#he really said ‘i fell in love with dr. who for the bit’

[eqt-95]

I'm here to bring fluff and happiness back with this ♥️

ok so get this: my phone showed your ask as a red heart. so here I was, typing away about deep-throating popsicles and fingering milkshakes when I opened your ask on my laptop and saw a... white heart?! absolute witchcraft!

and since now i don't know what's right-side up from upside down, i offer a mash up: ❤️+🤍 or 'first kiss / realization' + 'kiss at the wedding / milestone'

p.s. thanks for the fluff and happiness injection. i needed it

- - - - - -

Kara loved going to weddings. What wasn’t there to love? There were flowers, delicious foods, endless dancing, and, best of all, that excuse to confess your deepest feelings in front of friends and family to the love of your life. 

She’d watched her sister and Kelly share their vows, commit to each other, and look darn good while doing it. She danced with Nia and Brainy to Bye-Bye-Bye which was technically of Alex’s no-play list, but Nia bribed the DJ. She stuffed her face with cake alongside Esme who was stubbornly fighting off the sleepies. She even had the most amazing pep-talk slash hug slash reveal with Lena.

The very best kind.

The kind that left her warm and seen and cherished.

The kind that left her wanting that same feeling for forever. 

The kind that felt like a Red Sun: held and understood and home. 

So why did she feel so… heavy and twisted inside?

Stumped. She was stumped. She was also in a slump. Her lower lip was quite close to a grump. But how to overcome this hump?

She shook her head. Now was definitely not the time for Dr. Seuss rhymes. Though silently she argued there was always time for Dr. Seuss rhymes.

Serious Kara won out. So instead of rhymes she stewed. She stewed and brewed and searched for a clue(d) -

“What’s up homie?” Nia asked, sliding across the bench and tipsily colliding into Kara’s side. “You missed REO Speedwagon. Even J’onn gave it his all; might’ve thrown out his back though. Poor guy. I am parched.”

Kara bit her lip and scowled and really really wanted a rhyme scheme to get her through this. “You love Brainy, right?”

“Woa, left field there swinger,” Nia smirked. Her attention was on the array of glasses with colorful drinks littering the table behind them. “Sure do.”

Kara slouched and let her chin find the palm of her hand. “So how did-”

“You think this is sour raspberry?” Nia interrupted, a cup of bright blue liquid appearing under Kara’s nose. “Or tropical punch,” she said.

Kara sniffed the cup. “Tropical punch.”

“Bonus,” Nia exclaimed and took a long drag. “You were saying?”

“Um,” Kara began without an ounce of heroic chutzpah. “How did you know?”

The question made the ‘heavy’ feeling morph into butterflies. It did nothing for the twisting. In fact, it exacerbated the twisting. It wrangled around her heart and made her breaths shallow with nerves. Definitely no chutzpah.

“Easy: He’s my person. My ride or die. To infinity and beyond. The Clyde to my Bonnie.”

“Are you sure that’s who you want to compare-”

“Look, it doesn’t matter. They went out with a bang,” Nia scoffed. “But fine, point taken,” Nia conceded then pulled another deep swig. “He’s the Orpheus to my Persephone.”

“I think you mean Eurydice.”

“Sure.” Her lips were now a faint shade of blue.

“But also, didn’t Orpheus fail-?”

“He did no such thing!” Nia proclaimed with rather unfounded enthusiasm. Juice sloshed onto the grass. “He went to the depths of hell for the woman he loved. He descended through souls and ghouls and fools-”

Kara wondered if this was the rhyme she needed. Maybe it was, because it propelled her up and across the lawn and so focused was she that Nia’s parting words of ‘Go get her, champ!’ fell of deaf ears.

She stumbled over lawn darts and accidentally destroyed a life-size jenga game. She nearly walked straight through the barn wall and into a decorative trough. She walked straight past the cake without grabbing a slice. 

Kara Zor El was on a mission.

And that mission was less than ten feet away, laughing and radiating like the sun rose and shone only for her. Her nose scrunched as the smile spread wider when Kara approached. It faded only slightly when the palpable look of fear on Kara’s face was noticed.

“Kara? Is everything ok?” she asked, stepping away from the group and brushing a reassuring thumb over Kara’s arm.

They stepped more steps until the steps led them to crickets and tree frogs and only the white noise of people. And ever the Pulitzer winning wordsmith, these were the words that managed to trip out of her mouth:

“I want to be your Orpheus.”

Lena’s mouth parted and eyes narrowed. “You… what?”

“I want to… shoot, no I mean…”

“You want to trap me in hell?” Lena asked. And bless the straight face she was trying to keep, but between Kara’s fish mouthing and absolutely butchering of whatever heartfelt words she had hoped would appear out of thin air, Lena’s face was doing some serious gymnastics to keep from smirking.

“He didn’t fail! He… he…”

Straws. Those were the things Kara was grasping for. Humiliatingly limp, paper straws.

“I want to fight off souls and ghouls and fools for you. I want the chance. I want you and the world to know that you are the person I’d move heaven and hell for you, because you make me feel whole. You make me feel seen and wanted and loved and I just… I just want you. And I don’t know why it’s taken me so long to realize it but I-”

Lips.

Soft lips.

Soft lips and deep sighs and the flutter of long dark hair tickling her cheeks.

And then a sigh.

And then a ‘wowzers’.

And then a laugh.

And then again.

- - - - -

ask game

#do you think Kara realized 'souls' doesn't rhyme with 'ghouls' and 'fools'? because i definitely didn't when i wrote this. #do i also have to google ‘pultizer’ every time i use it? yes. because i constantly confuse it with the ‘pritzker’ prize #what is a writer #rustingcat #thanks for the ask! #ask game #qs with quinn

[cloud-based-and-rainpilled]

Michael Sheen playing Aziraphale as cockhungry as possible VS the Good Omens fandom and Neil Gaiman and the Lord himself screaming for Aziraphale to be asexual

#aziraphale is asexual? oh. fucking watch me #u know aziraphale wouldn’t be this gay had it not been for him #‘cause he ships it for. 30 years #and is also physically incapable of not constantly shooting fuck me eyes at david tennant #my man put a kiss scene in his contract sksksksksk #good omens #good omens 2 #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable husbands #michael sheen #david tennant #i’m sorry ace enjoyers but he made his choice. interpretation and all that but. he chose gay and will fight to the death for it #the same man who has a haha just kidding unless blood oath with david tennant to work with each other #also he/him/his for the Lord because i think it sounds funnier #i think Himself should be capitalized but idc #also obvs it’s not the whole fandom who wants him asexual (i don’t lmao) #he really said ‘i fell in love with dr. who for the bit’

[sykokilljoyy]

secrets - wroetoshaw imagine

request: none! however it does kind of link to a few :p words: 1538 warnings: little bit embarrassing i can't lie. implied smut, allusions to sex, but generally just a lot of second hand embarrassment.

tl;dr: harry and y/n have been seeing each other for a while, but the secret's out when harry accidentally exposes some very intimate truths

“Come on, Harry,” Simon laughed, glee written all over his features. He holds onto JJ for support, who chuckled beside him.

“Boys, this is awful!” Harry‘s cheeks were burning, laughing along in front of the camera, which was setup haphazardly on the astro-turf football pitch.

“You said you would do it!” Ethan yelled playfully, holding his friend to his word, “At least give us odds.”

“Fine. Odds of 1-10,” Harry sighed.

It was just a stupid forfeit. He’d accidentally hit the goalpost and due to the rules of the Sidemen Sunday, he would have to do the next 3 penalties with his shirt off. It was the middle of January, so the bite of cold was nipping at his neck already, intruding through his layers of clothing.

“Bet,” Ethan giggled from behind the camera.

“Alright, boys,” Simon called, “3…2…1…”

“Six.”

“Six.”

“Fuck!” Harry cursed, a pit of nervousness pooling in his stomach.

The boisterous whoops and laughs from his friends helped to spur him on a little, but he had never been very confident in front of the camera, let alone topless in the middle of winter, outside the safety confines of his flat. A little part of him was beyond thankful that you were here, tucked behind the camera to help with filming. None of the boys knew, but Harry and yourself had been seeing each other in secret.

It started with just hanging out after filming every so often, grabbing lunch or rides home, just enjoying getting to know each other as a little more than acquaintances. This, however, turned quickly into a couple dates, which fell into long nights and messy mornings, legs tangled in his bed and hands reaching to wherever they could. Not that either of you were ashamed of the other, but there was a certain thrill of keeping it all under the covers that neither were fast to get rid of.

“Come on, Bog,” Ethan hollered. This triggered a wave of ceremonious chants, something along the lines of ‘get your tits out’ from his friends.

Sighing in defeat, Harry shook his jacket off hastily, presuming that if he just gets it over and done with, it’ll be less mortifying. Cheers continued until he was down to his last layer, only himself noting the memory of you wearing this exact t-shirt in his flat the night before, he tried not to think of the fact it still smelt like you.

As his lifted the shirt above his head, the blush dusted upon his freckled shoulders very visible, silence fell on the group. Now, it really wasn’t often that this hyper group of men were dead silent, but after seeing the litter of hickeys cascading down Harry’s chest, sensual scratches marking the skin of his back – a pin could drop and it would sound like something nuclear.

Behind the camera, you blushed deeply, pulling the hem of your hoodie to your nose to hide it. Your eyes followed the lines of the scratches on his back, the memories of the night before still more than fresh in your mind. Averting your gaze to the floor, you could feel your cheeks on fire. Luckily, your friends were all too distracted to notice.

“What?” Harry was immediately self-conscious at the unexpected reaction, pulling his shirt to his chest to cover himself. It was only when he caught a glimpse of something crimson, that it clicked.

“Oh fuck!”

Ethan was the first to laugh, a cackle that broke the shocked tension, the dam of silence bursting open as all of his friends jump to embarrass him.

It was a perfect overreaction, realistically it was only a couple hickeys and such, but as Harry had been historically private about his love life to his friends, this was an ideal opportunity to grill the youngest Sideman.

“Are you dating a vampire or something?” Josh joked first, earning a robust reaction from the group. Followed by waves of playful digs at the already embarrassed blonde boy, who was sheepishly pulling his shirt back over his chest.

“Who knew Harry was getting laid so much?” JJ was flabbergasted, playing up to the camera for a reaction.

“Seems like a very satisfied customer,” Simon chuckled, ruffling Harry’s hair – much to his discomfort, he pouted like a kid.

“Ask her yourself, isn’t that right, Y/N?” Josh chuckled.

He had only meant it as a joke. He had no idea of your relationship, only meaning to embarrass the boy further, as he knew Harry found you attractive.

However, when the pair of you froze like deer in headlights, your throat dry as you try and stutter a whimsical response, panicked eyes darting to each other for support, Josh’s eyes blew wide like dinner plates.

“Oh fuck, was it actually you?” All eyes were on you now, your heart pulsating loudly in your chest, waves of embarrassment hitting you. There was a reason you stayed behind the camera, the pressure of attention being directly on you made you crumble.

Harry knew that, so he spoke loudly to drag eyes back to him, now fully-clothed, “Yeah, uh, we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”

“I knew it!” Tobi called, turning to Simon with a victorious grin on his face.

“Fuck!” Simon cursed, “I said it was bullshit.”

“How did you know?” Harry asked Tobi, blush still tainting his cheeks.

“Harry, you practically can’t keep your eyes off her when you think no one’s watching,” this made you flustered, avoiding Harry’s dazed eyes.

“Fuck sake,” JJ interrupted, everyone turning to him as he fiddled with the camera, “Does that mean we can’t use any of this footage now?”

Chuckles rose from the group, but ultimately it was down to you and Harry to make that decision. His gaze found you, blue eyes laced with affection and a tiny bit of an apology for the embarrassment. Now that the cat was out the bag, he couldn’t care who knew. Of course, there was a terrifying reality of the fans reaction, but you’d been shipped so many times it seemed redundant by now.

“No, it’s okay, I don’t mind,” You smiled nervously, Harry looking at the football on the ground to hide his boyish grin, kicking it around a little at his feet.

Before everyone hopped back into recording the Sidemen Sunday, returning to their football forfeits, he made his way to you, whilst his friends were distracted retrieving the footballs that were kicked haphazardly across the pitch.

“You okay?” He asked softly, his cold hand ghosting over yours. The pair of you were used to keeping things out of the public eye, subtle glances, fleeting touches, whispers shared whilst no one was looking.

“I’m nervous,” You replied gently, feeling tense under his watchful eye.

“Don’t be,” His head dropped to kiss your cheek carefully, letting his lips linger on your icy skin, a safe way to reassure you that he was there.

It was only small; a gentle expression scratching the surface of his affectionate ways, but your heart skittered at the feeling of his hand playing with yours and his warm lips pressing against you. The strong scent of his cologne hit you at the closeness, the heat radiating from him in the bitter January air. You were still riding the coat tails of a silly schoolgirl crush as he pulled away, the exhilaration of being able to touch him outside the privacy of closed doors spurring you on.

Reaching up, you touched his cheek savouringly, leaning up onto your tip-toes and pressing a kiss to his lips. His hand slipped under your jacket and onto your clothed waist, pulling you towards him only lightly, smiling into the kiss once he felt the corners of your lips curl. Pulling apart, he hid his flustered blush by placing a kiss to your hairline.

“Do you want to get dinner after this?” You enquired hopefully, playing with the strings of his hoodie.

“Only if I can get a couple more of these,” Harry whistled playfully, pulling the collar of his jumper down to reveal the tender, crimson love bites.

“Harry!” You buried your face in his hoodie, embarrassment heating your cheeks promptly, his chest stuttering as he chuckles at your flustered reaction.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” He giggled, and you peeled yourself from his embrace, glancing over to see the rest of the group getting ready to film again.

“I’ll take you somewhere real nice, to make up for it.”

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Mr,” You punched his bicep lightly, pushing him away, back towards the camera setup, “Now, go film. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

He nodded, pressing a quick final kiss to your cheek before jogging away sheepishly, batting away the childish calls and digs from his friends.

You watched him happily, smiling at the way he carried himself, the light in his eyes as he joked and battled with his friends, an extra pep in his step as the secretive weight off his shoulders were lifted. He was finally able to care for you in public, to touch you, hold you, tuck the hair behind your ear and kiss you gently without worrying who would find out, and you the same.

It would be hard, when the video releases, and the audience would see the announcement, but you weren’t worried. As long as he was with you, you wouldn’t be scared.

However, you weren’t sure you’ll ever live down the hickeys.

#wroetoshaw imagines #wroetoshaw #wroetoshaw fanfiction #wroetoshaw imagine #creative writing #writing #wroetoshaw smut #wroetoshaw fanfic #wroetoshaw x reader #sidemen #sidemen imagine #ready #sidemen fanfiction #sidemen fanfic #sidemen imagines #behzinga #harry lewis fanfic #harry lewis fanfiction #harry lewis imagine #harry lewis smut #harry lewis imagines #harry lewis x reader #w2s x reader #w2s imagine #w2s #ksi #miniminter #tbjzl #zerkaa #vikkstar123

[midnightlizard]

hey, could you please do a Amelia Shepherd x fem!reader where the reader is jealous because of Edwards and Amelia reassures her that she only loves her etc...? (they've been together for about 3years)

Jealousy

Amelia Shepherd x gn!reader

Summary: when someone constantly tries to get at your girlfriend it can be irritating, very irritating, but thankfully Amelia doesn't care about anyone else.

Warnings: sexual talk at the end but nothing happens

A/N: I combined this with another request, ("Amelia Shepherd x reader where an intern keeps looking at Amelia in a OR and reader gets mad")

also because I don't write fem reader I changed it to gn reader

Word count: 1247

-

-

It happened again.

You and Amelia had another surgery together.

Which is great, you loved working with your girlfiend. You two operated on different parts of the human body so whenever the rare opportunity of working together presented itself, you always took it. This man had a puncured lung so you had to act quickly and asked the neurosurgeon to make sure the brain never stopped receiving oxygen.

What you didn't particularly like was working with someone else.

Amelia chose Edwards to work on this man with her, because of course she did. Your girlfriend was an excellent surgeon so you trusted her judgment and never tried to change her mind about her residents.

You just wish she did about this one resident.

Edwards wasn't bad at her job per se, but it just bugged you how her attention was half on your girlfriend and only half on the things she was supposed to be learning. It was highly unprofessional.

"right answer Edwards" Amelia chirped from behind her mask after the woman correctly answered her question.

"thank you, doctor Shepherd" you rolled your eyes at that, you were surprised at how she even got it right, since she never stopped looking at her face.

Your feet were starting to ache for how long you've been standing but thankfully the surgery was almost over. "Edwards how's his blood pressure?" of course, she didn't hear you. So you repeated the question.

"uh" she hesitated for a second, probably because the vitals weren't written in Amelia's eyes "110 over 70" she turned her head to look at you, as if she was expecting a scolding "it's good" she added.

"yea I know that, I'm a surgeon" you bit back, your eyes never leaving your patient's lungs. Amelia gave you a look from her spot behind the man's head, but said nothing.

After a minute of silence you breathed out a sigh of relief as you could finally take your hands out of his chest.

"forceps and gauze" you weren't talking to Edwards this time, since it wasn't her job to hand you what you needed, but when your free hand still felt empty after a second and you were about to yell at the intern, he frantically shook his head and pointed at the assistant, who held the tools in her hand, while talking to your girlfriend.

"Edwards!"

You raised your voice to the point even Amelia furrowed her eyebrows at the shift in your behaviour. It wasn't loud enough to be called unprofessional, you have seen much worse under Bailey's guidance. But you were never one to scream without a valid reason, especially in an OR.

The woman instantly whipped her head to look at you with widened eyes, while her shoulders visibly tensed.

"I don't know if you have noticed since you've been staring at Dr. Shepherd all this time" you vaguely pointed at her, your other hand never leaving the chest tube, keeping it in place between your patient's lungs "but we are actually in the middle of an operation. So I'd really appreciate it if you gave me my tools so I can close him up and go tell his family he survived."

You clenched your jaw when silence fell into the room right after your words, only now realizing the tone of your voice. But you didn't regret it, not really.

Especially when your hand was still hanging empty in the air.

Truth was, Edwards didn't hear you the first time and was afraid to give you the wrong tools.

"forceps and gauze." you repeated, your voice lower but still firm "now."

"right yea, sorry"

- - - -

Once his wound was properly sealed and Amelia assured you his brain was completely fine, you instructed your interns to take him to his room and keep an eye on him, and quickly stormed off.

Stephanie took her mask off and approached her mentor with the intention of apologizing for her behavior, but Amelia stopped her, and went looking for you.

She found you in the waiting room, talking to the man's family. "no need to thank me, I just did my job" she could only see the back of your head but she knew you enough to recognise the smile in your voice. "your husband is strong and he's going to have a quick recovery"

Your girlfriend stopped behind you without interrupting your conversation, and kindly smiled at the family as they walked away.

"okay what was that?" she searched for your eyes once they were out of earshot.

"what?" you run a hand through your hair, finally free from the surgical cap "people hug us all the time" and it wasn't a lie, but you knew it wasn't what she was referring to.

"no, not that" she shook her head and crossed her arms.

You opened your mouth while your eyes moved around the room, but the only thing that came out of it was a sigh.

You sat down on one of the chairs, looking up at her "I don't, I don't like Edwards"

"she's good at her job" Amelia didn't waste time defending her resident, but her tone wasn't aggressive.

"I know that, I know she is" you took a big breath, trying to find the right words. This whole thing has been bugging you for months now and you never said anything because you didn't want to sound controlling or irritating. But you couldn't hide it anymore.

"I don't like how close she is to you."

Amelia uncrossed her arms and slid her hands inside her pockets. She had a feeling of where this was going.

"She's fascinated by your work and by your mind and I get it, I love it too. And I get that she wants to learn so she assists your surgeries but she follows you everywhere."

Somewhere along your words, Amelia took a step closer and was now standing between your legs, looking down at you.

"Every time I want to talk to you she's always there, we can't even have lunch together without her sitting with us and asking you questions."

One of her hands came up to rest on your cheek to make you look at her "you're jealous of Edwards?" and despite the amused tone, her smile seemed gentle.

"You don't have to be, (Y/N)" she continued after a small silence "she's interested in my work and yes, she asks a lot of questions. But it's just that"

She saw you shake your head and took both of your hands in hers "and even if it wasn't, I don't care. I'm your girlfriend, not hers. You're my partner, she's not. I'm sorry if it made you jealous, but there's really no reason to worry. I love you, just you, okay?"

You softly nodded your head, and your smile quickly mirrored her own when she squeezed your hands "okay. thank you"

"of course" she muttered. Then she pulled on your hands, pulling you up "come on, I think we need to get our heads off of it and I know just the place"

You chuckled at her words and raised your eyebrows "you want to have sex in an on-call room?"

Amelia's smile never left her lips, if anything, it only got bigger "yes, and please stop acting like it hasn't happened already" she shrugged her shoulders and started guiding you to the room "besides, I need to show you who I stare at all day"

Amelia Shepherd Masterlist - Grey's anatomy Masterlist

General Masterlist

#greys anatomy #greys anatomy x reader #amelia shepherd x reader #amelia shepherd

[lordarsonizzzzt]

If you still want fluff, may I interest you with Clef, Bright, Kondraki and Glass with an S/O who carries around a handbag (bigger on the inside) that's filled with plushies and they throw said plushies on the doctors when said doctors are having a bad day

SCP STAFF WITH A READER THAT THROWS THEM PLUSHIES WHEN THEY ARE HAVING A BAD DAY.

CHARACTERS: ALTO CLEF, JACK BRIGHT, KONDRAKI, SIMON GLASS.(all platonic)

DR CLEF

✽ Today was shitty, to say the least. He had a lot of nightmares about her

✽ Today he was trying to be the funny asshole he always is, but he was more jumpy. If someone touched him and he didn't saw them he'll literally stumble back and his breath would quicken.

✽ He was now drinking some coffee, his lip a little bloody because of how hard he was bitting it. The moment he put his cup down and got up to go and do work he felt how he was punched by something.

✽ He looked down and saw a teddy bear, he took it and started looking around confused until he spot you.

✽ You were a Safe type SCP, a humanoid that liked to make people happy. You always carried around a bag similar to Santa's and would pull anything from it.

✽ He rolled his eyes but kept the plushie the whole day, he even ranted to it about the horrible soup and tried to give it sum soup so it could know that, it was indeed, horrible.

✽ Before he left he went to your containment cell with a little box, some rings and stuff in it. Inside your cell was a normal room, white walls with some red, yellow and purple paint sprayed on it, a bed, a desk with art supplies and a TV.

✽ He looked around and frowned when he realized you weren't there, which was weird cause your time to hang around the facility was over.

✽ He almost drops the box when you hugged him from behind and he stood still as a rock to then let himself relax in your embrace.

✽ "Hey kiddo, got you something, consider it a thanks"

DR BRIGHT

✩ He is always having a bad day, he's just good at hiding it.

✩ He was angry this time, well more of a mix of emotions. He just discussed things regarding TJ's situation with Mikell and his blood was boiling.

✩ He was close to just shutting off his brain and continuing his day as if nothing happened, to then unload in his house until he was hit with a plushie.

✩ He managed to grab it before it fell and he stared at it for a while, to then search around who threw it to him.

✩ He heard your laugh and it made him smile, you really were a nice addition to this site. Always running around giving people things, hugs, helping them.

✩ You never got too close to him tho, so interacting with you this first time was a new thing.

✩ He turned around to thank you but you were gone, he looked back at the plushie and then around to make sure no one was there. He hugged it hard and he let some tears drop, he thought of his little brother and how one day he will get him out of here and make him live a happy normal life.

✩ He named the shark plushie Thomas, and he lays in his in site dorm.

✩ He would try to hang around with you a little more, would become a father figure probably.

DR KONDRAKI

✿ He was having a bad hangover, he had a fight with Draven, he was close to getting into a physical fight just because.

✿ He spent most of his day in the cafeteria, drinking way too much coffee. He almost left when you came running from nowhere and hugged him, he froze.

✿ Yeah it was his idea that you roam free since you only want to make people happy, but it still was weird to have a SCP do that.

✿ You then pulled out something from your bag, and he almost laughed at the plushie.

✿ It was something in between a fat ferret or a fat cat, either way he loved it and when you gave it to him he smiled.

✿ "Thank you kiddo, how about I get you some apple juice hm?"

✿ Your fast nod was enough for him, he got up, ruffled your hair and went to get you some apple juice.

DR GLASS

✧ So this man doesn't have the greatest relationship with his family, today his mom called and they both had a fight over the phone.

✧ Everyone could notice that Glass was rather mad today, he would have to take a few second to answer so he didn't sound like an asshole.

✧ So everyone tried to not make that much contact with him, and he kept himself in his office just speaking to people when needed.

✧ He heard some knocks and he sighed, syaing 'come in'.

✧ So you came in, went over to him and handed him a tiger plushie, or something like that.

✧ He just started at it for a while, then he looked at you, then back at the plushie. He took it and mumbled a 'thank you'

✧ You stayed around in his office helping him until he felt better.

✧ At the end of the day, Glass was back to his normal self.

#scp x reader #dr clef x reader #dr kondraki x reader #dr bright x reader #dr glass x reader

[aziraphales-library]

Hi! I was wondering if you had recs for something longer that has a lot of exploration of queer themes? Love your blog!

Hello. We have #long fic and #queer themes tags you can check out. Here are some that have both...

The End is Where We Start From by tiresius (E)

“Aziraphale, hello. It’s er, been a long time.” “Yes, dreadfully long. You look different.” He immediately coloured in evident embarrassment. “I mean, of course you look different, as do I of course, I didn’t mean bad different, that is to say…” Something inside of Crowley, something that had been in a deep freeze for several eons, was starting to thaw. It was letting little bits and pieces of familiarity break loose to float back into their rightful places in his soul. One of those pieces, those round, blue eyes, suddenly snapped into place, and he felt a corresponding wave of long-forgotten feeling wash through him. Aziraphale is anxious. Make Aziraphale happy. “Yeah,” he interrupted. “D’you wanna… get a coffee or something?” *** Crowley and Aziraphale meet by chance on the street. They've met before, in their youth, in a different life. Some difficult things have happened since then. Will they be able to find their way back to each other and to themselves? A Good Omens human AU.

Orbit by altsernative (M)

"It was like they were in orbit with each other. Locked into their paths. Circling each other. Coming so close for golden snatches of time, then dragged away again. Again, and again, and again." Literature instructor Aziraphale and Astronomy instructor Crowley have been best friends for eight years whilst teaching at Agnes Nutter College, a subsidiary of Cambridge. If they ever wanted something more than that, well, they certainly hadn’t said anything. Just as they start to come to terms with their feelings for one another, Aziraphale is promoted to department head and out of Crowley’s life as part of the college's strict non-fraternisation policy. Neither is willing to give the other up, and with the help of a few familiar faces, a pub called Taddy’s that only plays four specific types of songs, Tracy, an enthusiastic B&B owner/community queer icon, and a hidden garden everyone seems to have forgotten about, they risk everything to try and find their way back into each other's lives once more.

An Absence of Stars by mllekurtz (E)

A.Z. Fell is a famous (well, in his circle) Soho bookseller whose selection of volumes is the epitome of respectable (and boring) literature. One of his favourite authors is the renowned science writer A.J. Crowley, whose books on astronomy have popularized the subject — and also sell very well. Mr Fell is overjoyed when Dr Crowley accepts his invitation to do a signing of his new book in the bookshop, but their first conversation is a disaster: for some reason, Crowley does not share Fell’s distaste for romantic literature and acts very cold when the bookseller berates the author of one of the most popular romance series of the moment, Madame Ashtoreth. Little does Fell know that his favourite writer and the one he hates with a passion are the same person…

I Knew I Loved You by AppleSeeds (E)

In September 1999, when his family gets connected to the internet, prospective Marine Biology student Crowley discovers an online forum where he can actually talk to people who share his passion for saving the whales. He begins corresponding with a kind stranger he knows only as Ocean_Angel, and is incredibly excited when the opportunity arises to meet this mysterious person in real life. As their friendship develops, Crowley shares things with Angel that he can't talk about with anyone else, and Angel's insights help him to explore and embrace his own identity. As Crowley works towards finding a place in this world where he feels like he really belongs, he realises that a big part of the answer to that question might actually be right in front of him. What if where he belongs is with Angel?

secondhand smoke by PaintedVanilla (T)

you're second hand smoke, second hand smoke i breathe you in, but, honey, i don't know what you're doing to me mon chéri the year is 1990, and anthony crowley is looking for a church in london that might be tolerable. the one he winds up attending isn't exactly such, but he decides to stick around for one reason. said reason happens to own a bookshop that crowley begins to frequent, much to the surprise and delight of anathema device and newton pulsifer, who seem quite convinced that crowley could use something else to focus on besides gardening, their campaigns, and visits to tadfield.

Sit Tight, Take Hold by nieded (E)

The summer of 2022, Ezira Phale is a rookie Formula 1 driver out to prove he's one of the best racecar drivers in the world, but everything gets turned upside down when he falls in love with his real-life idol, AJ Crowley. Or: The one where Crowley does not go too fast for Aziraphale. _____ This story uses a multi-media format with CSS and HTML. It's best read using the workskin so please make sure that you are enabling user workskins. If you do not want to use the workskin, I will also be posting a .pdf of each chapter and a final .pdf once everything is posted! I’m not so cool as to know how to do podcasts, manips, and videos, but this will feature scripts, news articles, text messages, tumblr, and race programming! So strap in and put your seatbelt on! This is going to be one fast ride of romance, competition, and over-indulgence.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #human au #queer themes #long fic #adult omens #mod d

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Before I Met Angels - Pt 1 - Then...

Pairing: Dean Winchester x Plus!Fem!Reader

Summary: Dean Winchester arrived on your doorstep with his cheap suit and the promise of a ghost-free future. Playing pretend love interest left you both with something a little more lingering than the ghost.

Words: 2.5k

A/N: This was born of a Nonny request for some oral smut and some insecurity/comfort (which is Part 2) but I couldn't not write the back story so here it is. I hope you enjoy.

Warnings: Canon-typical action/adventure, talk of ghosts and dead people, canon typical violence, profanity, some sexual tension, kissing, and a bit of softness.

***MINORS DO NOT ENTER OR INTERACT***

Dean Winchester had been in your house for over two weeks now, having arrived on your doorstep with his brother Sam after a handful of men in your town had mysteriously died.  It had started a little over two years ago with your boyfriend, Danny, who had died of a heart attack moments before you were going to sleep together for the first time.  Six months ago, other men who you had started dating or who had asked you out started dying as well, their hearts exploded in their chests.

When Dean showed up, it was in a cheap suit and an FBI badge, and the promise of a future without whatever was plaguing you.  It quickly became apparent that he and Sam weren’t really FBI when they started laying lines of salt around your house and carrying your old fire poker or your cast iron skillet around with them.  With talk of ghosts and other supernatural things, you learned that the Winchester brothers were hunters of those things that went bump in the night, guardian angels, if you will, for all who were afflicted by such things.

“I’m no guardian angel, sweetheart.  I’ve met some of ‘em though.”  He replied when you said this to him.   “They’re assholes, lemme tell ya.”

You had laughed but the concept of angels existing wasn’t something you had been prepared for.  But really, how could you be prepared for any of this?

Over the course of the first few days, Dean and Sam staked out your house, taking readings with a strange whining piece of equipment that Sam explained read ghost energy.  The prognosis: your house was haunted, but the ghost remained elusive.

“Maybe it only goes after people I want to be romantic with?”  You fielded, after a discussion about the house’s history.  “You said yourselves that all of the people who died of that exploding heart thing had been people I’d been dating or about to date.”

“You could have a point,” Sam said thoughtfully.  “So we just need to replicate that scenario.”

“You saying I got to get frisky up in here?”  Dean quizzed and you blushed, feeling awkward about suggesting he do something he clearly wouldn’t enjoy.

“I mean, I could…”  Sam began to offer but Dean carried on talking.

“Alright, I got this.”  He nodded at you with a smirk that you couldn’t read at all.  “Let’s get this done.”

He decided that snuggling on the couch would be a good start and see if that prompted the ghost to appear.  The first day, nothing happened, but Dean came back every evening and tried again.  Each night he and Sam came back around sunset and you made them dinner.  Each night Dean would sit back on the sofa with his arm around you and you would snuggle into him as you watched TV; Dr Sexy was his favourite show.  Sam waited either in the car or in a room upstairs as if he was a guest.

Gradually you two settled into a routine where small gestures of affection began to creep into your behaviours:  Dean would stroke his hand down your back to settle on your hip as he passed you in the kitchen, and you would absently touch his forearm when you spoke to him.  It only took a couple of days, but you completely fell under his spell – fake though your interactions were supposed to be.

You couldn’t deny the attraction you felt for him, he was way beyond anything in your league but every time he touched you he lit a fire in you.  Every soft smile, every glance, every time he held you against him on the couch at night was fuel for that fire.  He seemed to enjoy your company but he was just doing his job, simply acting out a role to bring an end to the whole haunting thing.  The haunting thing that didn’t seem to be happening, or so you thought until last night.

Curled up on the couch with Dean for what was the twelfth night in a row, you had started to fall asleep with his arm draped around you, his fingers drawing abstract patterns on the skin of your arm.

“This doesn’t seem to be working,” he said after the re-run of Dr Sexy had finished.  “I think maybe we need to kick things up a gear.  Whadd’ya say?”

You didn’t know what he had in mind but you were a little drowsy and so far in over your head that you simply nodded, receiving a bright grin as a reply.

“You tell me to stop and I’ll stop, okay?”  He whispered into your ear, his lips brushing against you as he nuzzled your neck, inhaling your scent just below your ear.  “Mmmm, you smell fantastic.”  He spoke at normal volume, clearly this was a show to get the ghost to present itself.

You sighed as he kissed your neck, and when his hand snuck under the hem of your top you stiffened, pushing a hand against his chest as if to stop him.

“Relax, sweetheart.  I’ll be good to you, I promise.”

You stroked his chest, feeling the firm muscles beneath and wondered how his skin felt.  When your fingers slipped under his shirt and danced across his bare abs he inhaled sharply, pulling back from his attention on your neck to look at you.

There was a hunger there in his eyes, and he leaned forward to kiss you.  You sighed as his lips met yours, so deeply absorbed in how he made you feel that you didn’t realise the temperature in the room was falling.  His tongue slipped into your mouth and he cupped your face to kiss you properly.  You moaned deeply, succumbing to the heat pooling down in your core.  It was so easy to believe this was real.

“Atta girl,” he whispered when he pulled back.  “You’re doing so well.”

“I’ve never been kissed like that before.”  You practically mewled.

“Well I’m going to do it one more time and then I’m going to ask you to follow me, okay?”

Anywhere.  You nodded as he pulled you to your feet and cradled your face in his hands.  His second kiss was consuming but still slow and measured.  He stroked his hands down your sides and up under your shirt, stroking the skin of your waist and back, and pulling you tight against him.

“I wanna have you so bad,” he said, breathless, resting his forehead on yours but very aware of the changes in the room.  “To be continued….”  He whispered, leading you up the stairs to the guest room where Sam was hiding.

“Dean!”  Sam yelled.  “Hurry it up.”

“I know, Sammy!”  He yelled back.  “We’re on our way.”

The air was charged with static.  You could feel it bristling the hairs on your skin like a bad thunder storm about to happen.  Ahead of you on the stairs, you saw Dean’s rear as he led you quickly by the hand.  Glancing behind, you saw a glitchy shape of a man which bore the face of your dead boyfriend, Danny.

“Danny?”  You couldn’t believe what you were seeing.

“It’s the dead boyfriend!”  Dean said to Sam as you both crossed the salted threshold of the guest bedroom.

“I thought he was killed by the ghost first.”

“So did we.”  Sam said with a frown, looking at Dean in confusion.  “And he was cremated already so what the hell are we gonna do now?”

Dean turned you to face him, tearing your eyes away from the ghost that waited on the far side of the salt boundary.

“Do you have anything of his that could be tying him to this plane?  Lock of hair?  Blood stain somewhere maybe?”

“I don’t know,  Maybe.”  You wracked your brain for anything you had kept of his.  “He gave me a locket early on in our relationship that I never really wore, but after he died I couldn’t just throw it away.  He said it was a keepsake but it’s just got a photo of us in it.”

“That’s got to be it.”  Sam said.  “Where is it?”

“In my bedroom.  Jewellery box.”

“I’ll get it,” Sam rushed to the door, “he’s after Dean, not me.”

Once Sam crossed the salt with his iron fire poker, Danny’s ghost attacked.  It knocked Sam against the wall, hard, and sent him skidding back into the room.  The line of salt was broken and Danny’s ghost came for Dean.

“Goddamnit!  You need to get outa here” Dean said, brows raised, almost begging.

“But he’s going to kill you.”

Maybe if you could reason with Danny, he would just leave.  Maybe if you asked him to move on to wherever ghosts went, that he would see you were ok without him.

“He’s gonna try.”  Dean scooped up his shotgun, pumped it and stepped up beside you.

“Danny, please listen to me.”  You tried to reason with the spirit of your dead boyfriend.  “You don’t need to do this.  Please don’t do this.”

The ghost advanced, paying little heed to anyone except Dean.  His eyes, so filled with malice and hatred, never left the hunter.  For a second, you thought maybe you could stand between them and be safe but the closer the spectre got, the more you realised that he was too far gone.  Unreachable.

“Run!”  Dean pushed you aside and lifted the shotgun, aiming it right at Danny’s chest.

You backed up against the wall and skirted along it as Danny advanced on Dean.  You had to find the locket, but what were you supposed to do with it when you had it?

In your room, you fumbled with the clasp on your jewellry box, dropping the box on the floor.  Chains and earrings spilled out, jumbling up together, snagging into a knot as you tried to pull Danny’s locket free.

The booming sound of the shotgun was deafening.  It was so loud you felt it in your chest cavity and the shock of it made you feel dizzy.  Dean could be heard goading the ghost, taunting it to come and get him before the gun went off again.

In the doorway, Sam appeared looking a little worse for wear.  You held the jumble of gold and silver up to him, panicked that you couldn’t separate them.

“What do I do?”

“We have to burn it.”

“I can’t separate them.”

“Then we burn it all.”

Sam snatched up the metal trashcan and you dumped the twisted clump on top of the paper.  A generous squirt of fuel and a book of matches later and the whole can was ablaze.

Danny’s ghost appeared, in flame, moving towards you as if to claim you but Sam pulled you out of the way as the last of the flames consumed the spirit, leaving behind whisps of smoke.

Dean was sat on the floor of the guest room, bruised and bashed but very much alive.  He gave you a grateful smile and a nod as he got his breath back.  When he stood he hugged you, rubbing both of your arms to soothe you, and kissed the top of your head.

“I think we got him,” Dean said as he stood on your porch ready to head back to the motel for the night.  “But if it’s alright with you, I wanna do one more night to make sure we haven’t missed anything.  Tomorrow?”

You had thought you would never see him again once your haunting was taken care of, but when presented with an opportunity to spend one more evening cuddling Dean Winchester, how could you refuse.  The thought of being alone that night was overwhelming but you felt pathetic asking him and Sam to stay with you.

“I think that’s a good idea,” you smiled weakly, hoping you didn’t seem too needy or too eager to have his hands on you again.  When he had kissed you, it had made you burn with desire for him, and now you couldn’t let go of that heat.  The memory of ‘to be continued’ played whirligig in your stomach.

“Alright, sweetheart.  We’ll see you again tomorrow.”

Dean stepped off the porch and down into your yard before you crumbled under the weight of your emotions.

“Wait!”

He and Sam stopped and turned, Dean looking at you with worry, Sam with sympathy.

“Would you stay with me tonight?”  You felt embarrassed to ask, but the words were out now.  “I don’t want to be alone.”

Dean shuffled his feet, looking at Sam somewhat awkwardly before returning his gaze to you.  His smile was strained, as if he didn’t know how to let you down gently.

“Tell you what,” Sam cut the silence, “I’ve got some research to do anyway, and we missed a call from Jodie, so I’ll head back to the motel and I’ll swing back around tomorrow and pick you up.”

“Sounds like a plan.”  Dean patted Sam’s shoulder and followed you back into the house where you both settled on the couch as was your routine.

The sound of the TV blended into the background, secondary to the steady but quick thu-thump of your own heartbeat and the whoosh of your pulse in your ears.  The couch was soft beneath you, perfectly contrasting the firmness of the man you were partially wrapped around.

Dean looked down at you, catching you looking up at him from under your eyelashes.

“If you keep lookin’ at me that way, that ‘to be continued’ is gonna happen a lot sooner that you think.”  He said with a cocksure smirk.

You grinned, reaching up to slide your fingers over the stubble of his cheek, guiding him so you could lay your lips on his.

Dean sighed through his nose as he delved into your kiss, his arms slipping around you to hold you tight against him.

Whatever chemistry you two had generated over the past couple of weeks was sure to fizzle out once you’d both gotten it out of your systems.  Him acting like he was interested in you, all the affectionate touches he had coached himself to give during that time, the closeness you both had engineered over that time.  It was all bound to drain away, but in the meantime you closed your eyes and succumbed to the desire burning in your chest that told you to have him while you could.

And as Dean sunk himself into you on the soft couch with the TV playing Dr Sexy in the background, you didn’t care if it was just one time, you didn’t care if he would be gone tomorrow, or the next day.  As he sighed your name and made you feel amazing, you knew you would keep this memory forever.  The night you loved your guardian angel.

Read Part Two...?

#dean winchester smut #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x plus!reader #dean winchester x plus reader #dean winchester fanfic #dean winchester fic #dean winchester x you #spn #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester on the hunt #cloudy's writing #dean x reader

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Remember You Even When I Don't (4)

Summary: A training accident, the doctor had told him. A nasty one that led him here, laying in a hospital bed with a splitting headache and an inability to remember the woman sitting beside him. What he did know, though, was that you were the most beautiful woman he had ever seen, and you felt important to him. That, as it turns out, would become an understatement.

Words: 4.2K

Pairing: Bradley Bradshaw/Reader (no use of y/n, so can be read as unnamed oc)

Warnings: angst, hospitals, memory loss, language, eventual smut

Notes: The response for this continues to blow me away. Thank you all so much! Hearing your thoughts about these two makes me so happy and is so encouraging to write a little bit faster. Please continue to comment and reblog, and my inbox is always open! I love to talk about these two :)

This was inspired by a one shot by the lovely @roosterforme and would not exist without her assistance. If you haven't read any of her stuff, please check out her masterlist - you won't be disappointed! All of the thanks to her and @mak-32 for being the best cheerleaders and friends I could ask for!

Buckle in, folks!

Part Three

--------

Dr. Anderson came in the next morning and Bradley did his best not to glare too harshly at the man, remembering the way he had spoken to you. Your dejected face popped in his head and he had to take a deep breath to calm himself down. 

He asked a lot of the same questions he had the previous day, and Bradley responded with a lot of the same answers. 

His ribs ache, but he was able to get up and walk to the bathroom without needing the nurse who hovered beside him in case he fell. 

His head hurt, but not as bad. The dizziness has improved, and the blurred vision has gone away. 

He doesn’t remember anything new.

You sit quietly in the room as Dr. Anderson takes note of all of it. He goes through the motion of shining that stupid light in his eyes, pressing down on his ribs, and checking on the details of his vital signs throughout the night. 

“You’re healing quite nicely, Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw. The scans from yesterday show that the swelling in your brain has continued to go down since your accident. We’ll want to continue monitoring the skull fracture you sustained over the next few months, but as of right now it looks okay. Despite the memory loss, I would say you’re well on your way to being healthy,” the doctor explained. 

Despite the memory loss. It was said with such casualness, like there wasn’t four years of his life that were missing. 

Like they had been doing for the last three days, Bradley’s eyes strayed to you. You had a pensive look on your face and you were twisting your rings around your finger again. You looked like you wanted to ask something, but were hesitating. He felt anger at the doctor again for making you feel like you couldn’t do so openly, but he pushed it down. He called your name softly, your eyes instantly meeting his. He sent you a smile he hoped conveyed his encouragement. His breath stuttered when you just seemed to know what he was trying to say as you turned to the doctor. 

“Do you know when he’ll be able to go home?” 

Bradley had been wondering the same thing, but hadn’t gathered the courage to ask. 

Dr. Anderson didn’t answer right away, scrolling through his tablet, before setting it down with a sigh. He glanced at you before turning back to look at him. 

“Lieutenant Commander-” 

“I’m not the one who asked.” The words came out before Bradley even really thought about them, just like they had the day before. His urge to protect and defend you was instinctive; he wondered if it had always been like that, even before he knew you the first time. 

“Apologies,” Dr. Anderson said, a forced smile on his face before he turned to address you directly. “Mrs. Bradshaw,” 

Mrs. Bradshaw. It still knocked him back. 

“Like I said, his scans are good. He’s healing nicely from surgery, and his lungs sound good after the scare they initially gave us.”

It felt like there was a but coming. You must have picked up on it as well, as your eyebrows furrowed and you asked the doctor just that. “But…?” 

“I’m not a psychiatrist,” Dr. Anderson began, “but I don’t want there to be long term ramifications of that on your ability to get back in the air. You’re already looking at being grounded for 3-6 months as the fracture in your skull heals. I’d like you to have a psych eval before you’re released, Lieutenant Commander. Just to ensure going home at this point in time is the best move for you. Too much too fast could be detrimental to your career.” 

“This is about his ability to fly?” you demanded, your voice harder and more incredulous than Bradley had ever heard it as he was still trying to process what the white coat was actually saying to him. It seemed you were quicker on the draw. “Shouldn’t the main concern be his 

health? Wouldn’t re-familiarizing himself with his regular surroundings be helpful in potentially jogging his memory?” 

“Like I said, ma’am, I’m not a psychiatrist. Psychological evaluations in cases like this are completely normal.” He turned back to Bradley then, “If they give the okay that you’re fine from a psychological standpoint to go home, then we’ll get you out of here in the next day or two. If they advise staying in the hospital for a little bit longer for us to monitor you, then that’s what I’ll have to advise as well.”   

The Navy was more concerned about his ability to be eligible to deploy. The realization should surprise him more than it does. 

He cleared his throat and shook his head of those thoughts, focusing instead on the next steps. 

“We’ll get you scheduled for one this afternoon, if you think you’re ready.”

Bradley nodded, agreeing that yes, that was fine, and Dr. Anderson said that someone would be in to speak with him soon. He glanced at you, but didn’t say anything before he left the room. 

Bradley took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as he leant his head back against the pillows. 

“Are you alright?” you asked, and he turned his head to meet your eyes. 

He didn’t really know what he was feeling, but he knew that looking at you made him feel a little bit better. He shrugged. You toyed with the ring on your finger, and he could almost see the wheels turning in your head. 

“It’s whatever you think is best for you,” you finally said, “they don’t get to make that decision for you, okay?” 

The lump that formed in his throat appeared seemingly out of nowhere. You were protective of him, too. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything in return, but he hoped the smile he gave you said enough. 

It was a few hours later when there’s a knock on the door. An older woman walks in, with stern facial features and her blonde hair pulled back in a tight, low bun. But her eyes were kind and there was a friendly smile on her face. “Afternoon, Lieutenant Commander. Mrs. Bradshaw. My name is Captain Garcia - I’m one of the psychiatrists here.” 

Bradley’s spine straightened automatically, but Captain Garcia held up a hand. “At ease, Lieutenant Commander. No need for a salute from your hospital bed.” 

He relaxed back into the bed, listening as Captain Garcia explained that she was here to do his psych eval, which Bradley had assumed.. She turned to you, “You’ll have to leave the room for this, Mrs. Bradshaw. Protocol.” 

“Of course,” you said, already gathering your phone and your wallet. Like he did the night before, Bradley found himself reaching out to grab your hand before you could walk to the door. When you looked at him, he didn’t quite know what to say. He forced a smile onto his face and let you go. 

“I’ll be back,” you murmured, your voice low and just for him. 

“I can give you a call when we’re done if you’d like,” Captain Garcia spoke, taking note of the exchange. She held up the navy blue file folder in her hand, giving it a gentle shake. “Your contact information is in his file.” 

You gave him a gentle look, and it was almost like you found what you were looking for in his eyes, because you took a step closer to him and leant down to press a kiss to the top of his head. His skin flushed, and his heart raced. You didn’t say another word as you stepped back and left the room, closing the door behind you. 

The evaluation was similar to all the other psych evaluations Bradley had in the more than a decade he’s been in the Navy. He went through questions about the path and trajectory of his career and previous missions he’d been on. He answered her questions honestly, trying to treat it like any other conversation with someone who outranks him. She was kind to him, too, which was refreshing if not a little odd. 

Finally, though, like he knew she would, she bridges the topic that’s been at the forefront of his mind for the last three days now, and what he’s sure is one of the main reasons she’s speaking to him to begin with. 

“Four years is a long time to forget, Lieutenant Commander. It seems there were some big changes in your life during that time.” 

“I think that’s putting it mildly, Captain. Wouldn’t you say?” 

She huffed out a laugh, but nodded. She set her pen down and crossed her legs, her hands clasped over her knee as she looked at him expectantly. “The advancement and movement in your career is one thing. That’s familiar to you, I'm sure. Something you always expected. But tell me about your wife.” 

His wife. 

“She seems….nice.”

Captain Garcia raised an eyebrow at him, saying without words that his answer wouldn’t be enough. 

“I didn’t anticipate her,” he amended, “but I can..I can almost feel her, if that makes sense?” 

“Assume that it doesn’t.”

Bradley sighed. He mulled over his response, trying to figure out how to articulate what it was he was feeling. He had never been good at explaining his emotions, and this mess inside of him was more jumbled than it had ever been, a tangled web of anxiety and confusion and a weird sense of longing and something that felt deeper than that, even. 

“I know her. I have no memory of her here,” he said, tapping his head. “But it’s like I instinctively know who she is and that I..care about her, I guess.” 

“Do you feel attracted to her?” 

Of course he did. She was beautiful. It was his first thought the first time he saw her. She maybe wasn’t the type of girl he would normally go after, back then. She didn’t seem like the type who would fall for his normal lines or charms, and he admittedly wasn’t always the best at the chase when there were plenty of women where that wasn’t necessary. He wasn’t proud of that. But you were enrapturing. Captivating. Unlike any other woman he ever met, every other person he’d ever met, and he still wasn’t quite sure what to do with that. And it wasn’t just outwardly, either. Warmth and caring seemed to radiate from you from the inside out. 

“Yeah,” he said simply. Captain Garcia looked at him, almost knowingly, but this time didn’t push for a longer answer. 

“Going to a home you don’t remember might be a lot for you,” she said instead, “do you think you’re ready for that?” 

It was something he had been asking himself for a few days now, but especially since it was mentioned to him this morning that going home might be an option sooner rather than later. And truthfully, he didn’t know. The last home he remembered was a small DC apartment, if he could even call it that. It was practically a shoebox where he slept and ate; that was about it. But the thought of going somewhere, especially to the home the two of you shared, with you…it terrified him, but it excited him, too. 

“I don’t know,” he answered truthfully, sorting through his words carefully, “but I know that…I trust her? As confusing as that is. And I guess the thought of being around her is less daunting than being in a hotel room or base housing on my own.” 

“That makes sense to me,” she said, continuing on with saying that exposure to things that are familiar, even if he doesn’t remember them right now, could jog some memories. There’s no guarantee of that, of course, but it might. She cautioned of being mindful of his emotions and not pushing himself when he felt overwhelmed. 

Something clicked in Bradley’s head as she spoke to him. “Does this mean I get to go home, then?”

“If that’s what you want, Lieutenant Commander, I don’t see a reason why you shouldn’t.”  

_____________

The next afternoon, he watched the scenery pass by as you drove, taking it all in. He wondered if the two of you ever took walks down these sidewalks, or if you were friendly with your neighbors. Does he mow the lawn in the summertime? Do you have him outside stringing Christmas lights in the winter? It’s fall now - do you hand out candy on Halloween, or keep your porch light off while you go out with friends for the holiday? 

The two story house you pull up to is bigger than he anticipated. It’s at the bottom of a cul de sac, tucked slightly away from the other houses here. The driveway led up to an attached double garage, and he could see a dark brown wooden fence lining the backyard on the sides. You open the garage door and his heart skips a beat when he sees his blue Bronco parked inside. Maybe it was the familiarity of it, or his deep connection that he’s always had to it, but he breathed a sigh of relief when your crossover SUV glided into park beside it. 

You turned the engine off and pulled the keys from the ignition, sending him a small smile that looked nervous. 

“Home sweet home,” you said softly. He returned your smile with just as many nerves. He stepped out of the car at the same time you did and helped you grab the bags from the trunk, ignoring your fruitless attempts to stop him. His ribs were broken, not his arms. 

His pulse picked up when you opened the door to walk into the house itself, but he followed behind you diligently. It led into a laundry room, and he toed his shoes off in the same spot that you did. Turning the corner, he was met with a large kitchen that opened up into the living room. The sectional sofa looked comfortable, and there was a huge rug underneath the coffee table. 

It was a beautiful home, he thought. The decor and furniture gave everything a homey feel. Instinctively, he knew you had taken the lead on everything in here. He had never had a flare for design that was obviously implemented here. 

He decided that he liked it. 

Bradley felt something brush against his ankles and let out a startled laugh when he looked down and saw a cat winding her way between your legs. He knelt down to the ground, pleased when the brown tabby nuzzled her head against him. She purred softly, raising to put her front paws on his bent knee. 

“Hi there,” he cooed,  “you must be the infamous Florry I’ve heard about.” 

He scratched behind her ears and pet her soft, soft fur. He had never considered himself a cat person, only having a dog for a few years while growing up, but he immediately fell in love with the little feline. After a few minutes of petting, Florry seemed to have enough, and slithered away from him like she had completely lost interest in his presence. He couldn’t help but laugh. He stood back up to his full height and looked in your direction. 

You were looking at him with adoration and longing written all across your face. It seemed to take you a moment to realize he was looking at you, and that flush that he was really starting to enjoy spread across your cheeks. He smiled at you to try and ease your embarrassment. 

He was finding he didn’t mind you looking at him, because he was enjoying looking at you, too. 

“She’s cute,” he commented, stuffing his hands in the front pocket of his Navy hoodie for the simple purpose of having something to do with them. 

“Yeah,” you said, “she knows it, too.” 

Silence settled over them, and after a few moments, it started to feel heavy. Stifling, almost. 

“Can I-“

“Are you-“

You both started speaking at the same time, stopping and starting again. You laughed awkwardly, and Bradley motioned for you to go first, his face hot.  

“Are you hungry?” you asked, “I can throw something together?” 

“I could eat.” 

“Anything you’re in the mood for?” you asked, already moving to the other side of the kitchen, “Nat stocked the fridge and pantry for us this morning, so there are plenty of options.” 

“Whatever you want,” he said, not wanting you to go to any trouble specifically for him. “Anything will taste better than hospital food. I’m sure you…know what I like?” 

That wasn’t the best thing to say, he realized. You paused, looking back at him over your shoulder, “Yeah.” 

This may be the most awkward conversation the two of you have had, and Bradley didn’t know how to recover from it, so instead he cleared his throat and gestured to the living room behind him. “Is it okay if I look around?” 

Your face softened and you nodded. “Of course. This is your home too.” 

You turn back to observing the contents in the refrigerator, and he takes that as his cue. He walked further into the living room, trying to determine where to start, when a frame on a shelf one of the built-in bookcases caught his eye. He stopped in front of it and felt that familiar pang in his chest. His parents' wedding photo was sitting there, right next to a photo of the three of them together when he couldn’t have been more than three years old. A picture of him and his mom from his high school graduation was next to it, and his father’s formal photo in his dress whites was at the end. The shelf seemed like something of a dedication to them, and he couldn’t help but notice how it was so prominently on display, when he had almost always kept them tucked away. 

He moved throughout the house, observing every nook, cranny, and picture on the wall. He looked at photos of the two of you, waiting for a memory to hit him. He paused when he got to a room on the second floor, realizing it must have been your office. He sees your journalism and political science degree on the wall, and there was a collection of photos pinned up on a corkboard above your desk. It was the solitary framed photo near your computer monitor, though, that got him out of the doorway and moving forward. He picked it up gently, almost cautiously. 

The two of you stared back at him, though you weren’t looking at the camera. He was in his flight suit and you were in his arms in a short floral dress. Your arms were tight around his neck and your feet weren’t touching the ground from how he was holding you. Even from the side view the camera was capturing, he could see that the two of you were smiling into the kiss you were sharing. 

He could almost feel the collision of your body against his as he lifted you. He thinks he might have spun you around in his excitement to see you. 

His heart is racing in his chest, yet he feels a peace settle over him at the same time. He’s starting to believe this is his natural combination of reactions to you. 

He’s still standing there holding the picture when you appear in the doorway, knocking against it softly to get his attention. You're backlit by the hallway light, and he realizes the sun has gone down outside. He must have lost track of time. 

“Dinner’s ready.” You don’t look like you’re upset to see him in your office, so he assumes this room isn’t one that’s normally off limits for him. 

He turned the wooden frame toward you. “Did I just get back from deployment here?” 

You stand up a little straighter from where you’d been leaning against the door frame. You nodded your head slowly. “Yes. Do you remember that?” 

He looks back down at the picture. He can taste something like coconut, and he wonders if that’s the flavor of chapstick that you use. He can’t really conjure the whole scenario in his mind, though, no matter how hard he tries. 

“I don’t know,” he sighs, setting the picture back down, “Just a feeling, I guess.” 

When he looks at you, you’re playing with your ring again, and your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth. You release it and smile when you meet his eyes. “A feeling is a good start.”

The two of you eat dinner together, seated at the island in the kitchen instead of the table. Even if you claim it’s just a simple pasta, it tastes better than anything he could have ever made for himself, and definitely better than anything the hospital had to offer in the last week. You tell him how you didn’t learn to look until you moved out to California, because your parents had sent you a gift certificate for a cooking class. You snorted into your bottle of water when you explained how your mother said it was step one to being married. 

“Jokes on me, though, because I actually like to cook.”  

He finishes his food and wishes he had room and the energy for a second, but his ribs were hurting him again and his head was starting to ache. He had done a lot of moving around today between physical therapy in the hospital this morning to journeying home. 

You pick up your plate and his, setting them in the sink before sliding him his pain pills you had picked up for him at the hospital pharmacy. 

He hadn’t even needed to tell you he was in pain. 

He sits in the quiet for a little while, watching you clean up after dinner. He had offered to help but hadn’t argued with you when you gave him a pointed look and told him not to move. You move around the space with ease, and it’s over sooner than he expects. 

You’re giving him a nervous look when you finally stop, the island a distance between the two of you as you stand directly across from him. 

“I’m going to sleep in the guest room tonight.”

The words take a moment to process through his mind, but he startles once he registers them. He finds he wants to argue with you about it. There’s no need for separate bedrooms. You were his wife and he was your husband and wouldn’t the normal thing be for the two of you to sleep in your shared bed? 

It’s odd, and he wishes he understood why he felt that way. He chews the inside of his cheek, struggling to figure out what to say. His lack of response must have made you nervous.

“I’m so happy you’re home. Please know that. I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else. But I think…I think it would be better for now. For both of us,” you admitted, so quietly that he almost missed it. 

For the first time, he second guessed his decision to come here. But he knows that in all reality, this was the best decision for him. And he knew you knew that and believed it too. 

But it also hits him, then, how hard this must be for you. 

This is the home the two of you have shared for almost the entirety of your marriage, where you’ve created memories together that he currently doesn’t remember. But looking at you closely now, standing here in the place you should be the most comfortable, he can see how maybe the reality of his situation was finally crashing into you. 

He wishes he could comfort you, somehow. But he has a feeling stepping forward and wrapping his arms around you like he so desperately wants to do would only make this worse. 

“You don’t…” he stumbled over his words, stopping to take a deep breath of defeat. “I’ll take the guest room,” he settled on, “You’ve been sleeping in a chair for over a week for me. This is…this is your home. Sleep in your own bed.” 

Hurt flashed in your eyes, and he realized how his words sounded when it’s too late to take them back. 

Your comment from earlier echoed in his head. This is his home too. That’s his bed, too. 

He wants to apologize, but you start speaking again before he can. 

“I’ll get you some of your things” you replied, giving him a quick smile that he knew was forced, already moving toward the stairs. He watches you go, wondering how he had only been back in this house for a few hours and had already messed up with you. 

----------

Part Five :: Series Masterlist :: Main Masterlist

Notes: AHHHH!!! He's home!!! And it's definitely going to be an adjustment. I hope you liked this one! The next part is one of my absolute favorite things I've ever written. I'm excited to get it finished and posted!

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#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw #top gun fanfiction #tgm fanfiction #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #rooster fanfic #rooster x reader #Bradley bradshaw fic #alli writes #Bradley bradshaw x female reader #rooster imagine #bradley bradshaw angst

[sycamorelibrary754]

Guardian Angel

Chapter 6: Compound Living

Summary: Your recovery continues in the Avengers Compound. You open up to Wanda about your past and have a heart-to-heart that may lead to something more for the both of you. 

Warnings: None

Word Count: 2.5k

A/N: Sorry for the delay! The next chapter of Guardian Angel will most likely be posted after the holidays. I hope you enjoy!

Guardian Angel Masterlist

If you had to stare at another cup of jello, you might just scream. After being stuck in the Med Bay for two weeks, you were craving something sweet from the shop. You were surprised that the food wasn't better given that Stark could have brought up filet mignon if he wanted to. You were extremely grateful that you were finally leaving the Med Bay today, even though you weren't going far.

Wanda would be here shortly to help you move into her old room in the compound. The redhead had been coming to visit you almost every day when she wasn’t at home with the boys. It was the highlight of your day when she walked through your door and brought some much-needed color and personality to your plain old Med Bay room. 

Every moment spent with Wanda you learned something new. Her childhood and the happy memories she had of Pietro, despite the struggles they faced growing up in war-torn Sokovia. She waxed poetically about her parents. How her father would bring home American sitcoms that she fell in love with while simultaneously learning English. The Chicken Paprakish her mother lovingly prepared.

Despite all the information you had learned about her and everything she knew about you, you still felt like you were holding back. You couldn’t miss the look she gave you when Dr. Cho said she couldn’t reach your parents, but you were too scared to mention the kiss you had shared when you first woke up after the accident. You feared that Wanda would dismiss it as a mistake caused by your shared vulnerability. However, you knew you couldn't avoid it forever.

Dr. Cho and Banner entered your room, interrupting your thoughts. "You're all set," said Dr. Cho, handing you your discharge papers and aftercare instructions. "Remember, your first follow-up appointment is on Friday."

“Thank you both so much. I'm really grateful,” you said, choking up.

“Okay, who’s ready to bust out of this joint?” Wanda announced pushing in a wheelchair.

Oh great, my driver is here," you joked, wiping your eyes before Wanda could see. "Will you ever stop treating me like a baby? I've made significant progress in my recovery thanks to the cradle.”

“Not a chance,” helping you shift from the bed into the wheelchair. 

*^~^*

“Steve, Bucky, and Sam are at your apartment getting your stuff and Natasha should be back from the Candy Bar any minute with an update from Harper on the shop,” rolling you down the hall and into the elevator. “Because you can’t just rest and let yourself heal, you have to be a workaholic,” Wanda mumbled. 

"I have never missed a day of work, not even when I had a fever of 102," you proudly declared.

Wanda sighed and said, "I'm sorry Y/N, but I don't think that's the kind of flex you think it is.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Maximoff," said FRIDAY.

“Oh, my God!” You exclaimed. “Who is that person?” If you could stand up from the wheelchair, you would have.

"Relax, it's only FRIDAY," Wanda said as she laid a hand on your shoulder.

“What?”

“Tony's AI interface is integrated into every function in the compound and can provide assistance with any needs.”

“I notice that you have a guest, Ms. Maximoff.”

“Yes, FRIDAY. This is Y/F/N Y/L/N. She’s going to be staying with us for a bit in my old room.”

Welcome Ms. Y/L/N. Please let me know if you need assistance.

“Hi FRIDAY, it’s nice to meet you too.”

“She’ll be your new best friend,” Wanda joked. 

“Stark really can do anything,” you said.

The elevator stopped as FRIDAY announced your arrival in the living quarters. Doors opened to a stunning common area, leaving you speechless. Needless to say, it was much nicer than your apartment.

"Welcome to the common room and the kitchen," Wanda said, as she led you through the room. "We usually keep some late-night snacks in the fridge, and if you ever need something sweet, I can show you where Clint keeps his stash of chocolate," she giggled.

"This is amazing," you say, your eyes wandering around the room.

“What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. I mean, you hear rumors about the Avengers Compound, but you don’t know if it’s true. Oh my god! Look at that plasma screen TV! A Ps5!” Squealing like a little kid. 

“Yes, when they're not working, you'll find the boys and some of the younger ones gathered around that ridiculous thing.

“I want to play!” 

“Y/N, you only have one good arm.”

“So, I could still play! Call out moves,” you pleaded as Wanda rolled her eyes.

“Tony’s lab is down that corridor to the left. He’s usually in there tinkering away at all hours of the night until Pepper comes and gets him.” Wanda continues to roll you down a separate hallway, “Team bedrooms are down this way.” 

You passed a few doors before coming to a stop. “This is my room,” gently opening the door and pushing you inside. 

“Wow, Wanda, this is awesome.”

If you walked in a forest at first light, if you let the awakening green hues into your soul, that would be the sense that was her bedroom. There was a calmness, a serenity, a feeling of optimism. The same feelings you felt whenever she was in your presence. 

“Thank you. It’s not as fancy as some of my teammates' rooms, but I loved it,” helping you out of the wheelchair and onto the bed. “I did my best to make it my safe space. So no matter what was going on outside, no matter what happened out in the field, I could come home and find my peace of mind again.” 

“That’s beautiful, Wanda.”

As you looked up, Natasha called out "Knock knock" from the doorway.

“Reporting back from the Candy Bar, boss,” Nat said walking towards you.

“Oh God, I’m almost afraid to ask.”

“Relax, everything is fine,” Nat said as she sat down on the edge of the bed. “That Harper girl has the shop running like a well-oiled machine.”

Thank goodness, you exclaimed. "Do we need anything? I could place an order from here," you said, reaching for your phone.

"Y/N, you shouldn't be working. Your number one priority should be your recovery," Wanda interrupted.

You simply grumbled at her response before turning back to the Black Widow. 

“I called Harper and let her know you were coming. Is there any chance she didn’t fangirl over you when you arrived?”

“If you consider knocking over a jar of jelly beans and dropping some kid’s ice cream on the floor keeping her composure, then sure. She was very composed,” Natasha said. 

You ran a hand down your face, imagining your best friend's clumsiness. You said, "Thank you, Natasha. I owe you one. I have been going crazy not being there. It was a relief to have someone in there to keep an eye on the place.

“No problem, Y/N,” patting your leg. “Oh, and one more thing,” bringing her other hand out from behind your back. “I brought you back a little something.” Holding up a bag from your shop. “Harper told me what you liked. The first rule of compound living - guard your snacks or they will be eaten by one of the boys,” handing you the bag. 

“You’re the best! I’ve been craving some sweets from the shop,” taking the bag.

“I know,” Natasha smirked. “Second rule of compound living - I know everything.” 

“It’s true,” Wanda confirmed. 

“Delivery!” Sam called out as he walked into the room carrying a couple of boxes with Steve and Bucky trailing behind with boxes of their own. 

“Wow, did you pack up the entire apartment?” Nat teased.

“We wanted to be prepared for every eventuality,” Bucky said. “We weren’t sure what Y/N would need.”

“Wow, thank you so much, you guys,” you said. 

Steve said, "We'll be happy to help you unpack after our meeting with Hill," placing down the boxes.

I'll come with you guys," Nat said. "See you in a bit, Y/N.

“Bye,” you waved. 

Wanda fluffed the pillow behind your back before sitting down on the bed next to you.

“Comfortable?” 

“Yes, very much so.”

“Is there anything I can get you?” 

“No, I’m alright for now,” a small yawn escaping your lips.

“I should let you get some rest,” rising from the bed.

“Wanda, wait,” placing a hand on her arm. 

She turned back toward you, her face curious. 

There's something I need to share with you. It's the reason why I'm here, recovering away from my family," you say, your gaze fixated on the soft comforter. "You see, my parents and I are not on good terms. We're estranged.”

Wanda’s face softened at the admission. 

“My parents founded Onyx Petroleum in California in 1978. They're not exactly Tony Stark rich, but pretty close. Growing up, I always felt resentful towards them - they were never the kindest people in the world, and their wealth and status just made it worse. But once I started researching climate change and the impact of fossil fuels on our planet, everything changed. It was disgusting to see the sheer amount of pollution that Onyx Petroleum, one of the world's top five most polluting companies, was responsible for. And yet, despite all of this, they still don't seem to care even an iota. It's just not right.”

Wanda's calming hand on your thigh pulls you back into the present moment as you take a deep breath.

“Throughout my entire childhood, my parents never failed to remind me that one day I would inherit and run the family business. When I turned 18, they presented me with a legal document that would bind me to take over the company as the Chief Executive Officer after completing my college education. The mere thought of it was enough to make me feel physically ill,” you look down at your lap as you recount the painful memory. "I remember the day I told them that I would rather live on the street than work for their business," you said softly. "I had always dreamt of doing something that aligned with my values and passions, and I knew that working for them would compromise that. But they didn't take it well. The very next day, they cut me off and kicked me out of their lives. It was as if I had never existed to them." Your voice cracks a little as you finish your sentence, and you take a deep breath to steady yourself.

"Oh Y/N," she said, gently placing a hand under your chin and tilting your head up. Your eyes glistened with tears that threatened to spill over.

“I moved in with Harper,” wiping at your eyes. “I funded my college education using the savings I had accumulated over the years and pursued a degree in entrepreneurship. Upon graduation, I took a leap of faith and established the Candy Bar with Harper. It has been the saving grace of my life," you breathed out, feeling a sense of release from the burden that had been weighing you down.

Wanda didn't respond immediately. As you looked up, you saw tears shining in her eyes. "I am grateful that you trusted me enough to share all of this with me. I am so sorry that this was your reality."

“It was a long time ago. I’ve built a life and a business that I love, and I don’t think about it for the most part. But, when I heard Helen say that she couldn’t get a hold of my parents after the accident… I don’t know,” you trailed off.

“I understand that the accident must have brought up some painful memories for you. Trust me, I know firsthand how much courage it takes to face such buried trauma," she said, placing her hands gently on top of yours. "You're an incredible woman, and it's a shame that your parents aren't here to witness the amazing person you've become.

You nodded silently before meeting the gaze of the redhead. Those beautiful green eyes caught your attention once again.

“If you ever want to talk about this I’m always here, or I can talk to Bucky about introducing you to Dr. Raynor. She’s a terrific therapist.”

After thanking Wanda, you thought the conversation was over, but you could see her contemplating something. "What's wrong?" you asked her.

Oh, nothing. Nothing’s wrong. I just… I’ve felt so guilty about what happened between us after you woke up in the Med Bay,” struggling to get the words out. “I felt like I took advantage of you and how vulnerable we both were in that moment.”

"Oh, thank God you finally said something!" you exclaimed, relief washing over your voice.

“What do you mean?” A look of confusion on her face. 

"I felt the same way, but I was too scared to say anything. I've been wanting to bring it up for two weeks, but I was afraid you would dismiss it as a mistake in the heat of the moment," you rambled. "Then I thought maybe the reason you weren't bringing it up is because you did think it was a mistake, and I didn't know--" Wanda cut you off by placing a finger over your lips.

“Shhh…”

You didn’t realize that you were out of breath. 

"I like you, Y/N. It's the first time I've felt this way about anyone since Vision, and it scares me. From the moment I saw you in that cafe, I haven't been able to get you out of my mind, and then when I saw you in that car..." She started to choke up.

I know," you reassured her. "I haven't stopped thinking about you either. When I woke in the Med Bay and you were there," reaching up and stroking Wanda's cheek, "I knew I was going to be okay.

Wanda leaned into your palm as her eyes met yours.

“It wasn’t a mistake, Wanda.”

“No, it wasn’t.” 

As she leaned forward, you could feel your heart racing with anticipation. Suddenly, her lips met yours again for the second time. It was a soft and tender kiss at first, but then you felt Wanda's hands gently cup your face, pulling you closer to her. You could sense a deepening urgency in her touch as her lips moved against yours with a newfound passion. In that moment, you forgot about everything else - your worries, fears, past, and future. All that mattered was the intimate moment you were sharing with Wanda. When you finally broke the kiss, your eyes met and you both knew that you had found something special in each other.

*^~^*

After their meeting, Steve, Bucky, and Sam kept their promise and returned to help you unpack. When Steve knocked on your door, there was no answer. Upon slowly opening the door, he discovered that you were sound asleep on the bed. Your good arm was wrapped around Wanda, who was peacefully dozing while snuggling up against your chest.

“Should we wake them?” Sam asked. 

"No, let them sleep. We can start unpacking the boxes," suggested Steve.

You woke up a couple of hours later with the afternoon sun shining on your face. Wanda stirs slightly next to you.

"Hi," you muttered wearily.

"Hey," Wanda said while stretching and looking up at you.

“I guess we fell asleep.”

“It’s lunchtime. You should eat something. Let me grab you some food,” she said, looking at her watch.

“I'll come with you. I'm tired of being cooped up in rooms.”

As the two of you sat up in bed, your eyes widened in surprise as you took in the state of the room around you. You couldn't help but notice that all your belongings had been carefully unpacked and placed in their proper places, giving the space a neat and organized feel. The room was adorned with delicate fairy lights that cast a warm, inviting glow around the space, while a beautiful bouquet of flowers sat proudly on the coffee table, adding a touch of elegance and charm to the overall decor. It was evident that someone had taken great care and effort in decorating the room, and you couldn't help but feel grateful and touched by the thoughtful gesture.

“Um, can FRIDAY unpack boxes?” you asked

Wanda smirked and said, "I don't think she can." Then she added, "In case it isn't clear, I think the team likes you too, Y/N."

“Wow,” you were completely amazed.

#guardian angel #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda x reader #natasha romanoff #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #avengers compound #avengers x reader #mcu #comfort

[zombiekillerbiceps]

Aftercare

Notes: thanks for the request anon! I decided the aftercare was going to go both ways. Hope this is fluffy enough for you 🥰

Content: 1k words, 18+, aftercare, implied rough sex, LeonxReader, g/n reader, fluff

You stared up at the ceiling, trying to catch your breath. Leon laid down next to you with a huff. His breath was still heavy, his eyes closing with post-release drowsiness. You took a moment to take him in. His blonde hair was falling into his face, gently outlining the sharp angles of his cheeks. His lips were parted slightly as he panted for air. You admired his aquiline nose, so straight and strong, but most of all, you loved his eyes. Light blue and usually so serious, it seemed sometimes like these moments were the only times he ever looked soft.

One eye popped open and he looked at you, grinning.

"What?"

You felt yourself giggling, "that was a lot of fun."

"Yeah?" He propped himself up on one shoulder, pushing the hair out of his face. His biceps curled as he supported his weight and the usually straight lines of his shoulders sagged as he relaxed. He almost looked like a painting. Narcissus or something.

"Yeah," you agreed. He leaned down and kissed you softly. Sweetly. When he pulled away, those blue eyes were so serious again. "How are you feeling?"

His hands were warm as they traced your body, gently tracing where bruises and bite marks were forming. A bite mark on your shoulder was deep enough to draw blood, and it looked like bruises were already rising on your thighs in the perfect shape of his fingertips. You reached up and took him by the jaw, tilting his head towards you so he could look you in the eyes.

"I enjoy all that stuff, you know." You reassured him. You knew sometimes he got scared of his own strength. "Even when it hurts, it feels good. I know you'd never really hurt me."

His fingertips brushed your cheek, eyes softening again.

"You're avoiding the question," he said. You smiled up at him.

"I'm pretty sore. Tired. A little bit overwhelmed I mean... Babe five times? Five times."

"Would have been more if you'd let me," he flashed a cocky grin at you. Then he sat up, breaking the moment of comfortable afterglow. You sighed. You should probably use the washroom, get cleaned up and all that. You went to stand, but your legs shook, refusing to support your weight.

You fell into Leon who supported your weight like it was nothing. His hands held your elbows while you steadied yourself. He helped you to the washroom where you cleaned up a bit, and when you swung the door open again, he was there waiting with your fluffy housecoat.

"Babe, you didn't have to..."

He wrapped you up in it. When you were all cozy, he wrapped his arms around you and nuzzled into you. He was so warm, so comfortable. He took your hand then and walked you into the kitchen, where he sat you down on a chair.

He pulled the little first aid kit from under the sink and then produced a tube of polysporin from that. He dabbed a bit of the white cream onto a q-tip. You pulled down the shoulder of your housecoat. He wiped the bite mark off with an antibacterial wipe, then applied the polysporin.

"Thank you, Dr. Kennedy," you teased. He didn't say anything. He just smiled up at you softly, then returned to doctoring your battle wounds.

"Do you want an advil for the bruising?" He asked as he packed up the first aid kit. You hummed a negative. He tossed the first aid kit back under the kitchen sink and then crossed over to the freezer. You raised your eyebrows in a question, then almost squealed when he produced two tubs of ice cream.

"Babe is that... No way." You took a tub from him greedily, reading the simple label. "The honeycomb ice cream from that mead place! You didn't have to go so far out of the way just for me."

"Just for you? No, c'mon, these are both for me."

"Over my dead body," you snapped it away from his lunging grasp. You brought your feet up to his hips, holding him off while you stretched your hand as far from him as possible. The chair rocked backwards. His reflexes never failed. He braced himself against the table with one hand, catching your chair with the other. His tub fell into your lap.

You looked at each other, then burst into laughter while he pulled the chair back into place.

"My hero," you teased.

"Grab us some spoons and meet me in the living room," he says, still smiling at you.

You oblige, gathering your fluffy house coat around you. You pulled the last two clean spoons from the drawer and meandered into the living room at an easy pace. He was lounging on the couch, sweatpants and a faded t-shirt hugging the form of his body. One arm outstretched as he flicked through the options. He saw you and opened his other arm, beckoning you to lie with him. You do, resting your full weight on him, knowing he can handle it. Both tubs of ice cream sit on the floor, cracked open and within easy reach.

"Can we watch something funny?" You ask.

"Have you heard of Always Sunny?"

"Ew," you scrunch your nose, "I hate that show. Do not."

He laughed and conceded.

"How about the Simpsons?"

"Okay! But only before s-"

"Before season eleven, I know."

You hummed happily, comfortable in this domestic moment with him. Your hips still hurt, and you were still tired, but the ice cream and classic Simpsons raised you from your sub drop. He stroked your hair, the two of you content in each other's company. By the end of the first episode you were feeling much closer to normal again.

"Thank you for this," you eventually mumbled around a mouthful of ice cream.

"Thank you for always reassuring me. After. I just... Need to hear it sometimes," Leon replied, kissing the top of your head.

"I know." You leaned your head up to him, giving him a kiss. It tasted like cream and honey and sugar. "I love you."

"I love you too."

#re4r fanfic #re2r fanfic #resident evil fanfic #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy imagine #resident evil fluff #the Always Sunny joke is a reference to that egg in a trying time meme thats popular i thought i was being cheeky #as always if you liked this consider reblogging or leaving a comment! #this was so fun to write someone gimme more fluff #the honeycomb ice cream is based on ice cream my husband buys me when I'm Big Sad or menstruating and it's the best thing I've ever had #so I'm sharing my honeycomb ice cream with you reader

[foolishlovers]

hi, i’m going through it with uni right now (finals season rip) and was wondering if you have any recs for some really soft, tender fics that will remind me of the good in the world 😭 maybe with some soft smut too, preferably over 20k if they’re out there and i’m happy with non au or au whatever. just need something comforting yknow. hope you’re doing well :)

oh hello love, i feel your struggle and am sending you lots of strength!!

here are some of my favourite softer good omens fics:

[You can request more fic recs here.]

Caramel Delight by AJ_Constantine (E, 16k) After years of enduring hellish neighbours, Crowley is delighted when they finally move out, and even more delighted when their replacement is easy going, friendly, doesn’t leave his bins on the kerb for weeks, and… attractive in a way that causes a fluttering in Crowley’s midsection like a battalion of butterflies attempting to form ranks. Crowley knows that hooking up with the person who lives next door to him is a Bad Idea. But a jar of his Nan’s famous caramel sauce as a ‘welcome to the neighbourhood’ gesture couldn’t hurt. And what’s he supposed to do when Aziraphale continues to show up at Crowley’s door with an irresistible smile, asking for more?

Liquid Gold by smolalienbee, Tarek_giverofcookies, Sodium_Azide, fashioncriminal (T, 36k) Goth beekeeper Crowley starts a new life in the countryside, in a suitably gothic house, with suitably goth furniture, tombstones, and bees. One day Crowley finds a surprise singing to the bees. And Crowley's suitably goth life changes. A gentle cottagecore human AU, featuring a bit of a bastard, a bit of a soft touch, and many many bees.

First Class (Hons) Christmas, University of Tadfield. by heloluv (M, 41k) Dr. A.Z. Fell is a renowned literature tutor at the prestigious University of Tadfield. December is upon the University, and Dr. Fell is leading the Christmas Charity Drive. He needs volunteers. Dr. A.J. Crowley is a skilled plant ecologist who recently began his tenure at UoT. He can't stand Christmas, and nothing at all could ever possibly convince him to partake in "festivities". Until a certain literary expert catches his eye. A Christmas and New Years fic, in which Aziraphale teaches Crowley how to enjoy the most wonderful time of the year. Lavender Apiary Of Your Honey Eyes by snek_of_eden (E, 62k) The first thing Aziraphale registered was fiery red hair matted with sweat. The second thing was the man’s face, sharp and intelligent and a little guarded, sunlight dappling a spray of freckles. Upon seeing this, two contradictory thoughts crossed his mind: ‘Gosh, he’s pretty’, and ‘I don’t believe I’ve ever heard a man use that many expletives in the space of a minute’. “Oh,” he said, swallowing hard. “Hello, then.” When Aziraphale inherits a small, cosy cottage in the countryside, he finds unexpected company in a gardener he didn't even know he had. Crowley is sweet, and strange, and about as foul-mouthed as you can get. Before he knows it, he's falling pretty goddamn hard for a man whose friendship he's terrified of risking. Ah, the foils of love. (To the surprise of no one, they're both pining extraordinarily hard for each other)

and now all of my garden is grown in lavender by ilikeblue (E, 70k, WIP) Popular queer romance author, A.Z. Fell, has been lying about having a husband and a happy marriage for years. Longing to escape a string of failed relationships and looking for a fresh start, Aziraphale moves into the cottage left to him by his Great Aunt Agnes. When a TV adaptation of one of his books leads to sudden popularity and throws him into the limelight, his fans (and the press) are eager to catch a glimpse of Aziraphale's own mysterious leading man. Unfortunately, he still has to cast someone for that role. Enter the handsome gardener… Under Crowley's meticulous care the cottage's neglected garden slowly comes back to life, and Aziraphale finds himself writing the most important love story he'll ever write: his own

you know i'll never be lonely (you're my only one) by SylWritesStuff, ladydragona (E, 256k) Anthony Crowley has long since given up on love of the romantic sort. Besides, after the tragic passing of his cousin and her husband he now has a preteen pup to care for. If only the courts and social services would quit assuming a single, unclaimed omega isn't competent enough on his own to raise one, things would be going just fine. Warlock's problems at school aside. Aziraphale Fell is an accomplished author, bookshop owner, and does quite well, if he should say so himself. Love might have conveniently passed him by and the nights can be quite lonely, but he'd rather be alone than not be himself. And the thing they're both longing for might just be each other.

[you can find more fic rec masterposts here]

#i know u said preferably over 20k but caramel delight is just too sweet (ha) not to mention here 💜 #i do have tons of more fluffy recs for fics under 20k :( #i feel like the longer fics get the higher the potential for angst gets u know #but i hope you'll maybe find some rest reading one of these 💜 #good omens #good omens fic rec #good omens human au #good omens fanfic #aziracrow #aziracrow fanfic #gomens fic #aziraphale x crowley #anon #answered #foolishlovers #foolish recs #go fic masterpost

[carrickbender]

Sunday 7-

I had 2 drs appointments on Friday, one of which was a CT that was supposed to help figure out why I have so much pain in my right testicle(TMI). It saw nothing, so now we get to keep guessing. Boss told me to "take weekend off", but was doing the morning orders/teams call every day between 5-7, trying to fix stuff and do reconciliations. Glad they trust me with this, but wanna give a 'high five' to my imposter syndrome telling me im gonna get fired any day.

- had to take Henry to urgent care on Saturday, and it turns out he has the start of pneumonia. Wanna give a big shout out to the ARNP who told me she really thought he should just 'ride it out' after 10 days of awful coughing and that their kids 'were still in it after a month'. Yeah, the PA said there was no way he wasn't leaving without antibiotics. Made me feel like an asshole parent... he's on day 2, and already more of himself.

- I went back up there today for me, and I have pretty severe bronchitis. He put me on a different antibiotic, more steroids, refilled my inhaler, and actually listened to me. I mean, I appreciated his care and actual concern. Fun situation: while I was there, a tree fell across the powerlines and tripped off most of town, so they had to go to back-up generators. There was a hall full of people, in a brown out, that the staff were managing like pros. Seriously, we are lucky to have that place.

-after today, I have 4 payments left on my car. 4. I think we will wait till June, and then it's 4 door vehicle time. The lunabug is getting taller, and we want to go see my dad/stepmom in Eastern Wa in something that has space. Everybody and their dog has sent me one of those damn, "interested in a new car loan? It's OK to check your rate, and won't hurt your credit" messages and as soon as my credit union chimes in, I'm sure we'll have something to talk about.

- speaking of something to not talk about, I learned a new term and joined a subredit today called 'dead bedrooms', and yeah, checks out completely. I don't have a therapist yet, so it's not a bad sorce of info or me trying to figure out what I have messed up(apparently, yet again).

- so I had to stop at Walmart(yay for small business destruction by a corporate giant!) for meds/a few groceries and this dingus in an f250 with a WA st license plate celebrating wrestling decided he needed to back into a compact space that was in front of me. He almost hit the first car on the way in(who had to stop and back up), but then he literally backed his 'not a farm truck but a penis extension' into the compact space in front of me, and thanks to me backing up knowing he would have been sticking out if I didn't, he took 3 feet of my spot and his hitch was literally 4 inches from hitting my car. In my space. And that entitled piece of shit didn't even look to see how close he was, he just walked away like he was the king of backing up. Look, I have no problem with wrestlers, but the only one who matters in my life is John Irving, and I think he would have been sensitive enough not to be a shit bird like that! (Part 1 of 2 rant)

- I wanted to share a thought or 2 about something I've seen going about on here for a little bit, because I think i need to say avfew things:

I love that I have so many people I follow here who take stances for the poor, marginalized, POC, and other underrepresented communities-not just in a perfunctory way of saying 'I support you'; but quite a few of you are actually involved in helping bring about change and strengthening communities by being unselfish hands that help heal hearts- you inspire me to be a better person, really. As a person of faith, I see you doing the work that many faith leaders of old spoke of when they talked of when they said, "serve as you have been served, and love as you have been loved"- and seeing that faith in action, it has made me read more about liberation theology and revisit the works of the Rt Rev Bishop Desmond Tutu, Dietrich Bonhoffer, and Dr Martin Luther King jr(and of the later, 'Why I oppose the war in Vietnam' is just as relevant now as it was then). I thank you all for this inspiration and work.

But what I have really come to realize about myself is that I am a person of privilege. I am a white CISmale, straight, accessed a good education at a young age, had a huge extended family that helped raise me when my mom had me at 17, have never had to worry about my gender causing me to be looked at differently, have a good job(for now), have access to clean water, don't live in a food desert, and save for the fact that I understood discrimination at a very young age thanks to my last name, I know that I have lived a mostly privileged life.

But there is one privilege I will never take for granted, and that's voting. And yes, I don't always vote my conscience because at heart, I am a democratic Socialist. But I always vote in my local and state house election because it is in places like your local school board or your city council where you can stop the spread of groups like 'Moms for Liberty' or any of the other neo-fascist organizations that seek to change education or change for the worse how cities deal with their population experiencing homelessness. If I stay home from these elections, I feel like I'm spitting on my great grandmother's grave(whose name I found on the voting roll of the first year that women could vote in Basin, Montana). I feel like I'm not being a good parent or a community member for sticking up for my sons right(or other kids rights) to read books in the school library that have a rainbow(let alone letting kids see representation for non-traditional families that are just the same as everybody else!). So please, if you're feeling crappy about the election, this right here is the biggest way to affect change if you don't know where to start or affirm.there is something you can do to really make a difference. Don't see enough representation of POC on your city council, especially in multi-ethnic communities? Hear a trans voice that would make for a great representative for all people? Fill in those boxes, act locally, and get those folks elected! It works if you work it!

I hear a lot of voices talking about Joe Biden these days, and I feel numb and angry about a lot of things that have been done in our names too: I hate HATE what is happening in Gaza(PBUT); I hate our support of Saudi Arabia and the proxy war in Yemen; Our jaunts in Zaire and Jordan; I hate that we are no closer to universal Healthcare, but I understand that that road and others lead through a Republican congress. I love that child poverty is declining, but programmes that were designed to make this a reality are sunsetting. We have a barbaric and truly archaic policy on immigration, and every time(that's not hyperbole, either), every goddamn time a good bill has been proposed to deal with the issue, the bill has been met by the xenophobic forces on the right and their deep pockets fueling the media and it is destroyed out of fear. And let's not forget student debt forgiveness, the continued dismantling of public education by states like Texas and Florida, Our goal of dismantling of the prison industrial complex, the protection of reproductive healthcare, and the dire need for nationwide police reform.

Yes, our laundry list is long, but it is full of necessary things that need to change or be codified in order for a great change to happen for generations and the continuatonof this great experiment called the U.S.A.

And for all of this and more, I ask: where are the leaders of our generation on this? Where are the ghosts of John Lewis, of Paul Wellstone, and of Shirley Chisholm? Thankfully, our leaders and the ghostsbof their forebearers are there- they are doing their best, and thankfully we(those of us on the progressive side) are represented by POC women who will go to the mat for these issues and more, being inspired by those who came before them. But the more that I think about it, it's time that we offer an ultimatum: we'll give you our voting block, Joe. We'll help bring along the majority of the 9 million new voters who are coming of age this year, so you will have a supermajority with which you can put forth truly transformative legislation. Sure, you'll get us- for now. But if it's businesses as usual, if we are not knocking over the tables of the money changers, and if we are not investing more in programmes of social uplift than we are for the military industrial complex, then we strike. Not in 2028, as one of my absolute favourite people on here suggest, but in 2026, in early summer. Because it is people like me, those of us who have know privilege and continue to know it, who are finally waking up to the truth that we need to do the work. We need to do the heavy lifting. I'm willing to make that offer, and I hope I'm not alone, because there either needs to be a change in the way our political system operates, or we walk away and start our own political entity. I hope I'm not alone in the way I feel, and I hope that we can all make the proposition. We have the leaders, we have the people, now it's about courage. It's time.

But for today, if you can pull the lever for democrats nationally, I totally get it. But consider what I said about voting locally, and in local races and elect people who represent your values. It matters.

- ok, rant over: if you made it this far, know that I love you all and I hope this week brings good things for you. Remember what Pete Seeger always said: "Take it easy, but take it". Much love yall!

#me #this is my life #exhausted #singer songwriter #henry adam #washington state #in repair #democratic socialism #radical feminist safe #POC safe #we are one in the spirit of reform #time to dream it up again #Spotify

[ready-to-read7]

Rottmnt Raph x (emotionally sensitive) reader (part 2)

A few minutes later Mikey runs back into the room and says that the vase is no longer on the floor, Raph thanks his little brother, and he then starts walking towards the living room, you were at this point clutching onto Raph not wanting to let go.

You felt very safe in his arms, it felt like nothing could hurt you while he was nearby and that was comforting to you, you calmed down a little bit and realized you were already in the living room.

Raph attempted to put you down, but you refused to let go, and instead of trying to forcefully put you on the couch he recognized you wouldn’t let go so he decided to sit on the couch with you on his lap.

Mikey then came with a large blanket and gave it to raph who wrapped the blanket around you.

A few minutes later Your heartbeat and breathing slowly started to calm down and reach a more normal amount, once you completely calmed down you looked up at raph who was talking to Donnie about possible ways to calm you down not realizing that you were already calm.

You quietly call out his name, once he hears your voice, he immediately looks at you and is absolutely thrilled that your panic attack has subsided, he hugs you tightly squishing you a little bit, and you whisper” raph your hugging me to tight”. he quickly loosens his grip around you and places one of his hands behind your head.

Raph then looks at you still with concern in his eyes and asks” Sugarplum can you please tell me what happened that made you fear the sound of breaking glass, if you’re not comfortable telling me I understand, I’ll be there when you’re ready to tell me”.

You look at him and gesture for him to bring his ear ( or whatever they used to hear stuff) closer, he brings his head closer and you whisper to him “I don’t want to say it out loud, but you can tell you’re brothers if you want”, “I used to have a abusive ex and one of the things he used to do quite often was throw water glasses and glass pots at me”.

Raph was absolutely shocked to hear this, he could honestly not believe that someone would do such a thing, especially to a person like you, he was filled with rage, but you didn’t notice because your head was down, because just mentioning it brought back bad memories. But his brothers clearly noticed, they all went behind the couch where Donnie was standing and quietly Asked what you told him, he quietly whispered exactly what you told him, they were shocked to hear this and Mikey immediately got very angry.

Mikey then quietly told you “Hey reader if you don’t mind I could set up a few therapy sessions for you with Dr. Feelings or Dr. Delicate Touch ( I honestly do not remember which one is an actual therapist)”, raph then also said “ and if you’re not comfortable talking about it alone I can sit with you during the sessions”.

You looked up at Raph and then looked at Mikey and nodded agreeing to the therapy sessions, you had already gone to therapy for it before but it didn’t really help all it did was teach you how to ignore it, and get over your ex.

After a few minutes of silence Leo says that they should probably go get something to eat and asks you if you want anything specific, you ask for (your favorite food), and Leo goes to order the food.

You then start to snuggle into raphs chest, happy that you had a loving and caring partner who cared about your feelings and safety.

Very comfortable and tired you slowly start to fall asleep, once you fell asleep raph notices and smiles, he then whispers while getting closer to your face that he will make sure no one ever hurts you again and then kisses you on the four head. He then whispered sleep well I will wake you up when the food arrives and then holds you tighter trying to make it clear to you even though you were asleep that he would always be there for you

Part 1

#rottmnt x reader #raph x reader #rottmnt raph #rottmnt raph x reader #tmnt x reader

[inconspicious-random-thoughts]

My theory is that Mimzy was once Alastor’s best friend, he maybe even thought he might have been in love with her at one point, in that manner aroace people who don’t know they’re aroace often do, that she was then sacrificed by this cult, and that Alastor had them infiltrated and taken down every member of that cult over decades, losing more and more of himself each time as those he killed grew less and less directly connected to the crime, “sorry you just got in my way, maybe I enjoy it just a little bit does that make me insane”, but that in the act of doing so, that contradiction of righteous intent and pure depravity, along with whatever ritual for power the cult had initially started upon, let’s say in honour of Roo (the root of all evil in the Hellaverse, a character yet to be introduced), and that on Alastor’s eventual death, he then found himself in Hell all-powerful, and set about bringing down those Overlords beneath his power continuing this moral code, until he hit a wall, finding himself having ended all Overlords less powerful than him / otherwise came to his senses on meeting Mimzy again and finding her to have gone to hell, recognising that “weren’t you an old pal of mine” and really nothing more and deciding mere power, entertainment is all he now desires. But that still, out of obligation, that he must kill Lucifer, the Devil, for a sense of completion, while still being allowed to exist himself afterward. Which leads to whatever deal he ended up trapped in seven years before the events of the series, and him getting Charlie to make a deal with him to “harm no one” at a certain point in the future: to ensure that when the time comes that he will be able to kill Lucifer, and the one person able to stop him won’t be able to. To really make Alastor a true Exterminator, more measured, the embodiment of how the road to Hell is paved with good intentions.

My first message on this blog! Everyone feel free to do so. I be happy to heart thoughts or possibly give opinions or disscussion.

That's interesting. It keep overlooking the concept of cults when I theorize. I just slips my mind its a thing. I wrote something about Vox and someone mention him being a cult leader, and I have to admit....it makes sense. He fits cult leader material perfectly. The charisma, the hypnotism. "Trust us..." Which, would an added layer to their rivalry of Vox recognized Alastor as the 'notorious cult member killer' from decades before his time to fit your theory.

I personally headcanon the reason he was so powerful when he fell was voodoo. I haven't done a 30 minute research for me to flush it out tho. But based off my very poor memory of Disney the princess and the frog...Alastor was into Voodoo while alive.

Been mention through the show, "His voodoo magic." And maybe, his voodoo aided him to be a successful serial killer. Basing Dr. Facilier to Alastor, (remember my memories are sketchy) and my non existent knowledge of voodoo,he sold his soul already to someone in Hell while he was alive to perform voodoo, and his body count counted to the demon he sold his soul to power. Aware but not fully digested the weight of that action and what it truly entailed to sell his soul. That Hell is forever. So when he died, his master pretty much granted him immense power for a job well done as well treat him like a lieutenant type of underling. Every time Alastor increase his power, it increase his master. He nearly has free range do whatever he wants but he still has commands to follow.

I think that's why Charlies dream seem so laughable to him.When Charlie asked Alastor if he thought it was possible for the souls can be redeemed. He said (paraphrase) "There's no undoing what is done while they were alive, and now they pay the price in their after life." Which tbh, Alastor right...that's what Hell is about. But I think it may have a stronger meaning to Alastor. His deal he made while alive.

I agree with the Lilith and Eve theories for as his master, which does check out. But I'm not throwing Zestial out the window. I find it odd that Alastor nearly wiped out all the older generation overlords but he remained. Also, how everyone overly fears him when the show introduced him and literally did nothing with him. (I have a feeling he minimal use is keeping him on low profile until he becomes a big player later.) Alastor did seem a tad apprehensive when Zestial appeared calm enough knowing harm not coming his way. The only reason I haven't made a post of it because Zestial question the 7 year absence/-which I can't explain. I think he would know what his powerful underling been up too.

The reason he got into killing I assume is his father. Alastor is a momma boy and I can see him taking out his father trying to defend his mother. Then it just kept morphing into a defender of woman and selecting men who rape woman and children or he see a very abusive man to his wife and it just keep recalling the memories of his own parents. His soul already damn, might as well put it to use, can't damn it more! He found himself good at cold murder, enjoying it. Or rather...entertained. The stalking, planning out every detail, the chase. He gives me slow death vibes, relishing their 'song and dance' as they scream and writhe in pain. It gave him a high,holding that much power over someone, the power of their life in his hands (god complex we get to witness) Then the satisfaction of getting away with it. It becoming more of a game then a (in his mind) service of justice.

Maybe he got into cannibalism when he fed come gaters to rid of the evidence and was like 'hmmm, maybe them gators have something there..." and kept a calf to try and was hooked since then. Then the killing became more of feed an appetite and boredom, that he had to seek a suitable victim to fulfill his needs. When it use to be, he witness/has knowledge of a deplorable act, he killed to end it from continuing. His 'kind' service became a greedy hunger of flesh, power, and entertainment.

But the last part of you message was extremely interesting. I never consider Alastor deal with Charlie is to use his favor to have her not get involved and stop him from fulfilling a task he needed/wanted. It really clever and keeps the harm no one part.

Love the part that Hell was paved with good intentions, because of the apple of knowledge/free will what created Hell. Such a lovely and fun way to put it. Then applied it to Alastor with what started as good intention murders.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel headcanon #hazbin hotel theory #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel lucifer #zestial #hazbin zestial #hazbin hotel zestial #hazbin theory #hazbin headcanons

[harlowsbby]

Improv Baby

“Baby I know it’s super last minute but if you don’t mind and if you want, do you think you’d wanna be in one of the skits?”

Jack managed to say before running back over and changing into another costumes. He was out of breath from running around and all of the different costume changes but he loved it.

Jack was Hosting and Performing for SNL everything was hectic but a good kind of hectic the smile he had on his face never fell or left since the show started.

“You want me to be in a skit? Why.”

“Well I know how much you love watching the show baby and I asked Kenan and he said you can join one of my skits I’m in.”

“What will I wear? And I don’t even know the lines, I don’t even have lines actually.” Jack smirked and pulled out the perfect costume for you, your eyes widened before glaring at him playfully. He smirked and nodded his head slowly.

“Oh no I’m not wearing that no fucking way.”

“Come on baby I think this will be the perfect costume and it’s called improv baby just make anything up.”

“What skit is this Urban?” Maggie was beyond thrilled and proud of Jack this entire year he’s been winning and achieving so much she couldn’t be anymore more prouder.

“I think it’s the one that Jack dresses up as a giant tampon.” Urban laughed and Maggie looked at him horrified.

“A giant tampon? Out of everything, well that should be a really interesting thing to watch.” Maggie went back to talking with Jack’s grandparents while Urban and Sunni busted out into a fit of giggles.

“Oh it’s definitely going to be something very interesting to see.”

“Very interesting indeed.” Sunni added on.

“Okay, is everyone ready? Let’s go out there and do this shit.. by the way nice costume Y/N.” Kenan laughed and went back to the side of the curtain.

“See baby I told you this costume is the perfect costume and you kind of match with me.”

“I just hope Maggie doesn’t get a heart attack or something seeing me in this.”

“She’ll love it trust me baby.”

“Curtain is opening in 3..2..1.” The curtain opened up, you watched how all the actors got “interviewed” and did their skits, you were beyond happy and proud of Jack he’s achieved so much this year, you knew he was super nervous about tonight but he’s been killing it so far.

“Okay Jack you’re going to go out first and then Y/N we’ll introduce you before you walk out.” Your started rubbing your hands down your costume something you always did when you were nervous, Jack noticed and took your hand in his.

“You got this baby I’ll be right there with you the entire time.” He leaned down and attempted to press a kiss to your lips but the giant string that stuck out of his tampon costume made it a bit difficult.

“We’ll save the kiss for later.” You laughed and he nodded his head in agreement.

“You’re on Jack.” Mike the director whispered.

“Tina! Remember we said we were wishing he’d show up tonight! And he did it’s a frat guy dressed as a tampon!” One of the actors on the show said as Jack walked onto set, everyone immediately erupted in laughter.

“What up! What up! Sigmaaa sigmaaa.” Jack yelled out loud in his frat boy voice, Jack had to take a second to pause or else he would’ve broke character.

“How are you tonight?”

“Oh, I’m chillin bro sigmaaaa!!” Jack yelled out loud and did the Shaka wave that all surfers do.

“Alrighttt sigma, but now I have to ask, how has the costume gone over?”

“Well you know women who are like smart are like disgusted by me but everyone else the vibe it’s giving it’s chilling and you know.”

“And do you have any plans for tonight!”

“Actually yeah I was going to go out and you know get into some legal trouble see a few baddies you know the vibes.”

“Wow well that just sounds amazing!”

“Y/N you’re on.” The director told you and you waddled into the set, here goes nothing. You told yourself.

“Did you say see a few baddies? You aren’t seeing any other baddies but me!” Jack and David immediately broke out of character and started laughing seeing you dressed as a pad.

Jack had to turn around because he simply couldn’t contain his laughter.

“Oh no what’s wrong Frat boy?” The “news” anchor asked Jack.

“I just.” He laughed “I just fuck I mean, Baby what are you like doing downstairs?” He laughed his cheeks turning a bright pink.

“Is that Y/N dressed as a pad!” Maggie laughed out loud.

“Is sure it.” Urban laughed.

“Babe! Like go back upstairs gosh babe I swear I thought I told you stay with Kevin?”

“You did! But all your lame and drunk friends were like totally messing up the vibe.” Jack sighed dramatically and tossed his hands up well somewhat did.

“You see I’m in a interview right babe gosh!! You’re always messing up the fun.” Jack was starting to break character he tried his best not to but seeing him dressed as a tampon and you dressed as a pad was honestly sending him.

“You know what I’m totally done with you!”

“Babe wait up! You know this tampon costume doesn’t make me walk fast.” Everyone laughed watching the two of you waddle off the stage.

“Wow you both did so good, especially you Y/N.” Kenan congratulated the two of you.

“Thank you Kenan it was actually really fun being out there.”

“I’m glad you had a great time, I’ll let you two change.” Kenan gave Jack and You a quick hug before going back on stage.

“Looks like you killed it after all baby, all that stressing for what.” You rolled your eyes at Jack and took off your costume before helping him out of it.

He sat back on one of the couches in his dressing room before patting his lap wanting you to sit on him and you did, wrapping your arms around his shoulders he rested his hands on your thighs.

“I’m so proud of you Jack you honestly have no idea, you’ve achieved so much this year and it isn’t even over yet.” He grinned and gave your lips a quick kiss.

“Thank you baby it means a lot hearing those words come from you. I just can’t wait for this to be over though.”

“Why is that?” A devilish grin appeared on Jack’s face.

“You should know why baby girl. I think once we get back to the hotel I deserve a little treat for all my good work.” You pulled back and placed your hands on your hips.

“Oh is that so?”

“Hmm what do you say?” You thought about it for a second just to tease and play with him before running your fingers across his chest, grabbing his face softly and making him look directly at you, your lips hovering over his.

“I say.. yes I’ll let you have a special treat tonight.”

(I hope you guys like this 😭💗)

taglist

@moody4world @heavyhitterheaux

@lcandothisallday @harlowthot

@jacksmoviestar @jackharloww

@jackmans-poison @babyharleezy

@a-moment-captured @nattinatalia

@hoodharlow

#jack harlow #jack harlow concepts #jack harlow imagine #jack harlow x reader #jack harlow x y/n #jack harlow x you

[legend-the-dumb-jock]

The scrambler: carnival series pt 1

“Come one come all the scrambler my friends! All it takes is two to ride !” The conductor of the scrambler machine was shouting into the crowd but no one would listen to him. He was doing what he could to get the attention of the people passing by but none were interested in the old scrambler ride.

Jake and his father Charles were walking around the fair grounds when Charles seen the old machine and got really excited. “Jake that’s like the ride I used to ride when I was you’re age ! We should give it a go!” Jake wasn’t interested and was playing on his phone a lot. And just absent mindedly said “ok sure whatever pops”. The two walked over to the ride conductor and Charles was thrilled. Even if his son wasn’t excited for the ride he was just happy to be able to spend the time with his son. Even if his son didn’t care.

The conductor beemed at them with delight. “Come one come all to the scrambler! My first customers !” Charles was really excited while the conductor led him and his son to the machine. Jake took his eyes off his phone long enough to get strapped in and then he was back on his playing again. “My deer boy that’s not allowed ! It’s a safety issue!” And the conductor snatched the phone from Jake “I’ll give this back when the ride is done!” Jake was annoyed but he kept his mouth shut. Charles was trying to get strapped into the ride but was having difficulty getting the safety belts to clasp. Jake looked at his father and laughed “jeez dad looks like your too fat for this ride ! All that eating and beer finally coming back to get you now!” Jake laughed at his father while rubbing his hand over his own chiseled abs.

“Nonsense my boy! We can fit you father no problem!” The man looked at charges and said ok now suck in your stomach! And when Charles did the man clasped the belts down on the older man. “See. Fits like a charm! Are you comfy?” Charles let out a breathe and said “it’s tight for sure but I’m excited to right! Let’s start!” The man slapped his hands together and walked back to the control panel. “Alright the machine will now start!” Charles threw his hands in air ready to super man it when the machine started. He loved how the machine would spin you in circles and make you dizzy.

It wasn’t long before the machine was spinning. Faster and faster. “Dad I’m not feeling so good!!” Jake could be heard yelling while Charles was beginning to feel the same queezy feeling. “Me too son!” They were both spinning so fast it was like a blur and couldn’t tel who was who.

When the machine came to a stop both men were dizzy. Charles was grasping at his waist to get the belts off while Jake was already unlatched and on the ground dry heaving. The conductor went to Charles to release him from the ride and he fell to the ground. Jake was standing up when he let out a gasp “what’s going on!!” Charles looked up to see why the familiar voice wasn’t coming from him and the site of seeing his own body standing there in front of him made him pass out.

Jake could hear beeping coming from a machine. He struggled to open his eyes but when he did he found himself in a hospital room but things were still blurry. He tried to get up but was being held down by a massive weight he wasn’t used to. Looking down he seen a giant sphere in front of him that could be nothing more than a large beach ball beer gut. The more he moved the more beeping that came until a nurse came to the room. “Charles you’re awake! I’m getting the Dr right now !” Jake didn’t understand what was going on. Why where they calling him by his fathers name. The dr came in shortly after. “Charles! You’re awake. It was touch and go there for a bit but we got you got back! You had a heart attack and your lucky your boy was there to call the medics. You shouldn’t be getting on those rides at your age. That’s what caused this whole thing to begin with!” Jake was shocked. Dumb founded. They were referring to him like he was …his father. An old over weight man. This couldn’t be right. There was a knock at the door and in walked his body. Grinning like a hyena. “Dad! You’re awake !! I thought you gone for sure ! I’m so glad you aren’t !” The dr dismissed himself from the room after telling the older man that he would need to remain in the hospital for another week. Jake was shocked and almost in tears. When the dr was out of ear shot he demanded to know shah was going on. “Sucks to be fat and old doesn’t it Jake!” His father did another double bicep pose in front of him to mock his situation. “I’m loving this body. So athletic and strong. So much bigger than I have ever been !” Jake demanded to get his body back and father just laughed. “How do you think that’s going to happen? You’re in this room for another week! And the fair…it leaves in a week. So you better get well soon DAD or else you’re going to be stuck like this !” Hearing those words made Jake break down and cry. “I can’t be stuck like this!” The whole time his father just sat back and put his arms behind his head. Flexing his new muscles. Grinning at the predicament they were both in.