#can anyone else feel when someone they care about starts to get bored of them

[yesimwriting]

thinking about bestfriend!felix who's known for being touchy within his social circle, so when he holds your hand as you walk around campus and leaves giggly kisses against your cheek, your jaw, your neck after a few drinks, you think nothing of it.

especially because it comes up in conversation from time to time. everyone that hangs out with him regularly enough has at least one story: felix smoothed circles against my back until i fell asleep on the bathroom floor after a party; he's kissed the top of my head twice; i've never seen him end a hug first.

and you've seen things--at parties, while studying, while out with friends in general. so you genuinely have no reason to think there's anything strange or different about the way he treats you, and neither does anyone else.

at first.

one night, when you're still new enough to felix and his world that you feel extremely out of place at a party that he invited you to, he calls you over to where he and his friends are sitting. you walk over to them, greeting everyone politely before moving to take the available space next to felix.

he grabs your wrist before you can actually sit. you're confused, but given little time to react. felix mumbles an absentminded, "c'mere" before pulling you towards his lap. it's a little flustering, but you sit, because that's just how felix is.

okay. normal enough. conversation continues. no one thinks twice about it. farleigh thinks it's a bit of overkill, but just assumes it's a combination of alcohol and maybe an attempt at laying the groundwork to hook up with you a little later in the night.

then, someone asks about potential vacation plans over break and farleigh brings up an inside joke from the last trip he and felix went on. it's casual, but it's clear that felix is supposed to say something.

farleigh looks over in time to see felix holding one of your hands to his lips. alright. still not the most egregious display of platonic affec--felix takes his time pressing kisses to each of your knuckles.

it's not just the gesture. it's the way felix watches your reaction through his lashes and the amount of care in his focus. as if you're the only one in the room. there's a patience there that's practically devoted.

maybe farleigh had it wrong. he thought you were just one of those platonic friends that felix would cart around for a few months before getting bored. maybe it's more romantic, or at the very least sexual.

then felix's eyebrows draw together. "you're cold." you start to say that you're fine, but before you can get the words out, felix is holding both of your hands between his.

in the beat that it takes farleigh to recover from the slightly nauseating display, the rest of the group has gone quiet. they're all watching felix dote on you like you're the reason for the moon hanging in the sky. annabel whispers something about the "unsuspecting".

farleigh eventually tries again, directly stating felix's name. he finally looks up, a little confused, as if coming out of a trance. farleigh repeats his earlier comment, finally getting a reaction from felix. the group recovers because while the moment had been almost uncomfortably intimate for something so casual, this is far from the first time felix has started (casually) seeing an 'outsider'.

some time passes and you finish your first drink. when felix notices, he asks if you want another. you tell him that you don't mind getting your own, but felix is insistent. you stand so that he can get up.

a part of you wishes you could have found an excuse to go with him. the gesture, in theory, is nice, but without felix's protection, being left with his friends feels like he's thrown you to the wolves.

annabel, a little tipsy and now curious asks, "so, how long have you and felix..." she trails off with a knowing look.

you kind of get what she's implying, but it feels like too random and too unfitting of an assumption to be accurate. "oh, we've been friends since around right after syllabus week, felix ask--"

"no," she shakes her head, "i mean--" she tries again, this time asking with precise language.

your face grows a few degrees warmer. "oh." the slight laugh that follows the syllable is too genuine for it to be you playing coy. "no, it's not--we're friends."

friends. you genuinely believe it. annabel fixes you with a tight lipped smile that makes something in your stomach knot.

you decide that her question must have been prompted by you sitting on felix's lap. you've also heard enough stories about them to assume that they have an on again off again, sort of thing, and because you really don't want to make an enemy of her, you try to justify it, "that was just--you've known him way longer, he's just like that."

oh my god. he's fooled you. completely convinced you that that's normal. before annabel can really react, felix comes back. he hands you your drink and kisses your cheek before sitting down next to you. he doesn't ask you to go back to where you were sitting before, but he does keep a hand on your knee.

----

some bestfriend!reader concepts ft oliver

another bestfriend! felix blurb :)

bestfriend! felix and reader basically dating

#kind of want to write more bestfriend!felix at some point #saltburn x reader #saltburn imagine #felix catton x reader #felix catton #bestfriend!felix #jacob elordi #jacob elordi x reader

[seichira]

is it just me?

itoshi rin is tormented by the lingering ghosts of your tragic breakup. he is cold and he lives with the burden of missing you. he wonders if you are hurting too, or is it just him?

pairing : itoshi rin x reader

content : hurt and comfort. exes to lovers. messy breakup. accusations of cheating (no actual cheating). insecurities. mentions of alcohol. cursing.

it’s one in the morning and rin is surrounded by his friends and acquaintances but still, he feels cold. even with the alcohol in his system that he drank to purposely warm him, it’s cold.

it has been this way for nearly a year now. eleven months and a couple weeks, if anyone is counting. a few days more and it would be the anniversary of your breakup.

the nearer it gets to twelve months without you, the colder it gets. right now, even with the perfectly working heater in one of his teammate’s penthouse, rin shivers.

it’s cold.

he never thought it could be this cold.

rin knows why he feels like this. he knows exactly why he wakes up and goes to bed alone. the reason why his life is dull and empty is not a secret to him—he just won’t acknowledge it.

he refuses to admit to himself that the reason why he has been suffering for the past eleven months of his life is because you’re not here.

how could he admit it? how could he ever address that your absence it what causes his pitiful state, when he brought it upon himself.

it was his fault that you’re not here. he wanted this. well, he had thought that he wanted this.

there is no way he could welcome the thought that he misses you when he was the one who drove you away, right? there is no use.

it’s too late now. all he could do is go out with his teammates on nights like this and pretend as if he wasn’t freezing from the inside out.

“damn, this is so boring,” seishiro sits down beside him on the sofa and rin tenses at the presence of the white-haired boy.

he does not know what to do because among everyone else in this crowded room, you are most connected to nagi seishiro. your best friend. and he has long been your best friend before you and rin even got together.

how is rin supposed to act around the person who is still in your life while he himself isn’t? this man seated next to him knows where you are right now and what you have been doing, while rin has absolutely no idea how you are.

“didn’t think i’d see you here, itoshi,” nagi speaks again. rin hums in acknowledgment, “thought it wouldn’t be so bad to come.”

there is this unspoken understanding between them, that both of them are thinking about you. after all, aside from soccer, all they have in common is their connection to you.

nagi debates whether he should tell you that he saw rin tonight or keep it to himself so as to not instigate negative feelings from you.

rin wonders if he should start asking about you. he decides against it and pretended to busy himself with his cellphone to avoid further conversation with your best friend.

he convinces himself that he does not care. he acts like he doesn’t want to know how you are. he tries to make himself believe that as long as he can fake it, it will somehow be true.

jokes on him, really.

meguru approaches nagi next to him and rin is planning to ignore him like he usually does, but the words that comes out of meguru’s mouth made that utterly impossible.

“nagi! i saw y/n by the bookstore earlier this afternoon, didn’t you ask her to come? i invited her but she said you didn’t mention anythin’ about a party!”

the mere mention of your name makes rin’s heart stop. it has been a very long time since he heard someone mention your name casually around him. now that your name has been dropped, everything comes crashing down on him, and he cannot breathe.

“oh, damn, i’m sorry—“ bachira seems to notice his mistake upon not seeing rin next to nagi. they know not to carelessly throw your name around because at first, it affected his performance. now, it is apparent that you affect him in and out of the game.

“excuse me.”

rin is cold. it’s like ice is running through his veins as he stands up and rushes to leave the suffocating penthouse.

rin runs out to the street and for the first time since he lost you, he names the sinking feeling in his stomach that won’t go away.

for the first time since you walked out the door of your shared apartment, rin finally admits it.

he misses you.

he is longing for you like how the moon misses the sun but never meets it enough. it burns and it is freezing all at the same time because when you were here, he felt nothing but the assurance of your love.

he runs, and runs, and runs. it’s dark and it’s cold, but he runs. he runs in hopes that he could change the past. he runs with the burning desire to correct his faults and take back all the hurt he inflicted on you.

maybe then, you’d be here.

maybe then, it wouldn’t be so cold.

“are you seriously accusing me of that, rin? are you hearing yourself right now?” the hurt was evident in your tone as you watched the love of your life with all of his guards up.

his glares were accusing as if what he saw was an unforgivable betrayal. he had seen you talking to his brother, sae, and rin was quick to act out of pure rage and jealousy.

“you were flirting with my fucking brother!” he spat out, and he knew it was irrational.

he knew he was wrong about and that you would never be able to do that to him, but his years of pent up frustration and hatred towards his brother made it impossible to remember his trust in you.

“and i already told you i wasn’t, rin. i was talking to him. i bumped into him at the coffee shop while i was getting your usual morning drink when he saw me and i sat down for a little chat! that was all, baby. believe me.”

you deserved an award with how well you held up, with how patient you were with him despite his hurtful accusations towards you.

no one else understood him like you did, and you knew to be more patient with him in times like these. you were aware of how his brother affected him and how he just needed someone to stick with him through it.

“well, fuck that! you shouldn’t have been with him in the first place! sae wants everything that i have and now, he’s tryna get you too!”

it almost made you flinch, with his tone rising and his voice getting louder. he is furious, and you try to disregard the sting of his words now that his fury is directed at you.

“i’m sorry, alright? it wasn’t my intention to hurt you, rin. he’s your brother and i thought it would be nice to ask him how he is and—“

rin cut you off like he couldn’t comprehend a word that you were saying. “that’s bullshit and you know it! just fuckin’ tell me the truth! that like everyone and everything else, you’re gonna leave me for him!”

it frustrated you that he blocked all your explanations out. you were growing weary with the accusations thrown at you, but you continued. you continued to reason with him because you knew him. you knew he needed someone to stay. and above all, you tried further because you were in love with him.

you loved rin three years before you finally got together. your two years together made that five. that was five years of your life being deeply in love with someone whom you thought was going to be your husband and the father of your kids.

that amount of time may not be much when viewed through the generations of people who loved each other, but for the both of you, those five years were enough to build a life and create an ideal future with the other.

so, yeah. it never occurred to you to give up in that argument. there was no chance in hell that you would leave him high and dry.

“it’s not like that, rin. i am never going to leave you for anyone, much less for your brother! i need you to listen to me! we talked! that’s it!”

“you’re lying to me. i know it.”

you shake your head in exhaustion. “i talk, and i talk, and i talk—and you don’t hear a thing.” a lone tear falls from your eye without realizing.

his sharp stare does not falter. all he could see was red. the scene of you and sae together replayed over and over again in his mind.

you, the person he loved most, with the person who took everything away from him. it killed him to imagine a future where it is not you and him, but you and sae.

“i’m in love with you. only you. i cannot see myself with anyone else and i thought you knew that, rin. i get that your brother strikes a vein in you but don’t i at least deserve to be heard? we’re better than this.”

“yeah? and i thought you’d be better than acquainting with sae like that. you knew how i felt about him, and you did this? fuck that.”

rin walked out on you that night without another word. it felt like he also walked out on your relationship because he started training more. this meant leaving before you even woke up and going home when you were fast asleep.

during those weeks when rin avoided you like the plague despite living under one roof, you felt completely alone and isolated. you were lonely. he spoke to you in words, and he treated you as if your encounter with sae was enough for him to give it all up.

until one day, he comes home to a living room full of bags and boxes. you were there, waiting for him with a tired smile on your face.

for the first time, rin realized that the black circles under your eyes have grown where they weren’t before. he noticed that you are all cried out and now, you’ve got no tears to shed as you leave him.

“w-what’s all this?”

“i’m leaving. i’m sorry for not getting out of your hair faster. it was really hard to look for another apartment that was within my budget but don’t worry, i figured it out.”

“leaving? leaving me? leaving… this house?” which one is it? or fuck, is it both?

“mhm. i f-figured it’s not healthy for us to live under the same roof after everything. i wouldn’t want you to be uncomfortable in your own space just because i’m here, so…”

did you really think he wanted you to leave? he wanted to explain. he wanted to tell you that he only acted that way because he was hurt and he was guilty! you don’t have to leave!

but he’s frozen from where he stood. the sight of all your stuff packed up and ready to go was a little bit too much for him.

you stood from where you were seated among the bags and boxes, and you stop in front of him. again, you smile gracefully, in contrast to the breaking heart that almost killed you.

“and rin? i’m sorry again for what happened with sae. i should’ve known better than to do that to you, and i understand that you don’t want to do anything with me because of that.”

he shook his head but you missed it because you walked past him with some of your bags in your hand. “y/n, no. i—“

you hear it and for a moment, you delude yourself into thinking that he will ask you to stay. but he doesn’t continue.

he stops because how could he ask you to stay after how he treated you? it was his fault for not listening and in the end, it was you who apologized? in what fucking universe do i deserve this angel, huh?

he doesn’t stop you from leaving because in that very moment, the thought of you finally escaping from him and his hurtful treatment towards you didn’t seem so bad.

“so, i guess… i’ll see you around. nagi will be around to grab my remaining stuff, so try not to kill each other, yeah?” you try to play it off cool, mask the fact that inside, everything is falling apart.

rin nods but he stayed with his back facing you. until the end, he did not have the guts to face you. to face what he had done to you and your relationship.

suddenly, everything grew cold. everything lost their color. the empty corners of where your warmth used to be mocked him.

for nearly a year since then, he has lived and suffered with the mistakes he did. he didn’t know what to tell people when they started asking about you. he didn’t know how to ride the train without holding your hand. he didn’t know how to be soaked in the shower without letting his tears flow freely.

he wondered endlessly as he daydreamed of speaking to you again: are you hurting too, or is it just me?

his endless running brings him to your street where you moved when you left him. his feet takes him farther than he expected because this street is on the opposite part of town from your shared apartment, a telltale sign that you tried to get as far away as possible.

evidently, it is not far enough because on your way home from the convenience store, you run into your ex-boyfriend. rin is first to notice your presence, and instead of freezing up like he did when you left, he walks up to you.

“rin?” you are confused and nervous. after all, the last time you had seen him was almost a year ago. you never tried to see him again.

“it hurts.”

the two words he just confessed are two words that he has never said together in a sentence ever in his life. itoshi rin never admits it when something is hurting him. he never tells anyone when he is in pain.

for him to say that now, it is a cry for you to soothe him in a way that only you could, and you know this because you know him better than the back of your hand.

standing a meter away from you underneath a street lamp, itoshi rin confesses his truth.

“it hurts, y/n. it hurts without you. it feels like i can’t breathe. it is so cold without you. it hurts so badly. i thought i could live with it eventually—but i can’t. it only gets worse.”

rin sees your shoulders shake in your attempt to conceal your sobs but you are failing miserably, and so does he. you don’t say anything and rin figures that’s fair.

you already tried to talk. you already told him everything you needed to hear on the night of the fight that ruined your relationship. it’s his turn to tell you everything you deserve to hear.

but he isn’t as good as you when it comes to words. he thinks about how he accused you of cheating on him. he thinks about how he shut you out and left you feeling lonely. he thinks about every day that he could have chased after you but didn’t. he thinks about all of that and he thinks about how he’s sorry.

and he manages to get that last part out, hoping that you would get it. hoping that the deep-rooted connection between the two of you is enough to let you know what he means.

“i’m sorry.”

you drop your groceries to the ground and you close the meter of distance between the two of you. you welcome him in his arms but he wraps his arms around you tighter than you welcomed him, because he is afraid that if he doesn’t, he will lose you again.

“that is all i needed to hear from you, rin. i never wanted much from you. just you and your love. i just needed to know that you still felt that for me, and when i didn’t… i had no other choice to walk away.”

rin nods against your neck and you feel his tears staining your shoulder. “i’m sorry. forgive me, please. i love you. i love you. and i trust you. more than anyone, baby. i promise.”

“you know i could never hurt you like you thought i did—“ you recalled, but rin cuts you off because he can’t bear another second of you defending yourself when you shouldn’t be.

“i know. i know.”

his embrace around you tightens, and he does not care if anyone could look out from their windows and see the soccer star practically begging for you in the middle of the night. not when he is in your arms again after months of only dreaming about it and wishing for it.

“it hurt too much without you too, rin. i had to remind myself that i can’t run to you for warmth. i took everything in me not to throw away my dignity to beg you to bring me back.”

that answers his question.

in his absence, you were hurting too. your separation killed you just like how it killed him.

“no. no—don’t have to beg for it, baby. i should be on my knees to thank you for even taking me back like this because—shit—i swear that i wouldn’t have lasted another day.”

you run your hands through his hair before briefly pulling away to cup his cheek in your hands, and he fondly leans on your touch.

“for the entire year, i thought it was just me who longed for you, rin.”

you couldn’t be any more wrong.

“i begged the stars and the skies for this very moment. it wasn’t just you.”

#⏳ — lumi’s fics! #is it really seichira if it’s not angst #it’s a signature at this point #blue lock #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock fics #bllk #bllk fics #blue lock fluff #blue lock angst #itoshi rin #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin fics #itoshi rin angst #itoshi rin fluff

[megumishotgf]

pov: megumi has a crush on you

summary: more megumi headcanons i fear… ya’ll like my texts way more so this is definitely written for me.

warnings: reference to catcalling? other than that sfw + gender non-specified!!

masterlist

reserved! megumi who takes his time getting to know you. he studies all your qualities and aspects personality as if one day he’ll be quizzed on your features. megumi admires your ambition and drive but most of all your tenderness and selflessness. he’s drawn to people with good and expressive hearts. people who like to help others and perform nice gestures just because they can.

attentive! megumi who focuses diligently when you’re speaking, concentrating on every single trivial detail, even those that slip absent-mindedly past your lips without much thought. he listens to you ramble on and on about your interests yet it never bores him (and he gets bored of people alright). speaks so softly with you in a tone that surprises everyone around you (mainly nobara and yuji who have never seen him so interested in another human before… he’s always this soft to animals, though).

nerdy! megumi who prefers reading non-fiction but will pick up your favourite fantasy novels just because he wants to feel close to you. seeing your eyes light up when he mentions the titles to you makes his heart swell. highlights his favourite quotes and annotates in between pages. he’ll share them with you, gaze fixated on you as your eyes scan over all of this thoughtful comments. you feel such genuine happiness knowing he has gone so far to do this for you.

sappy! megumi who picks up one of your romance suggestions next, finding himself relating to the hopelessly enamoured protagonist. again, he annotates his copies and scribbles exclamation marks when he comes across passages that resonate with his growing feelings for you. doesn’t show you these ones, of course. at least not yet.

shy! gumi who admires your kindness from afar. all the little things you go out of your way to do just to help someone else. when you assist yuuji in the kitchen with his high-protein meals or paint nobara’s nails with great precision. when you’re the first to offer your seat up for an elderly woman on the metro or when you bounce out of your seat to help your teachers carrying piles of school documents.

observant! megumi who notices all of your little habits. the kind of things that make you feel so loved and cared for when he mentions them back to you. those things that no one else really noticed even if you badly wanted it to be seen.

love-sick! megumi would configures multiple playlists about you. one playlist containing all your favourite tracks and another with all those that you recommended to him directly. the type to listen to ‘i wanna be yours’ and fall asleep to thoughts of being with you. so many random romantic playlists often come up on his spotify profile. one time he made you a physical mixtape. yes, it was mostly just love songs… you swore it was just a coincidence. mostly.

insecure! megumi who constantly thinks he could never be good enough for you. dismisses your concern when you notice him distancing himself (because somehow you can distinguish between this and his usual quietness) but can never fully push you away. feels his heartbeat accelerate when you offer him physical comfort (with less reluctance than with anyone else). hugs from you are so comforting.

touch-starved! megumi who craves your physical affection all the time and it gets very noticeable. his arms instinctively circle around your waist whenever you greet him, rushing over for a hug. at first it was always you initiating the affection, but it’s starting to feel so natural reciprocating it. your hand will subtly slip into his when you are walking around central tokyo together or you’ll cling onto his side for comfort and warmth. he worries that you’ll be able to hear his obnoxiously loud heartbeat when you do so, but nothing could make him pull away.

annoyed! megumi who glares at his friends when they tease him about your physical affection (or when they hear your nicknames for him). but at least they have the decency to wait until you’ve left, he thinks. i give them one more week, yuuji says to nobara as megumi walks away in the same direction you just went.

if looks could kill… nobody would want to experience angry! megumi. even yuuji and nobara started to feel unsettled seeing him like that after some old loser started to catcall you. you had barely registered what was called out to you before he fearfully disappeared around the corner.

kind! megumi who opens his arms for you when he sees you’re upset. sometimes struggles with verbal comfort, but he remembers how nice it is to be hugged by you, so surely this should help. it does help - and he feels his heart swell when you thank him for being there for you.

even more nervous! megumi who finally musters the courage to confess his feelings for you. rehearses the speech in his head (and surprisingly to yuuji) tens of times only to be left astounded after you make the confession first. finally kissing you felt like the sun rising after months of darkness.

megumi who has infinite amounts of layers!! getting to know him is truly a magical experience. ultimate green flag he is perfect end of discussion!!

haven’t published anything in so long… hey ya’ll. how is everyone doing. pls send requests i am out of ideas!!

#jjk x reader #megumi x reader #megumi fushiguro x reader #fushiguro x reader #megumi comfort #megumi headcanons #megumi my beloved #jjk drabbles

[redflagshipwriter]

Nest Swap ch 1

Little Tim wakes up in big Tim's apartment.

The idea came from this chain started by @ew-selfish-art and the contribution by @faeriekit

(repost of something that's currently just in a reblog chain)

His first observation was that this wasn't his house.

Tim was new to detecting, but he thought that was a pretty dang salient observation.

He didn't actually remember going to sleep. It didn't feel like he woke up here, either. He just suddenly noticed he was sitting somewhere he'd never been in his whole 9 years of life.

Very weird! Pretty neat, though.

Tim prowled around in his socked feet in total silence, investigating by the little light that came in through mostly shut curtains. He wasn't in his own clothes, which was kind of scary. He had to keep hiking up his sweatpants to keep them on, and he rolled down his socks three times to tighten them up. At least the floors didn't creak at all, even when he stepped on the dark wood panels in between dark red rugs. It made him feel more secure to move around quietly.

He was in an apartment that seemed relatively expensive but new, no antiques or family heirlooms. It was an open plan, with floating stairs and a white sofa. It was also sterile, as if no one really lived in it. It was clean in the same un-lived in way his house was. Someone professionally cleaned this apartment. 

Tim was really, really careful not to make any mess. 

Theory one: he had been kidnapped. It seemed pretty sound. He went to bed at home, and he woke up sitting on a strange sofa. Danger alarms were going off.

He looked around for a house phone to call for help. There was none. Troubling. 

On the other hand, Tim opened the apartment door to the hallway and stuck his head out. He could see sunlight coming in through the huge lobby windows.

…Okay. He was going to consider that a viable escape route. He glanced at the side of the door where there was a pair of shoes. They were big but he could probably use them in a pinch.

So. He could just walk out at any time. He frowned. That wasn't very good kidnapping practice. He would plan a much better restraint system. Like, a rope would be a good place to start, or maybe breaking the little bones in his feet? 

“This is so disappointing,” Tim muttered to himself. “I'm not even being ransomed?” 

Just… Some effort would be nice.

Hmm. He didn't want to believe anyone that incompetent had managed to transport him into Gotham proper from Bristol while he slept. So. Tim formally recategorized his kidnapping theory to a  suspected no. 

It was undeniable that he'd been moved in his sleep, which was pretty classic. But the counter evidence? The new location looked pretty easy to escape, if he was willing to get his socks dirty outside. 

Conclusion: This probably wasn't a conventional kidnapping. What else was there?

Theory two: he hit his head or fell asleep while he was out birdwatching, and some good person took them into their house to keep him safe.

That neatly explained why he was in the actual city. Tim ran his fingers through his hair looking for a bump. He wasn't sure if he found one or not. Maybe his head was just kind of oddly shaped. Troubling. Maybe he should go to the doctor about that. 

It would have been helpful information either way if there had been another human being around to talk to. 

There were signs that someone lived here. Tim poked around in the closet and in the fridge, building a mental profile for the resident.

One person lived here, and they were clearly kind of a loser because they had no photos of friends or family up. The jacket hanging by the door told Tim they were either an average sized woman or a small man. They couldn't cook at all, which was excellent because that meant there was a really great variety of ready to eat food. Tim snacked on string cheese and a can of soda while he flipped through the books on the shelves.  He pulled a couple off to check for secret compartments. Nope. Just books.

“Boring,” Tim said to himself. 

They were all books about things like business and management. It was the type of self-aggrandizing garbage that his parents made fun of: memoirs that you knew damn well that person hadn't written, manifestos on the virtues of hard work from someone born into the financial elite, and how-to's directed at an audience who had no personal shame.

Momentarily, he entertained the fantasy that he had been kidnapped by someone who was going to mold him into the ideal Drake Industries CEO, someone who wouldn't jet off across the world to follow a passion. The suspects were the entire board of directors. 

Kidnapped theory redux: the Board of Directors did it. Evidence?

Tim sat down and made a chart for his thoughts, quantifying how much each person had been inconvenienced by his parents’ absence in the last fiscal year. He concluded that Mr. Morrison might hate his parents enough to do it, but the projected timeline was beyond his scope. Tim didn't think he had it in him to plan that far out.

So, the apartment owner was just a boring person. Tim made a note. Theory two was looking pretty good. The person who lived here kind of sucked at life but they were probably really nice.

Something started beeping. That was interesting. He followed it to the bedroom that he hadn't been brave enough to poke around yet. There was a weird tablet on the bedside table. He picked it up and it unlocked automatically. Wow, the security was so bad. He felt embarrassed on behalf of the absent apartment owner.

The screen showed an email from someone called Tamara Fox. 

“Tim, can you get me the numbers from the acquisition in Peru?”

He blinked at it. Was the person who lived here also named Tim? Surely she wasn't actually asking him. He looked around uncertainly. 

There was still no one else. The blinking display on the alarm clock told him that it was half past noon, and no one else was in the apartment. 

…. poor Tamara probably really needed that information, if she was asking for it in the middle of the workday. Tim sat down on the bed and started putting together context clothes to figure out what Miss Fox was talking about. Her email signature had her title at Wayne industries listed, so that was a pretty big clue. He had access to a team calendar that showed meetings and ongoing projects, which he used to narrow it down. 

When he figured it out, he sent her back an email and sat back in satisfaction. A moment later, he realized that the email account had an attached auto signature. It claimed to be Tim Drake-Wayne, CEO of Wayne Enterprises. 

What.

He stopped breathing and momentarily considered that he had traveled to the future and this was really his apartment, but the name was impossible. There was no way he was going to marry either one of the Waynes. Bruce and Dick were kind of old. Tim wrinkled his nose at the thought. Gross. 

So, no. He wasn't Tim Drake-Wayne. “...It must be an inside joke,” Tim decided. “It seems really unprofessional.”

Tim was a little disappointed that he wasn't the boss of everyone, but at least he wasn't in a troubling marriage with a huge age difference. He had another cheese stick about it and the feeling went away.  Ah, good. Maybe that was how Mom dealt with Drake Industries: she distracted herself until she didn't feel bad about putting it on the back burner. It was a good tactic. He'd need more cheese sticks. He made a mental note to figure out how to replace these ones.

He found a loose blanket on a side chair and tied it around his shoulders, because the apartment was pretty chilly.

The email dinged again. Tim dragged his blanket cape back into the bedroom and stared at the tablet, lost in thought.

He didn't mean to be annoying. He really didn't. He knew people hated it when you got in their stuff. But the thing was: this guy got a lot of emails. And he wasn't here to answer them, which was pretty rude of him, honestly. It seemed like his job needed him a lot. 

Maybe when he got back, he would be mad at Tim for looking at his stuff. 

On the other hand, maybe he would appreciate it. Tim told himself that it would be fine, and he manned that email account until the end of business hours at 5:00 p.m. Then he gave a luxurious stretch and went to find something interesting in the freezer that he could microwave. 

His feelings about the email account had changed, after the hours spent together. It was their mutual email account now. Tim was willing to fight about it. He was emotionally attached to that email. People asked him all sorts of questions there, and he got to answer. It was pretty fun.

The apartment looked a little friendlier in the early evening light. He crossed it again and pushed a chair up against the deep freezer so that he could root around inside.

“Omigod, lasagne!” Tim ripped the package open in his excitement. Today was the best. He liked this place. Maybe he'd get to stay there when the owner came back to look at their shared email account.

While the lasagne heated, he went back to checking for fake books on the shelf. They were all disappointments. He did finally notice that there were pets here. 

“I should feed you,” Tim told the fish, because he was really fixing this guy's life. The fish didn't pay him any attention. The microwave beeped completion, so he went back and got his lasagne. He held it in one hand and ate while he searched for fish food. When he found it, he stuck his fork in the lasagne to free up a hand and shook flakes into the water. 

A secret compartment in the floor opened up.

Tim froze. He took a step back. He looked around the apartment, as if someone was going to materialize.

“…I might as well go see,” he told himself. “They're already gonna be mad that I answered our email.”

Down he went. 

#red nest swap #dc fanfic #tim drake #tim drake deaged

[cordeliawhohung]

i’m the mood for hurt/comfort but feel free to ignore,

what about mafia!price with his darling wife who is experiencing postpartum depression

PPD is such a terrible thing to have to go through. i've had a few patients share their experiences with me, so a lot of what i've incorporated into this short drabble is based off of that as well as some other research i've done. it's an issue that's largely ignored in our society but thankfully is being brought into light more. if you're experiencing this, please reach for help if you're able. there might be more resources for you than you realize (: i'll provide a link to the PSI website, should anyone find themselves in need of their support!

warnings: anxiety, intrusive thoughts (fear of infant death/harm), depression, hurt/comfort, f!reader, everything's gonna be okay (:

mafia!141 masterlist

She won't stop crying.

It's been four hours and your ears are ringing from your daughter's high pitched screaming, and nothing you do seems to console her. No amount of bouncing or shushing or attempts to feed her will cease her wails, and you're convinced that someone is trying to punish you. So you pace around the living room with her in your arms as you try and drown out her sobs with the late night weather. The clock on the bottom right of the screen reads 1:17 AM.

John is still at work.

You start crying when the clock reads 1:42. There's a terrible ache and burn in your arms from holding her for so long, but the thought of putting her down makes you want to scream. You think of attempting to tuck her away in her crib, to shut the door to try and take a moment to breathe and your mind is filled with what ifs. What if she chokes? What if she stops breathing and you're not around to help her? What if you leave her there, all alone, and you come back to nothing but a stiff corpse?

No, you can't put her down, so you continue to pace the living room while you attempt to ignore the wet tears that smother your face and neck. Why is she still crying? Is it something you did? Something you didn't do? Maybe you're just incompetent as a mother, so much so that your own child is rejecting you. This squealing, writhing mass of flesh is proof that you never should have bore her at all.

Keys jingle outside of the front door at 1:56 and neither you nor the baby have calmed down the slightest bit. The door swings open and shuts quickly after, and it doesn't take John long to find his wife and child sobbing together in the living room. He looks like hell with messy hair and wrinkled clothes, but it's nothing at all compared to your tear stained face and puffy eyes.

"Oh, darling," he breathes.

He crosses the room in an instant, but before he has time to question you, you hold the baby for him to take. There's an obvious tremble in your grip, and your biceps strain and cry out from the movement. Terrified you'll drop her, you all but shove her into his chest before he has the chance to scoop her up properly.

"Take her," you say through a sob. "I can't. I can't fucking do this."

Words leave his mouth but don't quite hit your ears. They're ringing much too loud for you to pay attention to anything other than the dread eating through your stomach.

Your tears don't stop when you leave the living room, or the house for that matter. Cool air teases the still wet streaks on your face, and with your hands free you can finally wipe them clean, though it doesn't make you feel any better. The backyard looks strange at night without any lights to illuminate it, and maybe you would feel creeped out or even scared if you could find it within you to even care about yourself in that moment.

When your legs can no longer carry you, you find yourself in the grass. Perfectly manicured and kept, it makes the perfect surface for you to sit on while you sob into your hands, powerless to do anything else. Something is wrong with you. There has to be. You couldn't comfort your daughter, couldn't get her to feed, couldn't do anything but hold her and pray it would all stop.

You aren't sure what time it is when you hear footsteps approaching behind you, but you don't have to turn around to know it's John. Tears have stopped pouring down your cheeks but your sobs still shake your body. John settles on the grass next to you, and you don't bother fighting against him as he pulls you into his lap.

You want to find comfort in his arms, in the way his hands rub long stripes along your back, but deep down you know you're not worth it. A pathetic excuse for a mother, you couldn't even calm his child before he got home from a long night at work.

"What's goin' on, love?" he prompts after a while.

It takes you a moment to find your words, and an even longer time before you can stop crying long enough to get any of them out. Still, John is patient with you, and he continues to rock and hold you, comforting you in the way you couldn't comfort your child.

"I wish I was a good mother," you cried, shamefully burying your face into his neck. "I can't get her to stop crying, she won't feed- nothing I do works. I'm sorry, I just can't, I don't know what to do."

John's grip on you grows tighter as you speak, and you focus on the way his thudding heart quickens at your words. One of his hands moves to the back of your head where he holds you even closer as he rests his chin on the top of your head.

"It's not your fault," he assures softly.

"It is!" you retort. "I can't bond with her, it's like she hates me. And I'm trying so hard but I can't get through to her..."

"Darling, she's just colicky, it's not your fault," he insists.

But you can't stop crying. There's a pit of hopelessness eating you from the inside out, and the pain turns your sobs into pathetic squeaks that shatters John's heart. He gently pries you away from his chest, cotton soaked and darkened from your tears, and cradles your cheeks in his hands.

"Look at me, hey," he whispers, guiding you to look at him. "You are raising a healthy, beautiful baby girl. Our baby. Sure, she's going through a fussy streak, but that's got nothin' to do with you. It's just colic, love. She'll get through it. We'll get through it."

It's difficult to agree with him, to believe him, and your confirmation feels empty in your throat when you speak. But he's looking at you with such love, like you hung the stars or...

Or like you gave him a child.

That night, John tucks you into bed and if the baby cries, you don't hear her. He spends the night tucked away in the living room on the couch, flipping through channels on the screen while shushing his fussy daughter. Her sobs had turned into heart wrenching whimpers by that point, which isn't great but is better than nothing.

When morning comes and the dull dawn light illuminates the room, John shoves his hand into his pocket and fishes out his phone. It's nearly dead since he had been on it half the night at work and didn't have the chance to charge it when he got home, but it has enough juice for him to make a quick call.

The dial tone is loud in his ear, and his daughter lets out a small whine before quickly settling down again. Simon's voice on the other end is groggy and harsh like he has gravel stuck in his vocal chords.

"Takin' the piss outta me calling me this early in the mornin' Price," he grumbles.

"You can get your beauty rest later. I need a favor," John says, ensuring that his voice stays low so as to not stir the baby. "I need some time off."

"Time off?" Simon repeats. "From the family?"

"My girls need me."

Silence fills the line. There's the slight sound of rustling, like someone's moving sheets or a duvet.

"Take care of 'em. I'll keep your boys in line," Simon replies.

There's nothing more to say after that besides a quick thanks, and as soon as the line cuts, the baby decides she isn't quite done crying yet. John shushes her as he rocks her and sits forward in his seat, pushing himself to his feet shortly after.

"Time for breakfast, is it?" he asks. Despite the sheer exhaustion that rattles his bones, he still smiles down at his daughter even though her face is too twisted with her cries to see it. "Alright sweetie, it's okay. Papa's gonna fix you something to eat."

#mafia!price #mafia!141 #john price x reader #price x reader #captain john price x reader #captain price x reader

[leahwllmsn]

16,904 | leah williamson x reader

so this was something I wrote a few years ago and I decided to change it into a leah fic cause I've been so obsessed :-)

hope you like it!

--

Melbourne

October, 2023

You finally tell your friends that you’ve been talking to someone you met online on a Friday night. The response you got is that they all think you're crazy, and you can’t blame them—saying that you have a tiny crush on this blonde who’s almost twice your height and likes football and country music without actually knowing if this said blonde exists is kind of crazy.

But you really do like talking to Leah and you could only hope that Leah is Leah and not some fifty-year-old man. 

“You don’t even know what she looks like,” one of your friends snorts. 

“It’s not always about the looks,” you argue.

“That’s true,” another one of your friends chimed in. “But you gotta admit, the looks matter a lot.”

You were about to correct her and say no, they do not, because yeah, sure, Leah is so freaking gorgeous based on the pictures on her profile, but what matters the most is that she’s so kind, and funny, and just overall amazing.

Instead you kept your mouth shut. A part of you don’t want to share Leah with anyone just yet. 

(And another part of you still needs the confirmation that that is actually Leah because god damn it Leah is the most beautiful woman you have ever seen and you wish that it’s really her.)

—

6 Oct, 9:02 pm

y/n: I told my friends about you. they think it’s weird that I’m starting something with you when we’ve never met  

y/n: it’s not weird, is it? 

leahw6: starting something huh? ;) 

y/n: shut up 

y/n: we met on tinder. what were you expecting to find? a math tutor? 

leahw6: ...  

leahw6: you’re really funny, love

leahw6: and no, it’s not weird 

y/n: good 

y/n: and for the record, even if they think it’s weird I couldn’t care less 

—

6 Oct, 9:25 pm

leahw6: just to be clear 

leahw6: ‘starting something’ that means you want to date me right 

y/n: how else could I mean that 

leahw6: idk maybe you were the one looking for a math tutor 

— 

London

October, 2023

“Where did you meet her again?”

“Tinder.”

“Tinder,” Lia repeats.

“Yes,” Leah nods. “When we were in Australia for the World Cup… I got bored one night and decided to go on Tinder.”

“And you found her there,” Lia muses, sipping on her cup of coffee. “Wait, so she lives in Australia?”

“Melbourne, yes.”

“And does she know you’re all the way here in London?”

Leah hesitates before answering. “No.”

“No?”

“No.”

“Oh boy,” Lia gives her a sympathetic look. “Does she know who you are?”

“Me… as in Leah?” Leah gives her teammate a confused look. “Yeah?”

“You as in you’re Leah Williamson.”

“Oh,” realization sunk in Leah’s face. “Then no. I mentioned I like football and she said she hates it. So, I doubt she knows who I am.”

“Oh boy.”

“I know,” Leah drops her head on the table. “I’ll tell her soon but what if it’s a deal breaker?” 

“Which part? The part where you’re a famous footballer or you live thousands of kilometers away?”

Leah grimaces “Distance problem. She already said she hates football and wouldn’t dare step foot in a football game, but it’s fine! That’s not a problem because I can and will convince her to watch one of my games.”

Lia laughs. “Sure, buddy.”

“I really like her,” Leah continues. “She’s funny and witty and passive aggressive sometimes but it’s so endearing. She has great taste in music, great taste in movies and books, and just great taste overall—”

Leah’s words get cut off with Lia’s hand on her mouth. “You’ve known her for a few weeks and this is already how you act?” Lia chuckles, taking her hand away. “You got it bad, Williamson.”

Leah groans. “I know.”

“Just tell her now. If she likes you the same way, I have a feeling that she wouldn’t mind either.”

—

24 Oct, 4:13 pm

leahw6: can we talk ?

y/n: sounds serious 

leahw6: kind of 

y/n: are you getting tired of me already :( 

leahw6: ofc not 

y/n: oh okay :D 

leahw6: idk how to say this 

y/n: do you want me to call you? 

leahw6: oh god no 

leahw6: omg wait 

leahw6: I didn’t mean that in a bad way I swear  

leahw6: it’s just that if you call me I’ll be hearing your voice for the first time and I���ll be even more nervous  

leahw6: and I don’t think I’ll be able to put out a coherent sentence bc I’ve been imagining so much what your voice would sound like with that face and all my guesses are that you have an extremely hot voice, raspy maybe?  

leahw6: but actually no I don’t think you have a raspy voice 

leahw6: a deep one maybe and holy shit a deep voice with an australian accent? I’ll faint on the spot I’m afraid  

leahw6: no you can’t call me 

y/n: okay...? 

leahw6: I’m really sorry please ignore all that 

y/n: I won’t ignore it, it’s adorable  

leahw6: you think I’m weird don’t you 

y/n: absolutely 

leahw6: great 

y/n: it just makes me like you even more

leahw6: I live in london 

y/n: as in the one in england … ? 

leahw6: is there another london I don’t know about 

[incoming call from y/n]

leahw6: why are you calling me ?! 

leahw6: I told you I’m too nervous rn 

y/n: I don’t get it. it says that you were 2km away? 

leahw6: yeah… I was on vacation… kind of...

y/n: kind of?

y/n: so you don’t actually live here? 

leahw6: y/n if I was only 2 km away from you I would make up excuses just so I can see you everyday 

y/n: how many km is it instead 

leahw6: between us?

leahw6: google says it’s 16,904 km

y/n: ??! holy shit 

leahw6: I know 

leahw6: look, I get it if you want to stop this. not everyone is cut out for long distance

y/n: we’re like

y/n: on opposite sides of the world

leahw6: I know

y/n: do you want to stop this? 

leahw6: I don’t 

y/n: then we won’t 

leahw6: are you sure 

y/n: let me call you 

leahw6: NO 

y/n: leah

leahw6: give me a day to prepare 

y/n: you’re so dumb

y/n: but fine 

y/n: do I at least get a facetime

leahw6: FACETIME? 

leahw6: no. you get a phone call. voice only

y/n: r u catfishing 

y/n: I knew it you’re too beautiful to be real 

leahw6: ha ha 

y/n: call me tomorrow okay lee? 

leahw6: okay

leahw6: and y/n

leahw6:  thank you

y/n: what for

leahw6: for giving us a chance

y/n: leah I’d be stupid not to 

—

Melbourne

November, 2023

You're in the middle of a meeting with boring, old men in suits when your phone rings—very loudly at that. You curse yourself for forgetting to put your phone on silent, quickly pressing the red circle on the screen, but not before smiling at the caller ID.

When the meeting finishes an hour later, you immediately pick up your phone and dial Leah’s number.

“Hey you.” 

You smile at the voice on the other end. “Sorry I couldn’t pick up. I was in a meeting.”

“Oh sorry, bad timing. Thought you were finished for the day”

“Bad timing indeed,” you chuckle. “It rang really loudly.”

“Y/n,” you could hear Leah’s soft giggles. “The silent feature exists for a reason.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” you take a seat in your office chair and sigh contently. “I’m glad it rang though.”

“How so?” 

“I saw your name and my mood instantly picked up.”

Leah snorts. “You’re such a sweet talker, mate.” 

You throw her head back in laughter. “But it’s true!”

Leah doesn’t say anything after that, all you could hear is the sound of chatter and honking of cars. “Where are you?”

“I just had breakfast, I’m walking to the… office.”

“You called me when you were having breakfast? Am I that much more interesting than whoever you were with?” you ask, your tone teasing.

“Of course you are,” is Leah’s reply and you could feel your stomach flipping upside down.

“Now who’s the sweet talker?”

“Still you.”

“Says the person who couldn’t stop telling me I’m pretty when we facetimed for the first time.”

Leah laughs and you really, really love the sound. “But you are pretty.”

“But I don’t think I need to hear it every five minutes.”

“Just accept the compliments, love.”

“Okay,” you relent, a grin spreading across your face. “Who did you have breakfast with?”

“Just my team– colleagues. My colleagues, Beth, Viv and Lia.”

You go silent for a few seconds, the last name ringing a bell in your head. “Lia as in your ex?”

“The one and only.”

“Oh.”

Leah must’ve sensed the jealousy in your voice (but honestly, you aren't jealous, you’re really not), because the next thing you know Leah is laughing and telling you that it didn’t work out between her and Lia because they were better off as friends.

“You see her everyday though,” you say, your voice less confident than before.

“And what about it?”

“You don’t see me everyday,” you pout, staring at a polaroid picture of Leah smiling at the camera that is stuck to the wall of your cubicle. Leah sent you a handwritten letter along with that picture a few days ago. Your roommate was the one who received it and it went something like this:

“Oh my god, there’s no way this is your Leah.”

“What?” 

“This! Is this really her?” 

“Is that Lee’s mail for me? Did you open it?!” 

“I got curious!” 

“Give me that!” 

“You never mentioned that she looks like this!” 

“I just haven’t shown you what she looks like ‘cause everyone kept on teasing me!” 

“Because she could be a fake for all we know! But holy shit, she’s soo stunning. Does she have a twin sister?”

“No.”

“A twin brother?” 

“No.” 

“Can I have her instead then?” 

“What the—no?!” 

“Fine, be stingy like that.” 

“...I’m really fine with us like this.”

You blink away images of your roommate in your head and focus your attention back to Leah’s voice. “What did you say?”

“I said I’m okay with not being able to see you everyday,” Leah repeats. “Talking to you over the phone is enough.”

You smile. “It’s enough for me too. It’d be great to have you next to me but this is good too.”

People would think otherwise but for you, having Leah a phone call away really is enough; you'd take hearing Leah's laughter through the phone than not hearing it at all.

—

10 Nov, 1:11 pm

y/n: I got a dog

leahw6: ???!! 

leahw6: Y/N CALL ME OMG 

leahw6: I WANT TO SEE 

y/n: you’re more excited to see him than me :// 

leahw6: YES 

y/n: excuse me 

leahw6: WHAT’S HIS NAME 

y/n: robert 

leahw6: ROBERT? 

y/n: yes, robert 

leahw6: he's now my favourite

leahw6: SEND PICS

y/n: :/ 

y/n:

leahw6: you know you're my favourite too  

y/n: :D 

leahw6: but I think I like robert more than you OMG HE'S ADORABLE!!!!

y/n: bye 

—

London

December, 2023

leahw6:  want to hear a funny story

y/n:  what is it

leahw6:  a guy tried to hit on me tonight

y/n:  excuse me???

[incoming call from y/n] 

“That’s not funny,” is the first thing Leah hears once she accepts the call.

“Hello to you too,” Leah stifles a laugh. You sound tense and Leah can just picture the frown on your face.

“Leah.”

“Yes, babe?” Leah learnt that the quickest way to melt away your anger is to use pet names and so for any argument (even if Leah is in the wrong), Leah would always win.

This time it doesn’t seem to work. “How is that funny again?” 

“Darling, I’m just teasing you.”

“Did a guy really hit on you?”

“Yes,” Leah answers honestly. “He bought me a drink.”

“I see.”

Leah doesn’t like how dejected you sound. So she presses the button for facetime and the first thing she sees when you accept is her girlfriend pouting at the screen.

“What are you doing?” Leah giggles.

“Is all of this funny to you?” you pout even more, your phone screen illuminating your face in the dark room.

“Did I wake you up?” Leah asks instead. She knows you like to sleep in on weekends.

“Yes, but that’s fine. You know I want to talk to you any chance I get,” you answer, shifting so that you’re now lying on your side.

“You’re the best,” Leah says as she climbs in bed, tucking herself under the covers.

“Obviously,” you scoff. “Unlike that stupid guy who doesn’t know you’re off-limits.”

Leah grins at the annoyed look you’re giving her. “Baby?”

“Hm?”

“It’s so cute when you’re jealous.”

You roll your eyes. “Of course I’m jealous. He gets to be within your presence while I’m stuck here, freaking sixteen thousand kilometres away from you. It’s unfair.”

Leah sends her a soft smile. “But you’re the one I’m talking to every day, so who’s the real winner here?” The frown is still present on your face and Leah wants nothing more than to kiss it away—so that’s what she did.

“Leah, what the hell are you doing?”

“Kissing you,” Leah answers simply, kissing her screen again.

And when Leah hears laughter from the other end, her heart feels much lighter.

“Lee, have you cleaned your phone? That’s gross.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to be romantic.”

“Cute, but maybe clean your phone first.”

Leah rolls her eyes at you, her smile never leaving her face. “At least I made you laugh.”

“You always make me laugh,” you say, your face so close to her camera that the entirety of Leah’s screen is just a close up of your face. Leah’s heart swells in adoration at the sight.

“Did you have a good night's sleep?” Leah asks.

You hum in answer. “Now it’s your turn to get a good night’s sleep.”

You could see how hard Leah is trying to keep her eyes open.

“This sucks, time difference sucks” Leah pouts. “I just want to talk to you.”

“Baby,” you give her a sad smile. “It is how it is. We’ll talk more when you wake up.”

“Yes, captain,” Leah gives you grin, her eyes fully closed.

“Good night, Leah. Sweet dreams.”

You watch Leah go to sleep for a few minutes, the sound of her soft snores making it seem like she’s right next to you. 

That night Leah dreams that you're right next to her, holding her close and keeping her warm on the cold winter night.

#leah williamson #leah williamson x reader #woso #woso community #woso fanfics #leah williamson imagine #awfc x reader #lionesses x reader #woso x reader

[dirtyvulture]

Dear Diary

*Set in the Darkest Knight AU*

Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Mutant!Reader

18+ only, read at your own risk

Word count: 4459

Summary: Natasha embraces her new life as an X-Men.

AN: I'm back with a little one shot. :) Enjoy!

December 6, 2023

Dear Diary,

Is that an appropriate way to start one of these? I’ve never kept a diary or a journal before. But Marie gave me this cute little notebook and said writing stuff down helps clear her mind, so I don’t think there’s any harm in giving it a shot. They would never let us have something like this in the Red Room. Too much evidence lying around for someone to stumble upon. Should I put a lock on this? Y/N wouldn’t snoop around to read this, would she? Well, I guess if she is–leave my diary alone, you big dummy!

The professor said the Red Room soldiers and Widows are coming tomorrow. This is all my fault. I’ve put these good people and innocent children in danger. Earlier, we went to help the kids pack their bags and board the buses. I’m not sure if Y/N has any kids of her own (or ever did at all), but I can tell she really cares about them. Although she was not happy with some of the excessive luggage some of them were bringing. No one would tell me where they’re sending the kids, but I overheard Ororo mention something about a private resort they had to buy out.

I still don’t quite understand why these people are willing to sacrifice so much for me. I’m basically a stranger to them. I have nothing to give them in return if they ask. Maybe they’ll finally throw me out when they realize how worthless I am. That’s what I really deserve. Not these warm clothes, the home-cooked meals, and this roof over my head. And I definitely don’t deserve the kindness and care Y/N has shown me. I really like her, but I’m afraid she’ll leave me when she realizes how boring and inexperienced I am. 

Oh, I think she’s coming out of the shower now. I’ll continue this later.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 15, 2023

Dear Diary,

It’s weird how life goes back to normal so fast here. The Red Room soldiers and Widows were here not even a week ago, tearing down doors and blasting out windows, and everything is already repaired and the students are back at it like nothing happened.

A lot of them are excited to go back to their homes and families for the holiday. But a lot of them will also be staying at the mansion, because their families won’t accept them or they just don’t have any home to go back to. The professor asked Y/N to help plan some holiday games so the kids staying don’t get too bored or lonely. She’s acting like it’s the dumbest assignment he’s ever given her, but I’ve seen her spending all her free time ordering presents and decorations (with the professor’s credit card, of course), so I know she takes it very seriously and the kids are going to love whatever she comes up with.

I’m really glad I get to spend Christmas here. It’s been a long time since I’ve actually been able to celebrate it with people I love. I feel so welcomed here and no one looks at me like I’m any different, when I come from a past where there’s red all over my ledger. Sometimes I’m surprised anyone even lets me be around these kids alone, but some of them have powers that even make Y/N nervous, and I think they know they can trust me.

It’ll take some more time before I can be fully comfortable here, but it’s really starting to grow on me and I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

December 25, 2023

Natasha wakes up alone. She looks around the bedroom, in case you might be on the floor doing push-ups or in the bathroom showering, but the room is completely empty. Her heartbeat picks up as she jumps out of bed, afraid that you’ve left her, when she notices a note on the desk.

Downstairs making breakfast. Come join when you’re up - Y/N

She relaxes immediately, touched how you made sure to let her know in advance where you would be. She quickly washes up and puts on a robe, then hurries downstairs to a chaotic mess of torn gift wrapping, screaming children, and flashing new toys. She steps into the kitchen, where you are wearing a flowered apron and are threatening Marie with a spatula.

“Stop, those aren’t ready–Marie!” You swat at her hands as she swipes for a pancake.

“Merry Christmas, Miss Nat!” Marie says, moving your attention away from her as your girlfriend appears.

“Merry Christmas, Marie.” Natasha gives the girl a hug, not missing the folded pancake in her hand. 

“Merry Christmas, darling,” you say next, waiting for her to come over. “I made a special plate for you. It’s over here so the kids don’t get into it.” You point to a foil-covered plate off to the side of the stove. Natasha goes to investigate, peeling back the foil to find the plate fully-loaded with two different types of pancakes, one next to a little container of jam and honey, and the other still steaming and garnished with flecks of green onion. There’s even a bowl of grainy buckwheat porridge. Her heart soars at the sight of her favorite native breakfast. With a delighted squeal, she throws herself into your arms.

“Thankyou thankyou thankyou,” she choruses, squeezing you tightly as you rub her back.

“You’re welcome, darling.” 

At this point, you shoo everyone out of the kitchen to finish the preparations. Natasha joins Marie in the dining hall, helping set up the plates and silverware. She watches with great curiosity as Kitty tries getting Peter to step under the mistletoe she hung above the doorway, and then is distracted when Jean and Scott come down for breakfast.

“Y/N cooks Christmas breakfast for us every year,” Jean explains to Natasha. “The kids always look forward to it.”

“Hey, Y/N!” Scott yells into the kitchen. “Keep the walnuts away from my food, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Natasha hears you dismissively respond.

“Scott’s allergic,” Jean whispers to her. “Now there’s no proof how, but he ended up with a plateful of them last year and I almost had to take him to the hospital. Needless to say, it was an eventful Christmas.”

Natasha giggles to herself, already having a feeling she knows exactly how those walnuts got on Scott’s plate.

Everyone finds a seat at the table, the empty one next to Natasha reserved for you. You finally emerge from the kitchen, no longer in the flowered apron but one of your classic checkerboard flannels. You’re carrying an impressive tower of pancakes in one hand and a pan filled half and half with bacon and sausage in the other. The students break out in appreciation and applause as Bobby scoots aside some dishes to make room for the last trays.

“Don’t take more than you can finish,” you remind the kids, going around the table to sit next to Natasha and presenting her with her special plate. “And uh, Merry Christmas, happy holidays, and all that other stuff.” You raise your apple cider in a toast and everyone follows your lead.

“Thanks for breakfast, Y/N,” Ororo says, clinking her glass to yours. The students erupt with more thanks before they start reaching for the food, passing around the mountainous plate of pancakes, scooping whole fried eggs onto each other’s plates.

“Thanks again, babe,” Natasha says, putting her hand on your thigh as she leans over to kiss you on the cheek.

“You should try it first before thanking me,” you tease, still not used to all the praise. You were just trying to be a good partner, and it was somewhat of a Christmas tradition for you to cook breakfast for all the students who stayed at the mansion over break. You didn’t mind it at all, in fact you really did enjoy spending time in the kitchen and it made you feel good to take care of others.

Natasha leaves her hand on your knee as she eats, and eventually you put your hand on top of hers comfortingly. Neither of you engage much in conversation as you eat and listen, happy with the company. Once all of the food has been finished, Ororo rounds up the students to help clean everything before they can continue opening presents. 

Kitty gets you a Johnny Cash vinyl record. Marie and Bobby got you a variety pack of exotic flavors of jerky, including alligator, ostrich, and buffalo. Storm gives you and Natasha tickets to a weekend getaway at a Canadian resort. Jean and Scott also throw in a joint gift of a new set of winter bedsheets. You are very thankful for the presents and pile them neatly by your feet, when Natasha pulls out a box and puts it on your lap. Inside is a familiar-looking flannel shirt.

“It’s a brand new one,” Natasha says. “To replace all the ones I steal from your closet,” Natasha says.

“Thanks,” you say, putting your arm around her to pull her closer so you can kiss her cheek. “This one is from me.” You hand her a very small box.

Natasha opens it delicately and gasps when she sees what you’ve given her. It’s a wooden ring, carved a little roughly around the edges  with little turquoise-colored gems pressed into the outside.

“Did you make this?” Natasha asks, running her finger over the gems.

“Uh, yeah.” You’re suddenly nervous that she doesn’t like it. Woodworking was not your finest hobby, despite your decades to fine-tune the skill, but you preferred to build vast structures and furniture. Tiny little pieces of jewelry were extremely difficult to handle, but hopefully it was worth the numerous cuts and splinters you gave yourself. 

Natasha slips it on her right ring finger–a perfect fit. Maybe you needed to give yourself more credit for your handiwork.

“It’s beautiful,” she says, holding her hand up to admire the ring. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome.” 

Natasha snuggles closer to you and rests her head on your shoulder while you sit back and watch everyone else finish opening their gifts.

***********************************************************************

The rest of the day is busy but productive. Natasha has never felt happier watching the students competitively decorate gingerbread houses, then go outside and play in the snow. You don’t join in anymore, preferring to watch from the side. You’re already wearing the flannel Natasha got for you and Natasha gazes at you adoringly from afar. Despite the differences the two of you had from time to time, she hasn’t loved another person the way she loves you. But sometimes she worries that you don’t feel the same way. 

You still don’t talk very much, hardly opening up about your past the way Natasha has spilled about hers. Although you seem mostly content at the mansion, Natasha can tell you’re still adjusting to being around so many people. The life of solitude in the cabin in the woods had clearly been more your style, and she feels guilty for dragging you away from that. But as much as she would love to spend all day with you cozied up in a cabin you built with your own hands, it wasn’t a realistic option. Not with all the threats and dangers that could come her way.

Which is why it was so important to Natasha that the Red Room be dealt with, as soon as possible.

She didn’t like how dismissive you got every time she brought it up, but she understood why. You had found your domestic bliss and didn’t want to let it go anytime soon. She wasn’t going to blame you. But she wished you would actually listen to her instead of shutting her down all the time. She would figure out how to broach the topic with you eventually, but today was not that day.

After a quiet dinner, which is basically just warmed up leftovers from breakfast, Natasha finds you sitting by yourself on the couch in front of a dying fire. Most of the students had retired to their rooms, exhausted by the day’s festivities. Natasha sits next to you, leaning her shoulder against yours.

“Hey,” she whispers.

“Hi.” You offer her your hand and she clasps onto it, threading her fingers with yours. You smile when you see the wooden ring on her finger. It looks perfect on her. “Did you have fun today?” you ask. 

“It was the best Christmas I ever had,” she replies. “Thank you for inviting me.”

“Of course.”

Natasha is tired, but there’s still one more thing she wants to do with you. She rests her hand on your thigh, subtly at first, then she slowly starts to stroke your leg, her fingers barely perceptible through your jeans. You ignore her and her movements become bolder, creeping towards the inside of your thigh now and squeezing it lightly.

“Can I help you with something?” you finally ask. Natasha has always been a little more shy when it comes to asking for intimacy with you. But you were patient with her and never pressured her, and that encouraged her to have the confidence to ask if you were in the mood–even if she didn’t always do it with words. 

“Do you want to go upstairs?” she says, leaning forward until her lips almost touch yours. “I still have one more present to give you.”

“Oh, do you now?” you ask, trying to kiss her but she pulls away.

“You have to come upstairs,” she repeats, offering you her hand as she stands up.

“All right, all right.” Your knees creak as you push off the couch, taking Natasha’s hand and following her upstairs. You can hear her heartbeat pounding with excitement or maybe that’s…yours? You hope everyone else has gone to sleep by now, otherwise they wouldn’t be falling asleep anytime soon.

Back in the privacy of the bedroom, you let Natasha lead you to the bed and you sit down on the edge with her climbing onto your lap. 

“Is this okay?” she asks, her hands locking around the back of your neck.

“Of course,” you whisper, leaning in until your foreheads touch. Your arms circle her waist to hold her securely in place. Her breath fans over your face and her heartbeat pumps at an almost alarmingly quick rate. 

“I want you,” she says, rocking her hips against your thighs. “I want you to take me.”

“How do you want me?” you ask, before she presses her lips roughly to yours, her fingers digging into your neck. Her arousal spikes and so does yours. You open your mouth when she licks your lips to deepen the kiss. She tastes like vanilla and cookies and you instinctively pull her closer to you, wanting to devour her until the morning.

Natasha grabs the collar of your flannel, pulling apart the top buttons and running her hands down your chest and abs. Your skin burns where she touches you and you nip lightly on her bottom lip when she rests her hands on the buckle of your belt.

“I want to taste you,” you pant, hoping your request doesn’t come across as too greedy. Natasha has to fight down her thrill of excitement at your suggestion, wondering how you knew exactly what she wanted. She doesn’t even take the time to agree with you, instead hurriedly stripping off her clothes to show you how eager she is. You take off the flannel, setting it aside with reverence, then removing your undershirt and jeans. Natasha tackles you back on the bed, your thigh fitting between her legs and you feel the heat from her center rubbing against you.

“You’re so wet for me,” you say, holding her hips again and guiding her up until she’s hovering over your chest. “My good girl.”

“Your good girl,” Natasha reiterates, grabbing onto the headboard for support before she positions herself over your face. The scent of her arousal is almost overwhelming to you, and you waste no time bringing your arms over her thighs to pull her down. Natasha whines when your mouth makes contact with her slick center, your tongue slipping into her and coating with her juices. 

Natasha moans, grinding down so you can enter her deeper. Your arms tighten to prevent her from moving too much; you want to do things at your own pace. Her taste is so intoxicating and addictive, you could lie here forever eating her out. Natasha grips the headboard tighter, struggling to rock against your face for more friction, but you won’t let her. She whines in desperation, the noises music to your ears. Your tongue dips into her again before tracing up to her clit, flicking against it and Natasha grinds down harder on your chin, gasping and moaning. 

“Y/N,” she begs. “Y/N, please.”

You stop, pulling away from her far enough to say, “What do you want, baby?”

“I want you,” she repeats, her voice breaking. “I need you.”

“I know, baby. I got you.” As much as you love teasing her, this is not the time. You knew Natasha could sometimes be insecure about your relationship with her. But you had no regrets in choosing to be with her and loved her so much. You would never miss an opportunity to show her, either.

You loosen your arms around her so she has some freedom to move and Natasha quickly adjusts herself until she’s comfortable. When she settles back down on your face again, you find her clit and wrap your lips around it, rewarded with a long, drawn-out moan. Natasha rolls her hips to help you find a good rhythm. You feel her thighs tremble and more of her slick spills onto your tongue. 

“Oh, god. Oh fuck, Y/N,” she whimpers, the headboard flexing dangerously from how hard she’s holding onto it. 

Your stomach practically burns from how aroused you are with Natasha riding your face, and you’re hoping she’ll help you relieve some of the tension once you make her finish. You’ve held out as long as you could, and you can tell Natasha is ready to fall over the edge. Your tongue rests on her clit again, swiping upwards in a straight line, then dragging down at a diagonal angle, then going back up.

N.

Your tongue moves in an inverted V next, drawing an imaginary bar between them.

A.

You lick down her clit once more, then swipe perpendicular.

T.

Natasha is panting and shaking, completely unaware that you’re trying to spell her name on her with your tongue. One of her hands has left the headboard and is holding tightly onto your hair in an attempt to guide you, but your own plan is already in action.

She doesn’t make it the next A, her back arching and thighs clamping around your head as she finally cums. You don’t let a drop of it go to waste, lapping at her sensitive folds until she’s whimpering and trying to pull your head away. Natasha lifts herself off your face with a contented sigh, turning herself away from the headboard now, but you’re not quite done with her yet.

You pull her back down on your face and she falls forward with her hands on your chest. 

“Did I say you could go anywhere?” you grumble playfully. 

“Y/N,” Natasha giggles. 

“Can I have one more, darling?” you ask, and she responds by sitting back on your face. But now Natasha is the one with other ideas, as she eyes the veins on your flexing abdomen that disappear behind the band of your underwear. You feel her hands run across your stomach and your breath hitches when she tugs down your underwear.

“Nat, what are you–oh, shit.” Now it’s your turn to gasp and moan when Natasha leans over and places her mouth on your dripping center. You completely lose focus of what you were doing, instinctively spreading your legs open further to give her better access. “Fuck baby, oh fuck,” you whine, your head dropping back on the pillow.

“Did I say you could stop?” Natasha teases, turning your own words back against you. It takes a monumental effort, but you calm yourself enough to put your mouth to work again. Natasha almost soaks herself when she realizes how turned on you’ve gotten just from eating her out. Now she has only one mission in mind: make you cum before she does a second time. But you’re refusing to make it easy for her, and Natasha is already dangerously close despite having finished mere minutes ago. She knows she has to hurry, but judging from the tremble in your thighs, you’re closer than you’re letting on.

Natasha’s tongue circles your clit and she can feel you panting against her, your own efforts faltering in their rhythm. She pushes back against your face to remind you of what you promised her. Your fingers dig into the curve of her ass and you feel her breasts rubbing against your abs. Her mouth is so hot and wet and perfect on you, making you lose your breath every time her tongue touches you.

“Fuck, Nat,” you whimper, feeling like you’re losing control of yourself. You’re not even sure if what you’re doing to her anymore is working because all you can think about is the throbbing in your lower stomach that begs to be released. Your back arches off the bed when her tongue lashes at your clit and she struggles and fails to push down on your thighs to keep you grounded. “Nat, I can’t,” you warn, a little embarrassed at how fast you’re ready to release. 

“It’s okay,” you hear Natasha say, “Cum for me, baby.” 

White floods your vision and all the muscles in your body tighten as you spill into her mouth, a moan catching in your throat. Your head spins in a rush of endorphins and you’re practically convulsing underneath Natasha when you finally come down from your high. She purrs in delight at her success, gently squeezing at your thighs. And as much as you want to flip her around and press her head against your chest, you still do owe her.

Natasha’s second orgasm is a little more subdued but just as pleasurable. She bites the inside of your thigh to quiet the noise of her moan and you almost cum again. But once she finds the strength to move, Natasha crawls back up to you, nuzzling the side of your head and kissing you. Normally, you could go several rounds without even stopping for a break, but you’re unusually exhausted today. Maybe it was from waking up at four o’clock to work on breakfast for everyone or making sure that the Christmas activities throughout the day ran smoothly. 

Natasha rests her head on your chest, listening to your steady heartbeat and you rub her shoulder, tilting your head down to breathe in the faded scent of her shampoo. 

“Merry Christmas, Y/N,” she whispers.

“Merry Christmas, darling.”

***********************************************************************

January 2, 2024

Dear Diary,

Professor Xavier called me personally to his office today. I was really nervous that I was in trouble for something. I’m still not sure how I feel about his mind-reading thing. I try to keep my thoughts in check when he’s around, but I think that makes it seem like I’m hiding something. But other than that, he’s only ever been polite and respectful to me, and I can tell Y/N really looks up to him as a mentor and father figure.

He told me he has a lead on where the Red Room could be and asked if I still want to pursue them. Of course I do, but I know Y/N isn’t happy about it. I thought she would understand more. I know she’s got her own past that she hasn’t told me the entirety of yet (not that she’s required to), but she’s told a few stories so I know her situation is similar enough to mine. I wish she was more supportive instead of trying to talk me out of it, but I know she’s worried too. She doesn’t want me rushing back into danger and I totally get that. But I just…I can’t stay here and be cared for and protected and loved when there are so many of my sisters still being held against their will and forced into doing horrible things.

Luckily, the professor seems more understanding of things. But I don’t want him or anyone else here risking their lives for me. If I have to go alone, I will. I don’t know if I can do it alone, though. I’m sure Y/N will insist on tagging along no matter what. I just hope she doesn’t get too grumpy about the whole thing.

Love,

Nat

***********************************************************************

January 4, 2024

Dear Diary,

I still haven’t told Y/N what the professor told me 2 days ago (assuming she hasn’t already gone through my diary and read about it here). I tried to mention it after dinner, but I could tell as soon as I let the “R” word slip she was not paying attention to the conversation anymore. I don’t want my frustration to build up, so I’ll probably have to be straightforward about it, which isn’t easy.

I know the professor can hear all of my thoughts, so I wonder if he’s going to get tired of them and just talk to Y/N himself. But probably not. This is my problem to handle. I’ll find the courage somehow to deal with it. 

I just hope it doesn’t cause Y/N to look down on me for this. I’m already nervous that I’m constantly annoying her, and if she gets fed up enough and kicks me out I will literally have nowhere to go and at that point, I’d welcome back the Red Room with open arms. That probably seems a little dramatic, but I really don’t want to risk losing the best person that ever came into my life. I have Y/N to thank for everything I have here, and I think most people in my position would call me crazy for trying to make any changes to my situation. 

But I’m not like most people. And I have to do what I think is right, even if others try to stop me. 

I’ll bring it up to Y/N later again. Maybe if I catch her in a good mood she’ll be more receptive to the idea. Wishing luck to my future self.

Love,

Nat

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AN: Please leave likes, comments, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰

Multipart sequel in the works!

#natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x female reader

[munson-blurbs]

Everybody Talks (Best Friend!Eddie x Fem!Reader)

Summary: You've worked hard to keep your crush on your best friend a secret, since he doesn't feel the same way. But when the Hellfire Club members open their big mouths, it threatens everything you've tried to hold together.

Warnings: some angst, fluff, mentions of financial insecurity

WC: 1.5k

--

“Pizza’s here!” you call out, carrying a stack of pies into the Wheeler house. “I got one pepperoni, one mushroom, and one plain for all the boring people,” you tease, looking directly at Eddie as you say it.

“I prefer classic,” he retorts, taking the boxes from your hands and setting them on the table. The rest of the guys start to crowd around him, paper plates in hand, practically drooling at just the sight of food. “Hey, hey,” he chastises, pushing them out of the way, “ladies first.” He offers you a plate and you take a slice, quickly moving aside before you’re trampled by the herd of hungry teenage boys.

“So,” Gareth says to Eddie between bites, “your last Hellfire campaign is over and done with. How’s it feel?”

“You wish,” Eddie scoffs, plopping down next to you on the sofa. “Just because I’m graduating doesn’t mean I’m done kicking your asses in D&D.” He chugs his plastic cup filled with Mountain Dew and wipes his lips with the back of his hand. “Anyone else want a refill?” he asks, shaking his empty cup before looking over at you. “Oh, shit; you don’t have anything to drink. Diet Coke, right?” Before you can protest that you can get it yourself, he’s up and pouring you a glass.

“Thanks,” you smile, taking a sip. The bubbles fizz on your tongue as you lean back, careful not to get too close to Eddie. Not that you don’t want to; the mere thought of him draping his tattooed arm around your shoulders makes you giddy. 

Just a few more months, you think to yourself, and I’ll be off at college, meeting new people, and I won’t have to worry about my embarrassing crush on my best friend.

“You guys ready for prom tomorrow?” Mike asks, interrupting your pity party.

Jeff nods. “Just gotta pick up a corsage for Barb, and she’s getting me a, um, a…”

“Boutonniere?” you fill in helpfully, and he snaps his fingers and replies, “yeah, that thing.”

“What about you?” Lucas pipes up, turning to Eddie. “You ever decide who to ask?”

“Oh, he decided,” Jeff laughs, earning a scowl from his friend. “Too bad she decided to go with Jason Carver.”

Dustin throws his hands up in exasperation. “Dude, you’re still hung up on Chrissy Cunningham?” He rolls his eyes. “I told you; she’s sweet, but she’s not your type. You need someone who’s as nerdy as you are.” His eyes scan the room. “You know, like Y/N.”

You feel your cheeks burn with humiliation, not at Dustin calling you a nerd; you know he means that with utmost affection. It’s not even the idea of Eddie asking you out that has you nervous; it’s the prospect of him laughing at the thought. You’ve done a great job hiding your puppy love a secret from him, and you’d like to keep it that way.

“Ha!” Gareth barks out. “She wishes!”

No. No no no.

Tears spring to your eyes, and you can’t think of a decent excuse to leave before you’re dashing through the door, letting the screen slam behind you. There’s no lie in what Gareth said; you do wish Eddie had asked you to prom. Every time that the subject of the dance came up, you’d waited with baited breath to see if he’d say something to you. But he’d always ignore it, eager to move on to the next topic. And now you knew why: he wanted to take Chrissy, but she was in love with someone else. How ironic.

You’re almost at your car when you hear the squeak of the front door opening. “Sweetheart, wait!” Eddie shouts, probably a bit too loud for the short distance between you two. “I’m so sorry.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” you tell him softly as he jogs over to where you’re leaning against the passenger side door. “‘S not your fault.”

“Kinda is,” he shrugs, bringing you to the front steps and motioning for you to sit next to him. “I mean, I was the one who went to a freshman for romantic advice. That’s the last time I do that; I don’t care how nauseatingly cute he and his singing girlfriend are.” He gives a small chuckle, but neither of you meet the other’s gaze.

Hold on. Freshman? Singing girlfriend? “Eddie, what are you talking about?”

Eddie stops gnawing on his lower lip long enough to answer you. “I’m talking about you being embarrassed by Henderson’s painfully obvious last-ditch effort to get me to man up and finally ask you out.” His brows furrow when he sees your similarly confused expression. “That’s not…what are you upset about?”

“Um, Gareth blabbing to everyone that I wanted you to ask me to prom?” You finally allow yourself to look at him, noticing the dejected look on his face. 

“I couldn’t do that,” he mutters, resting his palm sideways over his mouth and shifting his body away from yours. His words come out all muffled, but you can still make out what they are.

“I wouldn’t have said no to you,” you reassure him, mustering up all of your courage to place your hand on his bouncing knee. He relaxes almost immediately, but he still seems sad. “Eds, what’s wrong?”

His eyes are misty when he turns back to you. “I couldn’t ask you to prom because…because I couldn’t afford it,” he confesses, twisting his skull ring around his finger anxiously. “The tickets, a tux, those fancy wrist things…best I could do is steal some flowers from Mrs. Wheeler’s garden.” He hums out a sad laugh. “‘M sorry, sweetheart. I wanted to take you, but I knew I’d just be letting you down.”

“But Jeff said you were going to ask Chrissy,” you point out.

Eddie shrugs. “Don’t get me wrong; Chrissy’s nice and everything, but I just said that so he’d get off my back. Because if I told him the truth, he wouldn’t shut up until I made a move.” He sighs. “His dad’s a lawyer, and his mom runs her own business. He doesn’t understand what it’s like to worry about having enough food in the house, let alone all the extra shit like prom.”

You’re quiet for a beat, letting everything sink in. You knew Eddie lived in Forest Hills Trailer Park, and you knew money was often tight. Wayne worked hard to keep a roof over their heads, but the plant didn’t pay nearly enough. There were many occasions where you’d spotted Eddie eyeing something in the grocery store and instinctively thrown it in your cart for him, but for some reason, it hadn’t even occurred to you that finances was the reason he’d avoided talking about the prom.

“I wish you’d told me,” you finally say. “I would’ve understood.”

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie rubs his nose against his hand, another nervous tic of his. “That was never the problem. You’re the most understanding fuckin’ person I know. You just…I dunno. You deserve the whole ‘prom’ experience, not whatever half-ass version I could offer you.”

At that, you can’t help but giggle. “Eddie,” you begin, “do you really think I wanted to go to prom so I could wear a fancy dress and uncomfortable shoes in a stuffy gym? I just wanted to dance with you, and then spend the night on your couch watching stupid movies and eating junk food and talking shit about everyone who was there.” You look deep into his chocolate brown eyes, nearly losing yourself in their beauty. “I just wanted to be with you.”

Eddie stares at you, gaze traveling down to your lips. “Can I kiss you?” he asks, voice barely above a whisper.

“If you don’t, I’ll kiss you.” 

Your mouths crash together clumsily, but you’re too happy to care. You soak in every part of it: Eddie’s stubble rubbing against your chin, the way he tastes like stale cigarettes and marinara sauce, his curls brushing your cheeks. He only breaks the kiss to take a breath, and then he’s back, more purposeful in his movements the second time around. He brings his hand to your jawline, caressing it gingerly with his thumb as he parts your lips with his.

“Can’t believe I just did that,” he muses, smiling at you shyly. “Been wanting to kiss you for too goddamn long.” He leans in, frowning when you place your hand on his chest to stop him. “What?”

“You gotta take me on a date before you kiss me again,” you inform him, lacing your fingers through his. “When are you free?”

“Uh, right now? We can grab ice cream at Scoops. Lemme just get my keys.” He stands up quickly to head back towards the house.

“Wait, Eddie,” you call out to him, “what about the guys? And pizza night?”

“Who cares? I have a date with the most beautiful girl in Hawkins.”

--

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie x reader #eddie stranger things #eddie x you #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things

[lurkinggirlie]

Elain & Azriel are EndGame

Azriel’s bonus chapter: semi-essay on my thoughts

This post will be a long one. The shipwar has been going on for far too long, and there's a possiblity that we'll be getting closure soon. So, I want to put my thoughts out there. For Obvious reasons, I could be very wrong, but this is what I think based on canon text: (Ignore any errors..I haven't edited this, and I'm sure there are many posts like this that are way more articulate)

Elriel are endgame. If they’re not then Azriel is kinda pathetic and having him end-up with anyone else is bad writing and character assassination. (Which we sadly won’t put past sjm but I don’t think she would..at least I hope)

1- Elain has no other love interest. Yes, Lucien is her mate but we have hinted at a broken/rejected mating bond for the longest time when it comes to these two so having them accept it eventually is going to be quite underwhelming, repetitive and boring. Even Lucien seems to have given up/isn’t interested in bridging that gap between them, which we’re told in both acofas and acosf. Unless you want to count the longing pointed out by Cassian, although Cassian also pointed out that Lucien was also uncomfortable when he mentioned his mate. To add on, there is no sexual tension between the two, and we know how important that is for sjm’s couple. You can't keep whining "but Elain isn't giving him a chance, if only she gave him a chance, then maybe this and maybe that" Elain is not a seprate entity, she is what SJM writes, Sjm could have written that but she did not yet and I'm not sure if she will. It feels too late at this point, she had already shown us that Elain has feelings for someone else aka Azriel. The author doesn't have to spell everything out for us to understand to what's going on. Sarah usually makes it clear who's endgame. and she literally is. So, it would be very sudden and out of the blue if Lucien and Elain were to end up together when she had never shown it before. When even Azriel pointed this out “I think Lucien will never be good enough for her, and she has no interest in him, anyway” people can say Rhys killed elriel, that the bonus chapter ended them. But this line right here tells us otherwise! First we know Azriel and Elain can read each other so well that they don’t need words, and then Azriel tells us this. He’s literally telling us that Elain does not want Lucien.

We also cannot compare elucien to Feysand or Nessian in the “enemies to lovers" department, because these two seem to hardly care about each other. For obvious reasons she wouldn’t accept or reject Lucien in a book that isn’t hers. But if they do end up together I’d feel robbed that she had more sexual tension with Azriel than she did with Lucien. And we know that Nessian and Feysand had sexual tension before getting together. Most of what we got from Elain and Lucien was awkwardness, and discomfort. Not a single spark. Furthermore, it would feel like Azriel was just leading Elain own. Plus their romance (Lucien and Elain)  would not feel organic, only getting with Lucien because she felt rejected by Azriel, which doesn’t give epic romance no matter how sjm tries to spin it. It would always make Lucien seem like the second choice.

2- Azriel regifting the necklace was a dickhead move, and offensive to both girls. Anyone thinking the regifting of the necklace ended elriel or started gwynriel is delusional and clearly doesn’t know how the romance genre works. (should’ve thrown the gift in the Sidra like Cassain did) I can’t believe Rhys isn’t paying Azriel enough that he felt the need to return the necklace to the shop instead of throwing it. Senstive Illyrian baby indeed. 

3- Rhys saying stay away from Elain (can we take a moment to appreciate how sexy Rhys was for pulling rank, he really made the ship more interesting now) and Azriel actually listening to him?? When he told him you can’t order me to do that. shit would be underwhelming if Azriel actually stayed away? Hello? Secret relationship potential ? Hello? Forbidden romance potential  ??? The tropes would be epic. Sjm had never done that. And I’m not saying she will, but this is how I see it playing out. + Azriel saying it was a mistake to Elain, and Elain apologizing?? The fact she was confused/hurt and probably thought she misunderstood the whole situation? SHE IS BABYGIRL?? Regardless, Azriel saying it was a mistake and it being a mistake is NOT it. This is not how romance works most of the time. This is such a basic romantic trope, why are a lot of people misinterepting it? Elain deserves better, and sjm isn’t about to hurt Elain’s feelings without making it up to her. And she’s definitely not making Azriel end up with another girl before he fixes that shit. I will be needing a proper apology to Elain.  

4- Whenever people think of the bonus chapter they weigh in Azriel’s feelings far more than Elain’s. It’s clear that Elain and Azriel’s feelings are MUTUAL, ignore the bonus chapter and it’s right there in the actual book. I don’t think Elain got the memo that Azriel had  a conversation with another girl after he hurt her feelings which made him realize he’s in love all of a sudden. *sarcasm*  that would be very out of character for Azriel. 

5- His chest sparkling at the thought of Gwyn getting the necklace was so??? I have been saying he’s for the streets and yes this was out of pocket. So, I understand people shipping them. However it could mean anything really, you can't continue saying that Gwyn in the bonus has to mean something, and that that spark must mean somethig but continue to disreagrd every single Elriel interaction like they mean nothing. Because for it to be taken as romance we’d have to ignore the beginning of the bonus, the feysand’s bonus acosf/acomaf/acowar and acofas. + we could easily take this in a platonic way, which is how I viewed it when I read the bonus. Not everything has to be romantic. And sjm will NOT introduce a new guy to make him end up with Elain since we already established Elain doesn’t want Lucien and Lucien doesn’t want her either. 

6- I know that a lot of people have theories about Gwyn being a lightsinger and all of this happening because of her powers (While I do think this is very smart, it wasn’t something I thought of so I won’t talk about it). I do think it’s possible, and all the theories I saw were really cool but idk where sjm is going with this, so to make it simple I do think it could be because she’s his student, she went through a lot it could simply be platonic happiness that a girl who went through so much is going to be happy about something. Even if it was a secondhand necklace specifically picked with ANOTHER girl in mind PLUS I do think sjm wanted drama, and for people to doubt elriel cuz now they have all these obstacles, so Gwyn would be the easy choice, but the second choice regardless. The relationship would feel icky and I genuinely cannot see the potential gwynriels keep talking about. I would take the ship a lot more seriously if a) he didn’t regift her another girl’s necklace b) there was more to them in the actual book. c) he wasn’t still upset about it 3 days later… 

7- There’s a high possibility Gwyn never even got the necklace..

He gave it to Clotho not Gwyn, he didn’t want his name mentioned, and then said if any other girl would like it to give it to them: the aim was to get rid of Elain’s necklace. It’s sort of a parallel with Cassain throwing away Nesta’s present.

I think it’s possible that Azriel went there because he knows how much the girls in the library have suffered, especially since his mom did too, it's possible he thought "okay this is a pretty necklace, I don't want to hold onto the reminder of what could've been, so instead of throwing it let another girl be happy about it. At least it won’t go to waste”

Clotho could tell there was something wrong, like maybe she sensed the energy and decided ayeee let me keep this aside for him, he might come back and ask for it. 

The bonus did not happen at the end of the book 

If Azriel was truly in love with Gwyn now /or he wanted her/ or more between them was going to happen/ or they were mates according to some theories we could have AT LEAST gotten more after the bonus. 

We know the bonus happened after solstice.

Nesta mentions that Azriel was stone-faced and more aloof than usual, he wouldn’t even give her a smile. That was 3 days after the necklace situation. I think it would’ve been a great opportunity to highlight any attraction between Azriel and Gwyn.

Maybe he sees the necklace around her neck, maybe Nesta and Emerie compliment Gwyn’s necklace, or Gwyn telling them she doesn’t know who it’s from, maybe they tease her that someone might have a crush on her. Nesta could’ve pointed out that Azriel was looking at Gwyn’s necklace.or looking at Gwyn in some sort of way. Literally anything. 

Anyone pointing out the way Azriel and Gwyn looked at each other. A charged glance perhaps. Literally ANYTHING. We only got him looking at her with admiration which is very teacher coded. 

If sjm hadn’t made Nesta realize Azriel had a thing for Elain then maybe gwnyriel would’ve been more appealing to me. But no, Nesta noticed. This doesn’t mean nothing people.

aside from that we got nothing romantic, but a part of the fandom still acts like we need to exile Elain because she’s coming between Gwyn and Azriel’s epic love story.

Not everyone has access to the bonus.  

The Azriel chapter was only in ONE store in the US, but Feysand’s bonus chapter was in 3 stores in the US and UK. I don't know but something tells me it’s more important.  Soooo if SJM would do a love interest switch she would not do it in a bonus chapter, and wouldn’t be highlighting the Az/Elain interactions in ACOSF as much as she did. 

Feyre’s chapter focuses on Elain, it literally tells us Elain is next once we’re done helping Nesta. EASY MATH. and the Azriel bonus also focuses on elriel/Azriel’s feelings. ENDGAME MATERIAL RIGHT HERE. 

But the girls swear up and down that Gwyn and Azriel’s book is next because of a secondhand necklace. 

Let’s assume elriels are the delusional ones (like so many of them say), how do we explain these. 

Casual readers who usually read books and aren’t on the internet and aren’t looking for bonus content (wish that was me)  (lord knows I skipped every bonus chapter in throne of glass and crescent city and I wasn’t confused about anything. Not even once) so they’d expect answers for 

The Charged glance between Azriel and Elain

Azriel following the sound of Elain’s laughter. 

Elain looking away when Azriel smiled at her during family dinner, Cassian god bless him that idiot could NOT piece all of that together. BUT it was still highlighted through his POV ???

His secret to tell never hers (and we do learn of that secret in the bonus but people who didn’t read it could only guess so they’d want a confirmation) and sjm did say in one of her lives that Nesta learns of one of Azriel’s secrets (she looked all giddy about it)... and that Azriel is going through some shit right now…and we learn why from the bonus chapter. 

Cassian being confused that it seems like Azriel moved on from Mor

Nesta pointing out that Elain moved on from Graysen

Cassian wondering why Elain is lying about where she’s going. (I viewed this as her avoiding Azriel but idk) 

Azriel’s protectiveness of Elain. He gives mate behavior without the mate part. (I will hit him on the head though omg let my girl do something)

Elain willing to look for the troves even when Nesta wasn’t, the girl wants to do something  (her journey is coming next) 

Nesta wondering if Elain is training with Azriel or the twins (who are spies that were trained by Azriel !!!) 

Feyre telling Azriel that Elain got him beat for secret keeping. Sure it might sound delusional but Elain keeps being compared to Az/being a spy and maybe this could be a thing. 

Elain speaking back to her sisters about them treating her like a child?? Hello finally 

The way Elain’s mother only treated her like a pretty doll which shaped up Elain’s whole life??? I want this from Elain’s POV sooo bad 

In conclusion, we’re not pausing Elain’s story so Azriel can end up with a side character in a spinoff about an og side character, we’re sticking to our og side characters for now.

Azriel being over Mor because of Elain, and Elain moving on from Graysen because of Azriel only for Elain to get over Azriel to be with Lucien (who we got nothing from aside a mating bond..) and for Az to get over Elain and questioning fate for her…only to end up with gwyn…like I don’t think anyone could take Azriel’s feelings seriously if this happens. Shit will be too goofy.  Because if he ends up with Gwyn who says he won’t move on to the next pretty girl he sees afterwards.

To add to that, what plot would we have for Azriel and Gwyn. We'll get more Valkyries training, more healing journey so the plot would have to be paused for this. Nesta’s book was mostly about her healing journey and friendship, while it was nice I don’t want a repeat for the next book. Especially since we know the Rite took a toll on Gwyn, she went back to the library, wasn’t even sure she would make it to Nessian’s mating ceremony. This doesn’t give the protagonist of the next book to me. Or "I thought it was pretty obvious"

Elain’s healing journey had started in ACOWAR, she got her friends in ACOWAR. Now is their TIME to do something!! She is next. 

Closing thoughts on what I think would happen based off each ship happening: 

If elriel happens = new sjm couple dynamic/interesting plot. Fresh sjm protagonist that is unlike sjm's others + we don’t ignore all the foreshadowing and hints. We follow the love triangle we set up in the og trilogy + finally get a rejected mating bond. And instead of warrior training we might get spy training and instead of physical power (as far as we know) we get something more mental. Again this is very new for sjm + there’s a lot to Elain’s power that we don’t know and since Azriel was the one who found out what she was, I think it would make more sense for him to know how to help her. Imagine the sexual tension during training..yes please. I hope sjm doesn’t rob me. Elain is really mysterious, we got Nesta’s inner thoughts before her book but we still haven't gotten a peep about Elain’s inner thoughts and I’m just dying to know more. AND THE STAKES!

1) Rhys forbidding Azriel from Elain, 2) Elain’s mating bond,3) Azriel’s self doubt and how he doesn’t think he’s good enough. 4) The blood duel and the political mess we could get into. (Lucien probs won't but what if Beron would, the breeding potential, A seer must be a powerful thing she can see things others can't and I think that’s valuable. If Eris thought Nesta was valuable as cauldron made and there was no potential there, so The Autumn court probably feels even more entitled to Elain) We have high inner and outer stakes. I have a feeling SJM will fumble all this potential but a girl can dream 

If elucien happens = another successful mating bond + “enemies”  to lovers sort of but they won’t ever be mean to each other so maybe not enemies, just dislike and awkwardness to friends to lovers?  We ignore the hints about a rejected bond and in mating bonds we trust. We also ignore all the elriel hints, and their mutual feelings. We follow the love triangle set up in the og trilogy. I don’t think Lucien could train her in anything? Maybe self defense, Idk Sarah could pull something, but I don’t see Elain leaving her circle of friends but neither do I see Lucien settling in the night court and leaving his own friends. There are no stakes but Elain’s and Lucien’s awkwardness around each other + Elain’s feelings for Azriel. Elain’s and Lucien’s plot connects though so at least there’s that, SJM could ship them off on a mission together and make them get closer. Forced proximity sort of thing. 

If gwynriel happens then = we lost the whole plot, ignored the foreshadowing and hints found in the actual book. Mentor to lovers, civil with each other. Azriel has to move on from Elain first though and that could be icky. Healing journey, more Valkyries training. So we pick up from where we left off in acosf, and we’d see Azriel trying to get her to come out of the Library, or he goes to visit her there until she agrees to come out again. Maybe if Gwyn is a lightsinger then idk more training with Azriel? Again, no stakes but Gwyn’s trauma and Azriel’s self doubt oh and also his feelings for Elain. But that’s it, Gwyn as of now does not connect to the overall plot with the troves (she’s not made therefore she can’t use them) or koschei. So I don’t see us making her go on a mission like that. I’ve seen a lot of gwynriles saying Gwyn has spy potential idk where, but she could barely keep a secret for Nesta so I highly doubt she’d be keeping secrets for the IC. 

Ps: the original koschei plot is 3 sisters marrying 3 very powerful wizards and like idk 3 sisters 3 brothers…we can have a retelling ya know 

#elriel #pro elain #azriel shadowsinger #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #Azriel's bonus #anti g*ynriel #anti el*cien #elain archeron #acofas #acosf

[wrtingsoftheunknown]

Vincent Sinclair HC

Vincent Sinclair hc SFW and NSFW

I’ve haven’t  been seeing my boy get repped recently so I have to do it myself. My first time writing something on here or towards this character ,I promise I will get better y'al,l I made this super quickly not proofread oops.

SFW

-While he can be insecure about his face he definitely has an ego from being the favorite child and having perfected his craft.

Lester drags him out to go for a ride around town or force him to come to his place for some quality brother time (Bo joins every now and then but wants peace and quiet dammit )

‘I know a lot of people have him learn sign language but I think he either writes what he wants to say, speaks as best as he can, or gestures, ( he was born in the south to parents that I don't think cared about communicating with him too much but he could have picked it up later in life maybe in his teen years or middle school era)

More sadistic than Bo when it comes to killing, he doesn't care if they are dead or alive when working on them and takes satisfaction in the result of his work

He prefers to work in silence but you can catch him humming now and then some country song or a guilty pleasure pop song from the 80’s( I see you Vince)

I think he partakes in multiple forms of art besides wax work.We see he’s able to paint, draw, but he also  takes pictures, , sews, writes, makes videos, anything artistic he’s learning and keeping up with new techniques.

Since he takes video of the killings at times I think they sell them as snuff films to make extra cash on top of stealing and selling victims stuff. (At least that’s what I thought when I first watched the film anyone else or just me)

Rarely happens but will keep victims that interest him like Bo ,but dispose of them when they get boring  or no longer match up the ideal version of them in his head.

-Does want a lifelong partner, the white wedding and picket fence, kids,  but knows it might be difficult with the line of work he does.

- He can talk but only does when it’s important or to emphasize something. He does have a southern draw like Bo and I imagine his voice to sound similar but raspier, maybe deeper/ quieter from not using it as much.

-like I said earlier you have to really catch his attention and be able to hold it for more than a week, if that happens then he’s obsessed and protective maybe a little too over protective.

Does indeed have a hair care routine I believe this full throttle and no one can can tell me otherwise I'm not listening.

NSFW

I don't know if he’s a virgin, I don't think he is something is telling me he isn't, but i’m not sure

He has no problem with nudity, bodies are seen as art, there's not as much of a sexual connotation with them as with Bo and Lester .

He wants to be in love with the person he is intimate with, he wants to be worship and worship his muse.

Drawings  of his partner naked as well as in the midst of a passionate night, he might tease them all night to make sure the sketch is as life like and accurate as possible

Good size and thick that's all I gotta say

Praise kink hard core, hearing his partner call him a good boy or how he makes them feel so good he will crumble

He starts slow and sensual, enjoys the control he has and having someone at his power.

I think he will edge you and leave you high and dry when you act out but he always caves by the end of the day and gives you what you need.

Can last a long time surprisingly

Mainly a giver but someone please for the love of god give this man the nastiest had he’s ever received will make the prettiest noises 

Is down to try anything new and more open about sex than you would think.

When he’s horny he comes up behind his partner and starts caressing every inch he can reach, while resting his chin on their shoulder acting as innocent as he can.

#vincent sinclair #house of wax #vincent sinclair x reader #headcanon #horror #masked men #country man #bo sinclair #lester sinclair #x reader

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FROM A COURT OF THORNS AND ROSES *  assorted dialogue from the novel, adjust as necessary

don't feel bad for one moment about doing what brings you joy.

be glad of your human heart.

has anyone ever taken care of you?

i heard you scream.

i figured that would get you to stop crying.

stop? don't pretend you care, human.

what is that bruise?

before you start yelling...

do you lie awake at night to come up with all your witty replies for the following day?

i'm tired and lonely, and you're the only person i can talk to without putting myself at risk.

you can leave if you're just going to insult me.

i would have been gentle with you, though.

pity those who don't feel anything at all.

when i kill, i do it slow.

killing is easier in pants.

i didn't want to consider what the punishment might have been.

we're too powerful, too bored with immortality, to be checked by anything else.

i wanted you everywhere. i was drowning in that need.

i don't particularly enjoy losing, so i took it upon myself to become good at them.

what's it doing?

why are you telling me this?

i don't think it's absurd at all.

remember the last time you ignored my warning?

fear no evil.

would you like me to grovel with gratitude for bringing me here?

i might die of surprise. you made a joke, [name].

your hair is... clean.

when the legends get written, i don't want to be remembered for standing on the sidelines.

look how you're trying not to cry out in terror.

i didn't want you to fight alone. or die alone.

you don't hold on to power by being everyone's friend.

each of us has a beast roaming beneath our skin, roaring to get out.

against slavery, against tyranny, i would gladly go to my death, no matter whose freedom i was defending.

i love you. thorns and all.

for someone with a heart of stone, yours is certainly soft these days.

we need hope, or else we cannot endure.

i threw myself into that fire, threw myself into it, into him, and let myself burn.

you look... better than before.

it's a rare day indeed when someone thanks you for bringing them to their death.

if i offer you the moon on a string, will you give me a kiss too?

you humans are truly grateful creatures, aren't you.

well... goodbye for now.

you didn't ask.

the answer to the riddle is love.

you don't look half as bad now.

everything i love has always had a tendency to be taken from me.

i wouldn't want to die alone.

you didn't need to bargain with me.

how am i to blame?

the tunic isn't as pretty as a dress.

what have you done to me?

do you ever stop being so serious and dull?

make it go away.

i'd prefer not to wear that dress.

do you ever stop being such a prick?

i would have taken a very, very long time.

i'd want someone to hold my hand until the end, and awhile after that.

you didn't tell me this would happen.

your human joy fascinates me - the way you experience things in your life span, so wildly and deeply and all at once is... entrancing.

i'm drawn to it, even though i shouldn't be, even when i try not to be.

there was nothing that could slow me down.

i don't know why i feel so tremendously ashamed of myself for leaving them.

all those years... what i did for them... and they didn't try to stop you from taking me.

you might have gotten away with it.

i came to claim the one i love.

i hadn't thought of it as a weakness until now.

#a court of thorns and roses #rp meme #rp memes #rp prompt #roleplay memes #roleplay prompt #rp starters #ask memes #ask meme #roleplay meme #roleplay inbox prompts #rp inbox meme #inbox prompt #inbox meme #sentence starter prompt #sentence starter #sentence starters #mcflymemes #for kim because she requested it!!! xoxo love u best friend

[after-witch]

The Touch of the Velvet Hand [Platonic Yandere L x Sibling Reader]

Title: The Touch of the Velvet Hand [Platonic Yandere L x Sibling Reader]

Synopsis: You sneak out at night with Matt. How long can that last, really?

Word count: 2700ish

notes: yandere, platonic yandere, abusive sibling dynamic, reader is L's younger adult sibling, brief tickling, captivity (reader can't leave Whammy's)

Happiness is a fragile thing. It can slip through your fingers if you aren’t careful. Or it can be wrenched away violently by someone else out of pettiness or jealousy or sheer resentment. Or it might just crumble on its own, incapable of bearing the load you put upon it. 

The point being--happiness just doesn’t last. 

You know this for a fact, and you’ve known it since you can remember. Since you and your brother L would spend nights in makeshift shelters, huddled together for warmth, sharing what scraps of food you were able to find.

Since you were whisked into the world of Whammy’s, where you’re still stuck, even as an adult, kept safe and very, very fucking bored behind its walls. 

So yes, happiness, fleeting thing, had to be carved out wherever you could get it. 

You’re not sure what will take away your current bout of happiness. You’re only sure that it’s temporary, which is why you’re indulging in it full-throttle, not holding back for a moment, because God only knows when you might feel like this again.

The first night that Matt showed up in your doorway, you eyed him warily. 

 It was not the first time that one of your brother’s would-be successors came knocking at your door. 

Although that was only a figure of speech, as it was more common to find them snooping or spying or for one of them to simply waltz into your bedroom like you weren’t your own person at all. That type of presumption was fine for your real brother, but for the rest? It made you curl up your lip and ignore them.

Matt is (maybe) different. Matt has never (that you’ve seen, at least) taken notes on you. He’s never leaned snarkily against your door frame and asked you questions punctuated by pops of bubblegum or left a doll that vaguely resembles you in your doorway as either a threat or an offering and you’re not sure which would be creepier.

And so, when he showed up in your doorway, you were wary, sure. But not ready to shut him out entirely. Unless he started prying into your life or revealed some sort of ulterior motive or asked you about (God forbid) your brother.

But all he did was gruffly say, “Heads up!” before tossing something at you. You caught it, barely, hands stinging from the slap of it. 

It was a helmet.

“Huh?” You had asked, immediately feeling stupid, not for the first time within the confines of Whammy’s.

Matt had just smiled and shrugged.

“Got a new ride.  You want to check it out with me?”

Maybe it was foolish to accept. Maybe he was trying to butter you up and find out some of L’s secrets. Maybe he was just bored and you were the perfect solution.

But you said yes, anyway, because you were absolutely bored and this was entirely new. You let him grab your wrist and pull you through the hallways, let him sneak you out--suppressing breathy giggles, your heart-rate raising--and onto the street where he guided you onto the back of his motorcycle and told you to hold on as tight as you could.

You’d never gone so fast in your life. You’d never smiled so much in your life, either.

Could anyone blame you for saying yes without question when he showed up soon after, too? For primping a little before he arrived, for wearing an outfit you thought might look cool? For feeling your heart flutter when he gave you a quick little wink and said you looked nice? 

No, they couldn’t. And if they did, well. Fuck them. They weren’t stuck at an orphanage for geniuses with an internationally renowned brother that was always busy, gone, or both. 

But most people couldn’t blame you, you were sure. Most people had common sense. 

They couldn’t blame you for the breathless way you fell against your bed when he returned you home each night, cheeks ruddy from the wind, grin plastered on your face, either. Or the way that you dreamt about the nights to come, wondering if rides in the darkness, blurry lights passing you by, might turn into something more. 

He’s taking you out tonight, too. He said so. 

And it’s going to be a turning point, you just know it. Last night, Matt mentioned something about a diner--imagine that, going into a diner--he liked, and would you like to try it? Maybe you tripped a little too quickly over your yes but that’s to be expected. You hardly talk to anyone but your brother and he’s barely around, so where does that leave poor little you and your social skills? 

It doesn’t matter, because your thoughts have turned to tonight and the diner. Will it be a greasy spoon, the kind you’ve seen in movies? Will the floor be checkered and will there be milkshakes and fries and burgers dripping ketchup? If there’s a jukebox, will Matt have coins to plunk inside? Will he let you pick the music? Will you dance? Will he press himself against you, this time chest to chest instead of your chest pressed against his back, and will you lean in and kiss you? Will he be warm, will you be warmer, will things go from there? 

There’s so much to consider, thoughts racing, mind connecting the potential pathways of tonight. 

You think about them all morning, all afternoon, and into the evening.  You think about them while you’re taking a shower, taking extra care to rub on a scented lotion that you’ve rarely used before. 

The thoughts race even as you’re flipping through your closet to find something that doesn’t look like a pair of comfortable pajamas. You settle for some tighter jeans and a close-cut gray sweater. The effect is cool, casual--interested but not desperate. Or so you hope. 

The sky gets dark and that’s when you force yourself into bed, grabbing a book that you open but don’t actually read. When Matt comes, you can set it down slowly; it’ll keep you from leaping out of bed as soon as he leans against your door frame. Your eyes dart back and forth on the page, not reading the words but letting them rush over your brain like a waterfall while you wait, and wait. 

And ah, there’s the sound of someone’s knuckles gently knocking and pushing open your door--you don’t even look up, you just set the book down sweetly as you please and stand, smoothing out a wrinkle in your sweater before you look up and…

It’s not Matt in the doorway at all.

It’s L. Standing there, arms folded, resting against the door frame like his sudden appearance didn’t make your stomach drop through the floor. 

“Oh.” The word forms slowly. It feels like there’s peanut butter in your mouth and the words don’t want to get out. “Um. Hey. Is… something wrong? I thought you were working on a case.”

L blinks. 

“I am.” He looks you up and down; or rather, he looks at your distinct lack of pajamas and your carefully styled appearance.  “Where were you going?”

You shift on your feet. The look that you were coolly proud of ten minutes ago suddenly feels like it’s a traitor.

“Just uh, you know. To bed.”

He smiles, and your nerves tingle. 

“In boots?” Your toes flex inside your brown boots, carefully chosen to go with your jeans. L shuts your bedroom door behind him. “Who took you out?”

Your stomach squirms and you press your lips together. The silence is heavy and droning.

“I can check the cameras,” he says easily, “but I’d rather you just tell me.” 

You’re a little kid again, caught stealing L’s notebooks and shoving them under your pillow so he had to pay attention to you. And even if he knew exactly where you stashed them, he’d rather make you tell him and admit your guilt than do it himself. 

“Matt,” you whisper. The heat in your cheeks builds. “It’s not a big deal. We were just riding around.” But it is a big deal, you think. And you wanted more from it.

L hums. “What a strange thing to do, since you’re not allowed to leave at night. Especially if I don’t know about it.”

A scoff forces its way through your throat. “I’m not allowed to leave during the day, either.” Your lips quirk. “I’m not a child. You can’t keep me in here all the time.”

Your brother only stares at you and he doesn’t even need to say “Yes, I can” because you know he’s thinking it. And you know it’s true, too. 

It’s not fair, the way he makes you feel like you’re having a tantrum when you’re simply asserting your right to some basic freedoms.

The injustice of it all slithers down your arms, building in your fists as you clench them tightly at your sides. “I’m sick of being here all the time. It’s like I’m in a fucking… ant farm! Or a doll house!” 

Without an invitation, L pulls out your desk chair and takes a seat. He leans forward and you find yourself standing up straighter, refusing the implicit invitation to get on his level. 

“So. What would you like to do?” He asks. The softness in his voice is a contrast against your own rising anger, the unbearable tightness of your throat.

“I don’t know,” you say, half-spitting. “Go outside.” Thoughts of a vague future rush through you like the wind past Matt’s motorcycle. “Get an apartment, live on my own.” 

L nods. “How would you pay your rent?”

Your lip quirks. “I’d get a job.”

He nods again, and his eyes half-close, like he’s genuinely thinking about your responses. 

“I see. What kind of job?”

You swallow, throat tight, and shift your legs. The boots aren’t terribly comfortable, are they? “I-I don’t know.” You cross your arms. “A waitress or something--something like that.”

L leans back and rests his elbow on your desk, watching you with his chin in his hand.

“You couldn’t afford rent on a waitress’s wages.” He glances down at your legs and feet, already tired from standing for a little while. “And you know that you can’t be on your feet all day.” Something in your chest stings and you back up, unwittingly resting your backside against the bed and sitting down.

“I’ll go to college and be something else, then,” you whisper. “I’ll get paid more money.”

L only looks at you and tilts his head a little. “You can get a college education here, if that’s what you want.” 

“No!” Your fists clench against your blanket. “It’s not the same. You know it’s not. I’d be able to make friends. And meet new people and do things and not be stuck in the same place every fucking day.”

You’ve never made concrete plans for such a future, but the vague notions of it, the idea of meeting people in a coffee shop and having inside jokes and making plans to get drinks after work, all picked up from movies and books, have stuck like taffy in your head.

L waits a few moments before he speaks up. It makes you hate how sensible he seems. “You’re kept in the same place because it’s safer. It’s my job to take care of you, isn’t it?”

That’s when your voice cracks, and when the tears finally threaten to make an appearance. “But you’re not the one taking care of me, are you? You’re barely here.” Hot tears prick at your eyes and fall too easily, and you hate them and hate yourself for being so pent-up, so emotional. So weak.

And just like that, the stand-off, pitiful as it was, is finished and L is up and over, sitting down on your bed and pulling you close to him. Familiar scent, familiar softness. Familiar hands. How many years has he held you like this? When you had nightmares. When you wanted mom and dad and they were dead. When you were scared of being at Whammy’s, scared of the people there, scared of the fact that you were only there because of who your brother was. And everyone knew it, too.

“I take care of you even when I’m not here,” he says softly.

You scoff, tears choking your throat. 

His grip on you tightens. 

“I mean it. I can’t protect you if there are too many unknown factors at play. Staying here is the best way to reduce them. I can’t be with you as often as you like, but that can’t be helped.” He relents enough for you to pull away, to show him the tears on your face, that he dutifully wipes with his knuckles, even as he adds a bit of mirth to his voice. “You were stuck with a genius brother, I’m afraid.” 

When your lips tremble, he sighs.

“I don’t want you to get hurt. And this is the safest option.”

It’s too hard to hate him and hate your life for too long. Resentment and bitterness aren’t fleeting, but they’re awful companions. 

You smile, just a little, through your sniffles. “Oh, like you haven’t hurt me before, L.”

He pulls one of his arms from around your back just so he can flick you on the forehead. “Beating you at wrestling is vastly different than putting your life at risk.” 

You wipe at your nose, brushing away a hint of snot and some of the heaviness in your chest. “You only beat me because I was little.” You sniff. “I could take you now.”

His eyebrows quirk up, and your chest flutters a little--this was a feeling you remembered from when you were younger, a feeling that became harder to come by as the years went on. Sibling silliness. Joking. Fun. “Could you?” He asks, tone rising in a way that eased the tightness in your throat.

You meet his raised eyebrows with a determined look. And there is that moment between you, a moment when you are anticipating each other’s moves. But before you can wrap your arms around his shoulder and attempt a tackle, he moves--much faster than most would give him credit for, given his general lackadaisical vibe--and there are two thumbs digging into your sides.

It’s a horribly ticklish sensation, just bordering on painful, as he digs his thumbs underneath your ribs. 

“You’re a fucking--cheater!” You manage between short laughs as he begins to twist his thumbs. Thankfully, your arms are free, and you grab one of your pillows and whack him in the head until he stops and gets off your bed.

You’re catching your breath as he kneels down. You don’t know what he’s doing at first until he’s got your leg in his grip, and begins to slide off your boots. You bite the inside of your cheek, but stay limp as he pulls them off, one at a time, and sets them on the side of the bed. 

You half-expect him to go into your dresser and pull out pajamas, but instead he eyes the pillow you set next to you and straightens up. 

“Give up on your pillow assault so soon?” He asks, a smile on his lips. He raises his hands and moves his fingers. “Or should I keep going?” 

You pout, and cling to one of your pillows. “Fine.” Your grip tightens and your feet feel lighter without your boots on. “I give up. Cheater.”

He snorts, and walks back to lean against the wall next to your door. There’s that heavy silence again, but now you know exactly how the rest of the night will go and it hurts more. 

“You’re not going out with Matt again.” It’s not a question. Not a bargain. Just a simple fact.

Your chest hurts and hugging the pillow doesn’t help, but you do it anyway. You should have known this was coming--happiness never stays, and all that. Nothing you said or did was going to change L’s mind on this or make your nights with Matt last longer than they did.

“Will you tell him?” You sound like a mouse. You feel like one, too, under your brother’s stare, on this bed, in this room, in this house. 

He smiles.

“Sure.”

It’s a small mercy. If L didn’t love you, you’re sure he wouldn’t give it. 

#yandere l lawliet #yandere death note #yandere l #yandere #platonic yandere #afterwitch writes #I meant to finish a vampire fic but I'm stressed about a medical test tomorrow #so vaguely comforting fucked up sibling platonic yandere it is!

[rose-lunaire]

Hi! I would like to make two requests for nbc Hannibal characters!

1. First kiss

2. Them having an obsession on reader

If you can please focus more on Bedelia and Hannibal. Thank you!😊🌻

hello sweetie, i already wrote a bit about obsessed boys in the past, so let me fulfill the first part of your request. thanks for reaching out and enjoy!

nbc hannibal characters having their first kiss with reader

pairings: hannibal x gn!reader, will x gn!reader, bedelia x gn!reader

warnings: none spotted

hannibal lecter

i see him making the first move quickly compared to the others

when he sees something he likes, wants he just goes for it

prefers to deal with the consequences of his actions much rather than the aftermath of not taking his chance

so it was your fourth date and he was waiting for you just outside the restaurant

and just when he was getting bored, he saw you: eyes glimmering, smile radiating off your features

he greeted you with a polite nod, to which you replied with an excited squeal and both hand waving his way

“hannibal” you exclaimed, running the last meters up to him

and he just kissed you

wanting to capture the sound of his name on your lips, engrave this moment in his mind and never let it go

drinking the vibrations like a starved vampire would drain his last meal

he asserts his claims towards you, professing his attachment and respect all in that one kiss

surprised and a little flustered, you were the first one to pull away

“whoa, someone’s eager to see me” you teased, chuckling your blush away

hannibal quickly regained his poise and extended his arm for you

“you don’t even realize how much”

will graham

he knows he has problems and doesn’t want to pull anyone into it

especially someone so genuine and caring as you

so after months of playing hide-and-seek with his feelings, he finally accepted you invitation to dinner

at 8 o’clock he finds himself reluctantly knocking on your door

you wanted this date to feel cozy and away from any prying eyes, so you’d both feel comfortable

you wanted will so open up so bad, after being colleagues for so long and never ever getting close to talking for more than five minutes

yet you felt such closure every time your eyes locked like with no one else

it was a warm evening, filled with quiet laugh and longing looks

ended with a small peck, a goodbye gift and a promise

will visibly uneasy and vulnerable

so you whispered “thank you”

“no, thank you”

there is definitely a next date coming

bedelia du maurier

she really likes to keep control of all that happens around her

and you’re the only one whose actions she can’t seem to predict

wild breeze bringing sanity into her awfully insane life

she appreciates your perspective on things, doesn’t always likes it but she’s grateful for your willingness to help

slowly, she begins to trust you and so your weekly talks become a much awaited tradition

one night, after one too many glasses of red wine, bedelia just opens up

talks how she can’t ever stop looking over her shoulder, how she questions every single decision, how she can’ stop analysing a mere gesture or word

but not with you

she’s really not the person to talk about her feelings, it’s like there’s always a mask on her face

but at that moment, it just dropped revealing a beautiful and vulnerable creature

and you just kiss her

it’s passionate and comforting, reassuring and fiery

the wall around bedelia falls down spectacularly just as she starts to build a new one: around the both of you

giving away protective glances to any nosy bystanders, she’s brimming with happiness and relief

#hannibal x reader #hannibal imagine #bedelia du maurier #nbc hannibal #will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal reactions #murder husbands #yandere hannibal #yandere #will graham x reader #hannibal preferences #hannibal #hannigram #first kiss #hannibal fluff

[cuethediscoandthedrinks]

some random sfw+nsfw colonel quaritch headcanons~

• bites his bottom lip with his top row of teeth; harshly sucks in a breath with his mouth corners spread far apart when he's either thinking hard, or accidentally hurt himself

• clicks open a penknife he kept with him, and lightly presses his thumb against the open blade when he's lost in thought

• manspreads. not leaning back, but hunching over with his forearms resting atop his knees

• is a big fan of 'nuh-uh/uh-uh' when he disagrees with someone/something, usually whilst cocking an eyebrow

• has an inner sassy that comes out when someone eats the last of his favourite meal, or he has to search around his quarters for a lost belt or radio comm

• likes to ever so subtly closed-mouth hum along to some old country songs from back when he was a human, usually when he's fresh out of the shower. but also if he forgets himself mid-forest patrol, whilst hacking away at the stray vines

• is a bad loser. has a lot of big talk, but goes pretty silent when he starts to lose a card game; less insecure silent, and more bore his eyes into your soul while he juts out his bottom jaw through gritted teeth kinda silent

• misses fried eggs. he used to eat them plain too, just like 3-4 eggs cooked up on a plate, ideally with a fork and nothing else (maybe some pepper?)

• has a hangup about the fruit on pandora. it irks him that despite hating the seemingly airy fairy lifestyle and diet of the na'vi, after a long hard day he now craves a sweet, juicy fruit to chomp into more than anything else

• scrunches up his nose when he hears a joke he doesn't like. he doesn't care for intellectual/wordplay humor. he's secretly a big physical comedy fan; slip down a wet bank? trip over a stray root? choke on some water? he'll belly-laugh

• speaking of, he laughs like how 'hahaha' writes. he's a 'HA-ha-ha-HA-heuUUUgh-AHahahaHaa' laugher, like right from the chest, a little hoarse. def cups his tummy with an open palm when he laughs too

• he'll shit-talk anyone, but primarily those who he deems deserve it. any random person or textbook 'vulnerable'/weak person is almost too tame for him to enjoy mocking, oddly?

• it took him about 2 weeks to really get mentally comfortable sleeping with a tail. he tried fetal, he tried back, he tried left, right; he now sleeps face-down starfish with a foot off the end of the bed bc he kinda wants the under-bed demons to fight him. he'll fight anything

• says "..aHh, fffuckk i'm..c-cumming" when he cums. like, he'll utter some kind of let-you-know phrase, and then swiftly detour into telling you how much you'll love his seed, or how good it must feel to be filled up, or how fucked out you'll be when he's done with you

• counts down when he gives you an order sexually. if you resist which he hopes you do he'll stop, purse his lips and intimidatingly yet blankly stare at you, and begin with a sigh and an "..alright. 3."

• loves to spit in his palm, and then smear it across your cheek and lips. he smirks or straight up grins when he does it, and'll even sometimes dip two fingers into your warm, wet mouth just to amuse himself

• additionally may test your resolve and gag reflex. he finds it both incredibly arousing yet endearing when you gag on his fingers, so he'll push them as deep down your throat as you can bear. maybe spit into your open mouth while he does it if he feels like it

• deeply enjoys humiliating you. it's a big ole power surge for him, and he'll exploit any moment in which your facade falls and you show your innate meek and flustered interior for him

#i.e. the life of a militant enneagram 8w7 #+reqs open lovelies #colonel miles quaritch #avatar miles quaritch #miles quaritch x reader #miles quaritch smut #miles quaritch #colonel catboy quaritch #colonel quaritch #na'vi x reader #na'vi quaritch #jake sully x reader #jake sully smut #jake sully #tonowari smut #tonowari

[calliesadeckis]

Hi! Love your work, could you write a dick Grayson fanfic abt him and a quiet female reader warming up to each other (set between season 1 and 2)?

yes, of course!!!! god, i've wanted to write for titans on here so bad i just didn't have the inspo so thank you<333

—

talk to him

titans dick grayson x fem!reader

sunmary: you weren't exactly much of a people person. especially since you were 1 of 2 adults living in a huge tower in san francisco, watching over 3 kids you don't really talk to outside of training. and the only other adult being closed off so who knows what'll happen when he decides to talk to you out of no where

cw: not much, there's just some fluff with a teaspoon of angst because of communication issues (they both suck at small talk and beyond)

a/n: idc what anyone says about this show, it's given me so much comfort and a lot of fun and likable characters. so i'm so glad i can write for them as long as you guys send requests for them. as well as other characters from other shows like yellowjackets and etc. also i love dick grayson, even though he can be a bit annoying in this show (that i can admit) but he's hot so ajsjfndmfmf. also, i'm sorry it took sooooo long, writers block got to me badly these past few months, so i apologize if it's cringey and awkward. but i do give the benefit the doubt here because this story is suppose to be like that (also the fact i'm projecting my "bad at small talk" trait here). two grown adults that can't seem to have a normal conversation, like at all

masterlist

after the trigon incident you were dragged in by circumstance, you were the only other adult to volunteer to help dick with... whatever he was doing. you didn't have any life to go back to anyways, and you made a connection to everyone else so why part ways and it be unlikely to see them again. sure, you weren't particularly close with the kids, but, what are you supposed to do in order to bond with them? so that left dick in titans tower, but he wasn't as much of a talker as you outside of training.

everyday for the past few weeks have been, eat, train, sleep, repeat on a loop, no 'how was your day' questions, because the days are always the same so there wasn't any point of asking. and you could tell the kids were getting bored of it, very fast, and you could not blame them. being stuck in a repeating pattern with nothing else happening started getting old after the first couple weeks. so, you didn't really know how long it would take til something changed, it couldn't be like this forever.

during this time, you admired the grayson from afar, he was attractive, what else could you say? you weren't an idiot. and you also were aware of his previous entanglements with kory and you didn't wanna be involved in that. and, well... you felt like a teenage girl having a crush on a guy who was going through some shit, so it was better not to bother him.

and not being much of a talker doesn't make the conversation about feelings be any better. like, maybe this was attraction and nothing more? you were aware of the difference between liking someone physically and liking them emotionally (specifically in a romantic sense). but even as you admired him, you learn things about him, paying attention to the little things. deep down, he cared for other people, if he didn't, he wouldn't have taken rachel in and helped her, and he wouldn't have done the same for gar or jason either. people just have their own way of showing their love and care.

but your admiring wasn't exactly subtle. rachel had noticed it when you were looking at dick from across the room, talking with jason. the roth wasn't sugarcoating anything when it came to this, "you keep staring, you're probably gonna be capable of shooting lazers from your eyes." and you knew she was joking around but she caught you by surprise, making you face the young girl. "why is it any of your business?"

"because it's kind of sad seeing you pine for him like this." she points out, "and also, gar and jason made a bet whether or not you'd confess. we have eyes, you know?" and she lightly bumped your shoulder with hers with a smile on her face, "and i'm sure dick feels the same way, though he's not very good of showing it."

"that is ridiculous." you shake your head, "one, i don't like him. not like that. i just think he's cool."

"are you sure about that?" the roth rose her eyebrow, "talk to him." but you were not moving from where you were so rachel decided to take matters into her own hands, she then gave you a push (a literal one) towards him, and now you couldn't run away. all you could say was, "hey..."

"hey." he responded. jason just stood there awkwardly in between the two of you, "okay, well uh—" he pretends to look at a watch that's not even on his wrist, "look at the time, i must be going." and he had immediately ran out of there before dick tried to stop him. there was an silent pause and you were trying to figure out what to say, but before you could, he asks, "do you want some coffee?" all you did was nod. after that, there was even more silence, you two haven't had a conversation that wasn't training related in like, a while. it just felt like you were both strangers who didn't know each other nor were you fond of one another.

"you're just as bad at small talk as i am, huh?" you finally had spoken up. and dick just shook his head, "i don't know what you're talking about, i know how to make small talk."

"oh really?" you rose up your eyebrow, "okay mr. 'i know how to make small talk', what do you wanna talk about? and please, don't let it be training related. because if i have to hear you talk about that one more time, my head is gonna explode." you tried to look irritated, but he could notice a small smile on your face. then he immediately went into the 'deep, emotional' stuff, "you never told me why you came here. you just did, and i'm surprised you stuck around as long as you have."

you answered it anyway, because why not, "well, it's not like i have anywhere else to go." you set down your drink, making direct eye contact at him, "besides, the second i got here, and realized how big this place is and i have my own room... what, did you expect me to pass it up?" and you ended up making him laugh, which was surprising, "what is so funny, i'm just being honest." you were unsure why he was laughing, so you just took a sip of your coffee. he explained, "your honesty is refreshing, that's all."

"really?" and he nodded as a reply. you just sighed, taking your coffee and leaving. it's not like you had anything else to talk about and just sitting there would make it more awkward, so you just left. does it make it any less weird? absolutely not.

you guys didn't talk much after in the next few days, up until you decided to play hero on solo when you see a woman getting mugged by this guy in a mask. it was like one of the many movie cliches that you see brought into reality.

too bad it didn't turn out like expected, where you got shot in the leg. thankfully, the kids were able to track you down and bring you to the infirmary, gar was trying his best to patch you up and rachel was there for emotional support. as for jason... there wasn't much else he can do than just stand watch, up until dick had walked in with a worried expression, and the three teens immediately rushed out of there as soon as he walked in the room. you could've left if you wanted too but, obviously you couldn't.

"jesus fuck, you could've gotten yourself killed, what were you thinking?" all of his emotions were being let out in that moment, it was the most emotion you've seen him express towards you in like... ever. yet you couldn't help but be a bit sarcastic, "yeah, keep yelling... it's not like i'm literally a few feet away from you or whatever."

dick sat on the edge of the bed and started to explain, "sorry, it's just... when i heard what happened, i didn't know how to feel, or express it correctly." he gently set his hand on your injured leg, softly, "just if anything happened to you, i—"

"i'm tougher than you think, grayson." you reassured him, and you noticed a tiny smile creeping up on his face.

"i know it's just... i don't wanna lose anyone else."

you lean up a bit to set your hand on his shoulder, "i'm not going anywhere, dick." you then stopped for a second as you come to realize, "and we just had a conversation that didn't involve small talk. maybe i should get myself hurt more often." you were obviously joking at that last part, but dick's reaction to it was priceless, "i'm kidding. you are just... not what i expected."

"the feeling is mutual."

a part of you wanted to kiss him, that it felt right, but another part was saying how the timing of it all wasn't. and maybe these feelings you're having are actually real. because now, there was something in your heart that was growing that wasn't just admiration, and it felt weird, but a good weird.

maybe when the timing is right, they'll get to it, but until then, your growing friendship in the moment is enough for now.

#titans #dc titans #dc titans x reader #titans x reader #dick grayson x reader #titans dick grayson x reader #dick grayson x you #dick grayson x y/n #dick grayson imagine #jaiden writes things #maydayforus

[kamianya-ttv]

You’re not lazy, you’re neurodivergent:

A post on executive dysfunction, ADHD inattentiveness and hyperfocus, and whatever else occurred to me as related as I originally wrote this for twitter.

If you’re like me, you’ve probably been called lazy by people in your life. But the thing is, there’s almost no-one (if anyone) who’s actually lazy. And I promise you, if you’ve felt guilty because there are things you should be doing and can’t get them done? You are NOT lazy.

I'll get to executive dysfunction, the main focus of this thread in a moment. Because I want to start by talking about ADHD and hyperfocus.

Is it hard for you to pay attention to things you don't enjoy, but can focus for hours on things you do?

Does the world ever disappear to the point you forget to eat/drink while you're working? Can you suddenly get days worth of work done in a short amount of time, but only once it's the last minute, or when you get into the zone? But you don't necessarily have control over getting into that mode?

Hyperfocus

The reason this is related to this thread is that often this is the "proof" that you're lazy. Look, if you're interested you get things done! Look at how much you can do when you "just make yourself" or "just focus"! Clearly you just don't want to do the thing.

I can't tell you how many days I've sat there trying to get into a zone that's eluding me, losing sleep and feeling guilty, just to finally hyperfocus in the final day and pull out a miracle.

But I have ZERO ability to force it (I have tricks! but it's not the same).

Hyperfocus often gets brought up as a "you can't have ADHD, look how focus on the things you enjoy! Look what happens when you do focus!"

But actually, it's a major aspect of inattentive ADHD!

So, that's why hyperfocus matters in this convo.

Now onto Executive Dysfunction.

To start with, a quick note: Executive dysfucntion is not just an ADHD thing. It's an aspect of a lot of different neurodivergencies.

Also, this is primarily from my perspective as a person with ADHD, I'd love to hear your versions of these experiences!)

I like to describe executive dysfunction as "the start button isn't there."

Also, this isn't just for chores or boring things.

Have you ever sat there going "I want to game" but it just never happens?

I sure have!

When you have executive dysfunction, this means that starting tasks can be near impossible. You just can't get yourself to start it. Often, you may sit there staring at the document with the blinking cursor, or looking at the stove, or glancing at the full laundry basket, etc

But again, there's no start button. You just can't do the thing. Which makes it really hard when people tell you to just focus, or that you could do it if you just cared, or that you're just lazy.

Because we want to do the thing! We do!

(I mean, okay, want may be a strong word sometimes, I never WANT to do chores, but it's still not an intentional putting it off. It's more an "I need to do this thing, I know I need to, I want it to be done, but I can't get myself to do it")

Now for me, and many with ADHD, once someone points out you haven't done the thing, or when the deadline comes close, suddenly the start button appears

Which again, people use as proof you totally could have done the thing the whole time.

So clearly you were just lazy & are only doing it cause you got yelled at/prodded/nagged.

But this isn't true, there was no start button!

@adhd-alien has a PERFECT comic on this: https://twitter.com/ADHD_Alien/status/1138475368191598594

Now, we learn tricks to deal with this. Or meds may help.

For me, I find ways to enforce outside deadlines, or I'm more likely to have. a start button for something I'm doing with/for other people.

But ultimately, our brains just don't work the same.

So for someone where the start buttons are always there, who assumes everyone is the same as them, it looks like we're actively making the choice not to hit start.

So they call us lazy, unable to see us desperately trying to hit a button that's just. Not. There.

Now, add on to this all the other comorbidities that come with neurodivergency, we almost never have just one thing. Add on physical disabilities or chronic/invisible illnesses or chronic pain or fatigue.

All of these make it so much harder.

There are SO many things that affect our abilities to get things done.

For example, I had a doctor appointment four days in a row (OT, neurologist, OT, infusion). I also helped schedule an event, and did a stream.

Before MS and chronic pain that would be nothing.

I could have done SO much more, filled my days with getting things done.

Now? I'm spending today on the couch, recovering before my stream tonight.

And I have to fight so much guilt, because I feel like I should be doing more. But my body just CAN'T.

So.

Do you feel guilty, but you just can't start the thing?

Is there no start button?

Are you exhausted and your body is insisting you rest?

There are so many things that affect our ability to do things.

Brains, bodies, the world we live in.

But you're not lazy.

#ADHD #executive dysfunction #hyperfocus #laziness is a myth #its the neurodivergency #neurodivergent #autism #I promise you're not alone #spoonie life