#even though the movie in question has nothing in common with frozen

[homunculusalphonse]

at the same time i can understand the criticisms towards frozen, i also feel that the ppl who hate the movie are even more annoying than the fans

#captain's log #remember when every single disney movie out there had the same comments 'oh this is WAY BETTER than frozen' #even though the movie in question has nothing in common with frozen #and even if it had #it's just idk... #ranting

[pinguwrites]

Black Heart | Chapter One: Evening Cigarettes

Pairing -> Thomas Shelby x fem!poc!reader

Summary -> The year is 1920, and you have no idea how you got here. One moment, you were in your bed, and the next, you were lying in a field of grass, thousands of miles away from home. All you know is that you're in a small town called Birmingham, and you need money. Fortunately, the local gangster is in the market for an accountant, and you're in the market for a job.

Warnings -> swearing, mentions of racism, suicide joke, reader kinda has a dark sense of humor, tommy being a bit of an ass, sorry for the short chapter

REWRITTEN 9/29/23 - CURRENTLY ON HOLD

Word count: 1.8k

Disclaimer: Peaky Blinders characters, plots, quotes, etc. do not belong to me and belong to the rightful owner(s). This is only fanfiction and this is just for fun.

Series Masterlist

There wasn’t much to be said about Birmingham. It was a small city, located somewhere in England, filled with dirty streets and coal-stained men and nothing of any interest at all. For the past few days, you had been walking around the place in an almost dream-like haze, searching for food scraps and pieces of suitable clothing, wondering why the fuck you were here and how.

It’s all those movies you’ve been watching, your mom’s voice rings in your head. Too much fantasy and not enough reality. 

A part of you wondered if you should have listened to her words, if this world you were now a part of was the result of an overactive imagination and a desperate desire to escape reality. Maybe this was some cruel trick the universe decided to play on you, maybe you had passed out and all of this was a sort of long-term coma. Perhaps it was a mass prank and everyone here was just actors — but you thought that to be highly unlikely, given, you know, common sense. 

The only other possibility you could come up with was time travel. Even if it was probable, there were so many questions: Why you? Why this time? 

No, you’d just stick to the most simple and likely answer: you were fucking insane. Right now, in the real world, you were being locked up in some mental facility, strapped to a bed, and being monitored by doctors and nurses. Your mom was in tears, wondering where she had gone wrong with raising her daughter, and you were oblivious, wandering around in the year 1920, with no way to get back.

You kicked a pebble, watching it roll across the dirt ground. While that was the going theory, you still didn’t know what to do. Your instinct to survive was just as strong as any other day, and you were still plagued with hunger, pain, and fear.

So far, you had no proper shelter, no stable source of food and water (though the nearby well and some restaurant scraps were doing just fine for now), and you had nothing acceptable to wear except a dirty gray dress you found in some dumpster-like area. You had actually cleaned the damn thing yesterday, but it still had this nasty stench like foul body odor, and a couple of ripped holes. It was at least better than the clothes you were wearing beforehand — a white, loose, crop top and some fuzzy shorts, which had garnered nothing but stares of disgust and pity when you walked around in them. I’m naked to them, you realized, and that was when you made the endeavor to search for new clothing; as well as the fact that your modern outfit was doing nothing to protect you from the bitter chill. 

Not that this dress was doing any better. You predicted that you would die soon from the weather. Probably in your sleep. While you hadn’t found any shelter, you did find a little corner by the side of an apartment building. That’s where your body would be found, all frozen to death like meat in a fridge. But what else were you supposed to do? It was the best place you had.

You continued walking down the road, kicking that same pebble again. Your toes and fingers were numb and you were sure that you were going to get a cold, though that was the least of your worries.

The sky was a dark gray and it seemed like it was going to rain soon. You looked up from the ground and glanced over the area, a habit you picked up ever since you saw someone getting mugged here. The entire city of Birmingham felt like a small town, with its little businesses and shops along the side of the unpaved road. Occasionally a few people would walk past you. They would either ignore you and mind their own business, or stare at you like you were some exotic specimen. Fucking racist pricks.

You reached into your bag — thank god you had a bag on you when you were transported here — and pulled out your phone. It was dead, but you kept checking it out of habit. Not like you could call anyone even if it was charged, but it would have been nice to spend your last moments watching a good movie or scrolling through old pictures to reminisce about the past. 

Everything else in the bag was just hand sanitizer, a mask from COVID days (oh, God, what if I’m carrying COVID and spread it?), lip balm, and a small pocket knife. All things you were glad to have, but not particularly useful. It would have been nice to have a book on survival in the wilderness, or a lighter. 

You sighed, your breath coming out in a white smoke in the bitter air. You wanted to crawl into a ball and collapse. You wanted your mom to hold you, or your friends to lighten the mood with silly jokes. Why did this have to happen? Why me?

When you arrived at the apartment you were ready to curl up and sleep, but you noticed a flickering sound, and turned around to see a man, leaning against the wall of the opposite building. 

He was handsome, with a gray cap and a dusty black coat on. He seemed to be stopping only for a moment, lighting the cigarette between his fingers before moving on, but he noticed your stare and gave you a cold look.

“You need something?” he asked, in that same, strong British accent you heard everyone around here speak in.

“No.” You shook your head, feeling a little bad for blatantly staring. “My bad.”

The man took a puff of his cigarette. “Do I know you?”

“I don’t think so, I’ve never seen you before.”

His facial expression didn’t change. It was in that same cold stare. “Do you know who I am?”

“Well, I’ve never seen you before,” you repeated yourself, getting a little irritated. Your day was already going bad — scratch that, your whole week had been a fucking roller coaster, and now you had to deal with an arrogant prick who thought he was shit. “Are you some kind of celebrity?”

“You’re American,” he stated, ignoring your question. “Tell me, Miss . . .?”

“[Y/N],” you said.

“Miss [Y/N]. Tell me what a girl like you is doing in Birmingham?”

“I’m not quite sure,” you responded honestly. “What are you doing here?” you asked, not enjoying his attitude. “What’s your name?”

“You’re a cheeky lass, sweetheart.” He grinned a little, amused, like this was all funny to him. “My name is Thomas Shelby. And this is my town.” He paused, his grin dropping. A horrible feeling sunk in your gut. “I ought to know who lives in my town, eh?”

He took a puff of his cigarette. “Come here, sweetheart.” 

You hesitated but walked forward a little, ready to run at a moment’s notice. He had that dumb hairstyle every man here was rocking, but it fit him. It made him look nice.

You didn’t say anything. Neither did he. But then the man called Thomas Shelby offered you a cigarette and asked, “Are you a whore?”

You stood there, stunned, not accepting his offer. “No.”

He looked you up and down again. “How old are you? Twenty-three? Twenty-four?”

“Eighteen.”

He didn’t say anything to that or indicate that he was surprised.

“You have family ‘round here?”

You shook your head, thoughts running wild.

He must be a gangster. Like Al Capone, only British, you thought, feeling nervous. What was he going to do to you? He wouldn’t harm you, would he?

Of course he’s going to harm you. That’s what men like him do.

“Ran away, eh? Nice story.”

“I never said I ran away,” you said, thinking you ought to stop this conversation right now and bolt in the opposite direction out of this town.

“Then what happened?” He walked closer to you. His face was neutral, but you could tell he was suspicious, otherwise he wouldn’t be asking all these questions. “I’m not going to ask again.”

“Good. Now, will you leave me alone?” Your voice dropped to a more quiet tone. “Please?”

Mr. Shelby looked like he was thinking. “This isn’t a safe place for young girls like you,” he finally said. “You shouldn’t be out here,” he gestured to the streets, “alone, with no one to protect you.”

“I’m doing just fine” you retorted, but made an effort to sound as polite as you could. 

“Fine?” He took a look at your clothing. “Yes, very suitable. I’m sure you enjoy being homeless.”

“I’m not homeless,” you defended, even though you were, indeed, homeless. 

Being reminded of your hopeless situation made tears pricked at your eyes, and you felt silly for wanting to cry, especially in front of him, but it was all just so hard. You didn’t feel right getting upset, other people had and were facing worse, but all you could think about was how much you wanted to eat a hot home-cooked meal and a nice bed to sleep in.

“Are you going to cry?” he asked.

“Do you like it when people cry?”

“Not particularly.”

“Then you should leave me alone, because I probably will.”

You averted your eyes, feeling ashamed for admitting that to a random stranger, a stranger who was probably judging you right now, a stranger who was probably a fucking criminal.

Mr. Shelby walked even closer, to the point where you were now just a feet apart. You could see the freckles scattered across his face.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some paper money, handing it over to you. “You see that building?” He pointed to the one beside you, the one you’d been sleeping behind. “This should be enough to get you a few day’s stay.”

You were stunned, hesitantly taking the pounds and blinking the tears away. “What do you want from me?”

“Nothing.” He shrugged. “Just doing a decent man’s work, sweetheart.” He looked into your eyes. “Last I remember, the landlady of this building is hiring a maid. Ask her about it, tell her that Thomas Shelby referred you here.”

You agreed, not wanting to say anything that would make him change his mind, but you were still wondering why he changed his mind. Did he like it when girls cried? Did it make him feel like a hero? Was he planning to use you later for something? You didn’t know, and no matter how many times you tried to guess, it was useless, because you couldn’t tell what he was thinking. 

“Thank you, sir,” you breathed out, feeling a little bad for your snippiness. 

He nodded his head at you, lingering for a moment before walking in the opposite direction. You watched him until he was out of sight, a warm feeling in your tummy.

You walked into the apartment, finally inside a building for the first time in a while. You told the landlady, an old Asian woman, that Mr. Shelby had referred you to this place and the job. She took the money and eagerly offered you a room to stay, though you noticed a fearful hint in her eyes.

She got you a warm bath, saying that you must tell Mr. Shelby that she was very happy to take you in — subtlety, of course, and lead you to your new room.

You laid down on the bed, taking in the comfort of the sheets. Very quickly, you fell asleep, drifting off into a slumber after a long day.

#thomas shelby #thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x you #peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfic #black heart #pinguwrites

[txtscenarios]

first kiss with hueningkai /

rating: teen

an: gender neutral reader

you know that he's planning to kiss you the moment you see him that day– his hair is properly styled, newly dyed, and he's wearing a cute button-up-sweater-vest combo. it's not often that the two of you hang out in anything besides sweatpants or pajamas

the moment he invites you inside, he says, "the others went out to see a movie." that's your second clue as to what's inevitably going to occur

the third is the state of the common area. the main lights are out, but he's hung up fairylights along the far wall. there are a couple of candles lit on the coffee table, and your favorite snacks placed about

he's not romantic. you've known this about him from the start. he is silly and funny and charming and shy, sweet all of the time, and caring just as much. but he doesn't do romance; doesn't care for it the same way some of his team members do

so it makes you smile, this setup. you see that he's tried for you

he lets you pick the movie. that's clue number four

he is sitting next to you on the couch the entire time, just a space away, your thighs not quite touching, and he is nervous

his leg, the one touching the floor and not curled up under him, is shaking horribly, and his fingers flex atop his pants, seemingly unsure of what to touch or do

you pretend not to notice the way he glances at you every few seconds. when your eyes meet his by accident once, though, he looks away so quick you almost coo at the way his cheeks turn red

you know you could make the first move, but you want him to be able to do this on his own time. he is the kind of person who needs room to grow, to learn, and coddling doesn't help him with either of those things

the movie is almost over, and you're thinking that the others will surely be home soon. time is running out, and it's seeming more and more like he's not going to be able to work up the courage

as the credits roll, you flash him a small smile that he hardly returns. his leg is still shaking, hands trembling in his lap

"i should go," you say. and then, "the others will be home soon, right?"

he nods, doesn't speak, and you make to stand, about to head over to the front door to slip your shoes on. he usually walks you outside, but he seems frozen, unable to move from his place on the couch

and then. then

his hand snags your wrist. his fingers are so long, curling all the way around, meeting. he's still shaking, but when he looks up at you, there is a sort of determination you've never quite seen on him before

because he is all tall, gangly limbs and soft, soft hair that sometimes curls into his eyes when it is freshly washed. he is too many stuffed animals piled on his mattress to even see the comforter, video games going until 2am, and hoodies that he lets you borrow without even promising to give back. he is everything all at once, and nothing in particular. he–

when he tugs at your arm, you stumble forward, and he catches you, smoother than he ever has been. you're perched on his lap, hands pressed against his chest, and he is looking up at you like he can't quite believe you're real

one of his hands finds your hip, curling, and the other slides along the back of your neck, gently urging you closer

his eyes, deep brown with spotted flecks of honey, never leave yours, flickering back and forth as if to ask you a question

slowly, you nod

he surges forward like he is starving, desperate for the taste of you

the kiss is clumsy. misses the mark a little bit. your lips misalign at first, passion too much, but then he shifts, slotting your mouths together perfectly. it's not much; just the hard press of your lips, heated as he holds you close. but it is everything

you know this is his first kiss the moment he stills, unsure of what to do once the urgency bleeds out of his touch

you're happy to guide him the best you can, gently cupping his jaw with one hand as you tilt his head back. he follows your lead, opening up for you so pretty, blooming like a flower

his mouth is so soft, perfect bottom lip caught between your own, little puffs of air escaping shakily

your tongue, ever so slight, peeks out, grazing his bottom lip. another question, though this time, it's his turn to answer

he shudders, fingers twitching against your hip, pulling you closer

carefully, you coax his mouth open a bit further, tongue sliding past his lips

he's hesitant, his own tongue pressing to yours after you gently run your fingers through his hair, ensuring him that it's okay

once you've had a taste of him, it feels like you can't get enough

he is sweet like the candy he was eating just a little while ago, sugary, tempting. beneath that, there is the slight taste of toothpaste, and something so him

the hand on the back of your neck slides down to the base of your spine, his palm smoothing up your shirt. he is warm, fingertips smoothing along your skin, goosebumps rising in his wake

the urgency returns the longer the two of you kiss. his tongue twines with yours, hot and wet, and he whines against your lips, breathing hard through his nose

if you shift your hips just so, you can feel him through his pants. he knows it as well as you do, pink high on the apples of his cheeks

he pulls away to suck in a deep breath, and then he's back again, all tongue and teeth, tugging at your bottom lip, tasting your mouth

you twine both hands in his hair, tugging so that his jaw goes slack, the groan that escapes him loud and breathy in the quiet of the room

"please," he whispers, but you're not sure what he's asking for. he cranes his neck to kiss you deeper, whining, "please, i- want you so bad."

you're not sure of what else you can give him; not sure how to please him besides the obvious, and you want to, you do, but you don't want to cross a line that he isn't ready to cross

you slowly pull away from him, his lips red and swollen, slick with spit and so, so pretty

he understands. hears the chime of his phone signaling the imminent return of the other boys, and allows you to climb out of his lap

he holds your hand as you slide on your shoes, making you stumble, and he giggles as you fall into him, pressed close

he kisses you downstairs just before you leave for the night, and it's as if he's done it a million and one times before

an: as usual, i didn't proofread /

#hueningkai smut #huening kai scenarios #hueningkai #huening kai #txt smut #txt scenarios #hueningkai x you #hueningkai x reader #huening kai x reader #m.fics

[submissivegayfrenchboy]

Which Disney Prince would rather have as your Prince?

A) Prince Naveen (Princess and the Frog)

B) Flynn Ryder (Tangled)

Would they be loving or dominant?

01 / 03 / 2023

🇬🇧🇺🇸 ENGLISH / ANGLAIS 🇺🇸🇬🇧

ASK ANSWERED

Hey thanks for your question about Disney 😊

Even though I have written a story where Prince Naveen of Maldonia humiliates his servant Lawrence, what I thought erotic about him was to portray him as an arrogant Prince who was used to have all he wants.

If I wanted to be dominanted by Naveen, I would have liked to live what happened in my story, to be humiliated by this superior man, and to be like Lawrence, a weak white male forced to obey a handsome black future King

Now at the end of THE PRINCESS AND THE FROG (2009), Naveen became someone kinder who appreciate what really matters.

Now my answer is to be loved by Naveen. He doesn't like to work first, but then he learns that the things that means something deserves that you fight to keep them. He seems to have more personality than Flynn.

Flynn Ryder from TANGLED (2010) - but I prefer his real name Eugene Fitzherbert - is as handsome and kind as Prince Naveen, but I have the impression that he is too common. If the characters designers had kept him as how he was supposed to look at first, I would have chosen him.

Your question allows me to say something about Eugene / Flynn. He is sublime. But that is precisely the problem. Most people who love her love her for her beauty. He's tall and muscular, the first Disney animated male hero to wear a goatee since Phoebus in THE HUNCHBACK OF NOTRE-DAME. The problem is that Flynn knows he's handsome: he worries about the drawing of his nose on posters to find him, thinks he can soften Rapunzel by giving her a charming smile...

Of course I found Flynn handsome, and he is. But there is nothing that differentiates him from previous princes. He is a thief (and Aladdin was): certainly Flynn is a bandit, but even when we learn that he has a painful past it does not have enough consequences.

Going back to his physique, the fact that this man is the first one Rapunzel sees gives the impression that he is the ideal male (large (white) muscular male).

So let me tell you about the physique he could have had in the film.

He was first thought to be a fat man of average height (since he would have been the same as Rapunzel). A somewhat exuberant and funny prince.

Nowadays we talk about the fact that Disney puts on minorities, but honestly we don't care if there is a gay or fat secondary character when the main characters are still big muscular dudes! Why didn't you show a pretty young girl wanting and falling in love with a fat, not very tall man? There were already Disney couple with non-fat women with tall muscular white males. In short, the creators were not brave enough to sexualize fat men and show that they can be hot too.

Then Flynn could have been a somewhat bohemian man, with harem pants, long hair styled a bit like a pirate. It could have shown that despite the feminine side of his look (long hair, flowing pants, colorful and floral-patterned outfits, flashy jewelry), he can still be masculine and strong.

For me this look is the best because it has enough originality to stand out from the other Disney heroes, and it was with a sufficiently similar physique not to be too different from them.

Finally, Flynn was almost a very tall guy, a bit silly and paunchy, but nevertheless muscular and protective. This physique was more or less retained for Kristoff in FROZEN.

A rather fat man, a little feminine or too tall: that's what could have made Flynn less ordinary. So my return question would be: what is your favorite version of Flynn Ryder?

🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

🇨🇵 FRANÇAIS / FRENCH 🇨🇵

RÉPONSE À UNE QUESTION

Même si j'ai écrit une histoire où le prince Naveen de Maldonia humilie son serviteur Lawrence, ce que je trouvais érotique chez lui, c'était de le dépeindre comme un prince arrogant qui avait l'habitude d'avoir tout ce qu'il voulait.

Si j'avais choisi d'être dominé par lui j'aurais voulu qu'il m'arrive ce qui arrive à Lawrence dans mon histoire, où le gros valet blanc est humilié par le sublime mâle noir arrogant.

Maintenant, à la fin de LA PRINCESSE ET LA GRENOUILLE (2009), Naveen est devenu quelqu'un de plus gentil qui apprécie ce qui compte vraiment.

Maintenant, ma réponse est d'être aimé par Naveen. Il n'aime pas travailler d'abord, mais ensuite il apprend que les choses qui signifient quelque chose méritent que vous vous battiez pour les garder. Il semble avoir plus de personnalité que Flynn.

Flynn Ryder de RAIPONCE (2010) - mais je préfère son vrai nom Eugene Fitzherbert - est aussi beau et gentil que le Prince Naveen, mais j'ai l'impression qu'il est trop commun. Si les créateurs de personnages l'avaient gardé tel qu'il devait être au départ, je l'aurais choisi.

Ta question me permet de dire quelque chose à propos d'Eugène / Flynn. Il est sublime. Mais c'est justement le problème. La plupart des gens qui l'aiment l'aiment pour sa beauté. Il est grand et musclé, le premier héros masculin animé Disney à porter une barbiche depuis Phoebus dans LE BOSSU DE NOTRE-DAME.

Le problème c'est que Flynn sait qu'il est beau : il se préoccupe du dessin de son nez sur des affiches pour le retrouver, croit pouvoif attendrir Raiponce en lui faisant un sourire charmeur... Évidemment que j'ai trouvé Flynn beau, et il l'est. Mais il n'y a rien qui le différencie des princes précédents. Il est un voleur (et Aladdin l'était) : certes Flynn est un bandit, mais même lorsque l'on apprend qu'il a un passé douloureux ça n'a pas assez de conséquences.

Pour en revenir à son physique, le fait que cet homme soit le premier que voit Raiponce donne l'impression qu'il est l'idéal masculin (grand mâle (blanc) musclé).

Laisse moi donc te parler du physique qu'il aurait pû avoir dans le film.

Il a d'abord été pensé comme un homme gros et de taille moyenne (puisqu'il aurait fait la même que celle de Raiponce).

Un prince un peu exubérant et drôle. De nos jours on parle du fait que Disney met des minorités, mais honnêtement on se fiche de savoir qu'il y a un personnage secondaire gay ou gros quand les personnages principaux sont encore des grands mecs musclés ! Pourquoi ne pas avoir montré une jolie jeune fille désirer et tomber amoureuse d'un homme gros pas très grand ? Il y avait déjà des couples avec des mâles blancs grands musclés.

Bref, les créateurs du film ont été lâches.

Ensuite Flynn a failli être un homme un peu bohème, avec des sarouels, des cheveux longs un peu coiffés comme un pirate. Ça aurait pu montrer que malgré le côté féminin de son look (cheveux longs, pantalon flottant, tenues colorés et à motifs fleuris, bijoux voyants), il peut quand même être masculin et fort. Pour moi ce look est le meilleur car il a suffisamment d'originalité pour trancher avec les autres héros Disney, et il était avec un physique suffisamment similaire pour ne pas être trop différent d'eux.

Enfin, Flynn a faillit être un géant gaillard un peu benêt et bedonnant, mais néanmoins musclé et protecteur. Ce physique a été plus ou moins conservé pour Kristoff dans LA REINE DES NEIGES.

Un homme plutôt gros, un peu féminin ou trop grand : voilà ce qui aurait pu rendre Flynn moins quelconque.

Ma question de retour serait donc la suivante : quelle est votre version préférée de Flynn Ryder ?

🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴🐸🤴

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@fartsub1 @leftprogrammingroadtripdean @tidodore2 @rainykpoptravelcreator @gayhopefullove @chrisevansxmalereader @delicateaestheticwritingmug @emerldarchr @lovefanfiction01 @innerpiratefun

#Disney #Prince Naveen #Naveen #Prince #Eugene Fitzherbert #Flynn Ryder #Tangled #Raiponce #Princess and the Frog #La Princesse et la Grenouille #Film d'animation #Animated movie #Film #Movie #Question #Would you rather #Ask answered

[oncetherenowhere]

I'm scared that I'll never have a true friend.

Every time I thought I found someone, I got hurt. I tried to learn from my perceived mistakes. I got better at communication, I invested in things other people liked, I accommodated. For years- for all my life, even now, to be honest- I blamed myself. I changed my behavior. I shrank. I made myself into a person who can't even answer the question "What kind of music do you listen to?" because any shred of authenticity terrifies me.

But I realized over the weekend while I was frozen and resting that the true common thread has been me standing up for myself.

That's the thing. Every single friendship, when I started putting up boundaries, no matter how small, it tanked the friendship; sometimes slowly, sometimes overnight.

I'm a Yes Man. Down for anything. Ready and willing to step out of my comfort zone for people. When I feel safe with someone, and feel more comfortable saying "no," I'm dropped. I was scouring through all these memories and found the example over, and over again.

The answer is, surely, to put up boundaries first. To not make friends by making myself a blank slate, or a mirror. To be honest, to be...myself.

Just be yourself. If people reject you, they weren't meant for you. So much easier said than done...but what choice do I have? To lie forever and hold inauthentic relationships? To be honest, but get rejected over, and over, and over again, only to find someone, but be too afraid to be friends after all the rejection? To start off one way, then slowly be more honest about myself, only to be rejected?

I know, it isn't that dramatic. Plenty of autistic people make good, strong friendships. It's possible! I know it is.

But I'm so lonely, and I'm so afraid of other people. I'm paranoid. I wonder what they're saying about me behind my back, if they secretly hate me- and therapists have tried to tell me that this is irrational, which, yeah, sometimes it is! But in my case, it's actually happened to me, more than once. How do I cope? By being more sure of myself, more comfortable with my identity? But how do I do it?

The horrible thing is, I love people. I really, really do. I love people so much. When I make a friend, I really do want to listen to the music they like, check out the books and movies they like, do their hobbies with them...I love it so much, being connected to someone else. I see so much beauty through the eyes of other people. I want to see their inner worlds, I want to know all about them.

Consistently, though, when I've tried to open up, I get nothing back. I get my music made fun of, my taste in media rebuked, my hobbies scoffed at. I feel like I can only exist on other people's terms. I'm the admirer, never the admired.

Never...what a big word. I've said it before, but H loves me. He admires me, and he shows it, and I believe him. So 'never' isn't entirely accurate.

But I have no one else to talk to...no one else to do stuff with. I used to be happy and comfortable going out alone, but now it makes me sad.

I hate how much I've torn myself down. More than that, I hate that it was for nothing. I've got nothing to show for my 27 years of self destruction but a tattered self esteem, no friends, a body so stressed out that it gets sick constantly, and a job I thought I'd love but that wears me down even more.

Sorry for the dramatics. I've been ruminating a lot again. It's hard. I try to distract myself, I try visual exercises, I try to feel it and move on, but nothing seems to work when my brain latches onto it. All these memories...I feel like I relive moments of my life constantly, like I'm right back to my kindergarten classroom, or a mall foodcourt, or a house I'll never step foot in again.

It helps to vent here though.

#journal #tw ableism #I think? #I'm not sure. This is a vent post though.

[survey--s]

653.

Do you know what the most common bird is in your area? Seagulls, pigeons, blackbirds, sparrows, robins.

What last made you feel ecstatic? Cancelling my weekend walk so I get a full weekend off without absolutely NOTHING planned for the first time since August lol.

What would make you feel happiest right now? If all my walks tomorrow cancelled but I still got paid, hahah.

How many teeth have you had extracted? Just my two upper wisdom teeth.

Do you ever read magazines? Not anymore, no.

What is something you’ve been reflecting on? Nothing in particular, really. I've been too busy lately to really reflect on much at all, hahah.

What’s something you like and dislike about the town you live in? I love the location - right by the sea and not far from the national park and all the amenities. I also love how friendly everyone is and how quick they are to help you out or support you if you need it. I do wish there was more to do though - it can be quite isolated in winter.

What’s a Halloween movie that you enjoy? I'm not into scary movies really but I do like The Addams Family movies with Christina Ricci, and The Nightmare Before Christmas.

Would you say you’re more confident now than you were 5 years ago? God yes, most definitely. Ian even commented on it last time I saw him at my old workplace.

Have you ever or would you try carrot bacon? I've never tried it but I would, yeah.

What’s the last thing you purchased that was frozen? Skin on fries.

Would you ever walk a runway if given the opportunity? If I was getting paid, sure.

When did you last do something that scared you? I honestly don't remember.

What is something that you’re curious about? Whether these calming meds for the dog will always be this effective. Honestly, it's been living having a different animal in the house today, he's been SO chilled out. It's amazing.

What time do you usually eat breakfast? During the week it's at about 8am, at weekends it depends on when I get up and what my plans are.

What is something you did as a child that you would never do now? Participate in team sports lol.

What’s been your favourite memory of 2022? Galloping down the beach in the sunshine on Joe.

When were you last inside a tall building? Uh, when we were in Manchester I guess. Our hotel was pretty tall.

Is it currently quiet in the room you’re in? I mean, it's not loud but the TV is on and I can hear the dryer running.

Is there someone you can honestly say you hate or have hated? No.

What’s currently on your mind? I kind of need a wee.

Would you consider yourself to be a messy person? No, I'm definitely the opposite of messy lol. I find mess/dirt really stressful, to be quite honest.

What makes you most anxious? When there's something wrong with any of the animals. We've had them all at the vets in the last few months and it's been both expensive and stressful lol.

When did it last rain where you live? It's raining now lol.

Do you prefer multi colored lights or white lights? I like warm white ones in general, but colourful ones are cute on the Christmas tree. Except we never have a Christmas tree because of the cats, ha.

What’s something you’d change about the world if given the chance? God, millions of different things. The world is a mess.

Would those closest to you say you talk too much or not much at all? It depends on the conversation, I guess. Some topics I can talk for hours, other times I just prefer to listen.

Do you consider yourself to be more basic or complex? In what ways are you like that? I honestly can't be arsed with a question like this lol.

Where is somewhere you’ve been wanting to go but haven’t had the chance? Tokyo, Skye, New Zealand.

Do you have a song you cannot listen to anymore due to a bad memory? No.

Have you ever had a candlelit dinner? Sure, quite a few times.

What was the last shot you’ve taken? Drink wise? Probably vodka. Injection wise, my last COVID booster.

Do you need to apologise for something or are you waiting on an apology? No and No.

What’s something you strongly believe in? Kindness to animals.

Do you have a dream that is close to being accomplished? Maybe I'm weird but I honestly don't have any specific treats.

Would you say you’re in a good place mentally? Yes, for sure.

What type of jokes are most funny to you? I'm a huge fan of dad humour lol.

Would you or have you ever had a pet rat or mouse? No, they don't really appeal to me. Plus we have cats.

Are you currently trying to make a decision on something? No.

When did you first start feeling more grown up? When I moved to university.

What kind of chapstick do you use? Vaseline or Burts Bees, whichever is closest.

How many pillows do you prefer to sleep with? Normally two, sometimes three, sometimes one.

What is something you’ve kept bottled up for a long time that you now have released? Hmm, nothing in particular comes to mind.

Have you ever broken a cell phone charger? Sure, loads of times. Especially those cheap fake Apple ones.

What’s a popular candy that you do not like? Wine Gums.

What scent is most prominent in your home? At the moment, the candle I have lit which is Pumpkin Pecan Waffle.

Have you been having odd dreams recently? Yeah, really vivid ones actually.

Do you frequently forget appointments? No, never.

What is currently sitting on top of your refrigerator? Two cats.

How many orange objects can you see from where you’re at? None.

Would you rather have extremely long hair or a very short hair cut? Long hair, I think.

When did you last use lotion? About two hours ago.

Do you currently have any prescription medications you need to pick up? No.

What’s your favorite kind of chips/crisps? Kettle Chips or Pringles.

How do you like your coffee or tea? If I'm at home, I just have them both with milk and sugar. I don't have tea out and about really, but coffee-wise I like Cappucinos and flavoured lattes.

#survey #surveys

[more-than-a-princess]

Continued from here for @electricea!

"I would imagine that some of the bravest people were considered silly for attempting a seemingly impossible feat," She agreed. Ryuji was nothing if not open-minded and optimistic: even the most terribly behaved customers seemed to bother him little, at least from what she'd observed upon various visits to his shop. There was no room for glass-half-empty thinking in his company: rather different than most of the people she spent time with, focused on the various ways everything could go wrong for the Royal Family. "Sometimes you will never know if you can achieve something if you do not risk something to do so."

For some, it was resources or physical ability. In Sonia's case, it was becoming clear that her risk was opening up her heart, something she'd chosen to keep closed since her school years due to every burden that came with it: visibility, duties, scrutiny. But it was easy to smile and laugh around him, with Sonia quick to reassure him that his question was not an obvious one. "It is not a dumb question," She assured him, her giggles settling before she continued. "The Alps are a mountain range in Europe, some of which pass through Novoselic. They are favored for their natural beauty throughout the year, with winter being especially popular for skiing and snowboarding resorts. There are several towns in my country whose economy is almost entirely supported by tourism to the section of the Alps that runs through Novoselic, and it is like stepping back in time." Various laws instituted by her family and the Royal Council had forbidden some contemporary updates, whether in structural design or simply forbidding cars in areas of the towns best explored by foot.

As the beginning of the film played on the screen, she shook her head at him with an amused expression. "I do not believe it, that you are afraid. Of anything," She replied, settling into her seat. "It is as you say: being afraid will ensure missed opportunities, and you are not the sort of person to turn away from adventure. We have that in common."

Though there was the possibility that she'd read him, and the situation, entirely wrong. As Sonia relaxed against the round, cushioned sofa seat, willing her own worries out of her mind in order to focus on the film in front and above her, she felt Ryuji go rigid. He'd frozen as soon as she'd accepted his open hand with her own, remaining that way as the planetarium's screen unveiled various shots of the night sky, from brightly lit cityscapes to constellations they'd never be able to see in Tokyo, all of it a backdrop to the love story featured in the film.

In the dark, just as the movie began to wrap up the story before the credits, Sonia frowned. Maybe he was like many other men she knew and didn't care to sit through such emotional tales, preferring more action and the adventure he spoke of. There had been other film selections, they hadn't needed to choose the most romantic of them all: he must have been made uncomfortable by it, or the hand she'd encouraged him to hold. At least with the credits rolling and people beginning to stand and file out of the theater, it gave her reason to reach for her handbag instead of him. Perhaps he just didn't know how to politely tell her she'd overstepped the mark.

"Yes, seeing the rural parts of Japan and all of the stars really does make one want to visit immediately!" She beamed, sliding to the edge of the round sofa. Getting to her feet, Sonia smoothed down the front of her skirt and waited for him to walk with her towards the exit. "And that is right! You are from Hokkaido, the northernmost part of the country. I have read it is quite pleasant in the summer and not too humid, and has beautiful ice sculptures and snow festivals in the winter. And plenty of crab dishes! Admittedly, I have never visited myself but I am sure I will enjoy it if you are guiding me. Though for now, perhaps we might explore the rest of the building? I believe there was a small exhibit about the construction of the planetarium, but there are also shops and restaurants here to peruse. What shall we explore?"

#electricea #Non-Despair AU: The Princess of Novoselic #(I cannot get over Sonia telling Ryuji he does not ask dumb questions) #(Before putting her own idiocy on full display and assuming he is uncomfortable if not repulsed by her hand holding) #(Who is going to spell it out for you Sonia. WHO. Because you need an intervention at this point)

[captains-simp]

Hi, I was wondering if you could do the angst prompts 9 and 10 for Wanda with a happy ending?

I sure can :) and I'm gonna combine this with @geek-2 request if that's alright with you lovely people

"Do I mean that little to you?"

"Was it all a lie?"

"Please don't go."

"I can't do this without you."

"I thought you wanted me to move on."

Warnings: lying, injury, me still not being too sure about the how healing works, breakup and Reader and Wanda being useless lesbians

5.7k words

[ masterlist ]

Buy me a coffee ☕

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

You knew when you started dating Wanda that there would be times she couldn't tell you the truth. For the sake of her missions, her own safety, that of her teams and even yours, there were just some things she had to keep secret.

You thought it would be small things like where exactly she was when she went on a mission and who was involved. But after seeing how quickly you grew concerned for your girlfriend, Wanda would start to tell white lies about other things.

It was common for her to get a little scratched up on a mission. She'd let you clean her up and fuss over her for a while over the small injuries. However when things were a little more serious she'd either hide it or make it out to be not that big of a deal. You'd scold her for that when you found out and she always promised to tell you the truth.

Yet when Wanda got shot she did far from it.

Wanda had told you over the phone that her mission had overrun. She assured you she was fine and that she would seen you again soon. In reality? Wanda was laying in the hospital wing in the Avenger's compound, planning to stay there until she was healed enough to be able to conceal her injury with a small bandage and a believable fake injury to explain it.

It had worked at first. Of course it had, you had never had any reason to suspect her of lying about something that serious before.

One night when Wanda was at your appartment she had disappeared into another room for a while. You called out to her a few times but had no response. So you went in search of your girlfriend and in finding her also found out her secret.

You opened your bedroom door after knocking and saw Wanda sitting back on your bed with the plaster dressing at her side as she inspected how her wound was healing. She had been so concentrated on the damaged skin on her stomach she didn't noticed you until she felt your presence in the doorway.

Her head whipped up as she pulled her top down and stood up to face you. You had your mouth slightly agape in shock, already knowing what Wanda was trying to hide but had to ask anyway.

"What was that?" You whispered, frozen in place in the doorway with your hand still on the handle.

"I told you it was just a deep cut." Wanda said as cooly as she could as she put the dressing in the bin.

"That wasn't a cut, Wanda." Wanda laughed lightly as she ran her hand through her hair showing her nervous habit. She couldn't make it any more obvious she was lying.

"It is. Sorry, I just got distracted, let's go back to the movie." The desperation to change the topic stung slightly, telling you just how much Wanda didn't want to tell you the truth.

"Let me see." You said, blocking her exit.

"It's nothing, y/n." Wanda refused to meet your eye.

"So you won't mind me seeing."

"It's not pleasant, y/n." Wanda said, trying to add some humour to lighten the tension.

"Wanda, show me."

"It's not-" but you were already reaching for her top on other side of the injury.

"Y/n, don't." Wanda refused to ever get physical in that way, always so afraid of hurting you. She didn't swat your hand away, she didn't push you or hold your wrist, she just stepped out of your reach over and over until she was backed into a wall.

"There's no point in looking." She defied but you already had ahold of her top and pulled it up to expose the gunshot wound.

Your breath caught in your throat as you saw the area a bullet had hit. The image of it would be one that stayed with you forever. Even if it was partly healed, the signs of trauma were still there.

"That's..." You could barely speak. "That's a... gunshot...mark." You weren't even sure you were speaking properly. Wanda didn't say anything, she only started at a part of the wall behind you.

"When?" You asked, letting her shirt down and picking up the plaster dressing from the bed. You struggled to undo it in your shaking hands.

"The mission." Wanda whispered, knowing she had to tell you the truth. The whole truth.

"It's healing quickly." You murmmered as you gently placed you dressing over the wound. The redhead didn't respond, still figuring out how best to say it.

Wanda had been away for another week after the call. You first assumed it had happened towards the end of that week. As you smoothed the dressing over as softly as you could it dawned on you what had happened.

"You called me after it happened." You said suddenly as you took a step away from her. Wanda looked down at the floor in guilt.

"You lied to me." You said as a tear formed, it was a lot to take in and you were feeling overwhelmed. "I could have helped you."

"You would have worried." Wanda finally said as she stepped towards you and tried to take your hands in her own.

"Of course I would have I'm your girlfriend! I have every right to worry." You fired back.

"Not about this, I was fine. I was being taken care of."

"This is not fine, Wanda. You were shot."

"I know the risks." Wanda assured, as though that was what you were thinking about.

"I know you do, so do I. But you're meant to tell me when bad things happen, I'm meant to be there for you whatever happens."

"Baby." Wanda reached out for you again and this time you let her. "I'm sorry. I just thought it would be better that way. You don't have to worry about what you don't know." She said softly.

"I'm always going to worry."

"I know, it just worked out last time and I thought it would be best now too." She rambled with a slight smile, clearly still anxious.

"Last time?" You stopped smiling when you spoke. Wanda's eyes widened as she realised her slip up.

"No, not last time! That's not- well it kind of-"

"What the fuck do you mean?" You pulled away from Wanda to put distance between you again.

"I just broke my leg once and stayed with the Avengers until it was healed it wasn't that bad-"

"You..." You breathed out heavily and turned around as you put a hand to your forehead, tears whelming in your eyes again. "You broke your leg and didn't tell me." You confirmed to yourself.

"I was honestly fine."

"Stop saying that!" You yelled in anger, beyond frustrated at Wanda for still not understanding you. "You're still lying. Do I mean that little to you?" Wanda rushed over to you quickly and tried to put her hands on yours again but you shook her off.

"No! No I love you so much." Wanda pleaded.

"All those times you told me the missions were extended..." You breathed heavily, starting to spiral as you realised how much there was to question. "Was it all a lie?" You whispered.

"No! Y/n, please you have to listen to me."

"I have been listening to you, and where has it gotten us?" You asked rhetorically, all energy drained from your voice and the distinct salty taste of tears attacked your taste buds, you hadn't even realised you were crying. You trudged like a zombie through the appartment with Wanda hot on your tail, still pleading with you.

"I always thought I could...where are you going?" Wanda asked as she noticed you putting your jacket on. You hadn't even realised you had done that.

"On a walk, I need to think."

"Please don't go." Wanda said, her tearful voice ripping through your heart.

"I need to be alone Wanda. I need to think about us."

"Us?" Wanda's voice was barely audible.

"I don't... I don't think I can do this."

"Y/n please it won't happen again." Tears were streaming down Wanda's face now as she begged you to stay. "I can't do this without you." Your hand hovered over the door handle until it dropped back down to your side. You walked over to Wanda and placed a soft kiss on her cheek before you left.

*

No longer being Wanda's girlfriend proved hard to adjust to. There were days you wanted to call her and apologise, desperate to make things right, and there were other times the heart ache was too much.

You seemed to always have her on your mind. Wondering what she was doing, if she was thinking about you, if she was taking care of herself, if she was moving on...if she was safe.

The weeks merged together and the pain showed no signs of going away. You didn't talk to Wanda and the Sokovian didn't talk to you. Nat still text you to check up on you but you always found yourself wishing she spent all that energy on Wanda. After all, it was you who broke up with her.

Eventually you were willing to do anything to get Wanda out of your head. You worked harder at your job and put in extra hours, you took up random hobbies that you didn't even enjoy, you even went on a couple of dates. Anything to be at home as little as possible. Your home was where you thought about her most, every room holding countless memories with Wanda, those moments being the ones you lived for with her.

The dates never led to anything, you didn't want them to. You weren't ready to start dating seriously again, you just wanted to be around new people but you always found yourself comparing them to Wanda. That was until the night you felt your heart shatter all over again.

Nat had invited you to a small party at one of Tony's beach houses. You had politely declined at first, making up some excuse about being busy, of course Nat saw right through you. She insisted it would be good for you to get out and while you knew she was right, you also knew Wanda would be there.

You didn't want to make things awkward, you just wanted to heal in peace so you could find some way of moving on. Your excuses were no match for the Black Widow's stubborness.

Not only did Nat persuade you to go after promising things wouldn't be weird, she also told you she would take you. The kind gesture was clearly just a disguise for making sure you really came. But you appreciated it all the same.

*

You had been anxious all day in the wait for the party. You and Wanda still hadn't talked to each other and you really wished you had. Would it have made the night less awkward?

Nat arrived promptly at the time she said she would and complimented you on your outfit. The drive wasn't filled with any unbearable silences like you had guessed it would be. In fact it made you realise just how intent Nat was on keeping your friendship and you quickly found yourself falling back into the way you used to. All that time spent around new people and it turned out you just needed to be around someone you knew.

"You feeling okay?" Nat enquired after a while.

"Yeah." You lied with a small smile and avoided her searching gaze. She clearly saw right through your lie...again.

"If it gets too much we can go whenever you want." Nat assured and you smiled genuinely.

"Thanks Nat." She shot back her familiar smile before turning her attention to the road again and before you knew it you had arrived.

It was a beautiful place. The house was sitting at the side of a small cliff with the front raised above sea level and the left side and back stepping out onto the sand. It was kind of place you would love to retire to and knew that Tony would probably only ever visit that house a few times. That seemed absurd considering the price and rarity of such a place, but you guessed billionaires never had to worry about that.

There were people scattered around the beach watching the last of the sunset over the sea. It was breathtaking to say the least, you wished you could have just stayed out there for the duration of the party.

What Tony considered to be a small party was one with friends and family. Problem was, Tony had a lot of friends. It just seemed like a much less formal party than you were used to. The atmosphere was welcoming and it put you at ease to see everyone like that.

You spent a while catching up with some of the Avengers you hadn't seen in a while and just like you had with Natasha, you found yourself falling back into old habits and convosations.

You weren't sure how long you had been there when you saw Wanda. She was strolling around the room, eyes roaming over everyone's faces as though she was looking for someone in particular.

She looked beautiful. Her hair was down and mirrored the movements of her short skirt whenever she moved. She had applied a natural look of makeup that reminded you of the few times you had tried to do it for her only for you to both discover she clearly knew what she was doing more than you. She had teased you about that for a while.

The sokovian's concentrated look was one you had always admired. Her focus on one thing, especially when that thing was you, had always made you smile, unable to stop yourself thinking you were the luckiest person alive to be her sole focus. You missed that all so much.

You weren't sure if you should approach her or not. Thankfully the brief moment Wanda caught your eye she smiled warmly and came over to you.

You smiled back before glancing down at your drink and playing with the fabric of your shirt, not really knowing what to do with yourself.

"Hey." Wanda greeted as she approached.

"Hey yourself." You replied with a nervous laugh.

"I'm glad you made it." She said genuinely.

"Yeah well, Nat basically dragged me over here." You laughed again but stopped when you saw Wanda's smile faulter slightly at your words. "Not that I didn't want to come!" You rushed. "I did I just..." You trailed off, not really knowing what to say. God, it was awkward.

Wanda hummed in acknowledgment and a silence fell over you both. You wanted so badly to ask how she was but couldn't get your mouth to form the words.

Wanda watched your conflicted expression and nodded a little to herself, thinking she knew what you were thinking. If she had used her powers she would have known how wrong she was.

"I'll see you around." Wanda said as she turned to leave. You almost called out to her to stop her until you realised you didn't know how to say it.

"Yeah...see you around." But Wanda was already walking away.

You wandered towards one of the balconys and leaned on the railing as you gazed out at the sea. It was getting dark out but there was still enough light to be able to see.

You watched the gentle waves from the sea hit the shore as the wind tickled your face and played with the hair you had spent a while on earlier that night. You had been on a constant battle of wanting to look your best and wanting to look as though you didn't care. You still didn't know what you wanted.

Your convosation with Wanda had left you more confused than ever. She had seemed genuinely happy to see you and yet things were so off. You told yourself that was bound to happen considering the circumstances, but you couldn't forget how quickly Wanda had wanted to go. Would you be able to be just friends with her? Was that something she wanted? Was that something you could even do?

One thing was for sure, you were definetly still inlove with Wanda Maximoff, and breaking up with her was the biggest mistake of your life.

You sighed heavily as you rested your face in your hands and tried to focus on the feeling of the wind against you. Would it be fair of you to say any of this to Wanda? To tell her how conflicted you had been and that you still loved her? To confess all of that to her when there was a chance she had moved on. Maybe you should have made your move before you knew for sure, because it was still unknown to you.

You looked up at the sea again as you rested your chin on your hands. You had to do something, before it was too late.

The familiar sound of giggling that had always brought a smile to your face snapped you out of your trance. You followed the sound of laughter and saw Wanda stumbling about on the beach, holding someone's hand as she guided them further out.

Even from the fair distant you could see the giddy smile on Wanda's face. That had always been a smile reserved for you. A familiar feeling of anxiety started to grow in your chest as you watched Wanda turn around to face the girl and cup her face in her hands.

You knew you shouldn't have watched. You knew it would hurt like hell, but you had to know for sure.

The Sokovian continued to smile at the girl infront of her before leaning forward to kiss her. Not a small kiss. Not a light peck. A slow, passionate kiss. The kind you remembered for a long time. The kind that held a special place because you took your time to familiarise yourself with your partner.

Your guts twisted and a sudden pang to your chest made you finally tear your eyes away only to realise your vision was blurred with tears. Your heart was racing and your breathing was shallow. You were too late.

You turned to go back inside and blinked back your tears in a desperate effort to have clear vision so you could locate Natasha and leave. Wanda's laugh continued to haunt you until you were back inside and the music was able to drown everything out.

You searched frantically for Nat and when you found her you saw her surrounded by a large group of friends. She was laughing with them and thoroughly enjoying their company, no doubt treasuring the precious time she could spend with them that wasn't work related. You didn't want to take her away from that.

You hurried through the house and called an uber but your hands were shaking and it was proving harder than it should have. When you finally got outside you leant against the wall and tried to steady your breathing but failed.

You leant forward to rest your hands on your knees and stared down at the ground, hoping the new position would help. It didn't.

Defeated, you slumped down against the wall and finally let yourself cry. You cried over your biggest mistake with Wanda. You cried over the relationship you had lost. You cried at the loss of the love of your life. It was gone, and you had no idea what you would do.

You eventually forced yourself to stop crying as you stood up from the ground. The ache in your chest was stronger than ever, but you just had to focus on getting home.

The moment you did, you broke down crying again.

*

You had texted Nat on the way back to your appartment telling her you had left, but that didn't stop the onslaught of calls you had later that night. You ignored all of them but made sure to text your friend that you were okay. While you didn't want to speak to Nat in fear that you'd tell her everything that was on your mind and the ache in your heart, you didn't want her to worry.

You didn't talk to Wanda either. God, did  you want to.

What you had seen played in your head like a glitchy television that still managed to present in high quality. You remembered that sweet smile, the joyful laugh, the way she only focused on the girl she kissed. Wanda had moved on while you had swerved off of that road and into a ditch, that was how it felt at least.

It was well into Sunday evening when Natasha knocked on your door. You were laying on the couch in your comfiest pajamas surrounded by every blanket you owned as you ate a tub of chocolate fudge brownie ice cream. So of course you weren't about to get up to answer the door.

"I know you're in there, y/n." Natasha called after a while. Your eyes shifted from the TV screen at the sound of Natasha's voice, but you still didn't want to get up.

"If you don't open the door I'm gonna let myself in." You rolled your eyes, nor believing Nat. Boy, you were wrong to.

A second later there was a click from the door before it swung open and Natasha stepped through, at least being nice enough to close it behind her.

"Really?!" You exclaimed. Nat gave you the one over before taking in your surroundings with a concerned look.

"I'm sorry I didn't come sooner." She mumbled as she strolled towards the couch and sat down by your feet.

"I'm fine." You clearly weren't, you were pretty sure your eyes were still puffy from your crying session ten minutes prior.

"What happened at the party?" Nat asked sincerely. You were about to question how she had put that together until you realised even someone who wasn't a superspy could figure that out.

"Nothing." You muttered, stabbing the ice cream with your spoon as you tried to keep your eyes on the screen.

"Y/n." Nat said sternly. You couldn't help but look back at her when she used that voice. You chewed your lip as you attempted to organise your thoughts, having no idea where to start. Luckily, Nat was willing to guide you.

"You talk to Wanda?" She enquired. You nodded as you stared down at the tub.

"It was unbearably awkward." You admitted making Nat chuckle.

"You talked to her since?"

Since my heart shattered again?

"No." You said sadly. "I don't think I can." You admitted, biting your lip in an attempt to keep your breathing and voice steady.

"Why not?" You sighed deeply, glancing between Nat, the TV and your melting ice cream.

"Have you talked to Wanda?" You fired back.

"I work with her, I'm gonna need you to be more specific."

"About...you know how she's doing and if... if she's moved on?" You didn't look at your friend as you spoke.

"No, I don't need to to know. Y/n what's going on?" Nat asked as she moved your feet to put on her lap so some of the blankets coukd cover her too. She proped her elbow up on the back of the couch and resting her head on it as she watched you with a concerned gaze.

"I think- no, I know I made a big mistake breaking up with her." Nat didn't respond so you kept going. "In that moment I just... I don't know I freaked out. I questioned a lot and instead of letting her explain I tried to make everything fit into place by myself, assuming the worst about everything. I should have actually listened to her." Your voice broke as you spoke, tears threatening to spill. "I miss her so much, Nat. I still love her but," You bit your lip so hard you were surprised didn't taste blood. "She's moved on. And now I can't get her back because if wouldn't be fair to do that when she's got someone new." Tears finally streamed down your face as you breathed heavily, the pain in your heart was immense at having to finally say it all aloud. "I've lost her."

Nat quickly moved towards you and enveloped you in a hug, letting you cry into her chest for God knows how long.

"Why do you think she's moved on?" Nat asked softly as she rubbed your back.

"I saw her with someone else. They way she looked at her..." You trailed off, not sure you could finish.

"I don't think that was what you think it was." Nat said.

"You think she was platonically kissing her?" You were surprised you even had it in you to make a sarcastic comment.

"It happens." Nat deadpanned.

"Not with Wanda." There was no arguing with that.

"She could have been tipsy." Nat offered and you finally pulled out of her hug to look at her questioningly.

"Why are you so sure of this?" Nat opened her mouth to speak but closed it soon after as though she thought better of what she was about to say and instead shrugged.

"She's moved on, Nat. I need to let her be and move on too. It's been long enough."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Nat asked, genuinely curious.

"I'll go on another date." You said simply. The redhead glanced around at the ice cream and the collection of blankets, clearly skeptical that you were ready for that.

You sighed and leaned over to grab your phone and brought up a text message from one of your colleagues. Nat read the message from a few hours prior of them asking you out on a date and how you had accepted.

"I have till Friday to get at least some of my shit together." You said when Nat had done reading.

"Is this the one that asked you out before?" Nat asked with some resistance in her tone, she knew all about that person.

"It is." You tried to ignore the resurfacing memory of that terrible day.

"She doesn't really seem like your type." Nat stated giving you a questioning look. She really wasn't. She was bashful and irritating among many other things. The complete opposite of Wanda. You theory was that if anyone would help you stop thinking about Wanda, even temporarily, it would be her. You were terribly mistaken.

"No harm in trying something new." You said simply, faking satisfaction.

"I guess." Nat muttered, clearly far from convinced but not discouraging you from your date. Turns out she had other plans.

*

It's not like you had high expectations for that date. The bar was so low and yet Ione still managed to limbo under it.

She turned up half an hour late in a car the reeked of cigarettes. You didn't mind that she smoked, it was more than being in a trapped space with smoke drifting around didn't get on too well with your asthma and she insisted it was too cold to wind the windows down even a little bit.

The restaurant was the only enjoyable part of the date. It was a nice, casual place that had a settling atmosphere, but the moment Ione started the convosation you were reminded of her nature.

She spent most of that dinner talking about herself and her 'amazing hobbies' that you gathered to be a bunch of bullshit. She was committed to it though, you'd give her that. As if her 'hobbies' wouldn't be enough to impress you (they definetly didn't anyway) the taller girl started to casually mention the hookups she had had recently. You were honestly baffled by her. She bragged about them like trophies, always smirking at you as though telling you to feel lucky she was giving you the time of day.

Everytime she said something new the only thing you could think was 'Wanda would never say that.' So in terms of taking your mind off of your ex? Ione failed in that department too.

Throughout the meal she never once stopped to ask about you. Part of you was glad for it, because you never had to talk. You got maybe ten words in that night, all of them completly disregarded. It was hands down the worst date you had ever been on.

"I'm just gonna have a smoke while you pay." Ione said casually as she stood up to leave, leaving no room for any objections. You opened and closed your mouth life a goldfish, somehow still shocked at her antics.

You sighed as you leant back in your chair and motioned to a near by waiter for the bill, thankful the date was finally coming to an end.

You stated down at your empty plates and allowed your mind to wander towards the place it always did. Wanda. You wondered if her dates had been nearly as bad as that one. She had always gone all out for your dates, treasuring those events that were limited by her work.

When you looked up again you felt your breath catch in your throat. It was as though by thinking of Wanda you had somehow conjured her. She stood in the entrance to the restaurant looking frantic. Her hair was frazzled and her clothes were ruffled as though she had exhausted herself going to the restaurant.

When her eyes finally landed on you you were unable to look away. She looked so god damn beautiful. The brown eyes you had come to love stayed fixed on yours as she made her way towards you, a determined look across her face.

"Wanda?" You asked, not quite believing how she was infront of you much less how you seemed to be her sole focus.

"Hey y/n." Wanda smiled weakly as though all confidence had gone. "Can I sit?" She asked, motioning to the chair Ione had been in.

"Err..." You looked towards the window where you could vaguely see your date on her phone while smoking. "Of course." Wanda smiled gratefully and sat down, instantly fiddling with the rings on her fingers, one of her many nervous tells.

"What are you doing here?" You just had to know.

"I um...I wanted to see you. I know this isn't the best time and I'm sorry-"

"But how did you know I'd be here?" You enquired.

"Nat told me." She answered truthfully.

"She what?" Instantly comfused and annoyed at Nat for telling Wanda that, why would she want to know.

"Y/n I know we didn't end in the best way." She started, glancing up at you nervously, the memory of that night reflecting in her eyes as it was in yours. "And I'm still so sorry for lying to you." She said earnestly, you couldn't help but listen to her words. "And I still...I still love you." She admitted and bit her lip as voice wavered slightly.

"I thought you had moved on." You whispered, not believing what you were hearing. You expected to wake up any moment to discover it had been a cruel joke your mind had played on you. It wasn't, Wanda was as real as ever and so were her feelings. "I thought you wanted me to move on."

"I never moved on from you, y/n. I couldn't." Wanda said as she reached out for your hand. You let her but didn't hold it back.

"But that girl at the party." You started.

"I was a bit drunk and just feeling sorry for myself. It was a mistake, and I regretted it as soon as I realised what I was doing." Wanda explained hastily. The frantic look in her eyes was back. It was the same look you had seen the night you broke up with her. This time you didn't disregard it.

You breathed out shakily and looked down at Wanda's hands in your own. Ever so slowly and cautiously, you closed your hands around hers and looked up at her again.

"I still love you too. I never stopped. You made a mistake and so did I." You said as a tear formed in your eye. Wanda smiled back at you and squeezed your hands lightly.

"And I'll spend forever making it up to you if you'll let me. Could we... could we try again?" She asked hopefully. You didn't spare a moment, nodding frantically. You eagerly welcomed Wanda back into your life, immense relief washing over you at the feeling of coming home.

You had missed her so much. You had a lot of lost time to make up for and you didn't want to risk wasting a second of it ever again. You leaned forward across the small table and so did Wanda, her perfume filling your sense and acted as a drug for the butterflies in your stomach. Yes, after all that time, Wanda Maximoff still gave you butterflies.

Whether it was because your thoughts were especially loud or it was just instinct, you didn't know, but it was perfect.

You kissed her slowly and passionately, refamiliarizing yourself with the lips you had never really forgotten. You only pulled away when you felt the bill being placed on the table. You blushed a little and quickly paid for the dinner before getting up from your seat and beckoning Wanda to follow.

When you left the restaurant Ione was about to come back in.

"Hey." You called. "You're welcome for dinner but it's not really working for me, good luck with those hookups though!" You said with a grin before turning on your heels back towards Wanda. Ione didn't say anything back, completly comfused by the encounter and gave a small wave in goodbye as you walked away.

"You want to go back to mine?" You offered with a grin.

"I'd love to but..." Wanda trailed off as she turned you towards her and cupped your face in her hands. She brought her lips down to yours again as you wrapped your arms around her neck to deepen the kiss, relishing in the softness of her lips. "Just had to do that first." Wanda explained with a grin before taking your hand again to walk with you back to your appartment again.

The appartment that you would very soon both call home.

#wanda maximoff imagines #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fluff

[mammonshuman92]

- It Takes Two - Pt. 2

(Mammon x Gn!MC)

Genre: angst to fluff (the fluff is coming I promise lol)

Warnings: cheating, not proof read , if i missed any TW’s I apologize

“We’re a little busy right now.” A familiar voice, biting and arrogant, came from his lap. His eyes widened, whipping his head around to look at you in his lap. Except it wasn’t you. It was her. His heartbeat accelerated as panic began to set in.

“No, no, no, no, no.” He chanted, standing up in an instant, causing the succubus to fall to the floor with a thud and a few profanities. As events began to unfold and the puzzle pieces started fitting together; when it was already too late, he realized what he’d done. A hard lump instantaneously forming in his throat. He turned to you, eyes wide with terror, hands on either side of his head tangling in his hair.

“MC..I..I-It’s not wh- I thought-” He choked out.

He followed your line of sight, which was glued to his undone pants and obvious arousal. With shaky hands and fingers unwilling to cooperate, he fumbled with his zipper, struggling to get it up. Arms from behind snaked around his middle, gently clawing at his chest. 

“Shall we finish what we started?” She hummed seductively, staring daggers directly at you.

You shook your head, a sob escaping your lips as a fresh wave of tears streamed down your cheeks. You brushed past Asmo, disappearing out the doorway.

What’s goin’ on..? ...This can’t be happenin’..

He shoved the girl’s arms off of him without saying a word, a scowl spreading across her face. He made a beeline for the door, Asmo quickly stepping in front of him to block his way. “Don’t. You’ve done enough..” With venom lacing his tone, he looked the succubus up and down. He turned his glare on his brother for just a moment, the utter disgust they held was evident, before running out the door after you. As his figure disappeared, Mammon could feel the reality, the weight of the situation setting in.

His heart was pounding against his ribcage, breathing becoming erratic. The lump in his throat was unwavering, choking him as tears streamed down his cheeks. The gravity of it all bringing him to his knees.

“How moving.” The voice behind him scoffed, reminding him of her presence, “It almost seems like you love them.”

His head whipped around to see her, lounging casually on the sofa as if nothing had happened.

“You.” He growled, harshly wiping his face with the back of his hand as he stood up.

 “Stay the fuck away from me!” He snarled.

She laughed lightly as she stood from the couch, crossing the floor until she was right in front of him. “Don’t be like that. Ten minutes ago you were ready to nail me on that couch.” She purred, her finger trailing down his chest, quickly moving lower. Like a flash, he grabbed her wrists and held her hands up in the air in front of her.

“Let me make one thing very clear to you right now. I don’t want ya. I only made out with you and shit because I thought ya were MC. I would never willingly do anything to hurt them.” He glared at her, making sure she caught that emphasis, before dropping her hands. “Your jealousy bullshit, and making moves on me while I’m drunk just made me lose the one thing that has ever been good about me..” He trailed off, releasing his grip in her.

She rolled her eyes, “Why are you getting so worked up over a human? There’s nothing special about-”

“Excuse me?” He growled. 

Mammon has always been the level-headed one when it comes to altercations, believe it or not. He never usually lets his anger get the best of him. After thousands of years of being the scummy brother, the thief, the loser, he got used to just letting people’s words fall upon deaf ears, so to say. But, that was not the case this time. You see, anyone could say whatever they wanted to about him, he didn’t care. He could handle whatever was thrown at him. 

You, on the other hand? Well, you’re flawless. In every miniscule way, you were perfect. That’s not saying that you don’t make mistakes, or drive him crazy sometimes, but to him there was absolutely not a thing about you he would change. Everything you did, everything you were, was absolutely immaculate.

Rage bubbled in his gut.

Leaning in closely, he towered over her, radiating ire. “I’m not gonna sit here and discuss why you’re wrong, seein’ as how it’d take all day, but what I am gonna to say is for a lesser demon, ya might wanna reconsider who you’re talking to. He spat, “Say one more thing about MC, and it’ll be the last time ya speak..” He whispered, glaring at her for a moment before taking a step back.

“Stay away from me and MC.” He warned once more, daggers in his eyes as he turned and bolted through the door.

If he had any shred of hope left, it was that you would talk to him and let him explain everything. He knew it was shitty, after everything that just went down, to even consider the possibility of you forgiving him, but he held onto that little shred of hope. Had he been in the right state of mind, had she not taken advantage of the situation and the state he was in, he would’ve never even stayed in the same room with that girl, much less go as far as he had.

He felt awful. Whether he was so drunk he was convinced it was you on his lap or not, he felt an overwhelming sense of guilt. After seeing the horror, the heartbreak on your face; the tears that stained your cheeks because of something he’d done, he kinda didn’t want you to forgive him. He didn’t want to lose you, couldn’t imagine continuing on without you in his life, by his side. But if you hated him now, he wouldn’t blame you. He deserved it. And he would live with it for the rest of his existence, knowing that he messed up his only chance at true happiness; at spending his life with his soulmate.

-

You bobbed and weaved as quickly as you could through the crowd of club patrons, needing to get far away from here as fast as you could, as your impending breakdown was sure to be a sight to see.

You were already so out of it; physically present but mentally, your brain had already shut off. Not quite sure how to handle the current situation. All the faces in the club were just a blur; you could feel the bass of the music reverberating inside your chest, but you couldn’t hear anything. Kind of like when you’re somewhere so quiet, the absence of sound feels so heavy, deafening.

You had to get out of here. Heart hammering wildly, you felt as if you couldn’t breathe; like the walls were closing in on you. A panic attack was setting in. Finally free of the sea of people, you darted out the front door of the establishment, running as fast as your legs would take you back to the House of Lamentation. Hoping that no one else would be home to see you; becoming witness to your unraveling.

-

*bing*

*bing, bing* *bing*

Your D.D.D. continued going off with near constant notifications well into the night. You could’ve just put it on silent, but you just couldn’t seem to move, frozen by heartbreak. Apparently several pictures were going viral on Devilgram, leaking this rumor and that regarding the second born and the succubus. Further making you look and feel like a complete fool.

Mammon had also been blowing up your phone since you made it back to the HOL. He had even come by your room in an attempt to talk to you but once he realized the door was locked, which had never happened the entire time you’ve lived here, he sat outside the door begging you to open it as loud sobs escaped him. As much as you wanted to, you didn’t budge.

Of course you still love him. How could you not? Hearing his desperate pleas and heartbroken sobs was almost too much for you. Although you were the one who had been betrayed, you wanted nothing more than to fling the door open, latch yourself onto him and never let go. But you couldn’t. Cheating is a dealbreaker. It’d happened before, in previous relationships, but shit this one hurt so bad, worse than any other heartbreak you’d had.

He had his faults, much like everyone, but he was so perfect for you, and treated you like you’d always dreamed. This couldn’t really be the end could it? Over, just like that? Completely smitten and in love two days ago, to heartbroken, crying on the bathroom floor. 

How are you supposed to move on from this? He’s your best friend. Or, was. How are you supposed to pass him in the hall, or eat dinner, or have House movie nights in the common room? How are you supposed to act like you're not still in love with him..?

-

The next week was pretty rough, to say the least.

You stayed locked away in your room when you weren’t at RAD; replaying the moment you saw them together, crying until the tears no longer fell; effectively torturing yourself. They’d all come knocking at your door countless times, trying their best to make you feel better. And while you appreciated it wholly, it didn’t help.

Avoiding Mammon was probably one of the hardest things you’d ever done, seeing as how you kinda live together. While it was extremely hard not to just run up to him and latch onto him like you always did, it seemed harder to just avoid him in general. 

During the first few days, he left small presents outside your door, had a couple of his brothers slip you notes, and waited for you after class a few times. After using every ounce of your willpower to avoid him, he left you alone. He still messaged you several times a day though, apologizing profusely, begging you to talk to him.

But, it was better this way right? Like ripping off a band-aid? 

That’s what you’d always heard anyway. Instead of asking questions and demanding answers as to why someone else chose to hurt you, you just cut it off right there, ghosting them; removing yourself completely from their life. Because if they truly cared, really loved you, they wouldn’t make the conscious decision to do something that they know would hurt you, that stepped outside the boundaries of your relationship. Their reasoning doesn’t matter. Aside from living in the same house and attending the same school, you had pretty much ghosted him.

In public anyway. In the privacy of your room, where you could feel everything to its fullest, you’d spend hours going through pictures, skimming Devilgram for any new gossip about the two of them. Re-reading your old text messages, finger hovering over the send button of the text you’d typed out a hundred times before deleting it and tossing your phone, a new wave of tears pricking your eyes.

-

Unable to sleep, he’d tossed and turned in his bed so much that his body ached and one of the corners of his sheet had popped off the bed. With a heavy sigh, he rolled over and grabbed his D.D.D. off the nightstand. Squinting his eyes harshly when he unlocked the phone.

“3:41am” He groaned, tossing the phone back onto the nightstand. He turned back over, facing the empty side of his bed. Sure, he didn’t often share it before you, but once you started sleeping together, he wasn’t sure how he’d ever slept before you came along. It just felt right. Your body molded against his, sleeping peacefully in his arms.

His hand trailed down the cold, empty sheets; the slight disruption releasing your smell. A hard lump formed in his throat as tears pooled behind his lash line. He sat up quickly, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his palms. With a heavy sigh, he stood up and grabbed a pair of pajama pants, making his way to the door. If he had any hope of being able to fall asleep again, he’d need some help drowning his thoughts.

He quietly made his way to the kitchen, fully intending to turn up the bottle of Demonus Lucifer kept hidden in the dark recesses of the pantry. As soon as he stepped foot in the kitchen, he froze.

It had only been seven days, but it felt like a lifetime. Seven days without being in the same room as you for more than just a moment before you ran in any direction as long as it was away from him. Not that he could blame you. He wanted to run away from himself..

Which is exactly what he was determined to do with Demonus, had he not stumbled upon you sitting with your back to the fridge, crying into a half eaten container of chocolate frosting. 

Immediately alerted to the figure in the doorway, you jumped up, attempting to wipe at your face as you muttered an apology, but paled when you saw who it was that disturbed you. You slowly sat the container on the counter, keeping your eyes fixed on the man in the doorway.

What was left of his heart, shattered at the sight of you. Your eyes were puffy and red with dark bags underneath them. The same eyes that looked at him with such deep burning love, were now dull and lifeless as you stared at him. You were visibly broken, anyone could see that. He was the reason you looked like this; like an abandoned puppy, beaten and abused. He hated it. Hated himself.

He moved out of the doorway and into the kitchen, freeing up the only way out in case you wanted to run. Not that he blamed you. If he could run from himself right now, he would.

But, now you were in the same room together for the first time in a week and he didn’t want to waste the opportunity. Maybe if he just started talking you would listen, even just a tiny bit to what he had to say.

“MC, I-”

“Don’t.” Your voice trembled slightly as your eyes began to sting.

“Please, just hear me-”

“And what are you going to say, hm? That you’re sorry? Sorry you did it, or sorry you got caught?” You hissed with tears in your eyes. Mammon slightly recoiled from the tone of your voice, a tone he’d never heard from you. You hated being this way; angry and bitter, wanting him to hurt like you did. It was surely petty, but you didn’t care.

“MC, listen, I swear I didn’t do anythin’, okay? I was still goin’ strong from an all night drinkin’ binge, an-and she just showed up in the VIP lounge. I told her to fuck off but she didn’t listen. I was already pretty out of it when things started happenin’ and I thought it was you. I thought it was you the whole time! I-I didn’t know it was her till I heard you and Asmo and realized what happened! She took advantage of the situation, of me bein’ way too drunk..” He was talking so fast, trying to get out the words he’d been wanting to say to you. 

Narrowing your eyes, you stared at him suspiciously.

What if he really didn’t do it on purpose..? If all of that is true, it would explain why he looks so rough..

Having barely stayed in the same room as one another for several days and not wanting to look at him, wanting to remain strong and now cry in front of everyone, you hadn’t noticed but how awful he looked as well. He clearly hasn’t been sleeping well, judging by the giant bags under his eyes. Not to mention that he is also currently awake at 4am, looking just as much like shit as you did.

“Then why is it all over Devilgram that it’s been an ongoing fling?” You questioned, a few tears escaping.

“I would never do anythin’ like that, MC! She’s just jealous or somethin’, I don’t know what her issue is.. But, I-I love ya, more than anythin’ in the three realms. Even Goldie!”

You could feel yourself caving in with every word he said. It made sense, judging by how she’d randomly confronted you after school that day after whispering about you with her friends all day, it seemed like jealousy could be plausible. But what proof did you have? It was his word against what you saw with your own eyes. Not to mention everything on Devilgram.

“Funny, from where I was standing, it sure looked like I was the last thing on your mind.” You hissed, causing him to flinch; but he wasn’t backing down yet.

“Just let me prove it to ya, okay? I-I’ll do whatever I gotta do. Please, MC?” His deep, sapphire blue eyes bore deep into yours; the sorrow, the agony they held was immense. The crack in your armour deepened.

He could see that you were wavering, but that you were hesitant, scared to believe him; to trust him. He couldn’t blame you. If he were on the other side of all this, he wouldn’t believe his words either. He didn’t expect you to just hear him out then jump into his arms and ride away into the sunset. He knew better. He knew he’d have to prove it. He was more than willing to do whatever it would take for you to trust him again, to believe that he’d never hurt you intentionally.

He took a step toward you, careful and anxious, as if you would bolt if he moved too suddenly. He reached out for your hand slowly, reluctant at first but upon realizing how much you’d missed his touch as his warm, much larger hand enveloped yours, you caved so easily.

He squeezed your hand lightly, looking down at your entwined fingers, gently rubbing the side of your thumb. You felt something wet hit your hand a couple times, realizing quickly that they were tears, you attempted to swallow the lump in your throat that was quickly forming.

“Please? I’m miserable without ya..” He asked, voice cracking slightly.

Even after everything that’s happened the last week, you couldn’t stand to see him in such pain; miserable and broken. Just like you.

Sure, he was always stand-offish about his feelings and the like before you got together, but once it was all official, that was it; the walls came down. There had never been a single time that he lied to you or went behind your back with anything. He lasted exactly twelve minutes after buying your birthday present before he couldn’t take it anymore and spilled the beans. 

He’s always a goofball, sometimes has bad timing and isn’t always the best with words, but he’s never given you a reason not to trust him before; he’s never been anything but an amazing boyfriend that genuinely tries his hardest to make you happy.

“One.” You whispered, barely audible. His head snapped up, deep blue eyes scanning yours. You closed your eyes, taking a deep, yet shaky breath.

“One chance. That’s it.”

No sooner than the words left your lips, Mammon was pulling you flush to his chest in a bone crushing hug. Had you not been utterly craving his touch, to be held by him, you would’ve pushed him away. That’s what you told yourself anyway.

“I won’t make ya regret it, MC.” He earnestly swore, squeezing you gently.

For the sake of your heart, you hoped he was right.

~ taglist ~

@ithinkimdekubutreallyimdenki

@maybe-nott

@bandaged-despair

@bokuto7stan

@aliackerman

- part three coming soon -

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me mammon #mammon x mc #mammon x reader #mammon x you #mammon x gn!mc #gender neutral #gn #gender neutral mc #obey me angst #mammon angst #trigger warning #cheating

[anotheranimestan]

hi! I just read “all bark no bite” and omg it was so good!! looking forward to more of your writing and possible a part 2 if you get the chance!

Thank you!!!!!😃🧡 Your wish is my command!

All Bark No Bite (pt. 2)

Bakugo angst + sexual tensionnnn

Read part 1 here

wc: 3k

I hope this is as fun for you to read as it is for me to write! Also why is he 👇 this fineee for no reason.

The next morning, you woke up trying to convince yourself it was all a dream...or a nightmare. But the way you could still feel the softness of his fingers around your neck completely contradicted your wishes. You also had to keep wiping little smiles off your face throughout your entire morning routine. You tried to combat them by listing all the things you hated about Bakugo but it was helpless. Every train of thought ended with the shape of his lips and how nicely they molded with yours.

You and Mina walked to class together and you swore she’d developed a mind reading quirk. You felt her eyes on you like a blazing sun. Although this was really all in your head. She only asked “are you okay?” because you kept looking at her like you’d committed a hate crime.

You and Bakugo didn’t look at each other once during class. No leg shaking, pen stealing or insults. Not even a well timed scoff when you were called on to answer a question. You tried your best to clear your mind and forget everything that had occurred in that hall last night. After a while of this torture you even were having a little bit of success.

But of course your peace was ruined as you walked to lunch. He couldn’t let you have anything. And of course he wasn’t going to leave you alone.

“Hey Little Bite, I hear we get to pick our groups for combat training today. All Might is going to make me a team captain, obviously. So if you want to be on my team let me know. I mean I assume you don’t wanna lose. You just gotta ask me nicely.” His usual cocky tone crept under your skin.

You desperately tried to ignore him as he followed you. Each footstep he started gaining on you being more annoying than the last. But what really did it was the pencil he threw at your head.

“Please, actively do not pick me.”

He ignored your objection and continued on his line of bullshit.

“I suppose I could take you. Your quirk would be useless, I’m all the attack power we’d need to win but I could use you as a decoy or something.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t want to be on a team with you, moron. Your pea brain doesn’t know how to do anything but blow shit up. You’re like an explosive cave man. Besides being too close to you for too long makes me wanna vomit.”

He cackled. You knew exactly what he was thinking and immediately regretted your words.

“That’s weird—“

You picked up a rock from the ground and threw it at his head. But he just caught it and made it explode with a smug look on his face.

“Ugh. I cannot stand you.” You groaned.

“You sure about that?” He said with a suggestive eyebrow.

He was so hot....it made you want to punch him in the throat. Without thinking you shrugged off your backpack and swung it at his face. His reflexes bested you again though and he caught the bag, yanking it from you. The force was harder than you expected, it sent you flying into his chest. You both tumbled to the ground and landed shoulder to shoulder. Your skull hit a small rock with a wack. Rubbing the back of your head, shooting pain surfaced.

“Ow!! That fucking hurt dumbass!”

“Sor—“

You swung your arm, aiming to kill, and hit him in the stomach.

It must have really knocked the wind out of him because he made a loud grunting noise that hinted at his surprise. It wasn’t often people got to land a punch on Katsuki Bakugo. King Explosion Murder.

“Do that shit again Little Bite! You’ll regret it!” He grabbed your wrist, attempting to clear a way to get you back. You both started wresting trying to punch each other in the gut. Literally rolling around in the grass in a red hot death match of who could out curse the other.

“Omg, are you guys about to kiss right now?” Mina teased from out of absolutely nowhere, scaring the shit out of you.

You both froze solid as the blood drained from your face. She knew about last night? How did she find out?!

“You told her!?” Bakugo’s entire face was contorting through a whole range of emotions. Shock, horror, embarrassment, accusation, cheekiness, embarrassment again.

“What!?” You panicked. “No! I didn’t!” You swear you didn’t. You replayed your whole morning in your head just to double check.

You turned to your pink friend. Her eyes were wide and her mouth fell open. You watched the gears turn in her head as she realized she’d stumbled upon a miraculously juicy discovery.

“OH. MY. GOD!!! No freaking way!!” She squealed unable to contain herself.

She started blabbering as she attempted to cope with this information. She had absolutely no idea what to do with it.

Your stomach fell as you realized this fatal error. Wait....this wasn’t your error. You pushed him off you and you both scrambled to your feet.

“This is your fault! Why’d you say that!” You shoved a finger in Bakugo’s chest. Which actually hurt because....he’s solid.

“Don’t yell at me!” He yelled back at an even louder volume.

Mina started running around in little circles. “They kissed!!!” She then abruptly stopped in her tracks and you watched a lightbulb flicker on.

No.....

“KIRISHIMA!!!! KAMINARI!!!” She screamed as she ran toward the cafeteria.

“MINA DONT YOU FUCKING DA—“ Bakugo exploded into a full sprint to chase her down. But she was like a rocket.

You chased after them desperately trying to reconcile all this is your mind. But it was no use, your brain was melting. Everyone was about to find out. The relentless jokes...they would never end. You could die right here.

Both of them ran so fast you fell horribly behind. By the time you rounded the corner and caught up to them a whole event had already taken place.

Bakugo was screaming on the top of his lungs. You could practically see the steam coming off the top of his head.

Kaminari was standing there in his stupid form with a half torn shirt. Jesus, what did Bakugo do to him?

Mina and Kirishima were laying on the ground, their face covered in tears. They were laughing so hard no sounds were even coming out.

“Oh my god,” Mina squeaked out between gasps for air, “Bakugo has a crush.”

“It’s so adorable!” Kirishima said wiping the tears from his eyes as he attempted to stop laughing. With no success, they both bursted again after seeing Bakugo slamming his fists into the grass. The teasing was making him want to rip his eyes out. He couldn’t stand it.

“Shut up Kirishima!!!” He jumped on top of his friend and started repeatedly banging his head into the ground. Of course this did absolutely nothing to the hard head. It just made him laugh even more.

Poor Denki just stood there drooling with a little smile on his face and giggling.

You were frozen. Stunned. It was like watching a comedy movie in which you were the punchline.

But all the laughs fell a silent as a furious voice cut through the air.

“What is this.” It wasn’t a question. Mr. Aizawa looked like he hadn’t slept in three days and this used up his last bit of patience.

“Bakugo. Get off him immediately.” He growled.

You knew how this looked. Bakugo was attacking Kirishima after successfully making Kaminari fry his own brain. Your friends’ laughter wasn’t enough to hide Bakugo’s apparent violence even if it was over something as stupid as a kiss. Mr. Aizawa couldn’t possibly know that.

“I overlooked your behavior yesterday, picking a fight with Miss. y/n. But now attacking your other classmates as well? This is violent behavior is unacceptable.”

“Mr. Aizawa—“ Kirishima tried to defend his friend but it was no use.

“Not another word.” Your teacher was glaring at Bakugo with laser beams.

The hot head just stood there in silence with a scowl on his face and two tightly clenched fists. He was really just going to take the heat for everyone? No arguments?

“I’m putting you on house arrest for the rest of the day. No more classes and no combat training.” You watched the dagger go through Bakugo’s chest. Today was going to be offensive training with All Might. You knew he was looking forward to it. Guilt punched your core.

“Mr. Aizawa wait. I’m the one who picked a fight with him yesterday. I challenged him. He shouldn’t get into trouble because of me.” You shuffled toward him timidly. He was scary when he was like this.

Everyone looked at you in surprise. They all knew it was true, that you’d egged him on. And he wouldn’t be raging right now if you hadn’t kissed, so today was also partially your fault. But they were truly surprised because you normally would revel in Bakugo getting scolded. But you weren’t fucking evil. And this wasn’t Bakugo’s fault at all...although he really needed to get his fucking temper in check. Idiot.

“Is that true?” Aizawa asked Bakugo.

The hot head took a deep breath. “Does that sound like me at all? I’d never give into her weak attempts at baiting me. I fought her because I wanted to.”

Your eyes popped out at his words. He lied. Why the fuck would he do that?

Mr. Aizawa escorted Bakugo to the dorms, lecturing the entire way.

“This sucks.” Kirishima said with a frown.

“I know. I feel so bad!” Mina cried sadly.

You had no words. The four of you walked to lunch with drooping heads. You held Kaminari’s hand the whole way until his brain recharged.

Recalling you’d left your backpack in the quad you ran back to get it. Upon arrival you realized Bakugo’s backpack was also there. He wouldn’t even have his stuff with him to finish homework or study during house arrest. You groaned. This guilt was horrible. It ate at you for rest of the day. The rest of your friends didn’t feel any better. And combat training wasn’t the same for you without that familiar sound of explosions going off in the background. It actually made the class feel kind of empty.

As usual at the end of the day you sat in the common area with the rest of the girls.

“So...is it true y/n?” Ochaco poked hesitantly.

You glared at Mina. Loose lips as usual.

“Sorry y/n. I talk when I’m stressed.” Mina cried only kind of regretful.

You sighed. You didn’t have the heart to actually be upset with her. You were the villain here. Getting Bakugo into so much trouble.

“Yea.” You huffed out. Talking about it made you cringe. It was like admitting your sworn rival had defeated you somehow. Even if you sort of didn’t mind the way he did it...

“What was it like?” Mina asked excited for the details.

“Is he a good kisser?” Ochaco added.

Your mind fell into a fog as you replayed the kiss again. Your skin went electric as you remembered the feel of his hands on your waist and those noises he was making. His lips wrapped around yours....

“Oh my god...Ochaco shes in love!” Mina concluded from you zoning out for what ended being like 15 seconds of you staring into space with a little smile on your face. She was practically singing.

“I am not!” You yelled flustered.

“Why are so many people yelling today?” Kirishima chuckled as he rounded the corner to join the couch.

“So is he mad?” Mina’s voice had changed into the sad one from earlier.

“I don’t know. Every time I knock he just tells me to go away. But that’s not that different from normal honestly.” He smiled. Their friendship was so odd.

Suddenly his backpack flashed through your mind. It was sitting in your room.

You got up to leave. You tried to be sneaky about it as they discussed how to cheer the victim up. But to no avail, they’d never let you sneak off again.

“Where you going huh?” Mina’s voice was painfully suggestive.

“To my room!”

“Uh huh, we’ve heard that one before.”

You stuck your tongue at her.

Kirishima twisted to face you over the back of the couch. “So if I ask Bakugo tomorrow if he saw you tonight he’s gonna say no, right?” Who knew he could be this ruthless. No mercy.

You pinched the bridge of your nose in frustration. You’d been cornered.

“Look. He left his backpack earlier and I’m just going to give it to him! Jeez do you want to do it or something Kiri?” You were seething.

“Nahh, you should do it. He’ll just yell at me to go away again.” He winked. It made you cringe again.

You could peel your skin off from this teasing. But you know someone who hated it even more. You knew that’s why he wouldn’t let Kirishima into his room.

You ran off before they could crack any more jokes.

On your way to the elevators you heard a creepy cackle come from somewhere. You spun around, alarmed, as a “what the fuck” escaped your lips. Your eyes landed on one eyeball peeking through the crack of a doorway.

“Can I get a kiss too?” The voice was wet with drool and lust. “Just one?”

“I will kick your face in Mineta.”

The door quickly shut. Did Mina tell the fucking whole class!?

With more haste now you stormed to your room to get the stupid backpack that was causing you so many problems and made your way to your other problem’s door.

Before you knocked you realized your hands were shaking. Nervous? Seriously, over this moron? You shook it off with resolve and knocked.

“Fuck off Denki, for the hundredth fucking time I’m busy!” A gruff voice yelled from behind the door.

“Oh please, busy with what?” You retorted reflexively. Earlier you had decided you were going to try to be nicer but that sentiment wore off as soon as you heard his annoying voice.

The door swung open.

“What do you want?” He said with a raised eyebrow.

Your mind went blank. He was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. Of course it made his biceps look better than normal. He was wearing a black t-shirt that made his skin look perfectly tanned and was snug in all the right places. And why did he always smell so good damn. Today it was like vanilla and woodsy aftershave.

Stop staring. Stop staring. Speak bitch.

“Here’s your backpack. You should keep better track of it. I had to carry it around all day. That’s annoying.” You tossed it at him.

Why couldn’t you say anything nice? He took the heat for everyone. It’s like your mouth was rebelling against you.

He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Whatever. Maybe you should work out more weakling.”

Panic panged in your chest as he started to shut the door in your face.

“Wait—“ you stopped it with your hand.

He paused. Mild interest dawned his brow.

“Why—why did you lie?”

“What?”

“To Mr. Aizawa. You could have told him it was my fault.”

“What do you care?” He pressed. His tone always managed to infuriate you.

You spun on your heels and started to walk away. “Nevermind.”

“Because I felt bad. You hurt your stupid head.”

You’d forgotten about that with all the guilt that had been overrunning your head. It didn’t even hurt anymore. You were surprised he’d even noticed.

“Oh.”

“But obviously you’re fine now so I guess it was all for nothing.” He added quickly trying to sound indignant.

The guilt punched you again. Especially now that you were face to face with him. He didn’t even look mad. He actually looked calm. And he looked good. You tried to deny your attraction to him. But flashes of his hand on your waist started invading your mind again. You could feel him wrapped around your neck. The way he was gentle and rough at the same time.

“Instead of just standing there you could actually make yourself useful. You owe me anyways.”

You snapped out of it trying not to look flustered. You shot him a confused and slightly offended look.

“Fill me in on what I missed in class...” he explained. He wouldn’t make direct eye contact though.

“Are you saying you need my help?” You had to do it. You couldn’t not take an opportunity.

“Tch. Obviously no—“

“Let’s do it. Move.” You said as you pushed past him into his room. Your hand made full contact with his abs and you felt that heat again.

He shut the door behind you and your heart started off like a race horse as you heard him lock it.

You suspected it was to lock the other boys out. God forbid they catch you in his room after all this.

Shit....you were in his room. Alone. With your hot head. The day after he kissed you. The evening after he took all the fury of Mr. Aizawa for you and moments after he asked you to help him study even though he gets way better grades than you.

He cleared a spot for you to sit on his bed and then leaned back into his chair with his hands locked behind his head. His flexing muscles were distracting you again.

“You better actually remember everything.”

“Shut up.” You rolled your eyes at him.

His words were supposed to rile you but the way he looked at you, like he was secretly loving that you were here was making your stomach flutter. You could feel your face red and you prayed he wouldn’t notice. At this rate you were going to throw yourself at him before he had the chance to kiss you again. As long as you two didn’t start fighting again first.....

~~

💥 YES there will be a pt 3!!! 💥

It’s going to be called “sTuDyiNg” HAHA (hint: Bakugo doesn’t actually wanna study “dumbass”)

Update: Pt.3 is up now!! Read it here

#fanfic #bakugo angst #mha bakugou #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo #bhna imagine #katsuki bakugou #mha angst #my hero headcanons #mha fanfiction #mha fluff #katsuki bakugo x y/n #katsuki bakugo angst #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #bakugou headcanons #bakugou smut #katsuki bakugo imagine #Kirishima #mina ashido #denki kaminari #ochaco uraraka #mr aizawa

[inevitably-johnlocked]

A Little LOKI Theory Post

*SPOILERS FOR LOKI E1-3 BELOW CUT*

I am loathe to admit that I love the new LOKI TV series, mainly because of the Mobius/Loki dynamic, the interesting sci-fi plot, and just... I so far surprisingly like every episode. This was the show I had such low expectations for, because I didn’t really like LOKI – I felt he was the Moriarty of the MCU, overused when they didn’t need him, and making me annoyed by an actor I love.

EXCEPT I’m also a sucker for character-driven, psychoanalysis stories, like all these D+ Marvel shows are, and it’s leaving me super shocked about me liking characters I didn’t before. I’m fully invested in all these characters now.

I think the only reasom I really wanted to see this show for was because it ties directly into the next Dr. Strange movie, so YEAH, I’m in love multiverse and time travel things, so it was inevitable that I would enjoy this show, I think.

AND of course, I’ve theories and speculations because there’s a lot to work with, and I LOVE stories like these, so I decided I would take some time out and stretch out my meta-writing grey cells. And I wanted somewhere to have my theories/ideas written out before they come to fruition, because DAMNIT I have headcanons and hopes and dreams.

So here we go, spoilers below cut. Please note I know nothing about the comics aside from what other theorists and reviewers have mentioned:

The TVA are “the bad guys” but I think it goes deeper than that... Like the whole Timekeeper thing is really sus. I think it’s only one Timekeeper, who is Kang the Conqueror, who maintains the Sacred Timeline to ensure that he stays in power to PREVENT the Multiverse War which I think he knows happened to stop him. I also think Renslayer is behind all of this suspicious thing; I learned that in the comics Renslayer is a love interest for Kang, so like........... SUS.

AND I think Multiverse War they talked about in the beginning of the show IS the Multiverse War they’re ABOUT TO HAVE. This is a show about non-linear time, and there’s hints about multiverses in the next Spiderman, and Dr Strange is LITERALLY called “Multiverse of Madness”. Wild Theory: Maybe Doctor Strange IS one of the Time Keepers following the Multiverse War.

Loki initially wants to learn the enchanting that Sylvie does for his own selfish gain, and I think he was lying about breaking the TempPad so he would force her to open up. HOWEVER, I think he had a sudden change of heart after learning about the TVA’s Variant Staff; we already see him sort of fond of both Mobius and remembers Casey’s name, so I feel like that he will end up using this knowledge he gained very differently.

Further on this point, they established in Ep 3 that TVA agents / staff need actual real memories to “manipulate” them. So, I think Loki will use this power he learned from Sylvie (I mean, she explained to him how to do it, and this show is really good at using the “Chekov’s guns” given to us) to bring Mobius to “his side”, and TOGETHER they take down the TVA and make it what it should be. Mobius is very dedicated to the TVA, so I really do forsee that it will be Loki “freeing” Mobius as the catalyst to swaying to siding with Loki until the end. He’s a good man with a big heart for humanity, so I think he will totally side with freeing everyone else.

On that note, I think the reason Mobius is fascinated with the nineties is because he’s a variant jetskiier pulled from the nineties. I suspect in his original timeline he probably had a jetski accident and died, but in the Variant timeline, he survived, and out of pity I think Renslayer “saved” him and recruited him. The TVA wiped his memories after he couldn’t cope with the fact that he was SUPPOSED to die.

ALSO still on Mobius, I think every time he keeps questioning too much, he gets his memory wiped, which would explain why he never remembers leaving the cup stains on Renslayer’s table.

I think there’s more to Miss Minutes than meets the eye. Another theory I had was that she was similar to VIKI in iRobot, essentially running the company to her programmed “laws” after the TimeKeepers passed on. So like there’s no TimeKeepers at all, but there was at one time, and Miss Minutes was left to her own devices.

Another theory similar to this, is the Doctor Who episode, The Long Game, where everyone wants to be promoted to “Floor 500″ because it’s rumoured to be a paradise and is the top floor no one has ever returned from; It turns out it’s run by an alien that feeds on the human or something similar, and the people who went to the top floor ended up frozen husks of who they were. Not saying it’s this exact thing, but more the idea that everyone thinks what’s upstairs is a magical wonderful benevolent corporation looking out for what’s best for everyone, but instead it’s one evil thing doing stuff for their own purpose. Eh.

Another rogue theory: Mobius IS a Loki variant, which is why he’s obsessed with Loki himself, knows Loki better than Loki knows himself, and either knows and omitted it, or DOESN’T know but naturally is intrigued by the Loki Variant and him always finding out the truth is WHY his memory keeps getting wiped, and why everyone is always squeamish about having a Loki around. Mobius mentioned that Loki is the one Variant they have stopped more Lokis than any other Variant....

On that thought: IF Lokis are the most common Variant they capture, I think a LOT of the TVA are Loki Variants, trapped in the forms they were presenting as when they were brought in, and because magic doesn’t work in the TVA, they CAN’T turn off the glamour, had their memories wiped, and in turn could now be Codenamed Casey, or Mobius, or B15........ An abstract theory, but I think it’s interesting.

And another, since I learned that it is in the comics: Mobius is a clone drone. This one saddens me and I really hope he’s not. Because I love Mobius.

I think Sylvie was a Variant who worked for the TVA, but somehow had an awakening and wants to free everyone else... the only thing against this theory is her seeming surprised that her magic stopped working when she arrived at the TVA. If she was an agent, she would know that magic doesn’t work within the TVA.

And I think this series will inevitably – if the rumours of a Season 2 are true – have the Mobius / Loki dynamic solving Time Crimes... a.... Holmes and Watson if you will. :D HAHHA.

So yeah. This list will change obviously for the next 3 weeks, and I had a lot of fun with this so I will probably keep it up.

Some things I hope happen by the end:

A giant “probably not going to happen because this is Disney”: I hope they pay-off the “bisexual” confirmation by the end of this... highkey with Mobius (damn it I ship them okay), but lowkey just even a passing remark about anyone LOL. I really ship Lokius, okay. I need this dynamic in the MCU

PLEASE DON’T KILL CASEY, we love Casey. #FREECASEY

I’ll be really honest here, I will effing GROAN and be a not-happy Steph if they do the ship that I think they’re gonna do: Sylvie x Loki. Which is weird to me that Disney would be okay with self-love, but the OBVIOUS initial dynamic of Loki x Mobius is too much, “look we gave you bisexual Loki, aren’t you happy enough??” Just. I dunno. It’s weird / a pet peeve of mine that a lot of online reviewers are bitching about “woke” Disney the one time they ACTUALLY FINALLY let a title character say they’re queer, but are all “UWU SYLVIE AND LOKI ARE GONNA GET TOGETHER BECAUSE LOKI LOVES HIMSELF UWU”. Even though Loki spent legit more screen time with Mobius, and literally did everything he told Sylvie that he wouldn’t do around people he doesn’t trust around Mobius ALREADY?? It’s like they already forgot about the first two eps. LEGIT the whole dagger=love metaphor LITERALLY happened in the previous two episodes, but alright chiefs. Anyway. Sorry, it’s stupid to be bothered by it. 

We’re gonna get that heart wrench moment that the other two shows had, and I TRULY BELIEVE it’s gonna be between Loki and Mobius when Loki tells / shows Mobius the truth. LOOK I JUST WANT MORE OF THEM OKAY. And I need my heart ripping moment in this show within the next two eps LOL. We got one in WandaVision. We got one in FATWS. GIVE ME ONE IN LOKI. MAKE ME LIKE LOKI.

Anyway, so that’s my rambling. Thanks for taking time out to read all this. I miss theorizing, and this show is perfect for me to do it. I’m not AS good at these shows as I was with Sherlock, but it’s still fun, because it’s new and my brain is full of headcanons and idea things. I’ll write again after Ep 4, I think. <3 Thank you lovelies for letting me do this!

#my ramblings #my meta #my theories #loki spoilers #loki #loki meta #not sherlock #i just really miss writing meta #and i now ship lokius #so give me lokius fics please #long post under cut

[hermannsthumb]

As per our convo, Newt getting set up with Hermann via Hermann’s father’s binder full of pre-approved suitors for his son...

(from @k-sci-janitor 👀) easily one of our funniest concepts yet. I was going to end on newt coming over for dinner scenario but I like the ominous open ending. I'm not actually sure when kaiju attacks fall in the PR timeline so excuse my handwaveyness, LOL

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

Hermann’s relationship with his father is what one would call strenuous at best, but—Hermann must admit, to the man’s credit, and in spite of his many flaws—he took the news of Hermann’s sexual orientation as unflinchingly as if Hermann had told him the day’s weather. It was a bit annoying, in fact. Hermann had agonized over the proper way to breach the subject for months, certain it spoke to some sort of personal ruin (whether ostracization from the Gottliebs or being forbade following through on any attraction he may feel whilst still living under the family roof, he wasn't sure), before finally simply announcing it one day at the breakfast table on a whim.

It had been a long-standing tradition that Hermann’s parents compile a binder—effectively of dossiers—on all the most eligible bachelors (for their daughter) and bachelorettes (for their sons) to aid in the choice of the latest Gottlieb mate. It was easiest this way, or so Hermann and his siblings were told. Parental approval was already secured. The histories of each were already secured, which bypassed any nasty shocks that might emerge in the courtship stage. Most of them were children of his father's colleagues or bright minds in their own rights: surgeons, and dentists, and mathematicians. Poets were strictly forbidden.

The occasion of Hermann’s breakfast table announcement had also been the day Hermann’s father presented him with his very first binder of prospective mates—a few days after his eighteenth birthday, and shortly before he was to go off to begin work on his PhD. His father had slid him a hand-written binder of names, no more than a dozen, and all with accompanying photographs. “All are accomplished young women,” he assured Hermann. “We can arrange any meetings of your choice over your winter holidays.”

Hermann glared down at the row of frozen smiles. He stabbed his fork into his cooked tomato wedge. “I don’t want to marry any of these women,” he said, and turned his glare on his father. He still had a rebellious streak in him at that point, something nurtured by a charismatic young man he used to trail after in boarding school, who pierced Hermann’s ear with a sewing needle in the boys’ toilets and listened to songs about setting things on fire. In late this streak had manifested itself in Hermann in nicking packets of cigarettes from his father’s study, one of which was in his pocket now. The weight of it made Hermann feel bolder. “I don’t want to marry any woman,” he continued. “I like men.”

The binder was drawn away in silence, and Hermann was free to eat his toast and tomatoes. The next morning a binder of young men was in its place.

(In a way the acceptance infuriated Hermann. It meant he could not blame his father’s obvious dislike for him on an unfounded, homophobic prejudice; rather, it was a result of Hermann’s own personal failings.)

The binder was placed at Hermann’s breakfast plate every day until he left for his studies. It was placed at his plate when he returned from them five years later. Not even the emergence of the kaiju from the bottom of the ocean shortly after Hermann turned twenty-four dampened his father’s hopes, nor turning all their scientific efforts towards the new jaeger program: some names were removed from the binder (the reasoning Hermann shudders to think at), more still were added, though Hermann is expected only to consider it once a week now on account of his busy schedule. This was one of such days.

“Your brother is very happy with his wife,” Hermann’s father reminds him. “She was one of my first suggestions for him, in fact.”

Hermann is not fond of his sister-in-law. Too rude—too cold. Though perhaps that makes her perfect for Hermann’s brother. “Haven’t we got bigger things to worry about these days than whether or not I’m going to marry?” Hermann says. He adds milk to his tea. “I’m sure they’re all, er, marvelous selections, only—”

“Your sister, too, with her husband,” father says.

Hermann sighs. He hasn’t got much of the rebellious streak he used to in him anymore—too stressed. Not fancying a fight before they’ve even begun today’s coding work, he picks up the binder and begins flipping through it. Sons of engineers working on the jaeger program with them, prominent young chemists, many of whom Hermann has been presented with since he was eighteen. Plenty of them are even handsome. Half of Hermann wonders if he should just pick the least-unappealing one of the bunch and be done with it already. He turns the page over and freezes. “Oh,” he says. “This one is—new.”

“Hm?” father says.

Hermann holds up the binder, tapping at a new entry. “Newton Geiszler.”

“Dr. Geiszler,” father says, nodding. “A child prodigy from Berlin—he’s made tremendous strides in kaiju science in such little time. And,” he adds, “three PhDs. Two of them before he even turned twenty.” The unspoken implication was that Dr. Geiszler far surpassed Hermann in intelligence and Hermann should feel ashamed for not skipping as many grades as Dr. Geiszler.

Hermann feels he ought to resent Dr. Geiszler for it, but he's finding it difficult to summon up any animosity towards him. It's likely because Hermann finds Dr. Geiszler to be strikingly handsome in his photograph: cheeks which haven’t quite lost their baby fat (giving him the appearance of being a scruffy hamster), large, thick glasses, tousled hair, an easy grin. Three PhDs, and German at that. And a child prodigy? “I’m surprised you haven’t mentioned him to me before,” Hermann says. He seems precisely the sort father would. Geiszler’s photograph is black-and-white and a bit grainy, but Hermann swears he could make out the lightest bit of freckles across his cheeks.

“I’d not heard of him until he published an article last week on kaiju biology,” father says. “Besides—he’s moved to America.”

Geiszler has three piercings up the side of his left ear. “I am going to write to him,” Hermann declares.

Father nods, and picks up his newspaper, clearly already disinterested. They speak no more of it that day.

It is not hard to find Dr. Geiszler online (his name is not the most common, and his field of study certainly isn’t), nor is it hard to match his photograph to his faculty page on MIT’s website. From there, Hermann retrieves Dr. Geiszler’s email address. He takes the evening to read over Geiszler’s publications spanning back to 2003 before he gathers up the courage to type out an actual email.

Dear Dr. Geiszler,

You do not know me, but I have recently been made acquaintance with your work and find it—Hermann pauses—scintillating. My father and I are—Hermann backspaces this—I am currently working on the development of the jaeger program…

There’s a response waiting for him the next morning. It’s as enthusiastic as it is brief. Dr. Gottlieb- That’s so awesome!! Believe it or not I’ve been following your work too. I have a million questions for you about the jaegers. If it’s classified info I promise I won’t tell. -Newt

It makes Hermann smile like nothing ever has before.

Hermann’s correspondence with Dr. Geiszler does not transgress beyond the professional until the following January. By that time, Hermann and his father have successfully completed the coding for their first jaeger prototype, and Hermann has been offered his fair share of tenured university positions to pick from as he likes. He finds himself oddly disappointed that none of them are in America with Dr. Geiezler. This, which leads to the realization that he’s grown rather fond of Dr. Geiszler, is perhaps what drives Hermann to uncharacteristic sentimental extremes on January 19th: he orders Dr. Geiszler a birthday present. The first email Dr. Geiszler sends him after that addresses him as Hermann. The first email Hermann sends Dr. Geiszler after that addresses him as Newton. Things move rapidly after that.

“Are you still writing to that young biologist?” Hermann’s father asks him in March. Hermann has spent the last two months devouring every bit of information Newton has seen fit to divulge about his personal life: his dexterity with no less than three different instruments, his favorite loud monster movies, how he’d love to get a kaiju tattooed on him one day. Hermann suspects he might be falling in love with Newton. In hardly five months! These are war times, Hermann supposes, so it would make sense. People are meant to do such extreme things.

“I am,” Hermann says.

“I’ve asked around about him,” Hermann’s father says. His expression is stern—unimpressed. “About his character. I’m not sure it’s wise to continue your correspondence.”

The reasons are this. Dr. Geiszler’s methods are unorthodox. Dr. Geiszler is loud and uncouth, and has little respect for his intellectual superiors. Dr. Geiszler was thrown out of a convention once for storming up on stage and stealing a microphone from an engineer to shout about the destruction coral reefs. Dr. Geiszler was in a distasteful band for several years. Dr. Geiszler was once arrested for egging a politician’s house. Dr. Geiszler has gone on record as describing the kaiju as “kinda cool”. Almost none of this is news to Hermann; in fact, that which is only causes Hermann’s affection for Newton to grow. “I will consider your advice,” Hermann says, knowing he won’t. Besides, it's not as if his father really has Hermann's interests at heart—Hermann knows he merely wishes to preempt any scandal Newton Geiszler could possibly bring upon the Gottlieb name.

In April Newton goes on television and declares that he’s sure the kaiju are extraterrestrial in origin, on account of their great size and his brief examination of a sample from the second kaiju to make landfall. He’s laughed off by his older peers before he can get another word out. The email he writes to Hermann afterwards is furious, capslock-heavy, and expresses that Hermann is the only one who takes him seriously in the whole world. It leaves Hermann certain that he is in love with Newton.

“Dr. Geiszler was interviewed on some American television program,” Hermann’s father says a few days later.

“I know,” Hermann says, proudly. Newton was on television. “I watched it.”

“He made some extraordinary claims,” Hermann’s father says.

But Hermann is thinking only of the outfit Newton wore (skinny jeans and an oversized leather jacket, so out of place compared to the suited other scientists sitting around him), the shade of his eyes (hazel), his short stature (hardly taller than Hermann), and the cadence of his voice (high, but not unappealing). He’d been so confident, and carried himself with a self-assurance that was foreign to Hermann. It was marvelously attractive. “I’m sure they're correct,” Hermann says. "Every single one. Newton is a terribly brilliant scientist." All bold claims are met with derision at first, are they not?

Newton’s theory is proven correct after the next kaiju attack, when experts other than him get their hands on kaiju samples and validate his claims. The general consensus after that is that the kaiju are not of this world. And Newton was the first to propose the theory! Hermann sends Newton an email full of congratulations, and Newton responds with a heart emoticon in his sign-off. Newton isn't just a brilliant scientist. “Newton is a genius,” Hermann tells his father, dreamily.

The binder reappears on Hermann’s work desk a few months later, Newton’s page torn conspicuously from it. Hermann tips the whole thing straight into his trash can. He has more important things to worry about—arranging a meeting with Newton, perhaps. Hermann ought to have him over for dinner.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous #the new post editor is weird but I like that I can make things pink

[wizkiddx]

worst case scenario part 3

umm so, never ever intended it to be this long but here we are. again this is v dark so please please read the warning!! also [and obvs] this is very medically inaccurate and just a work of my head aha

[part 1] [part 2]

warning: mentions of death / hospital / mentions of childhood abandonment too- please don't read if this could affect you <3

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His heart was thundering in his chest, so much so it drowned out all other sounds making all the doctors words fade into the background. Conciously, he really was trying to listen to what the doctor was saying; consciously he knew she was trying to prepare him to see Y/n; consciously he knew she knew he wasn’t okay. But really? It didn’t matter, and as they drew closer to his fiancé Tom felt an urgent sense of relief purely know she was there. She was there and she wasn’t dead…yet. 

Only two people were allowed to go up, just because the nature of the ward - everything was meticulously controlled, including the comings and goings of visitors. If you’ve never been in an ICU it’s a pretty hard environment to describe. Really, it’s just another hospital ward, with capacity of about 20 beds. Each bed has much more equipment surrounding that the average and a nurse is stationed per patient, monitoring every possible variable that the machienes are measuring, so any trend (either positive or negative) can be identified at the earliest point. Though in everyones head, it seems as though ICU is a common place ending up for some unfortunate sod when something bad happens, it’s actually really rare for someone to be so ill and dependant on medicine to maintain normal body functioning. Only the most severe trauma, infection of the most dangerous microorganism, surgery of such high stakes normally make an appearance on the ward. And ,on average, between 8-20% patients that are admitted to an ICU never make it out. 

And those grim figures were unignorable to anyone. As soon as you walk through the doors, the atmosphere is intense and ineffable. It’s not spoken, but is so incredibly morbid it makes anyone shiver. 

Dom felt this, squeezing his sons shoulder as he followed Tom and the doctor, just a pace or so behind them. Having offered to go with Tom, whilst Harrison took Nikki to see the baby, Dom was now feeling just as clueless as his son did. Except he was actually listening to what the doctor was trying to warn them about and it scared him. The three, made it to the door and with a swipe of her ID card the doctor admitted the Holland men in. Gratefully, none of the staff took any notice of who was walking in, they were much too busy for that - Dom was incredibly relieved, had someone recognised Tom when he was in this state, god knows what would’ve happened.

The doctors pace was with purpose, perhaps so that the two couldn’t spend too long ogling the other patients in the beds - who all looked almost unhuman with the amount of tubes and wires coming out and into them. But then, she slowed up, halting infront of a bay about 5 or 6 down the ward. Spinning on her heel and with a subtle nod to momentarily release the nurse from her post at Y/n’s bedside, to give them a bit of privacy, she looked at the two men. 

“You can touch her, just be gentle with the wires.”

Shellshocked and terrified, Tom was frozen those 2 metres away from the bed barely able to see her face over all the equipment. Yet undoubtedly, it was his finance’s delicate visage lying on the white pillow, with a thick white mouthpiece and tube covering her mouth and stuffed into her nose. Not able to move, both Dom and Dr Goodwell sensitively waited - it was an adjustment to say the least, seeing someone you knew so well look so different. With quiet tears starting to roll down his eyes, Tom eventually started to inch toward the bedside, taking his time to try and absorb everything of this frankly ridiculous situation. He couldn’t get over how, even considering it all, above her nose it just looked like Y/n. Like she was asleep in their bed, eyes closed as if she had once again  fallen asleep infront of a random Netflix movie Tom had bugged her enough to watch in bed. And it was, ever so slightly comforting. That was still her, that was still the love of his life lying there. And she was still alive - which given the last few hours, was enough. 

Reaching the bedside, Tom naturally reached out and stroked the top of her head delicately, pulling into place a few rogue strands that seemed to have a mind of their own - she had always hated when her hair got frizzy. The picture had Tom’s mind casting back to their first holiday, a serene if quick few days in Fiji-  though Y/n didnt know this , that holiday had been one of the most important times in their relationship for Tom. Until then, given the nature of his job, the couple had only ever managed brief periods together. They spent time together as and when they could in between Tom’s busy schedule but it was never as long as they’d like. Somehow though, he’d managed to squeeze a few days away to surprise Y/n with the trip. 

It was everything he’d ever hoped it would be and more. In fact it was then Tom was oh so sure he would be spending the rest of his life with her. This thought crossed his mind on the last morning, when he had for once woken up before Y/n - her head mere cms away from his on the pillow. Just like now, her hair had been all over the place and her sparkling green eyes locked shut. Contrastingly though, in Fiji the sight had made him smile softly; now it just made him cry again. 

“Would you like a minute alone Mr Holland? We will just wait outside?” Not even turning round to properly respond to the doctor, Tom just nodded violently, not taking his eyes off his fiancé - waiting till he heard his Dad and the doctor leave the bay; then the curtains be completely drawn to a close, before he shakily cleared his throat to whisper.

“Hey darling… you um-you’ve scared me shitless today… and… and I’m supposed to be the dramatic one in the relationship.” Chuckling wetly, Tom clasped his other hand in Y/n’s - still mindful of the IV port coming out of the top of her wrist. Not that he was expecting any sort of response, yet the lack of her squeezing his hand back still had his heart sink. “Look I…I love you so bloody much and I really need you to get better okay? You’ve never listened to me before but I really am begging you to now, I just.” Swallowing thickly, he shut his eyes momentarily and delicately rested his forehead on hers - his touch feather light. Just needing to feel her. “I just really need you and I really love you., okay?” 

Unsurprisingly he didn’t get a response. The rhetorical question hung in the air alone, safe the mechanical whir of the ventilator and various chimes of the machines and monitor, till his Dad came in. Grasping and squeezing his shoulder lightly, Dom provided the stimulus for his son to unfold from over the bed, standing upright, as both men just took in the sight of Y/n lying there for a minute or two. 

“I need her Dad. I-I-“

“I know Tom.” Speaking so quietly it was barely audible, Dom’s eventual agreement at what Tom was saying was in a way a relief. Haz and his mum had both either been saying or implying that they would be okay no matter what - which came from a good place but was so infuriating. Because god forbid, if this situation got worse Tom knew it wouldn’t be okay. Nothing would ever be okay again. So his Dad’s simple acknowledgment meant a lot, causing Tom to turn round and embrace his slightly shorter father. 

Dr Goodwell silently watched the exchange for a short while and once the men eventually pulled away she stepped forward to give some more information. She went through what all the biggest and scary looking tubes and wires were doing for Y/n, before explaining the next steps. 

“Now as I said before we are sedating her at the moment, while we wait and see if she gets any complications from the surgery that are better treated while she is asleep. By this afternoon we will have a clearer idea and by that point we may choose to withdraw that sedation. It’s important that you are aware though that she might not wakeup immediately. Sometimes some people that have suffered similarly to your fiancé will be unconscious for a while in what I’d presume you’ve heard of as a ‘coma’. Now it’s not as dramatic as you see on TV shows, it’s just Ms Y/l/n’s brain giving her body a chance to recover. It’s often a longer process, which I know is something you don’t want to hear, but I have to be honest.” The doctor was stern but in a softer and from-a-caring-place. “These patients are suggested to possibly recover quicker if they have a steady support network behind them, which it seems like she does. That means that you need to look after yourself so you can help her sir, especially in what could be a long process. It’s not going to be helpful for Yn if you’re killing yourself trying to be here all the time… It seems like Y/n already has quite a big group of you here for her, so please remember you’ve got all of her care team here and everyone else to help you too….Does that make sense sir?”

“Tom” His Dad, in a gentle but firm warning tone, urged Tom to speak and to listen. Properly listen. 

“Yeh… I-yeh It’s just all a lot right now.”

“Of course… and we promise that if anything changes with her condition, you will be phoned straight away. You are welcome to stay as long as you want - the only rules are two at a time, no flowers, sign in and out and then sanitise your hands pretty excessively. If you need anything, Ms Y/l/n’s nurse will be your first port of call.”

“Thanks for everything” Dom nodded in a gracious manner, which the doctor seemed to massively appreciate - apparently, for the job they do not receiving a hell of a lot of thanks. 

“I’ll pop back in a little bit.”

And for a couple of hours everything everything felt like a bit of an anticlimax, nothing happened, not a lot changed. Just Tom and Dom sat next to Y/n’s bed in silence; Harrison and Nikki downstairs with the baby, till Dom got a phone call from Nikki asking them to meet at the neonatal unit  - which was limited by visitor numbers unlike the ICU. Thinking it’d be simple, the elder man gained Tom’s attention with a call of his name, explaining they should go down to meet up. 

“I’m not going down there.”

“Son, I know you’re worried by Y/n isnt going anywhere right now. The doctors said they’d call you if anything happens.”

“It’s not-“ Tom stopped himself, biting his tongue and looking away from his Dad. “I just don’t want to go down there.” Slowly, Dom was more and more realising Tom’s thought process and honestly… it scared him. In the hopes this was just a big misunderstanding he offered a different option - hoping Tom would equally refuse that. Dom suggested going down to the cafe instead, which most unfortunately Tom agreed to. It wasn’t leaving Y/n that was the issue, it was being near the baby. 

Tom’s daughter. Unnamed and apparently abondoned by both parents. 

Anyhow, Dom resigned to playing into Tom’s choice, perhaps Nikki and Harrison would be able to swing him round, to see sense. It still took Tom getting the nurse to triple check they had his correct number on record , just in case, before Dom could tear him away from the bed. Fortunately the pair found a quiet and secluded corner table, where Tom was still yet to be recognised, while Nikki and Haz found them too. 

What followed was Tom answering all his mum and Harrison’s questions about Y/n’s condition, in a blunt and emotionless manner - without Tom returning fire by asking any questions at all about his beautiful little baby girl. Eventually Nikki braved it, someone had to bring it up. 

“Well it sounds like littles going to change for a while… maybe you should head home for a bit? You’ve been up half the night and you look shattered love. You don’t have to go back to yours… you could stay in your old room for a bit?” Tom being by himself at the moment sounded like the most incredibly stupid idea ever, Nikki was offering it as a choice - when in reality there was only one option.

“Maybe later this evening I will? Just don’t want to leave her alone yet.”

“It’s already 7 love, you’ve not eaten all day, you got to look after yourself too.” Harrison and Dom sat awkwardly while Nikki tried to delicately encourage Tom into what was the only sensible plan, watching him nurse the small hot choclate in both his palms. Time really had lost all meaning at this point, for him it felt both years since he’d first arrived with Y/n and at the same time barely 10 minutes ago. It felt weird. 

“We can take shifts? If-if you want someone with her I mean… I don’t mind staying for a bit longer if it means you head back to your parents.” Harrison really truly didnt mind, in fact he sort of wanted to. He wanted to see Y/n’s face definitely alive, wanted to feel reassured by the monitors. Shockingly, Tom slowly nodded his head, surprising everyone with his lack of argument. None of them could work out whether it was a good thing him not putting up much arguement ; either he was heeding everyones advice of taking care of himself - or he had just given up. Harrison, as much as he didn’t want to, was favouring the latter. 

“Okay” Nikki declared optimistically “So maybe you and Harrison go up so you can say good night to Y/n, then we can all go and pick up the baby?” She opened the plan to the floor, allowing for input but got nothing - except maybe Tom’s jaw unconsciously tensing uncomfortable at the latter part of her statement. Dom noticed. 

Not one noticed but knew what it meant. His son blamed his granddaughter. His son, right now in that moment, hated the unnamed and totally helpless baby girl. 

part 4?

#tom holland #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tomholland #tom holland angst

[bangchanshehe]

The Only One pt.3

You and your life long best friend Chanyeol were like the same person. You knew everything about one another, and whatever problems you had you faced it together. But what are you supposed to do when you discover that your best friend loves you so much that only he can be important to you, and would go to great lengths to make sure that he was the only one? Yandere!AU

Chanyeol X OC

Word count: 2.2k

“let’s sit over here!” Jongin said in an upbeat tone as he gestured to a pretty isolated booth.

You followed his lead and sat down comfortably at the table and put your backpack to your side. You were about to ask Jongin a question when he suddenly stood up. You stared up at him with wide eyes wondering what he was doing.

“I’ll go get us something to drink. What do you want?” he asked you.

You glanced behind you over to the drink fountain to go over what different options they had but your eyes were met with a curious Chanyeol instead. He looked at you before he turned his head and looked Jongin up and down as if he were assessing him for something. you tried to make eye contact with him so you could give him a ‘leave it alone’ stare, but he wouldn’t stop staring at Jongin. You shook your head as you looked back over to the drink fountain and smiled when you saw the familiar red logo.

“I’ll just have a coke” you said looking back at Jongin with a smile.

Jongin nodded his head and returned your smile back before he walked away. You watched as he left and as soon as you saw him a safe distance away you pulled out your phone and quickly text Chanyeol.

Me: Stop staring at him like he has a third eye.

You hit send and looked back at Chanyeol to see his face while he read the message. He pulled out his phone and smiled down at the screen before he lifted his eyes to look at you. When you were satisfied that he had seen that you weren’t happy you turned back around just in time for Jongin to return to your table.

“thanks” you said softly as he sat your drink back down in front of you before returning to his seat.

You took a long swig of the drink and let out a nice content sigh as you felt the carbonation go down your throat. Jongin watched you with a smile and you couldn’t help but smile back at him.

“what?” you asked, “is there something on my face?” you pat away at the corners of your mouth and your chin, hoping to catch whatever it was that was making Jongin laugh at you that way.

“no, there isn’t anything there. You just looked cute.” He commented before he pulled out a menu and looked it over.

You sat in your seat starstruck and completely frozen. He thinks that I’m cute? You mentally squealed on the inside. You looked down at your phone pretending to be busy while you tried to calm down and wipe the massive grin and blush away from your cheeks. You couldn’t believe that this was happening to you right now… I mean even if Jongin was joking it still made you feel like the prettiest girl in the world in that moment.

“what type of pizza do you normally order?” Jongin asked as he scanned the different pizzas they had on the menu, not bothering to look up at you.

“Usually I order Hawaiian, but I’m honestly okay with whatever type of pizza. I’m not picky about food.” You replied.

Jongin’s eyes snapped up to you when you had mentioned Hawaiian pizza. “you like pineapple on pizza?” he asked with a shocked expression.

“yeah…” you said chuckling nervously “It’s pretty good. Do you not like it?” you asked back

Jongin cocked his head to the side and gave you a questionable look. “I thought that you had pretty good taste… but I guess not.” He said jokingly while laughing lightly.

Your eyes widened and you laughed back with him. “hey! Have you ever tried it though?” you asked back. Jongin fiercely shook his head no and you smiled “I bet you would like it if you tried it!” you said in a challenging voice.

Jongin laughed and pointed at the menu “okay so let’s get a large pizza… half Hawaiian and half pepperoni” he stated making sure that it sounded good to you.

“perfect” you said sweetly giving him confirmation.

“Great. Then I’ll go order really fast.” He said pointing back to the registers before he got up and quickly approached the counter.

As soon as he was away you had received a text message. You pulled it out and saw a string of messages from Chanyeol.

Yeolie: This guy doesn’t like pineapples on pizza? You sure know how to pick em’

Yeolie: Hey! Keep the laughing down over there I’m trying to study over here

Yeolie: if you smile any wider you’re going to start catching flies with your mouth.

You scoffed in disbelief and turned around to glare at Chanyeol. But when you turned back Chanyeol was looking anywhere but at you. You tried to whistle and hiss to catch his attention, but he only smiled and continued to ignore you.

“you unlucky punk. Im going to give it to you later” you angerly whispered underneath your breath as you quickly typed out a text.

Me: if you know what’s good for you you’d better stop.

You huffed out in victory as you sent the message and then immediately turned your phone off to make sure that Chanyeol couldn’t bother you anymore while you were here.

“what’s wrong?” Jongin asked with a serious expression as he cautiously took his seat across from you “did something happen?”

You snapped your head up in surprise and your angry expression was immediately wiped away at the sound of Jongin’s voice. You gave him a small smile and quickly tucked your phone away in your backpack so it wouldn’t bother you anymore.

“nothings wrong” you said sweetly

“good. Im glad” he said nicely back

  After a thirty minutes the two of you were thoroughly stuffed and blushing with how awkward and sweet things were going between the two of you. In just this short amount of time you found out that Jongin’s favorite color is blue, he has an older sister, he loves dancing as a hobby and he really likes scary movies. Surprisingly the two of you had more things in common than you were aware of, and you knew deep down that this was just basic information that anyone who would call themselves a friend of his would know but you couldn’t help but think that it was a conversation that made the two of you grow closer.

“since we already ate and relaxed do you want to study for a bit?” he asked as he reached for his bag.

“sure” you responded back noticing that he didn’t wait for you to respond before he already began to change the direction of the conversation and evening.

You pulled out all of your supplies and laid them out in front of yourself. You were a bit of a freak when it came to how you had all of your study supplies laid out. You needed a black, blue and red pen. A highlighter and sticky notes. White-out for any mistakes and tabs to mark which sections you thought were the most important.

When you had everything organized you looked up to see Chanyeol walking by your booth. When he was past Jongin’s line of vision he began making angry faces and making texting motions with hands. You glared at him and cocked your head to the side telling him as best as you could to get lost. Chanyeol glared back at you for a moment and then smiled a sideways grin as if he was in total disbelief before he walked away towards the front counter.

“do you know him?” Jongin asked quietly as to not offend anyone as he looked back at Chanyeol and then to you

You laughed nervously before responding “who? That guy?” you pointed to Chanyeol before waving your hands no.

“are you sure?” he said looking back at Chanyeol once more as he came walking to your table.

You waited for Chanyeol to continue walking past, but he never did. He stopped dead in his tracks and with his hand on the back of his head he smiled at you before half yelling “Y/N! I didn’t see that you were sitting here! How long have you guys been here?” he asked with the least convincing tone ever.

You looked up at him with an evil frown for half a second before you decided to play along with his stupid little game. “oh my god. Chanyeol! We’ve been here for about an hour now. where were you sitting?”

He laughed to himself and then gestured with his head to the booth that was just a few spaces back from you. “just over there. I didn’t realize that it was you since I could only see the back of your head”

“would you like to join us while we study?” Jongin asked politely

You and Chanyeol both turned your heads towards Jongin but with different intent. Chanyeol was grinning like he had just won the lottery and you were giving Jongin a pleading look as if you were begging for him not to allow Chanyeol to stay.

“sure. Let me just bring my things over” Chanyeol said happily before he collected his things from his table and brought them back to yours.

You smiled fakely at Chanyeol’s retreating form and decided to turn on your phone so you could give him a warning text message to go away. But as soon as your phone was unlocked you saw a few new text messages come in from Chanyeol. You rolled your eyes before you opened the message but once you read them your heart sank and you were a bit more hyper aware of everything that was going on around you.

Yeolie: Don’t panic but I think he put something in your drink.

Yeolie: quit drinking damnit!

By the time that reality had sunk in Chanyeol was moving things over on your side of the booth so there would be space for him to sit down next to you. As you watched him get comfortable as single tear fell from the corner of your eye and you tried to remain as straight faced so you wouldn’t look to suspicious to Jongin. But before you could give yourself away Chanyeol turned to you to make sure that you were okay when he saw your tear. His face immediately dropped into sadness with you and he wiped the tear away from your cheek.

“I’m gonna get a refill” Chanyeol said to you quietly  “do you want another one?”

You grabbed onto his free hand under then table and gave it a gentle squeeze. “thanks” you said turning away from him so the two of you didn’t look so affectionate.

As Chanyeol grabbed both cups you watched him slip out of the booth and walk to the front counter. He put your cup down on the bar and then reached over for a new cup while no one was watching him. Your heart warmed and you felt so safe in that moment despite sitting across from someone who wanted to potentially do something incredibly bad to you. You were incredibly lucky to have a best friend like Chanyeol and you don’t know what you would do If you didn’t have him around. You sniffled and blinked twice trying to keep your tears at bay and you watched him as he made your drink again for you, unaware that Jongin was staring at you.

“are you okay?” he asked with a look of shock and concern

“I’m fine. I think my eyes are just tired and they keep watering up.” You said unconvincingly, trying your best to make up a lie on the spot.

  After Chanyeol had approached your table the three of you immediately began to work diligently on your studies. You and Chanyeol had secretly agreed that if you were feeling bad that he would make up a lie to get you out, and in an hour’s time the two of you would leave no matter what.

“So you guys seem pretty close. Have y’all known each other for a long time or something?” Jongin asked

“childhood friends” Chanyeol said confidently, speaking up for you so you wouldn’t have to reply

Jongin nodded his head but continued to look in between the two of you as if he was trying to solve a puzzle “y’all are just friends? Have you two ever dated?” he asked

You smiled and looked over at Chanyeol just for the excuse to look at his face. “just friends” you said politely and Chanyeol smiled back at you with a similar plain smile. You would be lying if you said that you had never had feelings for Chanyeol that went deeper than just the close friendship. There was a period of time in which you couldn’t look at Chanyeol without blushing and dreaming of holding his hand and calling him your man.

But as the two of you got older then more you realized that you and Chanyeol were destined to be only friends. Anything more would be impossible, because if the two of you date and end on bad terms then you’ve also lost your best friend.

“Not yet but I’m working on it” Chanyeol said straight to Jongin’s face as if it were a challenge.

#kpop #kpop smut #kpop seires #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #kpop yandere #yandere au #yandere #exo yandere #exo yandere au #exo series #exo smut #exo fanfic #exo fanfiction #exo imagine #exo scenario #chanyeol #chanyeol series #chanyeol yandere #chanyeol fanfic #chanyeol fanfiction

[im-a-simp1]

Star Wars Companion: Part Two

Peter Parker x Y/n

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: Cussing, angst, a little fluff , death (in a flashback)

Summary: After Peter and y/n have made plans to watch the movies, y/n stops at the convenience store to grab snacks but things turn south real fast. (This story is from y/n’s POV unlike the previous one just a heads up)

Masterlist

 Y/n POV:

“It’s 15th Street apartment 410 and does 8pm work for ya?” Peter said

“Yeah that’s sounds good”

“Alright see you tomorrow!”

“Oh and I will provide snacks since you are providing the movies. See you tomorrow :)” Blushing after sending the last text. He made my heart jump out of my chest. I have always been too shy to talk to him not because he’s intimidating but more of not knowing how to talk to him. I was never good at talking to boys in general and starting a conversation was not my specialty. After seeing the millennial falcon on his backpack in art class, finding that common ground made it easier to reach out to him. Now that I am going to his place to watch my favorite franchise, my heart is flowing with joy.

Next day couldn’t have gone any slower. It seemed like an hour had passed by but I would look at the clock and only 5 minutes had passed by. I was just wanting to go over to Peter’s to spend time with him and watch the movies. After school, I had gone home and started to gather things that I wanted to bring over. I grabbed my Star Wars blanket, I always have it with me when I watch the movies, my dad has given it to me when I was younger when we watched them together. Star Wars has always reminded her of her dad, she got her love from Star Wars from her dad. I had to think of something else before I started crying because today is not the day for crying it is a joyful day. I grabbed my phone out to text Peter, “Can’t wait time see you at 8. Don’t forget! (ps what kind of snacks do you want?” I had sent the text waiting for his response. Since we were watching the movies later, I was able to crank out some homework, it was a way for time to go by faster. Finally it was 7 and Peter still hasn’t responded to my text. I thought it was weird but I just figured he was just doing homework and not paying attention to his phone. With that being said, I got up and took my stuff to bring over and left my apartment, my mom works nights at the hospital so she was never home when I was home. As I went to the convenient store, I was searching through snacks and candies, I guess I have to choose for him I thought to myself. After some debating, I finally grabbed a few snacks and I made my way over to the clerk. As I was getting in the line, a couple of men came in with masks on with only the eyes and mouth showing. I knew we were screwed as soon as I saw them.

“EVERYONE ON THE GROUND!” One man shouted holding a gun at the people in the line

“GIVE ME ALL THE DAMN MONEY FROM THE REGISTER RIGHT NOW!” One of the men said pointing the gun at the cashier. He shouted at the clerk. As everyone was getting one the ground freaking out, my body did nothing. I dropped the snacks from where I was and was completely frozen, my body could not comprehend what was going on. The robber that was pointing the gun at the people in the store, I made eye contact with him. My heart dropped.

“Come here sweetheart” he says in a creepy voice as he was using the gun to usher for me to come over. I still was frozen and could not move.

“I said COME HERE RIGHT NOW” as he shouts and points the gun at me. His voice startled me and I felt my eyes start to water. My feet were finally able to slowly move to him.

“Hands in the air” he said and I obeyed.

“Good girl” as he uses his free arm to wrap around my waist to hold me while pointing the gun at my head. “You are my ticket out for when the cops come. Yeah you're going to be some nice leverage” he whispers into my ear. At this point my chances of living are decreasing by the second, so if I was going to have courage it had to be now.

“How about you fuck off and go die in a hole”

“Shut the fuck up bitch! Maybe I will just kill you now” he says as he presses the gun further into my head as if it wasn’t close enough. Maybe that wasn’t the best moment for courage. It didn’t matter at this point. I was thinking that this was it, I was going to die. This robber was going to shoot me like how my father was shot in the middle of a robbery just like this. I didn’t want to die, I wanted so much more with my life, I wanted to explore the world, especially Venice and take a gondola ride, I wanted to have a family, but most of all, I just wanted to say one last I love you to my mom. I wondered if that was one of my dad’s last thoughts when he died, if he just wanted to say I love you to my mom one last time. Not knowing when he was going to pull the trigger made the situation so much worse, the anticipation was killing me. I just wanted to know if he was going to do it or not.

“And mister have you ever learned that stealing is wrong, even I was taught that at a young age” a person in a red and blue tight suit just said leading against the door. Speaking so casually like the robbers was no real threat. The robber that was holding me had shifted us to be facing the mysterious person instead of looking sideways. Then after getting a better look at the person, I realized it’s Spider-Man, my chances of getting out of this alive just increased just a little bit, making me hopeful. As we turned Spiderman had shot his webs which ended up tying the robber who was pointing the gun at the clerk.

“And for you know it's rude to hold someone hostage...” Spider-Man started to fade out when he looked at me.

“Y/n?”

Both the robber and I were a little shocked that he had said my name.

“Oh so you know this girl. Is that so? Huh, well know I am most definitely taking her with me”

Even though the robber was speaking, I wasn’t really paying attention to what he was saying. Even though he just threatened to kidnap me, I knew that Spider-Man was going to get me out of this. I was just thinking about how Spiderman knows my name. Did I know him personally? Or did he just know my name? Have I come into contact with Spiderman real identity?

“How do you…” but before I could finish my question, Spiderman shot a web from his wrists and took the robber’s gun out of his hand. With a little bit of courage that I had left, I had elbowed the robber in the gut. As he was grabbing his now hurt stomach, I took this opportunity to run away from the robber. Maybe telling the robber to fuck off helped after all. Once I was out of reach, I had turned around and Spider-Man had already tied him up in his webs. After tying him up, Spiderman made his way toward me.

“Are you okay?” He asked. My adrenaline was still pumping throughout my entire body.

“Um, yeah I think so. Thank you for saving my life.”

“Anytime”

“I am forever grateful”

“It’s nothing really, I'm just doing my job” as he itches the back of his head.

“Hey um how do you know my name?” Almost forgetting to ask him.

“Oh um I ah um sorry, um I-I got to go maybe next time” he states as he starts to run away, he turns back around and sees that you are picking up tour snacks that you dropped on the ground. He quickly comes back to your side and helps you pick up your snacks.

“You know what is a good snack miss?”

“What?”

“Sour Patch Watermelons” he says and quickly runs away and swings his way out of the convenience store right before the police show up.

-

-

-

Thank you so much for reading my story! There are few things I need to mention

I’m sorry if you have been waiting for this part 2 to release, I have been busy with college work and a good family friends of mine are moving and my family and I have been helping them so it’s been chaotic with that as well.

There will be a part 3 (I obliviously can’t let the story end there)

And I have been on tumbler for awhile now but I have only read fanfics and never really wrote till now. But I have recently been struggling with replies to my posts. I turned on my replies so that everyone can reply but it seems to not be working. If you know your way around this app or know how to help me, please message me! I would like to hear people’s comments on my stories!

Thank you 😊

#peter parker x reader #peter parker fanfiction #Tom Holland #marvel fanfiction #peter parker #x reader #marvel #spiderman #spiderman fic #spiderman x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfiction #part 2 #spiderman fanfiction #spiderman angst #part 3 coming soon

[spencers-renaissance]

Vivaldi on Full Volume

Summary: Spencer's done enough pining, so he decides to write a letter for Aaron telling him exactly how he feels and gives it to him on the jet. He cannot be held responsible for what happens when they land.

Tags: Love Confessions, Fluff, Getting Together, Insecurity, My Typical CM Characterisation: Protective Aaron, Shy Spencer oops

Pairing: Hotch/Reid

Word Count: 5.2k

Read on Ao3

The Love Letter, Uninterrupted

Spencer’s hands are shaking as he gets up from his seat in the corner of the jet. They’re 40 minutes away from landing, deliberately planned well in advance: everyone’s well and truly settled, there isn’t long to wait for a private conversation and people haven’t woken up to prepare for landing yet. This is well thought out, he tells himself, trying to be convincing. There isn’t much that can go wrong.

Except there absolutely is. He’s run all the possible outcomes over and over in his head, at night, on the jet, spare moments in cases; he knows pretty much every possibility in and out. The worst case scenario, of course, is Aaron flips and hurts him or never talks to him again, but he knows logically that this is unlikely. No, the most likely situation is a polite rejection and a rift in their relationship, but it’s a risk he has to take. This limbo is too painful to exist in forever: he has to give himself a chance at happiness, and if that doesn’t happen he needs a chance to get over him. 

Aaron is, predictably, sitting on his own at the other end of the jet, getting a head start on his paperwork. He’d shot Spencer a questioning look when he’d opted to sit on his own instead of opposite or next to him, but everyone knows that Spencer sometimes needs a moment to himself and after he’d responded with a reassuring smile, Aaron had smiled back and looked down. 

“Reid,” he greets him as he looks up from the plethora of forms and files and reports littering the table in front of him, that questioning look returning and bleeding into his voice. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asks after Spencer stands there frozen for a moment, shaking him out of his head and reminding him of his mission. 

“Yeah, sorry,” he says softly, chuckling a little. “Here. Can you do me a favour and… read this for me? All the way to the end? Leave your questions for the end, and we can talk once we land.” He hands him the pretty stationery wrapped in a tissue paper envelope. The seal is a deep navy that had reminded Spencer of Aaron the moment he saw it in the shop, and he used it even though he knew it would tear the tissue and was utterly pointless. His hands still shake a little as he passes it over, but he doesn’t blame himself. Anyone would be nervous. This isn’t just a Spencer thing.

Once Aaron has the letter in his hands he turns it, looking it over, before meeting Spencer’s anxious gaze with his own steady one, now filled with growing curiosity. “Of course,” he says, indulgently. It’s one of Spencer’s favourite things about him, his stoicism in the face of a surprise. He doesn’t react in a way that might further upset somebody when they share something with him, and it makes him an excellent leader. 

Spencer shoots him another nervous but meaningful smile, the kind he uses with his friends, with Henry, with people he cares about. People he’s been in love with for five years. Whatever. 

He turns away and doesn’t look back.

★

Aaron struggles to contain his curiosity long enough to wait until Spencer is settled back in his seat on the other side of the plane. This must be why he’d chosen to sit somewhere other than next to him on this flight which had admittedly confused him a little, Spencer usually liked the familiarity and comfort of sitting next to him. He’d suspected he needed space but now it seems as though he was psyching himself up to hand this letter to him. 

It’s not a resignation letter, Aaron is fairly certain of that, Spencer would never use such beautiful stationery and a seal in his favourite colour for something so straightforward and professional. He’d also given him one of those heart-warmingly open and trusting smiles before turning back, even if it was a little anxious. This is something personal. 

Finally giving into his curiosity, he carefully opens the handmade envelope and pulls out the letter written on high-quality paper in Spencer’s delicate script. 

Aaron,

I have debated sitting down and putting pen to paper to write this letter for a long time, much less handing it to you to read. This is perhaps the most forward thing I have ever done, and you will understand that it is also the bravest. I know I am crossing a line in writing this. I have never been one to break the rules, it's something we have in common, isn't it? We're both straight arrows. Perhaps I am hoping for too much. I am not the object of many's desire and maybe it is foolish to hope that someone as amazing as you could possibly be the exception, but if I don't get it out of my system I'm afraid this secret may bubble up and swallow me whole, its acidic aftertaste never quite leaving my mouth.

Immediately, Aaron’s heart starts beating out of his chest. Spencer rarely calls him Aaron -- the whole team operates on a largely last-name only basis -- but he’d be lying if those infrequent times when his first name leaves Spencer’s lips don’t make his heart flutter and insides warm. His face betrays him, he knows, but this might just be everything he’s been hoping to hear for the last four years and the team is asleep or preoccupied right now, thanks to Spencer’s clearly well-planned timing. He can afford to let his guard down a little.

His stomach clenches, though, when he sees Spencer’s insecurity bleeding into his writing, the ink revealing his painful self-doubt where his lips keep them tightly sealed away. He’s absolutely everything Aaron is craving, and if others can’t see that then it’s their own loss. He knows, though, that Spencer is too oblivious for his own good: the rest of the team don’t miss the looks he gets when they go out for drinks, but Spencer does. Spencer could get anyone he wants, even if he doesn’t realise it, and the honour of being the chosen person isn’t lost on him.

The truth of the matter is we live dangerous lives. This plane could crash, one of us could get shot, stabbed, blown up and not survive it next time. I need to take advantage of the fact that right now we are alive, and if there is any chance that I could live my life alongside yours then I must take it.

That makes Aaron let out a small, breathy laugh. He’d thought the same exact thing so many times, but Spencer was a lot braver than he was. Even if it didn’t have the potential for a sexual harrassment suit and the loss of his job, he’s not sure he’d have the bravery to tell Spencer just how in love with him he is. Not in a letter written with a fountain pen on pretty stationery, not to his face, not in front of others, not alone. Spencer has guts he’d lost a long time ago. A risky job had led to a tightly controlled personal life. He plays it safe. Spencer doesn’t.

Here is what I want:

I want to throw caution to the wind and live vicariously with you. Let's eat pancakes for dinner, drive down the interstate with the windows down and listen to Vivaldi on full volume, let's hold hands in the street in Virginia and say fuck it to anybody who has a problem with it. I want to get stuck in your head the way you're stuck in mine: when you're doing paperwork, I want to be in the back of your head. I want to excite you when you think of me naked, when you think of me spread out beneath you. Not a moment goes by where I don't think of you, Aaron. I wish I was on your mind in the same way.

Aaron’s face breaks out into a much wider smile. Oh, God, Spencer, he thinks, sending his eyes to the ceiling of the jet. You have no idea. Spencer doesn’t have to wish for this, to crave such a thing, it’s already happening. It feels like paperwork takes twice as long as it used to do before he fell in love with Spencer. It’s not even limited to his job: doing laundry, washing the dishes, cooking dinner, driving Jack to a soccer match, watching TV -- everything he does is consumed by thoughts of Spencer.

And Jesus Christ have mercy, the thought of Spencer spread out naked beneath him, what he looks like under those conservative button ups and cardigans, plays out behind his eyelids far too often. It’s made him feel like a pervert for years, fantasising about his much younger coworker and wondering what he likes in bed, how he could make him feel good. The idea that the same thoughts about him fill Spencer’s brain has him weak at the knees and hot under the collar. Of course he chose the jet to do this, he thinks amusedly. 

Let's find new TV shows and movies together! There's nothing I'd like more than to cuddle up against your chest after a hard case and watch something that we both enjoy, that gives us a sense of comfort and familiarity. On the weekends, let's get dressed up and visit fancy restaurants only to have a cheap crepe at the end of the night before rushing back home to get undressed again. I want to be yours, and I want you to prove that to the world.

Aaron’s heart is melting slowly, dripping down the inside of his chest, he’s sure of it. He’s walked into his apartment after a hard case feeling empty and defeated, wishing Spencer was there to give him a hug and take away the pain far too many times. It only ever made him feel worse, the belief that that would never happen, it never could happen, only now he’s being proved wrong. 

He already knows the first place he’ll take Spencer. Rossi had treated him to dinner there once after Haley passed away, and the ambience and seafood paella had wedged itself firmly into his mind. He’d fantasised many times about how Spencer’s eyes would look in the soft lighting, how he’d laugh in the relaxed setting, how he’d feel spoiled and loved when Aaron footed the bill, ignoring his protests. His heart feels full and bursting at the thought that soon these ideas might not be as far-fetched as he’d convinced himself for so long. He wishes he could see Spencer right now, but he knows he’s probably panicking quietly in the corner, and he was told to save his questions for the end. He’ll play on his terms, especially since it was Spencer who’d had the bravery to do this in the first place.

My biggest fear in writing this letter, though, may not be that you simply won't return my affections, but that you're still in love with Haley. I could never seek to replace her, but I know how deeply you loved her and how painful the wounds of your grief still are. I hope you know, Aaron, that if you do love me back, I'm not jealous of Haley. Not at all. I respect her and I respect your grief.

He can’t help the stab of pain in his gut at the mention of Haley. He’d loved her so deeply and he knew the team was acutely aware of that, Spencer probably more than anybody else if this letter was anything to go by. It strikes him then, just how kind Spencer is. He’s always known it on some level, of course, but the selfless compassion and love for the people around him is so overwhelming when he takes a moment to properly comprehend it. He could have glossed over his late wife in such a letter, but instead he chose to promise Aaron that he could share his heart with Haley. He knows Spencer will keep such a promise. 

I've tried for years to hide the way I feel, Aaron. I went on dates to try and get over you, I dodged you in the break room and bullpen to avoid conversing with you which only made my infatuation worse each time, I feigned plans to get out of family nights because seeing you in a casual setting is so cuttingly painful. I can't hide it anymore, though. I'd rather transfer out of the BAU than continue in this limbo of awkward pining. If you hate me, that's okay, I can deal with that. But there isn't much I don't know, and not knowing this? It's agonising.

Aaron’s stomach clenches again. He wishes they hadn’t been pining all these years so Spencer didn’t have to exist in the parallel of his own realm of wistful agony. The thought of him avoiding him in the break room with the empty ache of unrequited love filling his insides, believing he could never have him when Aaron had been doing the same thing is almost laughable: they were both so oblivious.

Seeing Spencer dressed in jeans and a t-shirt last year when Morgan had invited them all to one of his renovation projects had tortured him for weeks afterwards, and now he was being told that he’d done the same to him; Spencer had gone home after those gatherings and thought about him casual and relaxed, unbuttoned polo shirts and all. It’s almost unbearable. 

It’s reassuring, though, to know Spencer is as committed to this hypothetical as he is. Aaron would leave the BAU, too, if it came to it. If it meant he got to come home to Spencer and cuddle him on the sofa with history documentaries playing on the TV that Spencer was subconsciously memorising and would repeat the next time it was even slightly relevant in conversation. If it meant he could smile knowingly, and wrap an arm around his oblivious boyfriend’s waist, proving to the world that Spencer was his, just like he asked. 

The only way to end this letter is with hope. Any answer you give me I will respect, but I am holding out hope that you will say all this back to me, that you will write your own love letter or profess your own love. That you have similar fantasies and daydreams about me, that you've thought of all these things, too. Thank you for reading this all the way through, Aaron. All that's left to say are five simple words:

I'm in love with you.

Spencer.

Aaron reads the letter over once more before folding it carefully and placing it back in the envelope. He’s completely floored, to be honest. The last thing he expected after a fairly straight-forward case in Seattle was a love confession from the man he’d been in love with since before Haley even passed away, but he’s going to take it and run with it, consequences be damned. 

The plane starts to descend and the rest of the team begin rousing from their naps or putting their books down as chatter starts to rise. “Right,” Aaron says, grabbing everyone’s attention, though Spencer keeps himself carefully tucked away in the corner. “We should have the next few days off though we are on standby, okay? Everyone get some rest, make sure you come back refreshed and ready to tackle the next case. Don’t forget your reports though, have them emailed to me or on my desk by Monday.” He gives everyone a tight smile before turning away as conversations resumed. 

He knows Spencer is tormenting himself by analysing every cadence in his voice, trying to gauge his reaction and he longs to walk over to him and kiss his anxieties away, but he can’t. Spencer specifically asked him to wait until they landed, and he can’t reveal anything to the team so early, certainly not without discussing it first. Instead, he sits back in his seat, abandoning the paperwork in front of him in favour of fighting the fond, excited smile off his face and imagining his first kiss with Spencer, the anticipation making it so much more intense now that it’s actually real.

Time, as it always does, passes, however slowly. They eventually land and Aaron schools his face as the rest of the team pour out onto the tarmac. “Right everyone, I’ll see you in a few days but keep your phones on in case we get called up,” he calls once they’re all off the plane. As everyone starts to peel off to the garage or the office, he turns to Spencer, still keeping his face straight for the sake of others around them. “How about we go to my place and talk.”

“That sounds good,” Spencer says, small smile taking the edge off the anxiety on his face. 

★

The car ride back to Aaron’s apartment is quiet. “I don’t need to pick Jack up until the morning, so it’s just us tonight,” he explains, and Spencer is relieved to see his face soften significantly now they’re alone. He allows a dash of hope to flare in his chest before forcing himself to temper his expectations. You don’t know anything yet. He could be letting you down easy, this could be a pity thing. His fingers drum anxiously against his thigh as Aaron drives, eyes focused straight on the road, his face still unreadable. God, does he have to be so sexy when he drives? 

Just like the time on the plane, though, the time in the car eventually passes, the tension thick between them by the time Aaron pulls into his apartment complex. He smiles gently at Spencer as he takes the key out of the ignition. “Shall we head up?” he asks, and Spencer’s floored at what he sees in his face: he’s wearing the expression he only pulls when he looks at Jack or the team as a whole on a relaxed evening out. To see it directed at him exclusively is a kind of intensity he isn’t prepared for and it bowls him over for a second. 

“Yeah,” Spencer laughs breathily. “Sorry, yeah. Let’s go up.” 

The apartment door closing behind them sounds way too loud to Spencer and, sick of the tension, he decides to try and clear the air. “Look, Aaron, Hotch, can you just tell me--”

He’s cut off by Aaron’s lips pressing firmly against his own, a hand coming to rest on his waist while another grips his face gently. It takes him a second to catch up before he’s kissing back, overwhelmed by the feeling of Aaron’s hands on his body, the very hands he’s admired for years, the hands he’s fantasised about, the hands that make him feel things. He reaches up to place his own on Aaron’s chest, feeling the broadness there, the strength in the body against his making him weak at the knees. 

Aaron pulls away eventually. “God, you have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he says, voice as breathless as Spencer feels. 

“Me too,” he replies, chest heaving as he catches his breath. “Maybe… maybe we should do it again.” He smiles shyly at Aaron before leaning in again, this time gasping a little as Aaron pushes him back against the door for leverage, tracing his hand up and down Spencer’s sides, making him tremble in his grip.

“God, Spencer, you’re so damn breathtaking,” Aaron says in between fervent kisses. “Literally.” They both giggle into each others’ mouths at that, relief filling both of them up to the brim as the knowledge that finally, finally, their pining is over sets in. This could be it, they could build something real. 

“Aaron,” Spencer moans, trembling more as Aaron presses himself closer, right hand moving to grip the back of his neck gently, holding him firmly against his body. It overwhelms Spencer a bit, feeling completely surrounded by a man who was so unattainable for so long, by the person he’s been in love with for years. 

It was completely involuntary, but it makes Aaron pull away, resting his forehead against Spencer’s as they both breathe deeply. “We should talk,” he says softly, pressing a final chaste kiss to Spencer’s lips before pulling back completely and taking his hand, leading him to the sofa. 

“Could I have a blanket or something?” Spencer asks shyly, looking sheepish. “I’m a bit chilly.”

He sees realisation dawn on Aaron’s face along with a little bit of guilt. “Of course, Spencer,” he says. “Sorry this is so backwards. Do you want anything else? Something to eat or drink?”

“No, I’m fine,” Spencer says lightly. “Let’s talk and then we could order some dinner?” 

“Sounds perfect,” he smiles, reaching over into a cupboard and bringing out a thick, fluffy blanket. He drapes it over Spencer and makes sure he’s completely comfortable before sitting down opposite him on the sofa himself. “So. Your letter.”

Spencer ducks his head, a light flush tinting his cheeks. “Yeah, I guess I didn’t know how else to say it?” he says, a question colouring his voice. 

“No, I’m not criticising you,” Aaron rushes to clarify. “It’s possibly the most romantic, beautiful thing anyone’s ever done for me, and the truth is, Spencer, I’m in love with you, too.”

Spencer’s head darts up, wide, earnest eyes meeting Aaron’s serious gaze. “You are?” he asks, voice filled with the surprised sort of wonderment that always betrays him whenever any sort of love or affection is revealed to him.

“I am,” Hotch chuckles fondly. “Very much so. I’ve loved you since before Haley passed, to be honest. I’ve done all the things you wrote in your letter, too; I want all the same things you do.”

Spencer’s blush darkens a bit at that, remembering… certain parts… of his letter that he hopes Aaron includes in that statement. “All of it?” His voice is a little squeaky, almost cracking as he clears his throat at the awkwardness. 

“Yeah,” Aaron grins cheekily, loving that he can appreciate the blush on Spencer’s cheeks openly now. There’s no more room for hiding. “All of it.” 

Spencer clears his throat again. “So, is this what you want? Me? A relationship?” he asks, still a little uncertain, not quite secure in the fact that Aaron won’t back off and say this was an experiment, he’s not really committed in the same way Spencer is. 

“Wild horses couldn’t keep me away,” Aaron says earnestly. “I want you. I want everything that comes with you, I want the highs and lows of a relationship, I want commitment, I want fun, I want seriousness. Spencer, will you be my boyfriend?” 

Spencer’s brain short circuits for a second before he looks up with the widest smile, one usually reserved for Henry, the kind that reveals unadulterated, unconditional love. “Yes,” he whispers as he launches himself across the sofa and into Aaron’s arms, resting his head on his chest as he revels in the comfort of that exact moment. Finally, though, the extreme emotions of the evening catch up with him and he can’t quite fight them off anymore, maybe his brain is finally convinced that he doesn’t have to, that he’s safe here. Whatever the reason, he can’t help the tears that start to leak from his eyes, or the sobs that softly wrack his shoulders. 

“Spencer,” Aaron whispers back, voice dripping in concern. “Spencer, what’s wrong?” 

“It’s just… it happened,” he tries to explain through his snivelling. “What I hoped for… at the end of my letter. I wrote ‘I am holding out hope that you will say all this back to me, that you will write your own love letter or profess your own love. That you have similar fantasies and daydreams about me, that you've thought of all these things, too.’ And you did. You do.”

“Yeah,” Aaron says, struck with awe, too. “It’s pretty overwhelming for me, too.”

They lie like that for a while longer, finding comfort in one another’s arms, the weight of Spencer weighing Aaron down in a way that feels like security and Aaron’s arms wrapping around him in a way that gives him all the comfort and protection he craves.

Eventually, Spencer picks his head up and meets Aaron’s tired eyes. It had been a long case and an emotionally exhausting evening, and it was nearing midnight. “Shall I order some pizza?” he asks, playing with the tie Aaron was still wearing, slightly loosened but still sexy enough for Spencer to very much appreciate. 

“Please,” he says, leaning forward to press a kiss to Spencer’s lips. “I can’t believe I just get to do that now.”

Spencer hums in content. “Well, by all means, Mr Hotchner, do it again,” he says in a sultry tone.

Aaron groans. “You’d better not talk like that, Spencer, or we’ll never get our pizza.” 

“Sorry, sorry,” he chuckles. “You get us some drinks and get the telly set up. I’ll be right back.” 

Aaron closes the curtains, turns off the overhead light and turns on some lamps and lights some candles. Spencer raises an eyebrow at that and he puts his hands up defensively. “What? They’re cosy!” Spencer giggles at that, kissing him again. 

“Can we put the history channel on?” Spencer asks while Aaron turns the TV on and fiddles with the volume. 

“Wouldn’t expect anything less, sweetheart.” Spencer ducks his head and blushes, insides warming and tingling at the affection. He’s still not entirely sure this isn’t a dream. Aaron, unfortunately, doesn’t miss it. “Aw, are you blushing? Do you like that, you like it when I call you sweetheart?” he teases, smiling warmly at Spencer, clearly relishing in the deep red colour of his face. “Or is it just any pet name? You like it when I call you pretty names, baby?”

Spencer nearly outright moans at that but manages to stifle it, not that it makes much of a difference in Aaron’s delighted expression. “Stop, Aaron,” he whines in a manner that conveys he would very much not like Aaron to stop. 

“God, baby, you are too much to handle,” he groans, leaning across the sofa to pull Spencer away from his perch against the corner and into his chest. They lay quietly like that for a few minutes while the history channel plays a documentary about the Battle of Trafalger, breathing deep and slow as they appreciate this little slice of serenity while they wait for their dinner to arrive.

Once their pizza boxes are empty and they’ve finally had something to eat, Aaron turns to Spencer who’s meticulously wiping the pizza grease on his fingers away with a napkin, making him smile fondly. “Hey, Spence?” he asks, grabbing the attention of the younger man. “I wanted to talk to you about something you wrote in your letter.” 

Spencer looks a little bit like a rabbit caught in the headlights, hesitant as to what Aaron is about to say. What if he was mortally offended by something, or he didn’t like something I wrote? Was I too forward?

“First of all, I’ll always love Haley, but in a distant, wistful kind of way that I can’t quite explain. She’s been gone for a while now and I’ve moved on,” he explains, and Spencer’s flush returns. It’s one thing to write the letter, hell, it’s one thing to hand it to Aaron, but it’s another thing entirely to discuss the ins and outs of his heart in such graphic detail. “I fell in love with you very slowly, but I’d realised it around four months before Haley died. I’ll grant you that in the following year I didn’t really have much time or emotional capacity to dwell on it but it was always there in the back of my mind, and it’s only intensified over the last two years.”

“Really?” The flush is still firmly rooted to Spencer’s face, but his eyes are wide now, staring into Aaron’s with an earnest sort of intensity. “I had no idea.”

“Well I had no idea that you wanted everything I did, either,” Aaron chuckles. “Instead we’ve just been existing in a state of perpetual mutual pining and if you hadn’t had the bravery to do what you did, maybe we never would have known.”

“It was rather brave,” Spencer smiles, joking a bit, but they both know it’s the truth. “I’ve been in love with you since the Tobias Hankel situation. After you understood me and knew how to find me, how you saved my life. It spiralled from there and no effort to try and get over you has succeeded.”

“Mmm you mentioned,” Aaron hums. “I must say, I’m a bit jealous of these other dates you speak of.”

“Well you shouldn’t be,” Spencer says. “They didn’t hold a candle to you, and the few that made it past the first couple of dates knew that all too well.”

Aaron chuckles lightly at that before they settle into a comfortable silence, the TV still playing the background. “Do you want to stay here tonight?” he asks, voice low and a bit unsure. “No funny business, I just… don’t want to let you go yet.”

“Me neither,” Spencer says honestly. “Of course I’ll stay.” He can hear his voice still sounds a little squeaky, still vulnerable in this new situation. 

Aaron smiles back and turns the lights and TV off, blowing out the candles before offering a hand to Spencer as they make their way to his room. 

“Oh,” Spencer says, stopping in his tracks as soon as they step into Aaron’s bedroom. “I left my go bag in the car.”

“I’m sure we can find a solution to that,” Aaron smirks, pushing the bedroom door closed with his left hand and crowding him up against it with his right, diving for his neck. Spencer moans high in his throat, pressing forward further into Aaron’s hold. “You can wear one of my shirts. God, I’ve fantasised about you in my clothes for years, baby.” 

“So… so possessive,” Spencer teases through Aaron’s kisses.

“Yeah, you love it.”

“I do. I love you.”

That gets Aaron to pull away, looking deep into Spencer’s eyes, awe filling his gaze. “I love you, too. Fuck it feels so good to hear that, to finally say that.”

“I know.” Spencer’s blushing slightly, the forwardness of his remark embarrassing him slightly. 

“Come on,” Aaron says, pressing one final kiss to Spencer’s lips. “Let’s get ready for bed. I’ll find you a top and I know I have a spare toothbrush around here somewhere…”

Spencer smiles, sitting on the bed as he watches Aaron bustle around the room, finding the stuff he needs for the night. This could be it, he thinks. This could be my life now. Domesticity had never much appealed to Spencer, but sitting there now as Aaron chatters away about the visit to the shopping centre that has resulted in buying the top he tosses Spencer’s way, he knows he was right to change his mind. He was right to crave this, to crave pancakes for dinner and new TV shows and lazy mornings.

And when they’re finally cuddled up in bed, warm under the covers and safe in one another’s arms, he knows he was right to share that craving with Aaron. 

#criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds writing #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #hotchreid #hotch x reid