baby,” you cried. your hips found themselves grinding against his mouth. you were just growing so impatient, wanting to chase your high so desperately. your hands latched onto the bed sheets to distract yourself before cumming.

his tongue keeps swirling around your clit, your bud puffy and sensitive, while your thighs begin twitching. you could feel tears start to well up in your eyes—you were so close, and he could definitely tell by the way your legs started to tighten and clench around his head.

“jude, i’m gonna cum—” you yelped, throwing your head back and squeezing your eyes shut. right then, he pulled away, leaving you absent of your climax. 

you gasped, anticipating so heavily to cum, but instead, you were left emptyhanded. you could almost cry then and there.

he coughed up a laugh, almost mocking you. “brats don’t get what they want, at least not without earning it.” he stood up, petting your hair. 

“get on your knees.”

an: ntm on my amateur smut writing

#jude bellingham #football imagine #football fanfic #football imagines #jude bellingham blurb #jude bellingham imagine #jude bellingham imagines #jude bellingham x reader #jude bellingham fanfic #jude bellingham smut #footballer smut #football smut

[friccafracc]

DROP THE FIC OR IM COMING FOR YOUR KNEECAPS

ALRIGHT OK BUT I NEED IT TO BE KNOWN THAT I HAVENT WRITTEN ANYTHING SERIOUSLY SINCE HIGHSCHOOL OK

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Something is after me. I know it is, I’ve seen it. It looks like a man, but I know that it’s not. It…. It’s face is like a mockery of something human- like- like if you asked someone who has never seen a human to draw or model a person’s face, their smile. No… I don’t think any human would be able to get it that wrong.”

“And I’m not crazy, alright? God, y’all probably get that a lot here, don’t you? You people specialize in crazy. Not that I’m anyone to judge anymore, given the shit I went through before coming out here. I didn’t even know a place like this existed outside the Usher Foundation. I just…there’s some weird, crazy shit out there I guess, and when I heard about y’all, I figured I should probably pay a visit. At least let someone know before I die.”

“I know I’m gonna die.”

“I suppose I should start from the beginning. My name is Joshua Nelson, I’m originally from the States–Memphis Tennessee. Now, if there’s one thing you should know about Memphis, it’s that nobody in their right mind should EVER move there on their own accord, ‘cause you’ll either get mugged or stalked or both. I was born and raised there, so I never really got the choice during the formative years of my life. I’ve learned to live with it, though.”

“I worked retail in a gas station before…well, everything. It was a shithole. The kind of building where, no matter how hard you scrubbed and no matter how much bleach you used, the stains and smell of smoke would never leave. Instead just…mingled with the citrus of the chemicals. It paid the bills, though, and I was never witness to a robbery, so I couldn’t complain too much. The customers were docile and if I noticed anyone shoplifting, I kept it to myself. I wasn’t getting paid enough to give a damn.”

“We had regulars that would come in on a schedule and regulars that wouldn’t. People who were just passing through the city or visiting family or friends. You get all types in that kinda place, and if you’re placid enough to any asshole who’s having a bad day, everyone gets along just fine. There were a couple of regulars who were friendly enough, though, that I remember their names. Miss Kelly was an older woman, short and heavyset–she was one of the friendlier ones. We’ve got a lot of talkers in the south and boy did she make sure I knew every exact reason for what her kids were getting up to, or what was going on in a reality show she was hooked on at the time.”

“George Michael, a thin man in his 40s, maybe, always came in whenever he needed a new pack of cigarettes, I think he was a chain-smoker, cause he was in there a lot.”

“And then…then there was Hunter. Now Hunter was a younger man, maybe college age. A little older than that? Poor bastard was hooked on something, that much anyone could tell. He was gaunt, a little twitchy, you know, telltale signs of drug abuse. I could never tell what specifically he was on, but then again, it was never my business to know. I treated him the same as every other customer, we all knew he wasn’t gonna cause any harm, he usually came in for food, chips and hotdogs and stuff and he never caused a fuss.”

“I think… I think Hunter is dead.”

“One day he came in, I think it was a Wednesday or something cause it was slow that afternoon, and he burst through the door. Well–maybe not burst, but he came in the building like he was racing to get indoors first before someone else. The guy was usually jittery and, I’ll admit, a little shifty usually, but this was full blown paranoia. It startled me at first, his intensity, and he made a b-line towards the back of the store and ducked behind one of the shelves. Maybe not duck completely like ducking for cover, but it was obvious he was hiding. It almost made me expect the police or some drug lord to come storming through the door, but nobody else came.”

“Hunter stayed pacing in the building for a good 20 or 30 minutes, periodically lifting his head to crane his neck and peer out the window or the glass of the door. I checked once or twice as well, but if someone was out there, I didn’t see them. Eventually the guy calmed down enough to buy something and when he approached the counter with his bag of Doritos he looked almost like he was going to be sick.”

“I asked him if everything was alright, but he just shook his head and left.”

“I didn’t see him again for another week or two after that. Obviously I assumed the worst. I theorized that someone was after him and when he didn’t show up when he usually did it was more than enough to confirm my suspicions. Be it cops or some random person on the street, I couldn’t decide which fate would be worse, and I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel for the guy at least a little bit.”

“Hunter was almost completely out of my mind when I saw him again. I was surprised. By all accounts, it didn’t look like anything had changed about him. Maybe aside from the fact that his posture was way better than it usually was when I saw him, but other than that, nothing was out of the ordinary.”

“Business went on as usual and when he came up to the till with a liter of coke, I offered him a ‘Welcome Back’ and rang him up.”

“When I turned back to him, he was smiling. For some reason it was like a pit opened in the bottom of my stomach. I couldn’t understand why, though. It looked like Hunter–patchy, unkempt stubble, greasy hair, thin face, sunken eyes. His appearance had never bothered me before, so I was struck with confusion that mixed in with the undefinable, sudden sense of dread.”

“‘Thank you,’ he said as I handed him his change. And he walked out the door. It sounded like Hunter, too.”

“Hunter returned the next day, and the next. Each time he was polite and quiet, and each time he smiled when I rang him up. I counted his teeth. They were straight and flat. When I counted mine in the mirror when I smiled, I saw 17 or 18. Hunter’s counted 24.”

“Maybe he has a dental problem that I didn’t notice until now, I told myself. Human bodies are weird. Sometimes you have more teeth than usual.”

“The fourth day he came in a row, I saw his eyes and his pupils were…swollen, is the only way I can describe them. I know what people’s eyes look like when they’re high. This was not that. It was like they almost swallowed up his irises completely, and they were dull. Dull in the sense that the fluorescents overhead did nothing to cast any reflections onto them. It made me want to writhe and squirm whenever he looked at me.”

“I called in sick the fifth day. I knew Hunter would be back in that gas station to see me. I knew it was to see me. And I knew that thing. That..whatever it was. It wasn’t Hunter.”

“I guess a part of me was always dreading that day. I had always heard stories about people being stalked from friends of friends. It was only a matter of time before it happened to me, right?”

“I saw Hunter at the grocery store the next day, posture straight and face split open into that smile with too many teeth. I didn’t have the mind to be polite. I turned completely around and walked the other way, trying to fool myself thinking that he hadn’t seen me. I kept a pocket knife on me after that encounter. I probably should have been before, but hindsight is always 20/20.”

“Each time I saw him after that, it was worse. On the street to my apartment, his eyes were too wide and his grinning mouth was slightly agape. A crude facsimile of delight as I rushed past him. I stopped going into work when I started to spot him everywhere I went. Every destination no matter how far or random, he was there, grinning at me. He knew where I lived, that I had no doubt. So I went to a friend’s one night hoping to throw him off. Maybe I could move out and lose him. Lord knows I didn’t have the money to break my lease early, but I was desperate.”

“My friend suggested I call the police, but for some reason I was convinced that wouldn’t help. Cops usually only made things worse in that town, and I had a sinking feeling going that route would only waste my time.”

“The final straw was the second night I was crashing on my friend’s couch. I was exhausted, the past few weeks spent sleepless and paranoid and I was ready to finally pass out when I heard a light, rhythmic tapping on the window behind my head.”

“It’s just the wind, I thought to myself. A tree branch or something scraping against the glass. The exhaustion was completely gone, my pounding heart and pumping adrenaline overpowering any lame excuse that I would be stupid enough to be reassured by.”

“I didn’t move from where I lay. Tap. Tap. Tap. Came through the window once again.”

“I don’t know why I laid there for so long, unmoving, convinced that if I didn’t turn around, whatever it was outside would lose interest and leave. I really, really wanted it to leave.”

“I lay still for what felt like hours, every muscle in my body wound up and tense and ready to leap into action at any given opportunity. I was praying the opportunity would never come.”

“I don’t know how long it was when the tapping ceased, but it was long before I finally managed to relax. It seemed like my strategy worked. What an idiotic thing to think. Like I was a child hiding from an imaginary monster in the dark. Like the logic of not giving a stalker any attention so it would go away was sound. No. I think it was that false hope that landed me in this situation.”

“Because when that tapping came again, I wasn’t prepared to turn around. But I did. I turned around and what I saw in the darkness through that glass was… I don’t know what it was. I know it had eyes and teeth. It was grinning, but its teeth stretched well beyond what would be the borders of its face. God, I couldn’t see its face. I knew it was Hunter, though. It had those same lightless eyes that stared back at me every time I closed my own. Dead and dark and dull and staring at me–eating at me, wide and gleeful and spilling into the shadow that I could only assume was a part of the creature, itself. Its form took up nearly the entirety of the window, blocking the outside world. It didn’t move.”

“I screamed. I screamed and closed the curtains and I hid. This woke my friend of course, and she came stumbling out of her room, looking bleary but alert. I tried to signal to her not to go to the window or do anything or to call the police. Thankfully she got the message and the cops were there within the hour.”

“They didn’t find anything. Or anyone, for that matter. I left out the…the monster bit, because I assumed it might land me somewhere I really didn’t want to go.”

“They were about as helpful as I thought they would be. Told me to call them again if I noticed any suspicious activity.”

“I booked my flight here that very night. I wasn’t going to stay in that goddamn city with whatever the HELL that thing was. I don’t want to end up like Hunter. I don’t want it to wear my skin.”

“It will, though. I know it will and it scares me more than anything in the world. And I know I can’t escape it, either.”

“It followed me here. I saw it. It was still grinning at me and it was still. Wearing. Hunter’s. Skin. The shadow that was cast over it made it so I could only see the whites of it’s eyes....its teeth.”

“I don’t want to die.”

#txt #oc fic #tma sona #tma oc #avatar of the stranger #ITS BEEN SO LONG SINCE IVE WRITTEN FIC...PLS BE NICEYS

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for lottie; a pocketful of Kons. Cut for length. Bart is really hard for me to write, especially as a POV character, but I might almost be getting a grip on him now, hah.

Bart ducks into the bathroom and peeks in the half-open cabinet under the sink, where his Pocket is huddled up sulking in the back corner and shredding up the rest of the extra toilet paper, for some reason. So that’s kinda annoying. And definitely gonna make a mess. 

. . . whatever, as long as he cleans it up before Max finds out about it and decides to make him clean it up slow it doesn’t matter. 

Though it’s still annoying.

“What’re you so upset about?” he asks with a frown, and his Pocket shoots him a dirty look. He looks . . . really upset, actually. Bart doesn’t get it. It’s not his fault his Pocket’s slow. Or messed up his cape. Or can’t pick a dumb name. Or . . . whatever he was upset about, it’s been a few subjective hours, it’s hard to remember exactly what set him off. “Seriously, we’re already stuck inside today because you showed up in a superhero costume, dunno why you’re mad at me.” 

They could go out as long as they were fast enough, obviously, except his Pocket isn’t fast, so what’s he supposed to do about that? Like, how is it fair that he gets a Pocket that can’t even keep up with him? He didn’t even ask for a stupid Pocket, much less a slow one that was gonna complain about everything and sulk in his bathroom and wreck all his toilet paper! 

Lame. Super lame. 

Seriously. Couldn’t he at least have gotten another speedster for his soulmate? Or at least not gotten faked out by a Pocket that should be fast enough to at least kind of keep up? Like, even a little bit? 

That part actually might be more annoying than getting a slow Pocket to begin with, Bart thinks. 

Waaaaay more annoying, actually. 

Ugh. 

His Pocket glares at him and then, uh–

Then the rest of the toilet paper just explodes. 

. . . okay, that’s weird. Like–what? What the heck? His Pocket didn’t even touch any of it, so what the heck? 

“What the heck?” Bart says. His Pocket glares at him. 

“Bart,” he snaps angrily, then dives into the destroyed toilet paper and curls up under it. Bart . . . frowns. 

His Pocket’s really upset, huh. 

“Is this about me beating you at all the games?” he guesses. “Because it’s not my fault you’re slow, okay, and–” 

“BART!” his Pocket yells, and all the bottles of cleaning stuff throw themselves at Bart’s head without him actually touching them. 

. . . weird, Bart notes, then dodges. Because again, he’s actually fast, unlike certain people in this bathroom and conversation and . . . whatever. 

Ugh. Isn’t Helen back yet? Isn’t Max done with his stupid calls? Maybe one of them can figure out why his Pocket’s so weird. And so slow. Also why he’s so slow. Because Bart would really like to know, personally.

Seriously, he cannot think of a worse possible soulmate to have than a slow one. 

Ugh. Ugh. Ughhhhh. 

“Don’t be such a jerk,” Bart says, frowning irritably at his Pocket, who just glowers at him again and then reburies himself in the destroyed pile of toilet paper. Bart scowls back, then darts a hand in and yanks him out. His Pocket screeches indignantly. “Don’t yell at me, you’re the one wrecking stuff!” 

“Bart!” his Pocket yells again, his face all screwed up in fury as he kicks out of his grip and zips up towards the far corner of the ceiling. “Bart Imp BART!”

Bart really would not have called Superman being the type to throw a tantrum, but okay. Learn something new every day, he guesses. 

“You’re a grifing brat,” he grumbles, tapping a foot impatiently against the floor before jumping up onto the side of the tub in an attempt to catch his Pocket before the little guy can wreck anything else. His Pocket just flies up higher and screeches down at him in angry Pocket-talk, which is not a helpful method of communication. Bart does not get what he’s so mad about. Like, what’s the big deal or whatever? If anyone should be upset right now it should be him over getting the slowest Pocket ever. Like, he’s definitely the one who should be upset right now!

Well, he is, kinda. 

“Come on, Pocket!” he complains, jumping up to try and grab him again. He’s fast enough to catch him, but his Pocket’s up too high for him to reach. 

His Pocket screeches louder at him, then bolts into the medicine cabinet. Bart groans in frustration and barely keeps himself from falling into the tub before he steps onto the lid of the toilet and tries to tug the medicine cabinet back open. The door doesn’t budge, much in the same way his pillow didn’t. 

Weird, still, but kinda expected at this point. 

“Why are you acting like this? I didn’t even do anything!” he protests. His Pocket just thumps the cabinet door–kicks it, probably–hard enough that the mirror cracks. Max is totally gonna blame him for that, Bart thinks disgruntledly, scowling at his splintered reflection. “Grife, Pocket!” 

His Pocket makes a really weird sound, and Bart–pauses. 

“Pocket?” he tries warily. His Pocket makes the weird sound again. It’s hitched and strangled and thick and sounds like–

. . . uh-oh, Bart thinks with a wince, because he’s pretty sure his Pocket’s trying not to cry right now. 

Sprock. 

He doesn’t even know what he did. He tries to ease the cabinet door open again, but it still doesn’t move at all. 

“Bart!” his Pocket yells in obvious frustration. “Imp Bart, Imp Bart, Imp Bart Imp Bart!”

Bart frowns. He wonders if–

“Is this ‘cuz you don’t like any of the names I suggested?” he asks doubtfully. His Pocket sniffles. Bart hears something rattle in the cabinet. “What’s the big deal? It’s just a name.” 

His Pocket sobs. 

. . . okay then, Bart thinks, his frown deepening reflexively. That’s . . . a reaction, alright. 

Man, this is why he never wanted a Pocket. They’re so confusing. What’s his Pocket even want from him? He suggested a ton of names! His Pocket’s the one who’s being picky! What was even wrong with his suggestions, anyway? They were all fine! If his Pocket wants a name so bad, why’s he refusing to pick one? 

“I don’t get it,” Bart says, tapping his foot restlessly again and frowning all the harder. “I thought up a ton of names for you! Like, all kinds of names! And like basically all Super-stuff ones, even!” 

His Pocket tries to stifle another choked little sob, and Bart . . . pauses. 

“Is that, like . . . a problem?” he asks skeptically, and his Pocket doesn’t make a sound. “Pocket?” 

His Pocket still doesn’t make a sound. Bart gives the medicine cabinet door another tug, and it pops open. A bunch of random junk falls out into the sink, and he finds his Pocket hiding under a couple of washcloths and trying to muffle more sniffles. 

Bart feels–weird, seeing that. He reaches into the cabinet, and this time his Pocket doesn’t kick him when he grabs him. He keeps the washcloth dragged over his head, though, and his breathing is hitched and hurt-sounding. 

Bart doesn’t get it.

#lottie #wip: a pocketful of kons

[adora-but-ginger]

Sparks Fly

pairing: joel miller x gn!reader

summary: joel and ellie find someone who isn’t too pleased with how them and joel’s last interaction went.

word count: around 2.1k

warnings: typical tlou violence and warnings (i’m comparing it to the game’s usual amount), angst that turns into fluff, slight tlou part one spoilers in terms of people mentioned, use of weapons and guns, swearing, joel getting frustrated because no one is letting him talk, ellie on her queen shit

masterlist

a/n: i love naming fics after taylor’s songs, they’re so fun! also don’t ask for a timeline because all i know is that it’s before the university but after bill, but oh my god i love this game so much, and the tv show is just *chefs kiss* so far. on my pedro pascal shit as usual, but i really like writing for joel! oh and i wrote this literally three hours ago and could not tell you what is going on. thank you for reading <3

should i make a part two?

one last thing! don’t repost my stories, if you do, i hope a clicker gets you, yes you, first :) 

(credit to gif owner!)

Joel Miller was many things, but apologetic wasn’t one of them. So, when he felt the all too familiar whoosh of a bullet purposely landing in the dirt not even a foot beside him, he knew showing up was a mistake. If Tess hadn’t put that damned idea in his head to check in on you, he really wouldn’t have put another conscience thought in your direction. 

You appeared in his unconscious mind much more than he’d like to admit though. 

Snapping back to his current reality, he heard an all too familiar voice, albeit tinted with the age of surviving all these years, yell towards him and Ellie packed full of fury.

“Weapons on the ground and hands up now.” When no one moved, the voice reverberated again. “Now.” 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Ellie shot a look towards the older man, her face proving her to be more annoyed than anything. 

“If I need to repeat myself again, the next shot won’t miss. Hands. Up.” 

Setting his revolver on the ground, he closed his eyes as he slowly called your name in a hesitant greeting. Ellie snapped her head towards him again at his familiarity with you. “This is who Tess was talking about? Seriously?” 

“Ellie--” Joel scolded, turning slowly to face you. His eyes moved from the dirt beneath him to meet your eyes, and that’s when he knew he really shouldn’t have come. You look a bit startled, a bit of anger rising beneath your gaze, as the realization of who you were talking to hit. 

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Joel Miller before me right now?” A scoff accompanied your words. Joel gritted his teeth, a deep sigh rumbling through him. 

“Listen, I--” Your voice cut his off before he could even form a sentence.

“Give me one good reason why I don’t put a bullet between your eyes this very moment. I told you not to show your face to me again.” 

Ellie flipped her hands over, eyes narrowing. “Joel what is going--” 

“Ellie now is not the time.” His accent was cutting through thicker than usual, most likely due to the situation. “Tess told me to make sure you’re still alive and I figured, hell, we could use some help.” 

He saw your eyes roll, but you holstered your gun anyways. “Last time I talked to her, I told her to leave me be.” Your head moved towards the teen. “Who’s she?”

Ellie spoke up before he had the chance to. “She is none of your business.” 

“This is Ellie.” Joel lowered his arms back to his sides. “Listen, I know that we left each other on a lousy note, but--” 

You cut him off again, cussing under your breath. “Considering it a ‘lousy note’ would be putting it mildly. Plus, it was not a mutual leaving.” 

“Goddammit, can you stop interrupting me?” He closed his eyes in frustration, taking another breath to try to calm his nerves. “Can we discuss this inside somewhere? It took us too many infected to get here just for all of us to be out in the open like sitting ducks.” 

“Who do you take me for? You know damn well that I of all people would keep this place guarded.” He saw you shift into a more casual stance, slouching on on leg, hostility still present in your glare towards him. “Yeah, follow me. But--” you raised your pointer finger towards the two. “Don’t go off the path. I’ve loaded this place with traps that took way too long to set up just for someone to carelessly set off.” 

Walking behind you from a distance, Joel glanced around at the spot you had set up for yourself to live in. A nudge from Ellie brought his attention to her. 

“What the fuck did you do to piss them off so much?”

He took a second before answering. “I got them caught in a FEDRA ambush, not knowingly of course, but they didn’t stick around long enough for any explanations.” He looked at the old ruins they were all passing by--barns ruined by the bombs that hit non-quarantined areas, cars overgrown with that copper-tinted rust, wire lined up as defenses on all four sides of them. If it weren’t for the green that came with nature reclaiming what was taken from her, this place, this planet, would be a wasteland. 

Humans weren’t the only thing being destroyed. 

“Were you in a relationship with them or something?” She smirked as she spoke. 

“That’s not relevant information.”

Her smirk now fully forming into a grin, she continued with a chuckle. “Oh, you totally were!”

He grunted in response, quickly mumbling a “that’s none of your business” before quickening his steps to meet yours, partially to avoid any more questions, and partially to make sure you weren’t leading them to an untimely death.

As the trio strolled into the makeshift camp, Joel took another look at you. Age had done you well, and while he knew he was walking on ice thin as a sheet of paper, part of him was glad to see you. 

He was never that good with emotions--he had a tendency to close most feelings out besides the consistent fear and anger that came with living in this time, and people knew that. He wasn’t good with understanding that people cared about him, or that he cared for others. 

Not since Sarah at least. 

But for the first time in longer than he could remember, he felt something other than those two feelings blossom when he talked to you. He didn’t have a name for what he felt, but his shitty reality got a little better whenever you were around, and that had to mean something, hadn’t it? 

“I have some food in the kitchen if you two are hungry, down the hall to the left.” You called out, going to the right instead. He followed Ellie into the kitchen you had set up, her moving to rummage through anything she could find for the both of them. He was still lost in his own world, a world which was filled with nothing but memories of what life used to be. 

It was the Ellie’s voice that brought him back to the current moment, a trend he had begun to notice. 

“You think they’re beautiful.” Her words carried an sense of teasing around them.

Joel nearly choked on the air around him at her statement, the wind being knocked out of him just by her call out. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” 

“Except you do.” An accusatory finger pointed his way. “You get this...look in your eye that I can’t explain, but it’s the same look you get only when you see something beautiful. A sunset, a new weapon, them.” she smirked as she said the last part. 

“Have you found anything to eat yet?” Changing the subject was his next best option. Ellie hadn’t known him for that long and already she was starting to read him like an open book. He could see her little celebration at her victory as she turned towards the cabinets. “Go see if you can find any supplies or anythin’ of the sorts after the grub, and no more talk about this.” 

Taking one last look at the room, he went to go find you, which given the size of the establishment didn’t take very long. He could hear Ellie say “You like them!” in a sing-song manner as he left, and he opted to ignore her as he moved through the rooms. 

When he walked into the space you were in and saw you, he took a second to notice what had changed over the years. He wasn’t sure if you noticed him yet and was thankful for bit of quiet if he was being honest. He knew back then that had the two of you met pre-outbreak, he damn near would’ve fallen for you in a heartbeat, and Tommy would’ve made fun of him for it for hours. The way you held yourself, your personality, how you made an effort to care about him, well, needless to say he would have made a move much sooner than he did. 

You held his heart in the palm of your hand, and you didn’t even know it. 

Your hair hadn’t changed much, but if he looked closely enough, he could see some gray speckling its usual colour. He shook his head as he realized that the girl was right about his feelings towards you. 

Goddammit, Ellie.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” His eyes widened at the fact that he’d been caught by you, who turned around to face him with an eyebrow raised. When he didn’t respond, you disappeared into a little room to the right, emerging moments later with a wet cloth, handing it to him. He was never a man of many words, and you always respected that. “You smell, wash your face a bit yeah?” 

Taking it, a chuckle emitted from deep within him. “Good to see you haven’t changed much.” It felt good to feel the cool water on his face. 

“Joel, why are you here, seriously?” The way you looked at him made an unusual flutter erupt from his heart, not that he would ever admit that out loud. The effect you had on him made him feel like a goddamned high-schooler.

“She’s important, Ellie is, and I need to get her to the fireflies.” You scoffed at the last part, and you rolled your eyes, sitting down at a little table near the little room’s entry, motioning him to do the same.

“You know the fireflies are full of it. What, is she the daughter of some big wig or somethin’ like that?” 

He mirrored your scoff, slouching into the chair across from you. “Somethin’ like that. You just got to trust me on this one.” 

You raised an eyebrow and just slightly tilted your head in response. “Remember what happened the last time I trusted you?” 

He kept his mouth shut at that, a silence so loud that a clicker could walk through unalarmed, tension filling the air.

“I didn’t know that they were planning to sell you out, was just relaying information down the line.” 

He watched you as you pushed up from your chair with another roll of your eyes, stretching in the process. “Yeah, well you did. It doesn’t bother me as much as it used to, but that was a real shitty thing you did to me there.” 

He heard you take a deep breath at his lack of response. 

“But I guess we’ve all done things we regret since the outbreak, so might as well let bygones be bygones, yeah? How about a fresh start?” When he met your gaze, he saw a brief whisp of a smile grace your features, going by so quick that he could have imagined it. 

“Yeah, I’d like that.” He felt a weight he didn’t recognize leave his shoulders, and maybe that’s why he spoke what he did next. “You could come with us, you know, to deliver Ellie. God knows she gets tired of me sometimes, and I wouldn’t mind the company.” He couldn’t control the words leaving his mouth and didn’t even process what he said until he saw your contemplating face. His heart was beating faster, and he cursed himself for acting like a boy with a little crush. 

“Plus, he thinks you’re beautiful!” A third voice rushed in, making the two others whirl to see Ellie standing in the door frame, eyes wide and locking with his almost as if he would stop her if she spoke any slower. Which he would’ve. 

“Ellie, I swear to all things holy you--” 

Your laugh makes his words die off, amusement echoing in its wake. “Always been the charmer, you have, Joel.” Walking to face him with the brunette behind you, you leaned in close to his ear before continuing. “A fresh start, right?” and then he felt it. You had placed a kiss right on his cheek, and a feeling he hadn’t felt since he saw you last rose within him. Looking at you with pupils slightly blown, he watched as you winked at him before heading towards Ellie. “So, he say anything else like that about me?” 

Not many could break the exterior he placed as a barrier for himself--it took some people years to even get a kind response out of him. But not even an hour after running into you again, and he knew he was putty in your hands.

Joel Miller was many things, and in love (whether he would admit that to himself or not), was becoming one of them.

#the last of us #tlou part 1 #tlou spoilers #ellie williams #joel miller #joel miller x #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #pedro pascal #tlou fanfiction #joel miller x you

[skyward-floored]

Warriors gets his nickname

Hi I’m not updating long fics even though I want to, I’m instead writing more short Incredibles au stuff *collapses*. I’ll update other things eventually I promise ;-;

This is the furthest back fic I’ve written I think— Time is only a teenager, and Warriors is very smol. Time goes by Time because he got sick of them both being Link, but Warriors doesn’t have a nickname yet. I think that’s all the background you really need though, so I’ll stop and just let you read already.

————————————————————

Link held tight to Time’s hand as they walked down the sidewalk, headed towards the corner stand where Time knew they could get lunch for cheap. He usually skipped lunch himself, or just nibbled something small, but since it was the weekend, Link wasn’t in school and he had to get him something.

Time looked down at his little brother, Link trotting along beside him. He was nearly drowning in his too-big scarf, and Time flipped it around his neck one more time so he wouldn’t trip on it, Link giving him a little smile.

Time sighed to himself.

He was still figuring out how to deal with having a kid as his responsibility, but... he was making it work. He’d managed to get Link in a preschool on weekdays, and was working on a more permanent place for them to stay besides “in this nice tree” or “in the backseat of the car”. Nobody believed him when he said he was old enough to rent an apartment when he tried though, so it was usually still the backseat of the car for them.

But in general, Time didn’t usually feel like screaming, and was able to keep Link happy, so he was counting the whole thing as at least a partial success.

He seriously needed to find a nickname for the kid though— two Links was two too many.

Why did you name him after me, Mom? he thought as he watched Link jump over a slushy puddle. Why did you leave him with me? Surely you knew someone who who would do a better job? Someone who’s an adult? I’m his brother, but that doesn’t mean I know how to raise him.

A crashing sound made Time’s ears prick, and the thoughts he’d been repeatedly having ever since he’d met Link fled as he turned towards a tiny side street, one that ran behind several shops.

He tugged Link over towards the alley, suspicion in every step. That hadn’t just sounded like a normal dropping-something crash to him. And sure enough, he found a newly shattered window that led into a pawn shop, a shadow disappearing into the shelves inside.

“...bad guy?” Link asked, and Time nodded, already looking for a spot to switch into his super suit.

“Bad guy. A crazy one too, breaking and entering in broad daylight. Looks like somebody doesn’t know that stealing is wrong,” he said with a tsk, and Link let out a small giggle.

Time quickly ducked behind a dumpster to change, and emerged moments later, flexing his hands in his gloves. Link gave him an interested look, and Time suddenly remembered that he couldn’t very well bring his four-year-old brother inside with him.

“...Right,” Time sighed, then scooped Link up and quickly deposited him behind the same dumpster he’d changed behind. “Stay here, don’t let him or anyone see you. I’ll take care of him but don’t come out until I come get you.”

Link frowned, worry pinching at his eyebrows, and Time tucked his scarf a little more tightly around him.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry,” Time assured, but Link kept frowning.

“Hurt?”

“I won’t get hurt. And even if I do I can handle it, but I need to not worry about you while I fight. Stay here,” Time said firmly, then turned and jumped into the shattered window before his brother could argue.

He spotted the robber within seconds, the man breaking open a glass case with all sorts of valuables stored inside. Time put his little brother out of his mind for now, and crept closer, then abruptly cleared his throat. The man jumped at the noise and whipped around, brandishing a crowbar and staring at him.

“I don’t think those belong to you,” Time said with a smirk, and the man swung, Time nimbly jumping out of the way.

“Fierce Deity,” the man spat, and Time gave him a mocking bow.

“At your service. Put the fancy gold watches back.”

The man laughed, then his eyes narrowed behind the reptilian mask he wore. “Dinolfos of the Lizal gang doesn’t take orders from you.”

“Fine,” Time sighed, rolling his eyes. “I guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

He threw a punch towards Dinolfos, which the robber neatly avoided, and the two began to fight, weaving around each other and dodging attacks.

Dinolfos was surprisingly skilled at avoiding Time’s punches, and Time had barely landed any hits after several minutes. Dinolfos on the other hand, had grazed him at least twice now, and annoyance began to swell in Time’s chest. He wasn’t incapacitated from the hits, but he didn’t like where this was going.

He fought faster, managing to knock the crowbar from Dinolfos’s hand, and the battle sped up without the weapon in the mix, kicks and punches just barely grazing both of them.

This guy is fast, Time thought, lunging out of the way of a punch that likely would have given him a bloody nose. How is he so fast?! Argh.

Time managed a swing that connected with Dinalfos’s shoulder, and he reeled back, shouting in anger as he lunged for Time. Time once again dodged out of the way, and noticed with a smirk that his opponent’s swings were getting more wild.

He backed up to give himself some space, easily dodging the angry punches thrown at him. Time stuck his tongue out as Dinolfos missed again, and his opponent let out a roar of frustration as Time continued to easily avoid his angered strikes.

Until Time stumbled on the dropped crowbar.

His foot slipped and Dinolfos lunged, kicking Time right in the chest and knocking the breath out of him as he was thrown straight through the broken window. He went flying into some trash cans at the end of the alley, and heard Link gasp from his hiding spot, but his chest was tight, too tight for him to sit up or even move, just lie there and gasp for breath.

Dinolfos’s foot had caught him at exactly the wrong angle, and knocked every bit of air from his lungs.

Footsteps ran over, and Time opened his eyes with a cough, expecting to see Dinolfos with his weapon raised above his head, ready to strike.

Instead he saw Link standing protectively in front of him, arms held out as if to shield Time despite his tiny size.

Dinolfos laughed.

“Is this your sidekick, Deity?” he guffawed, looking down at Link as he stalked forward. “He is tiny! Were you so desperate for help that you thought even a baby would be better than nothing?”

He continued to laugh, and Link glared up at him, his hands clenching into fists. Time tried his best to catch his breath and get to his feet, but his lungs refused to work, no matter how he gasped. Stupid lungs, come on!

The very air temperature seemed to drop all of a sudden, and a flare of panic hit Time as the robber stepped towards Link. No no no no no—

Dinolfos lunged for him, but Link blasted a spurt of ice from his hands, hitting Dinolfos in the legs. He yelped in surprise, and before he could recover, Link sprayed more ice at him, trailing up his legs and hitting his arms as well.

The shots were clumsy, and it was obvious Link didn’t have much practice, but Dinolfos was completely stuck by the time he finished, and unable to grab his weapon.

Or move, for that matter.

“You brat!” Dinolfos hissed, glaring at where Link stood. “How dare you? I am of the Lizalfos pack, son of Dinal, leader of the Lower Lizards, Master of—!”

Link shot a bit of ice over his mouth, making his face flush with anger.

Time finally managed to get some air into his lungs, and he rolled over, looking up at Dinolfos and Link with an impressed expression.

“Huh,” Time wheezed, still trying to fully catch his breath. Partially from the kick, but mostly from the remaining panic of seeing his little brother nearly be attacked while he just gasped for breath on the pavement.

Sloppy, too sloppy, you should have put him further away, he barely knows how to use his powers he could’ve been hurt he could have been ki—

Time sighed, and winced as he put a hand to his chest and lightly rubbed. He was definitely going to have a bruise tomorrow. “We’ll have to talk about your listening skills kiddo, but... nice work. You’re quite the little warrior, huh?”

His brother’s face positively lit up at his words, and he pointed to himself, some snowflakes settling in his hair.

“Warriors,” he said proudly, and Time snorted, slowly getting to his knees.

“Warrior, kid. No S.”

“Warriors!”

“There’s only one of you, there’s no S,” Time argued back as he stood, but the kid just kept chattering ‘Warriors’ to himself, over and over. A vein bulged in Dinalfos’ forehead, and Time snorted, shaking his head.

He had been thinking about finding a nickname earlier... I suppose there are worse ones out there.

“Well come on, ‘Warriors’, let’s go get lunch. Frosty here can just hang around until the police show up,” he said, ruffling Link’s hair.

Link beamed, and took the hand Time offered him as they stepped out of the alleyway and walked down the street, leaving Dinolfos behind in the alley.

Dinolfos yelled a curse behind them that was entirely unintelligible.

#Incredibles au #linkeduniverse #linked universe fanfic #lu warriors #lu time #linked universe au #minor injury #Incredibles au fic #writing from the floor #teeny tiny Warriors #itty bitty #he doesn’t talk much #and Time’s a snarky teenager #who’s resigned himself to caring for this kid because nobody ELSE is gonna do it

[snailvee]

Luis survives and escapes Spain with Leon. However, he isn’t exactly prepared to meet Chris Redfield.

As soon as Chris saw Leon, he walked towards him quickly and enveloped him in his arms. He was always worried about him on missions where they didn’t work together, and it was comforting to see him alive in the flesh. Leon hugged back, if not more hesitantly than usual. Maybe Chris was just imagining things.

As he pulled back, he noticed the man standing next to Leon. He had longer dark hair and, in Chris’s opinion, a rather ridiculous leather jacket.

“Ay Leon, you didn’t tell me tú tienes un novio! O un esposo perhaps?” The man said teasingly, knocking his shoulder into Leon’s.

Leon rolled his eyes and huffed, ignoring the comment.

“Luis, this is Chris. Chris, Luis. He’s the reason Ashley and I are alive.” Leon looked from Chris back to Luis, his fondness for him hidden under the guise of appreciation. The softer look didn’t go unnoticed by Chris, who narrowed his eyes slightly as he addressed Luis.

“Good to meet you. Thank you for helping Leon.” His thanks were honest, but there was still some suspicion in his words.

“Oh the pleasure is all mine, señor. Just glad we’re back in one piece.” Luis seemed to sense Chris’s distrust, and he definitely caught the frown that started to form on his face as he wrapped an arm around Leon.

“Yeah, of course.” Chris said hurriedly, drawing closer to Leon and putting a hand on his other shoulder, not-so-subtly trying to pull him away from Luis’s hold.

“Are you injured? Did the medical staff look you over already? Have you already gone in to recount the mission? Is there–”

“Chris. I’m okay. everything’s alright.” Leon placed a hand on Chris’s arm and smiled up at him reassuringly. 

Chris’s face softened and the adoration in his eyes was clear as day to Luis, who adopted a frown similar to the one Chris wore earlier before quickly shaking it off. He couldn’t let either of them know he was bothered by their closeness, how comfortable they were in each other’s presence.

“Well, do you have a place to crash?” Chris asked, doing his best to resist the urge to bring his hand from Leon’s shoulder to his face and brush the hair from his eyes.

“I mean I was just going to go to the apartment, but if you’re staying there too you and Luis can take the bedrooms and I’ll take the couch. No big deal.” Leon shrugged, then tilted his head a bit.

“It is okay if Luis stays there too right? I know it’s usually just a place for us to crash but I’d much rather have him with me there than send him off to a random hotel.” Leon glanced over at Luis, who quickly hid the remaining jealousy present on his face.

“That’s fine, but you’re taking a bed. You just got back, I’m not letting you sleep on the couch.” Chris replied.

“Oh not to worry, no one will have to sleep on the couch! Sancho and I can just share a bed, yes?” Luis said, leaning even further into Leon’s side.

“I – we can figure out the sleeping situation when we get there. Let’s just go.” Leon muttered, ducking his head and slipping out of both Luis and Chris’s grasps. He started walking towards the parking garage, not looking back to see if the other two were following.

The second Leon was out of earshot, both men turned to each other slowly, Chris’s face was pinched in annoyance, while Luis tried to keep up his easy smile as he started to talk.

“He’s something else, isn’t he.” Luis said, eyes trailing back to Leon as he walked away.

“Yeah. I would know, we’ve been working together for years. And stop looking at his ass, you’re not subtle.” Chris was trying not to sound possessive but it wasn’t working out too well.

“Nothing wrong with looking, señor. But maybe I’d take you more seriously if you weren’t looking too.” Luis raised an eyebrow, looking back at Chris.

Chris huffed, not meeting his gaze. 

“Just don’t get too far ahead of yourself. Let’s go.” Chris all but glowered as he finally started following after Leon. 

Luis rolled his eyes and followed as well. He could tell the next few days were going to be interesting, especially if the three of them would be staying together in the same apartment. Even so, he was almost enticed by the lure of this newfound rivalry. Was it rather childish for them to be fighting over Leon, especially so passive aggressively so as not to upset him in the process? Probably. But it was also pretty fun, and Leon was definitely worth fighting for.

Eventually they all made it to the car and made the drive to the apartment in relative silence. Chris hopped out quickly, climbing the stairs and fishing his keys from his pocket. He unlocked the door, holding it open for Leon who smiled and rolled his eyes as he walked past. Chris let go of the door and slipped inside quickly, hearing a grunt as Luis caught the closing door with his hand. It was an extremely petty move, but it made Chris smile to himself as he followed Leon into the apartment.

It was small but still nice, just a place for Chris and Leon to stay between missions. They were never here for very long at a time and even less often here together, but it was still comforting to come back to. 

“I’m showering first, there’s blood in my hair and I smell like shit.” Leon said as he tugged off his boots and made his way to the bathroom. The door shut behind him and suddenly Chris and Luis were left alone together again.

Chris purposely ignored Luis in favor of snagging a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from one of the kitchen drawers and making his way to the small balcony. He lit one and held it to his lips, taking a drag and breathing out both smoke and a sigh of relief.

“Ah, you smoke too? Does Leon get on your case about it as well?” Luis’s voice came from beside him as he unceremoniously tugged the pack from Chris’s hand, pulling his own lighter out of his pocket.

“You know, the first thing I ever said to him was asking for a smoke. Nothing short of a miracle he didn’t leave me then and there, but I suppose I am just irresistible.” Luis said, grinning before lighting and taking a drag of his own cigarette.

Chris looked over at him, intended to make a witty remark before he saw the lighter Luis was twirling between his fingers. It was a small detail, but still more than enough to catch Chris’s attention – the symbol of Umbrella engraved into the metal.

Chris moved before he could even think, grabbing Luis’s arms to restrain him and pushing him against the balcony’s sliding door, already reaching for his knife with his other hand. Luis wasn’t weak by any means, but Chris had more muscle on him and his stab wound wasn’t fully healed, to say the least.

A cry of pain tore itself out of Luis’s mouth as he was knocked against the door, chest throbbing at the impact and hands twisted behind him in Chris’s grip.

“What the fuck?” He yelled, planting his feet and trying to keep his balance as the pain bolted through him.

“I should be asking you! Why the fuck does your lighter have the symbol of Umbrella?” Chris shouted, not loosening his hold at all as Luis struggled.

Before he could reply, a door slammed open and Leon came running towards the balcony with only a towel wrapped around his waist. There was fury in his eyes as he took in the situation, and fear behind that as he saw the pained look on Luis’s face.

“What the fuck are you doing Chris, get the hell off of him!” Leon yelled, coming closer to try and separate them himself.

“He’s with Umbrella Leon, get back!” Chris yelled back, tightening his grip even more.

“He’s not, just let go and I – we – can explain, you’re hurting him, stop!” Leon said, pushing Chris away and drawing Luis close to himself. Chris didn’t stop him, couldn’t bring himself to lay a hand on Leon despite the anger and fear coursing through him. Leon led Luis to the couch, gently sitting him down and pulling off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt to inspect his wound.

Chris didn’t move, standing shakily on the balcony with his hands balled into fists at his sides. He couldn’t process what he was seeing, Leon knelt in front of Luis, the enemy, tending to him and ignoring Chris, ignoring the danger at hand.

Leon seemed to sense Chris starting to open his mouth, because he turned towards him with a pleading look.

“I promise I’ll tell you everything, no one is in danger. Just – trust me. Please.” Leon said, voice getting softer and trailing off. A thousand thoughts and emotions seemed to pass behind Chris’s eyes but he did as he was told, sliding the balcony door closed behind him and taking a seat on the ground next to Leon, unable to fully shake off the feeling that Luis was going to hurt him.

“Mierda –” Luis cursed under his breath as Leon made sure the wound hadn’t reopened. Once he was satisfied with his inspection, he carefully buttoned up his shirt and turned to face Chris.

“Luis used to work for Umbrella, but he left as soon as he realized what his work was really being used for. They tricked him, made him think he was helping people. He didn’t know, Chris. It’s not his fault. He’s not with them.” Leon said softly, eyes never leaving Chris’s. 

Chris’s shoulders slumped and his eyes lowered, unable to keep Leon’s gaze.

“I’m sorry, I believe you, I was just so scared I moved before I could think and–” His throat constricted, stopping him from saying anything else.

“I know, and I’m sorry I didn’t say anything sooner. I should have expected you both to start smoking the second I left, huh?” Leon cracked a wry smile, trying to ease the tension in the room.

Chris let out a strained chuckle and smiled back, nodding at Leon. The adrenaline was fading and he was now acutely aware of Leon’s state of undress, eyes wandering down over his chest before snapping back up to his face.

“I – I’m gonna go shower now.” Chris said, averting his eyes from Leon entirely and standing up quickly, fighting to keep the emotions off his face as he made his way to the bathroom. Leon’s expression morphed into one of surprise at Chris’s abrupt exit, but he tried not to dwell on it as he turned to Luis.

Luis had stayed silent during their exchange, both not wanting to interrupt them and afraid if he tried to speak everything would go wrong again. Leon’s words echoed in his head – “it’s not his fault.”

“Hey, are you alright?” Leon asked softly, hand moving to rest on Luis’s calf as he was still kneeling in front of him. Luis nodded mutely, still not trusting his mouth to not betray him.

“I’ll go grab bandages and we can redress your wound.” Leon said as he stood up, turning around and walking to the kitchen. Luis found himself staring at Leon again as he walked away, this time at the planes of his back and how his shoulders moved under his skin. After a moment, Luis dropped his head back against the couch and let out a long sigh as he listened to Leon footsteps.

He didn’t know if he could handle Leon’s hands on his chest again, let alone Leon kneeling down in front of him for a second time. He knew it wasn’t the time to be focusing on such things, but he couldn’t help himself. Besides, Chris hadn’t done much better. He’d barely tried to hide his gaze at Leon’s chest. Luis chuckled to himself thinking about what Chris might be up to in the shower right now.

“What’s so funny?” Leon said standing in front of him, now dressed in a t-shirt and sweatpants. Luis hadn’t noticed him return, too preoccupied with his own thoughts.

“Oh nothing, Prince Charming. I’m lucky to have you here to patch me up.” he said, winking at Leon. 

Instead of laughing, Leon’s brow furrowed and he let his gaze drift to the side.

“I’m sorry he went after you like that. He was just scared. Umbrella’s caused him a lot of pain, he has his right to be angry. I’m sorry I didn’t clear things up soon enough. I could’ve prevented that.” Leon was angry at himself more than anything, he didn’t blame either of the others.

“Hey, don’t say that. I don’t think anyone was in the wrong here, no? Besides, we worked it out. Everything’s okay, cariño.” The word slipped from Luis’s mouth before he could process what he’d said. 

Leon didn’t mention it, sat down beside Luis on the couch. Luis thought he could see a light blush on his cheeks, but perhaps that was just wishful thinking.

“Not going to patch me up after all, then?” Luis asked, noting the lack of bandages as Leon sat down.

“Oh, well I figured you should probably shower before we put clean bandages on. I can help you take these ones off though.” Leon said, already leaning forward to start unbuttoning Luis’s shirt again. 

“Ah, so smart Sancho. Guess there’s some brains to go with that brawn after all.” Leon huffed out a laugh at the comment, not looking up from his task. 

“You didn’t think I was smart before? How rude.” Leon replied, but Luis was no longer listening. Chris had stepped out of the bathroom and was watching the two of them on the couch.

Luis hesitated only for a second before deciding what to do. Maybe it was petty, but he felt like he deserved to be a little petty after his earlier scuffle with Chris. So he reached his hand up to cup Leon’s cheek, tilting his face up to meet his gaze.

“Gracias, hermoso. You’re so good to me.” Luis said, soft enough to be tender while still loud enough from Chris to hear. Before he could even look up to gauge his reaction, he heard heavy footsteps stomping away from the living room.

Leon took the chance to break eye contact between them, turning as he heard the sound. Luis could definitely see him blushing this time, and he smiled to himself. 

“Suppose the shower’s free now.” Leon said, getting up from the couch. He flashed a smile at Luis before heading into the kitchen to throw the old bandages away.

Luis smiled back, picking himself up and making his way to the bathroom. He couldn’t help but feel a little proud of the reactions he’d gotten from both Leon and Chris.

Once Luis had closed the door behind him, Leon let out a small sigh of relief. Nothing had gone how he’d planned today, but things were okay now for the most part. All he really wanted to do now was sleep. He started walking to the couch before remembering Chris’s words from earlier. He knew he was serious about not letting him sleep on the couch, so he turned and headed to one of the bedrooms instead.

As he came through the door, he spotted Chris sitting on the bed staring out the window. Leon walked over and put a hand on his shoulder, causing Chris to jump slightly before looking up and seeing that it was him. 

“Sorry to surprise you, but not everyone has shit stealth like you y’know.”  Leon said, the beginnings of a smile on his lips. Chris relaxed as he looked up at him, smiling back and rolling his eyes.

“Hey, why so mean?.” Chris replied with a smile of his own, scooting over to give Leon room to sit down on the bed.

His face fell a little bit as he glanced away from Leon.

“I’m really sorry, I just freaked out when I saw it. Couldn’t think, wasn’t even really aware of what I was doing until I already had my hands on him.” Chris said softly.

“I know, I know. I don’t blame you and I doubt Luis does either. We worked it out, didn’t we?” Leon said, parroting what Luis had told him earlier. 

The image of Luis cupping Leon’s face in his hand flashed in front of Chris’s eyes, but he tried not to show his frustration.

“Yeah, yeah we did.” He said, looking back at Leon.

“I’m glad you’re here. Not just glad you’re back, I mean I am, but glad you’re here. With me. I – I missed you.” Chris admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

“I missed you too.” Leon replied, his hand finding Chris’s and giving it a small squeeze. “Let’s get some rest now, yeah? I’ll take a bed, don’t worry” Leon said before Chris could interject. He squeezed his hand one more time before standing up and walking away into the other bedroom.

Leon was out nearly the second his head hit the pillow, barely pulling the covers over himself before he was unconscious. He drifted off thinking about Luis’s hand on his face and Chris’s hand holding his, and hoped his sleep would be nightmare free.

#writevee #since apparently i write now i guess im tagging it #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #chris redfield #luis sera #luis serra #luis serra navarro #chreon #serennedy #serrenedy #im actually so proud of this ive never written this much #2.9k words!!! holy shit!!!!!!!!!! #resident evil 4 #re4 #re4r #re4make #it happens basically right after sooo #should. should i put this on ao3 #ive never done that #resident evil

[lovewheeler]

𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬 ; 𝐠. 𝐫𝐢𝐳𝐳𝐨 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n — i am…rusty so forgive me that this is so short! but i wanted to get smth out for my shawties and bc my gil brainrot is sooooo bad .. anyway enjoy! pink lady!reader, reader is latina, fem!reader <3 for @cyansadness sorry this took like eight million years </3

summary — a look into your relationship with your favorite boy, gil rizzo.

wc — 620

“hey hey hey, did’ya really think i’d let you get out without me doin’ it for you? c’mon, get back in.”

your boyfriend’s eyebrows are knit together tightly in a way you could think of as disappointed if it wasn’t for the little smirk playing at his lips.

you give him a long look, one eyebrow raised because seriously? he cannot be serious right now.

but he is, and you both stare at each other for a moment before you let out a dramatic groan and clamber back into the driver’s side of your car.

“y’know, rizzo —“ you speak as you duck back in, closing the door and clasping your hands politely in your lap, “if you had just picked me up then we wouldn’t even be havin’ this problem—“

“—that’s not my fault!” gil’s response comes out faster than you can even finish your sentence, his tone laced with offense, “i had to drop betty off today! and she was very upset she couldn’t see you, by the way, talked my ear off the entire drive about how it wasn’t fair that she ‘had to be stuck with her idiot brother and not his cool girlfriend’. personally i think it’s gotta be that time of the month or somethin’ because—“

gil cuts himself off the second he sees the glare you give him, immediately holding his hands up, “sorry, sorry! i’ll stop talking, i should definitely stop talking.”

“proud of you, you never realize it that quickly.” you grin, watching him open your car door and reaching your hand out in a very practiced gesture. the feel of his larger hand holding yours is familiar, comforting, and you can’t help but feel your face heat up at the touch. quickly you deflect, “and make sure to tell betty i’ll take her out for a manicure soon. no icky boys invited.”

gil holds his heart as if he’s been shot and the giggle it pulls from you is completely unintentional.

how annoying. you’ve been with gil for how long and he still makes you feel like a little girl writing “mrs. richie valdovinos <3” in your diary (if anyone reminds gil of this he might kill them).

gil closes the door behind you and you smile up at him, already turning so he can help you put your favorite article of clothing on — your pretty pink jacket. nancy had even added a sweet heart next to your name, as per your request (though she had to let you know she hated it).

“thank you, amor.” you grin, going onto your tip toes so you can press a soft kiss to his lips. his hands come to rest on your waist and when you pull back the bright blush on his cheeks is evident in spite of his efforts to hide it. you like him like this, vulnerable and sweet and hopelessly lovesick.

the second your lips touch again you pause, leaning back to raise an eyebrow at him, “baby, what time is it?”

“two thirty, pretty girl, why?”

“god dammit, i’ve got class — walk me there?”

gil shoots you a grin that reminds you of the day you two met and you fell in love, nodding and quickly spinning you so you two can start walking.

his hand finds its way to what seems like its forever home, the back pocket of your blue jeans, and you feel your heart flutter in your chest; it’s a feeling you don’t think you’ll ever get used to, but to you that’s not a bad thing.

it just means that gil rizzo will always have the annoyingly endearing ability to make you remember exactly why you fell in love in the first place.

tagging some of my rotpl babes (i’m sorry if you didn’t wanna be tagged but I figured you’d like it </3): @sirenlulls @angeltails @fabiolajyx

#gil rizzo x reader #rise of the pink ladies x reader #grease: rise of the pink ladies #gil rotpl x reader #gil rizzo imagines #damn fr no other tags #anyway #mine.

[ghost-party]

I wrote these while substitute teaching. 😂 This is pretty much a shitpost, so please don’t take anything seriously. I definitely didn’t.

Eren: has a strong disdain for the current state of the educational system // always butts heads with admin // the loud teacher (when he’s quiet, be afraid) // will fight anyone who talks shit about his students // keeps extra hair ties in his desk

Armin: keeps the most meticulous notes and lesson plans // really puts his all into his classes // almost too passionate when it comes to public speaking, can sometimes get a little scary // has a classroom goldfish // most parents’ favorite

Jean: hates when students talk while he’s talking // the “hot” teacher, but he hates when his coworkers tease him for it // sarcastic, but he really does care // cries every year when his students graduate, but DON’T BRING IT UP

Connie: the goofball teacher // goes all out on spirit days and holidays, has a whole costume closet // his sub plans consist of watching movies // one of the biggest troublemakers in the faculty, absolutely will prank you

Marco: the sweetest overall, but he doesn’t let kids walk all over him // remembers students’ names and their likes/dislikes and extracurriculars years later // keeps small plants on his windowsill // Jean is his anger translator

Levi: the no-nonsense teacher // always trying to get his coworkers to clean the fucking teachers’ lounge // doesn’t give homework but expects work to get done during class // adopts a stray cat hanging around the staff parking lot

Erwin: the very professorial teacher // owns a ridiculous number of sweaters // always misplacing his reading glasses // teaches honors and AP classes // writes daily inspirational quotes on the board // can silence a room with a look

Hange: the “mad scientist” teacher // prioritizes students’ safety over their own // forever over-caffeinated // prone to rambling tangents // always prepared to go on a field trip // has a truly baffling organizational system, is never caught up

Miche: the laidback teacher // has the coolest ties, one for every occasion // kids call him “Mr. Z” // probably coaches a sport, maybe soccer // encourages good hygiene because teenagers because of his keen sense of smell

Moblit: anxious but highly organized // constant imposter syndrome, no matter how long he’s been doing this // has a hard time saying no when asked to help with after school activities // would do anything for his students // incredibly helpful

Nile: the grumpy teacher // NOT a morning person // never knows how to fix the printer, usually jams it // his pet peeve is texting during class // there’s a stick-figure drawing of him on a boys’ bathroom stall, probably with devil horns

Kenny: does not give a single fuck // smokes in his car during planning periods and lunch // seems like a total slacker but somehow stays on top of things // has to duck under doorways // keeps a swear jar on his desk, and it’s always full

Reiner: the cool teacher // big mental health advocate, always reminding students to take breaks and not stress // coaches a sport but also advises the writing club // a former jock with a sensitive side // always gets the most gifts

Bertholdt: the quiet teacher // very good at what he does, but public speaking makes him feel nauseated // keeps antacids in his desk // cozy sweater collector // tries to go to all his students’ sporting events and plays // never forgets lunch

Porco: doesn’t tolerate any kind of disrespect // overly competitive, even with students // acts tough but is actually great with kids // try to fight his students, and he’ll fight you in the parking lot (or at least try to) // keeps a comb in his desk

Zeke: the pretentious teacher // was (and still is) a hipster // strokes his beard when mulling over a question // sometimes sounds condescending even when he doesn’t mean to // stays up too late // please check his travel mug for whiskey

#attack on titan #aot #attack on titan headcanons #aot headcanons #eren jaeger #armin arlert #jean kirstein #connie springer #marco bodt #levi ackerman #erwin smith #hange zoe #miche zacharias #moblit berner #nile dok #kenny ackerman #reiner braun #bertholdt hoover #porco galliard #zeke jaeger