#i was just really. really bad at every one I tried in my youth

[barcaatthemoon]

changes || mapi leon x reader ||

the natural changes in your relationship with mapi.

minors dni, 18+, smut ahead.

mapi could tell that something was up. the locker room was a weird mix of tense and seemingly excited. there were rumors of new signees, but mapi hadn't had time to look at them. however, when she arrived at her locker to see a jersey sitting next to it with your last name on it, she realized what was going on.

"are you fucking kidding me?" mapi turned to alexia, as if the woman had personally sought you out to sign. alexia tried to ignore mapi, but the brunette's glare was too much to ignore. "her?"

"she's good, and we could use the extra help on the field with jenni leaving," alexia reasoned. mapi huffed as she hurriedly changed into her kit to get out onto the field. the less time that she had to see you, the better. if mapi was ever to have an enemy, it would have been you.

she knew that there wasn't really a good reason for the two of you to hate each other, but it had been that way for years. whether it be through playing internationally or in your clubs, you and mapi had always clashed on the field together. she knew that alexia was hoping that things would be different with the two of you on the same team, but mapi knew better.

"what is the deal with her?" ona asked as she glanced over to where mapi was glaring at you. everybody knew about you, but they didn't really know you personally. this was a brand new club to you, and you were going to keep your distance because surely these girls were all already mapi's friends.

you didn't understand the rivalry between the two of you. it had started back in international youth teams, and spiraled since then. emotions had run high for you back then, and in the year since, you had mellowed out a bit. many girls who you had once played against were now your friends, with the exception of maria.

maria seemed to hold onto the resentment from your youth. for you, it all stemmed in a single game. it was your chance to show how good you really were, and mapi had shut every single one of your attempts down. you knew how that it was just her having you marked, and that it wasn't personal, but back then it felt personal.

"go away ona, i don't want to talk about it," mapi practically growled. she was much closer to snapping with you around, and it was something that ona realized they'd all have to get used to. ona just hoped that it wasn't going to be a permanent change in attitude.

…

"fuck, come on!" you shouted as you rubbed your thigh. you thought that you were alone in the training room, so when you heard footsteps, you jumped. you looked around the room, surprised to see mapi limping around with an ice pack on her knee. "oh, it's you."

"don't sound too happy," mapi muttered. your face fell, unsure of why she was still being so mean to you. the two of you barely ever interacted during practice, but today had been put on the same team for the 5-v-5. mapi had played things a little high for a couple of the drills, which meant she had gotten you some great passes. if it wasn't for the bad blood between the two of you, there would be a lot of potential for a team up.

"what's wrong with your knee?" you can't help but ask. it's not that difficult to tell yourself that it's just because you're teammates. there was no way that you cared about mapi outside of the pitch. it wasn't like you had been catching yourself thinking of her randomly throughout the day or anything.

"pina, she jumped on my back and my knee buckled. it's no big deal. what's wrong with you?" mapi didn't hide the concern in her voice. you had hobbled away early during practice, and mapi knew you better than to think it was just to get out of drills. they had been ready to start your favorite one of practice when you left.

"it's an old injury that acts up sometimes. i'm good though, barcelona didn't waste their money signing me," you reassured her. mapi's face fell, wondering if that was how you thought she felt about you. truthfully, she hadn't been happy to learn that you came all the way here, but she respected you as a player. mapi knew firsthand how good you were, more often than not having been a thorn in her side when the opportunity arose.

"do you need ice or something?" mapi asked. you shook your head. icing your leg hadn't helped it at all. the tapes would help for a bit, but you needed something more. mapi tilted her head as she watched you try to rub your discomfort out. it was risky, but she stood up and stood in front of you.

"what are you doing?" you asked as you watched mapi move your hand away. hers replaced yours, working through the knots much better than you had been able to. "mapi-,"

"don't mention it, please," mapi said quietly. you nodded and closed your eyes as you leaned back against the bench. mapi was grateful for your eyes being squeezed shut because it allowed for her eyes to roam over your body. things seemed to be just fine between the two of you until her fingers pressed a little higher up than she meant to, pulling a very breathy sigh from your lips. "lo siento."

"don't mention it," you told her. mapi noticed the way that your voice shook like you were barely holding it together. it wasn't the first time that you had crossed her mind, but it definitely was the first time that she had ever really thought about putting her hands on you like this.

…

there's a definite shift in your relationship with mapi over the next couple of weeks. the two of you aren't exactly clambering to spend time together outside of training, but everybody could tell that something had changed. you opened up more to your teammates, no longer afraid that they'd all follow maria's lead and decide to hate you.

"hola maria," you greeted happily as you sat down across from the woman. she furrowed her brows as she looked at you, a slight pout on her lips. "it's rude not to say it back."

"don't call me maria, it makes me feel like i'm in trouble," she said.

"that's your name though," you said. she got up and stood in front of you, encroaching on your personal space. "what am i supposed to call you then?"

"mapi." she grabbed onto your chin and tilted your head up so that you were looking at her. there had been a weird bit of tension building up between the two of you that everybody was waiting to come to head. alexia seemed to watch the two of you with a particular closeness, occasionally with a look of disbelief on her face.

"fine. hola, mapi," you corrected. mapi smiled down at you, leaning in almost close enough to kiss you.

"hola, (y/n). are you coming out tonight? the girls want to go dancing." the invitation had been extended to you in the parking lot, but you hadn't accepted it just yet. you knew that tomorrow was a recovery day, but you also knew that meant twice the amount of drinks as normal. the spanish girls could handle their liqour a lot better than you could, having spent most of your adult life not drinking much.

"promise to keep an eye on me and make sure i don't drink too much?" you asked her. mapi nodded, smiling as she let go of your head. the two of you paired up for some of the drills during practice, something that had become fairly normal. after practice, mapi walked you out to your car, promising to pick you up whenever it was time to go out.

…

the club was absolutely packed, and you hated it. somehow, the entire team had been talked into going, which meant you knew a good amount of the people there, but it was still far too crowded for your liking. that was why you had sat down in a booth across from alexia and refused to move no matter what.

"are the two of you having fun?" you and alexia both glanced over to jenni, who looked disappointed. mapi and leila were right next to her, both of them looking at the two of you expectantly. "come on, it won't kill you to dance with us."

"it might, you don't know that it won't," alexia shot back quickly. you smirked as you watched jenni's face harden a bit. there wasn't a doubt in your mind that alexia would be in for it whenever they got home. jenni didn't like to brag about the things that she got up to with alexia in their bedroom, but the two of you had a habit of chatting in the gym.

"well, if you die, i'll just give you cpr," jenni said as she tugged alexia out of her seat. leila followed the two of them, trailing close behind jenni. that left you and mapi to stand there and stare at each other.

"come on, if ale can get up, so can you," mapi said. she was much more gentle in getting you onto your feet. she also seemed to be content to wait until a slower song started to get you out there.

you didn't fight with mapi as the two of you swayed to the beat of the music. her hands fell onto your hips as she pressed herself up against you. you welcomed the warmth of her body, not having realized how long it had been since someone touched you like this. your mind quickly went elsewhere, but when you felt the press of mapi's lips against the side of your neck, you realized that maybe she wanted this too.

"kiss me," you said as you turned around. you knew that mapi couldn't hear you, but she could read your lips well enough to know what you wanted. and even if she couldn't, you weren't being subtle at all. your eyes hadn't left her lips, not until she was leaning in. excitedly, you surged forward and closed the gap between the two of you.

mapi's lips were soft, a contrast to the way that her teeth nipped at your lip. you let out a little yelp, one that had mapi laughing as she held you in her arms. you swallowed as you looked at her before nodding towards the door. she nodded, and the two of you left the club wordlessly.

"my place or yours?" you asked mapi. she got into the passenger's seat of her own car, having given you her keys after her second drink. you were pretty sure that she hadn't drank much more after that, but in your mind, it was always better safe than sorry.

"yours. i have never been there before," mapi answered. you started her car, jumping a little as the engine roared to life. mapi laughed at that, placing her hand on your thigh to calm you down a bit. she knew that her car could be a bit much for someone driving it for the first time, but she trusted you. you had proven yourself to be one of the very responsible members of the team, especially tonight when everybody else had chosen to get nearly blackout drunk with a few expections.

mapi seemed surprised to see where your apartment was. you had truly gotten a good location, extremely close to the training grounds and nearby several restaurants and stores. mapi was a bit jealous, even if she did like her apartment. it was close by alexia and jenni's, so she could always go annoy them whenever she felt like it.

"it's a bit messy. i had a hard time finding something to wear tonight," you warned her. mapi didn't seem to care. her eyes dropped down to your outfit, appreciatively checking you out once again. it had been hard to keep her eyes off of you earlier in the night, and she was beyond relieved whenever you hadn't pushed her away on the dance floor.

"with how good you look, we'll be lucky to make it to your bedroom," mapi told you. you clenched your thighs together as you unlocked your door. once the two of you were inside, mapi pulled you in for another kiss. this one was firm without being rough. mapi established her control very early on, but you had expected as much.

you kicked your heels off before jumping up into mapi's arms. she carried you down the little hallway, stopping momentarily to press you against the wall to kiss you a little harder. you moaned into that kiss, grinding your hips against her just a little. mapi could already feel the heat coming off of your core, and she realized that she couldn't wait to have you.

"bedroom?" mapi asked. you pointed at the door at the end of the hallway. mapi pulled you away from the wall and walked you right over there. she set you down just long enough to let you move the dresses and clothes scattered about on your bed. you turned around to see her half-naked in front of you. "like what you see?"

"fuck yes," you breathed out. mapi smirked as she moved towards you. your hands immediately flew down to touch her stomach, fingers running along the taunt and toned muscle of her abdomen. mapi's head dropped down to rest on your shoulder, breathing heavily as your hands moved along her body.

"touch me." mapi guided your hands down between her legs. you were surprised, having assumed that she wouldn't have let you in so quickly. you had heard the way mapi talked about having sex with the girls she had picked up before, and it had all sounded very one-sided. although, you supposed that her letting you touch you like this was even more exciting because you did't expect it.

your fingers were met with skin made slick from arousal. mapi was panting in your ear as your fingers teasingly stroked between her lips. mapi bucked her hips forward as your fingers approached her clit. mapi's hands grabbed onto your shoulders for support as she tilted her hips just enough for your fingers to wind up at her entrance.

"one at a time," mapi told you. she sounded desperate, so you let one of your fingers slip inside of her. mapi hiked her leg up as she bucked her hips to try and ride your finger. you quickly lifted her with your other arm, pulling both of you back onto the mattress.

mapi stayed on top of you, riding your finger as you tried to comfortably adjust yourself beneath her. you could tell whenever the one finger wasn't quite enough for mapi, and slowly added a second. once again, you were patient as mapi set the pace that she wanted. you matched her thrust for thrust, not daring to go faster than what she was.

"please, i need more. i'm so close," mapi begged you. she was a lot more prone to whining than you had originally thought, but it didn't bother you one bit. you liked the vulnerability that mapi was willing to show to you, especially considering how volatile your relationship had been in the beginning.

"do you want another finger?" you asked. mapi shook her head, and suddenly, you realized what she needed. you dropped your other hand from her hip down between her legs, allowing for your fingers to brush against her clit. you felt a surge of wetness along with the first spasm of her cunt around your fingers. the next few came in controlled little waves, matching the rhythm set by the fingers against her clit. there was only so long that she could hold off on cumming, and once she had let you, you felt her body tense up around you.

mapi lifted herself off of your fingers before settling down in between your legs. she placed her hands on your waist and bunched them around your dress. you lifted your hips up off of the bed, allowing for the bottom of your dress to move up around your waist. mapi licked her lips as she looked straight ahead to be met with the sight of your definitely ruined underwear.

"i can't wait to taste you," mapi said as she leaned in. your breath hitched as you felt hers ghost across the insides of your thighs. it wasn't fair to see her so composed immediately after an orgasm. you felt like a wreck, turned on and no longer distracted with something interesting to focus on. you were left to lay there and think about how uncomfortable the now-sticky fabric of your underwear felt.

"please hurry," you whined. mapi hooked her fingers around your underwear and pulled them down slowly. she gave a quick teasing little lick between your lips, moaning in pleasure at the taste of you.

"so sweet, i could spend all night licking up every drop." the thickness of mapi's accent made you want to clench your thighs, but her hands kept them apart. she kept you spread open as she took her time to admire you. it was touching her that had gotten you so worked up, and once the two of you were finished, mapi planned on being insufferable about it.

"just please, i want to cum so badly." you looked at mapi with a pout. she bit her lip as she pushed her finger against your entrance. "two, not just one. i need to be fucked, mapi, fucked."

she gave you a quick nod and pushed another finger inside of you without hesitation. her fingers moved at a quick pace, nearly fucking the breath out of you. you threaded your fingers in her hair and pulled her head forward, directing her so that her mouth was on your clit. mapi didn't need instruction past that.

her tongue worked magic on your clit, moving with fluidity and precision. your hips were bucking wildly as you ground yourself against mapi's face. she let you push yourself closer and closer towards an orgasm until you were on the edge of it. that was when she wrapped both of her arms around your hips, keeping you still so that she could truly control when you came.

you hadn't meant to scream her name out at the top of your lungs, but it had still happened. mapi relished in the sound of it echoing off of your bedroom walls. your neighbors would be pissed, but you'd apologize later on, if you could even face them again. mapi liked the sound of her name spilling from your lips that she didn't stop there. you were physically pushing her off of your body to get her to give you a break, and even then, she was looking at you as she "patiently" waited for another turn.

"in the morning," you promised. mapi pouted as she settled in the bed next to you.

"that is so far away," mapi whined. you rolled your eyes at her as you pulled her in for a kiss. "just one more?"

"no, it's late, and i'd like to actually get some rest now. god, you're so needy, maria," you teased. mapi's brows furrowed as she stared at you, obviously not happy with the use of her full name.

"well, now you owe me one in the morning," mapi told you. you laughed it off, already having planned on having sex with her again in the morning. you knew that the two of you had opened up a can of worms, one that you'd be exploring for at least a couple more weeks. you hoped that it would blossom into more, but you didn't want to push mapi for anything too serious when you'd only recently become friends.

#minors do not interact #woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #woso smut #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon smut

[facioleeknow]

Time for love ° Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin. the immortal Adonis, falls for a human.

WC: 2094 Genre: Greek mythology AU, angst, smut

TW: make up artist reader, model hyunjin, smut, masturbation, thigh riding, handjob, mention of cum, borderline asshole hyunjin, greek gods and goddesses, mention of blood, angry hyunjin and angry deities

AN: thank you from th ebottom of my heart to th elovely @leeknowsallyoursecrets , for giving me her opinion about this.

My Kofi if you want to support me <3.

Hyunjin was old. Hyunjin was really really old. Eternal youth they called it. When one thinks about youth, they imagine freshness and fun; a colorful, colorful phase when you get to try new things and explore the world. Hyunjin’s life was anything but; he had seen every corner of this earth and tried every experience that was humanly possible. His life was flat and gray, there was nothing more to do and he was bored.

He remembered his first life. His name was Adonis and he was considered the most beautiful man in the whole world; he was so beautiful that goddesses soon appeared on his doorstep and asked to share his bed. That’s how his story became myth, or what people thought it was.

He had lived many lives from then, he had taken many names and done many things, he lived a tranquil life and minded his business; had sometimes taken a couple of lovers but nothing that had stuck to him. 

His life and pattern of change had come crumbling apart when one day the gods decided to come out in the open and introduce themselves to humans. With time everything was uncovered and the protagonists of every myth became their own kind of celebrities. He had never been more famous in his life, but he also had never been more lonely. He was beautiful and that was a fact, and with the fame came the modeling offers. He modeled for the most famous maisons of fashion of the world and people loved him. No they didn’t love him, they loved his body, they loved his face, they loved his fake smile and fake confidence.

His days were always the same, he would wake up at an insane hour, get on set, get ready, shoot, get unready, check social media and then go to bed, just to do it all the following day. Day after day the cycle had never been broken, for years on end. Until it had.

When he walked inside the photo studio, he could sense something had shifted in the air. He hated changes. A heavy hand smoothed back his unruly hair, his eyes closed almost on instinct after he sat down in his makeup chair. He had requested a special chair, made of one of the softest furs he had ever touched, where he could sleep and relax.

Something warm and small suddenly touched his shoulder, hesitantly. He hissed and his eyes shot open, his staff knew better than to interfere with his pattern. 

His breath hitched in his throat when he opened his eyes. This wasn’t his usual make-up artist.

“Sorry to disturb you Mr. Hwang, I am Y/N L/N, your new makeup artist,” your voice was sweet, way too sweet to be human, but he knew all deities by heart. Perhaps some kind of creature.

“What happened to Ha-na?” his eyes bore holes into your skull, his gaze held a fiery passion you had never seen in your life. Is this how an immortal looks?, you thought.

“She’s on maternity leave, sir,” you had never felt that nervous in your life.

The conversation died off after that but his eyes were fixed on you. There was something about you that Hyunjin couldn't quite pinpoint, his inside felt like they were lit on fire. His head told him that if he looked away from you, something bad would've happened. He had to have you, one way or another, he didn't even care if you were human or not.

Since that day Hyunjin had always waited anxiously for your arrival every morning. You would always greet him with a tight lipped smile while you closed into fists your obvious shaky hands. He liked to think your hands were shaking and your heart was beating out of your chest because of him. 

At night Hyunjin would lie awake and think about you, your hair, your lips, your hands, your eyes, but most of the time he would think about what laid under your clothes, how your curves would look and how they would feel in his big and soft hands.

He had to have you, he didn't care if you were human or not.

The second time Hyunjin spoke to you, it was weeks after your first encounter.

“What are you?” his eyes bored into yours like the first time you met.

 “What do you mean sir?” 

His presence felt almost overbearing, it looked like he was towering over you, it felt like he was everywhere, you couldn't run from him. But in reality he was still sitting in front of you.

“Don't play coy. What kind of creature are you?” 

“Creature? I'm human, sir,” your eyes wide as saucers at his assumption. You? A supernatural creature? 

“Are you lying to me?” His tone was stern and demanding.

“No, sir, I would never.” 

He didn't reply.

He was scary. Immortals were scary and dangerous for humans more than anyone else. You should've been fearful of him but a familiar throb between your legs kept growing and growing and you couldn't help but feel ashamed.

Hyunjin could feel your arousal, he could read it on your face. After centuries he could read human emotions quite well.

“Everybody out!” His tone left no space for arguments. The staff and photographers scurried out of the room with their hearts in their throats.

“Come sit.” The immortal patted his spread legs, his big hand encased your wrist.

“Excuse me?”

“You don't want to?” he sounded cocky now, a new emotion he let you see.

“I didn't say that,” you stuttered.

“Then be a good girl and straddle my thigh.” 

His hands never left your body, not even when you complied and positioned yourself how he asked. He was in control, he was the one guiding your movement.

A small gasp escaped your lips when you felt him ground you on his strong thigh.

“Please sir, touch me,” the shame fueled your pleasure like never before.

“No can do, get yourself off like this or don't at all.”

That was the best orgasm of your life.

After he touched you, Hyunjin couldn't get enough of you. He thought your voice was sweet at first, but your moans were even sweeter, your skin tasted like nectar and your pussy like ambrosia. He was addicted.

Sleep came easier to him now but not even in your dreams he could escape you. Your voice, your sweet whines, your skin, your scent, they all clouded his brain even in his slumber. He'd wake up hard as a rock every night and leaking. He would fuck his fist roughly, just how he liked it, he would use all of his toys and cum again and again until his seed had permanently stained his satin black sheets. But it wasn't enough. It was never enough. He had to feel you clench around him, he had to feel you rake your nails down his back, he had to push your legs to your chest and see fat tears roll down your cheeks.

So he would get up and drive to your house where he would fuck you until you both passed out. It became some sort of routine, one that he followed religiously. But the more he saw the bigger a foreign and strange feeling grew inside him. It started at the pit of his stomach and then spread through his chest like a warm blanket enveloping him in a tight hug. It was comforting and that unsettled him.

He was confused and ignorant, he hated that. But he knew that it didn't come from him, somebody was attacking him. That's how Hyunjin found himself in front of the goddess of love, Aphrodite, herself.

“What have you done to me?” he yelled. He knew yelling at a deity was not a smart move but the anger was consuming him, mixing with that strange feeling and making his blood hot.

“You cursed me, didn't you? You cursed me because I don't want to share a bed with you anymore, you selfish woman.” The moment those words came out of HYunjin’s mouth he regretted them. The room started shaking along with the anger of the goddess, everybody knew not to anger Aphrodite. he was foolish, he thought he could get away with it because he used to be her favorite lover. The goddess grew in stature, the light bulbs in the room exploded, leaving the only light her angry eyes. 

“You foolish human, how dare you speak to me like this,” this was not Aphrodite the goddess of love, this was the goddess of fiery passion and victory, “ I did not curse you. You do not hold significance in my eyes anymore, you are a mere human. Humans all fall in love, it’s their destiny.”

The walls of the pristine white room they were in started to crack under the gravity of the goddess full immortal form. Hyunjin knew that the fact he was not dead meant that Aphrodite let him live as a sign of charity and because of the time they shared their bed. But she did not give second chances, she never had so he quickly kneeled and when he felt the presence of the immortal get gradually less overbearing he got up and walked backwards until back hit the door as a sign of respect and then left. 

The drive home was pure madness, flashes of rage traveled through his body like lightning before leaving like nothing had happened. Hera was punishing him for angering her daughter, nothing was less expected from the goddess of family. When he stumbled into his house, with shaky hands he grabbed his ceremonial cup and offered his bloods to the gods to appease them and as a thanks for sparing his life.

The following day Hyunjin avoided looking at you in the eyes, he had never looked away from you, not even once. You were so used to having his fiery gaze on you that now your whole body felt cold as ice. 

‘Maybe he’s tired,’ you thought while you worked. Tired or not, you felt him miles away from you even if you were touching his skin with your very own hands. Something had shifted between you. 

The next day felt like a deja vù, Hyunjin still had his eyes closed and he still refused to talk to you. You felt wronged and cold. The following days followed the same pattern, it felt like a terrible nightmare. His nightly visits had also stopped and so did his texts. 

Anger and frustration were eating away at you. Work had started to get tougher and Hyunjin’s attitude was making your mental health drop. The last straw was the pouring rain, you were stranded at work, with no umbrella, when all you wanted to do was go home, eat ice cream and sleep.

Fat teardrops started dropping down your cheeks, why was this all happening to you? Why couldn’t you live in peace? Why was Hwang Hyunjin doing this to you?

“Are you crying?” That voice. Hwang Hyunjin.

“That’s none of your business, Hyunjin,” you furiously wiped at your cheeks.

“It is,” his hand cupped your cheek and you had no strength to fight it, “ it is because you are the only woman i’ve ever loved in my long life.” Your breath hitched in your throat.

“Say that again.”

“You, “ he paused, “ are the only wo-”

You didn’t give him the chance to finish his sentence, your lips attached to his and you richest deflated with relief. Kissing him felt familiar and natural. The recognizable desire that always lit within you when you were with him started spreading through you like wildfire. Your hands quickly traveled to his pants and unbuttoned his pants without thinking, you had done that countless times. His dick was already hard and leaking, waiting for you. Your soft hand wrapped around his velvety skin and tugged and moved just how you knew he liked, how you knew drove him mad. Your lips found his neck and nipped and sucked at his pulse point, his weak spot.

“Oh, baby, I’m not going to last, I think I’m cumming.”

A quick swipe of your thumb against his slip made him spill all over your hand, his head thrown back in ecstasy and his eyes tightly shut.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, lover, but first let me return the favor.” 

A hand on his chest stopped him.

“Take me on a date first.”

“Whatever you want, lover.”

#greek gods au #stray kids au #hwang hyunjin au #hyunjin au #make up artist reader #model au #kpop #reader insert #stray kids #stray kids x reader #stray kids smut #stray kids hard thoughts #hwang hyunjin x reader #hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin smut #hwang hyunjin hard thoughts #hyunjin smut #hyunjin #hyunjin x reader #hyunjin hard thoughts

[halcyone-of-the-sea]

OH GOD YOUR REQS R OPEN, i would rlly like to request something, could you write an one shot of price with a little daugther reader? just like, him coming home and spending some time with his little girl, she tells him about her school, he tells her some funny stories that happened while he was at work, he cooks her favorite meal, just a big fluff, i love this man more than anything and i just need some paternal love LMAO, feel totally free to deny! do everything in your time and remember to take good care of urself!

Memories of Youth

Pairing: Father!John Price x F!Daughter!Reader

Synopsis: It was hard being away from his little girl, but warm mornings spent in each other's company were blessings - even if they were far and few in between. It didn't matter the form.

Word Count: 4.5k (short and sweet)

Warnings: Angst (just a little cuz I can't help myself), a lotta fluff, banter, just good platonic/paternal relationship in general, etc.

A/N: Didn't specify if the reader was adopted or blood-related, so that's really up to you! Enjoy, Anon!

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

He got the call at the halfway point of crossing the English Channel, Northern France behind him and Southern England just on the horizon line as the sun began to spread its orange glow over the waves. Sitting high above the water in a slick black Heli, John Price’s hand snaps to his side pocket, fingers deftly peeling back the layers as the overwhelming sound of helicopter blades shakes the hull. 

The rest of Task Force 141 watch with varying interest, only Gaz taking notice of the sudden frown that mars his Captain’s face; the furrowed brow, and the spark of concern in his eyes. A call was unusual. The Sargeant tries not to intrude, but can’t help the way his body lightly shifts so he can have a better view.

John doesn't bother to look at the contact when he takes the device out, rapidly pressing the answer button and slotting the phone at his ear, tilting his head so his opposite rests at the junction of his shoulder. It only stops a fraction of the noise, even so, it would have to do for now. But with how his ears were already straining to find a sound over the line, he may not need to force out the jarring racket after all. 

Inside his chest, John’s heart is racing – confusion laces his mind. This was abnormal. 

I told her only to call if it was an emergency. What could she have gotten herself into now? I said to stay out of trouble…

“Where are you?!” The Brit has to shout down the line, his familiar deep accent loud and guttural. 

His mind flies through every possibility. An intruder had broken into the house, you had broken your arm falling down the stairs again, or a fire had broken out in the kitchen. Fuck…he was too far away to help if anything bad had happened. John’s jaw clenches, eyes looking out over the water as the bucket hat on his head flops in the wind. It was only a product of his job that made him think like that; years of intuition and thinking on the fly leading to his mind making up the worst scenarios. 

Especially when you called on a secure line when he told you it was only appropriate for life-and-death situations. Especially when it was his little girl.

I told ‘er about the Pistol in my office, yeah? The Captain asks himself with a steel-like resolve. And gave her Laswell’s number?

John’s fingers tighten over the phone when he hears your breath over the line, a shuffling of clothes, and a deep exhale.

“Sunshine!” He tries again, sitting up straighter as his pulse gets faster. Why isn’t she answering me? “Where are you right–”

“We don’t have anything for breakfast.” Your voice is heavy with sleep; fatigue drowning the syllables and holding them under the very waves that rage under John only separated by thin sheets of metal. 

The Brit stops. His body freezes, and as the tense minutes go by his panic falls away and leaves a thick stain of annoyance resting behind his eyelids. Of course. John brings two fingers to his nose bridge, digging into the skin until tiny crescent moons are left behind; he has to take a deep breath before answering, but his tone leaves nothing to the imagination.

“...Breakfast…?”

“Yeah, Old Man, you need me to spell it for you? B-R-E-A-K-F-A–”

“Enough!” John barks stiffly and has to hold back his anger as you laugh from the other side. Ever the jokester – did you not realize how serious this was? How fast your father’s heart was racing with adrenaline? 

Fuck, he had just about been ready to radio the cockpit and force the pilots to fly faster.

Across the way, Ghost locks eyes with the man, and with a tilt of his head and a loud call he asks, “That the Mutt?”

The Captain’s eyes slip back into a firm blank slate.

“Affirm.” John tilts the phone away from his mouth, ignoring your sarcastic comments to catch his sanity for a moment and respond to his Lieutenant.

Simon blinks as Johnny perks up at his side, looking in from the view in favor of the Captain with newfound interest. A bright smile forms over his scruffy cheeks

“She all good?” The skeletal man asks, and Gaz smirks lazily tapping his fingers over his knee, immediately noticing your shenanigans and the way the Cap was so worked up. 

But anyone would be when they had a daughter thousands of miles away.

John simply nods once with an exasperated expression to Ghost. MacTavish snorts out a laugh, knowing the context of the situation without having to think hard.

“Is that Uncle Simon?” You ask, and with a scratch at his beard, your father hums in confirmation, letting the sound of your voice put him more at ease. She’s just fine. “Tell him I want him to come over and play Mario Cart with Gaz, Johnny, and me again! He wiped the floor with ‘em last time!” 

There’s a clinking of pots and pans as you move throughout the house. 

“Sweetheart,” Your father grumbles, sighing through the call. His voice takes on the authoritative tone that works for both soldiers and teenagers – but it rarely works on you, despite that fact. Took after your dad too much, is what John would say. Never listened until it was absolutely necessary. “What did I tell you about callin’ this phone when I’m away from the house?”

He hears your scoff and raises a warning eyebrow, though you can’t see it. You know your dad enough to know he’s doing it despite being separated. It was pretty common.  

“Not to, unless it’s an emergency…But I’d say food is a big enough reason, y’know? Unless you want me to eat the leftover cake for breakfast – which I haven’t thrown out as a possibility yet, honestly.”

“You’re not eatin’ bloody cake for breakfast. You’ll get sick.” Gaz snickers, turning his face away to hide the amusement at the comment. 

It hadn’t been a surprise that the Captain’s daughter was such a familiar creature – they saw traits reflected every time the two were together. Everyone had expected her to take after her old man in nearly everything, and when she had they had bumped fists and prayed for the brown-bearded man. But it was funny nonetheless, considering they got along better than most fathers and daughters; practically reading each other's minds when everyone was playing poker. Johnny was still pretty ticked off about that – he’s a good deal deep into the sweets debt he owes you because Price helps you win. But where they really shined was with the shared deadpan attitudes, bottom-of-the-barrel sarcasm, and knowing how to command a room without even trying. Safe to assume that the rest of the team would do anything for you.

“Will not.” You grumble in retaliation, and John’s lips threaten to tilt into a grumpy smile when he hears you put the cake plate back into the counter. 

Letting the tension fall from his shoulders, the brown-haired man takes a glance outside, watching the waves go bright orange as they lap and writhe like great sea serpents. 

“How long have you been up, eh? The sun’s barely risen. Thought Sunday was when you always slept in?” 

There’s a pause in what John believed were fingers digging through a cupboard, and he narrows his eyes in confusion as the silence grows long. He frowns when you speak again, words so quiet he has to place a hand over his other ear to hear properly. Having half a mind to go and tell the pilots to hurry up and go faster so he can just talk to his little girl in person, he refrains, knowing that’s not how this works. But something was wrong – it had been laced in your previous words, as tiny and unnoticeable as it may have been. Only a father would notice it.

“You said you were gonna be home last night. I stayed up.” It takes a moment of halted breathing before John’s eyes widen, blues full of realization.

Oh. 

…Damn it. He lets out the tense breath of air from his lips, shifting in his seat as the gear around his body weighs him down. His gun digs into his chest. 

He hadn't seen you for over a week – leaving you in the care of a close and trusted neighbor, Mrs. Lilly, just as he always had when he needed to leave for work on short notice. But seeing as you were older now, it became apparent that, with your learned independence, staying at the house by yourself was alright as long as you checked in with the neighbor every morning and night. You had been waiting for him to come home. All alone. In the dark. 

Fucken’ hell, John thinks in a deep layer of guilt as wrinkles overtake his forehead, I did tell her I’d be back yesterday. I forgot to call and tell ‘er. Shit! He didn’t want to imagine the stress that had been put on your shoulders. God, what’ve I done?

Not checking in was something he had never missed before – he always told you when he was about to come back. What had gone wrong this time? How had something that important just slipped his mind? Sure the Op had been tedious, but he was trained to handle it. It was no excuse. 

“Sweetheart,” John starts and then pauses the soft and gentle endearment, knowing that an apology didn’t fit into what you were looking for. You didn’t want an ‘I’m sorry’ right now, you wanted your father. Flattening his lips into a line, he continues, wishing he was with you more than ever so he can press a kiss to your forehead. “...I should be back before 1200. How about when I get back I’ll cook you up somethin’ myself, yeah? Or we can go to that Cafe you like down on Newman Street and I’ll get you whatever you want.”

“...When do you have to go back?” You don’t answer his question, and yours makes his heart hurt. 

John clears his throat.

“None of that, now. We’ll talk more when I get back, Darling, alright?” You don’t respond, but he hears you sigh and quietly scoff under your breath. “Alright?” He tries again, head tilting forward and eyebrows rising as if you could see him. Maybe you could.

“Fine. But you better make me pancakes. I don’t care if it’ll be noon.” 

“Pancakes it is.” The Captain looks up in time to see Johnny mouthing words to him, and with a blank face and stiff lip, your father mutters with a grunt, “Johnny says ‘hello.’” 

Your shocked snort makes him feel better, but a layer of guilt still stays. You were awake all night waiting for him, and he never showed up. Did you sleep on the couch? Damnit, he hoped you didn’t…but in his rattling chest knew you had. He found you like that every time he came back from a long stay away. Huddled under blankets, no pillow under your head. Sometimes you steal one of his shirts and hold it like a stuffed bear to your chest, shoving your face into it. 

How could I forget to fucken’ call her?

Your voice takes him out of his growing self-resentment. 

“Tell him to watch his back – I’m getting better at Rainbow Road. Soon enough I’ll be able to beat him in a 1V1!” John can’t help the slow chuckle that bounces in his throat, mind, for the moment, at ease as long as you continue to speak to him.

“I’ll be sure to pass it along. But, eh,” The Brit makes sure he speaks slowly, letting you hear every syllable of his next words. “Promise me you’ll stay at the house until I get there. No goin’ out with friends, yeah? You know how I worry.” John ignores the teasing look from Gaz and peeks out again to see how close they were to the mainland with narrowed lids. “‘Specially when I’m not there.”

Getting back to the Base wasn’t the problem, it was the damn reports coming in that would wring his neck before he could get out the door. But he’d push it off for however long he could; call in favors from Laswell to get him more time with his little girl so he can fix his mistake. As a dad, the only thing that counted was seeing his daughter after a seemingly unending Op that he didn’t want to relive. The hardest part wasn’t the blood or the guts – it was being away from you. Nothing would ever change that, even if he was the one on the ground gritting his teeth at the bite of a bullet.

“Scout’s honor, Old Man.” The happiness in your voice makes him smile to himself. 

“Stop calling me that, Muppet.” John grumbles affectionately, rolling his eyes, “I’ll give you a call when back I’m in town, Sunshine. Make sure the door’s locked–”

“--Locked, the windows too, plus, if someone knocks on the door I need to look through the peephole and if I don’t recognize them don’t open it…Am I missing anything?”

“Mind yourself, now you’re just being cheeky, you are.” John teases, scoffing, but proud that you remembered his rules. It made all of this just a bit more manageable.

“Who do you think I got it from?” You laugh, but it tapers off sullenly, “Just…get home safe, okay, Dad?”

John’s beard pulls back into a soft close-lipped grin, eyes crinkling as his heart warms. He so desperately wanted to ruffle your hair. 

“Of course, Hun. But, eh, take a nap. It’s still early, and I know you’ve got schoolwork to do later. You sound like you’re about to keel over where you stand.” You scoff before agreeing with a muttered grumble, most likely already stumbling to the living room couch, and then the line goes silent and is replaced once more by the whirring of the helicopter blades. 

The man peels back the phone and pockets it, hand unconsciously brushing his breast pouch where a picture of the two of you always sits. It was a baby picture, with your little form held in his grip delicately; looking down at you with soft eyes and an easy smile on his lips that always formed when he was with you. From under a soft blanket, your tiny hand reaches out to try and brush his stubbily cheek. 

It never failed to bring him ease when he realized the photo was there. A reminder that if everything else in his life went horribly wrong, you would still be looking up at him with those eyes of yours. At the very least, he had managed to do one thing right.

“She’ll be fine. She’s a good kid.” Gaz calls at him, and John spares him a glance out of the side of his eye with a raised brow.

“I know she is. I’m the one who raised her.”

—

You remember eating a piece of toast before you made your way over to the couch, throwing your phone to the coffee table haphazardly before tossing yourself onto the cushions. Still in your pajamas, you can’t find it in you to go and grab the homework in your backpack this early. The sun had only just risen, and the bags under your eyes reminded you how late you stayed up last night. 

But your father had never shown up.

Frantic was too light a word to describe the feeling you had when your eyelids had peeled back to the empty living room and the TV still playing. It had been second nature to snatch your phone and call the secure line – half of you had said it was better to call Laswell, just in case, but your adolescent brain had wanted nothing more than to hear your father’s voice.

He would make it better. But you needed to hear his voice. 

Dad, you remembered pleading to yourself as the sound of the dial tone echoed in your ear, please answer the phone. Please. Answer the fucking phone. 

Your heart was pounding; hands shaking. He never just didn’t show up when he said he was going to. Never. Your dad was punctual – always on time no matter what – and he had ingrained the same sentiment in you as well. 

When his deep voice finally bounced in your eardrums you nearly started to cry, missing the first hurried and concern-filled inquiry of where you were. Hearing his voice put you at ease, and after a week of missing your father’s strong presence and his warm hugs, it was hard not to take a shaky inhale when he seemed so close.

You just wanted him home; you wanted him to make you pancakes and help you with your schoolwork. You wanted him to read a book to you on this couch like you were a toddler again while his old record player was on in the background. 

It was childish, getting so worked up about it, but your dad meant the world to you. Not having him here felt wrong. 

Sighing, you rub at your eyes and revel in the darkness before letting out a strained yawn, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it over your body. It didn’t take long before your eyes were flickering shut, a calm quiet settling over the house as cars passed by outside in the street. You pull the blanket closer and breathe, inhaling pine needles and ash. 

You don’t know how long you were there, twitching in your sleep before the scent woke you up – it makes your nose scrunch, eyelids blinking away fuzz. There was a pillow under your head, the blanket wrapped tight around your neck to keep out the London chill, and a clanking of pans in the kitchen. Scraping spatula over cast iron, you knew, the sizzling of batter. 

The haze of that in-between state, sleep and consciousness fighting in the back of your skull and under your hairline, stays even as you try to force it away. It was like a wave – it constantly pulled you under when you thought you were getting to the surface. Your eyes would blink open and closed; comforted back into sleep by the deep humming, the waver of an old record player. Feet over hardwood and the smell of fresh pancakes. 

Dad’s home. 

A delirious smile slides over your sleep-hot face. That was why you were so content. This was what home sounded and smelled like. 

Dad’s home. You repeat it once more, nuzzling farther into your father's travel pillow he brings to and from Base. Pine needles. Ash. Cigar smoke.

Dad’s home! Your eyes snap open wildly, your body shooting up from the cushions as the blanket falls to the floor. Angling your head to the separated kitchen, you swipe the drool from your mouth with a heavy hand and listen. 

Your dreams had tricked you before, but no. Not this time. 

He was humming along to some old tune under his breath that mirrored the record player behind the couch; the antique turned low so it wouldn’t wake you. Blinking in shock, your mouth morphs into a rich smile instantaneously. 

Throwing yourself off the couch, your feet slam to the floor, rushing and almost tripping over the blanket on the floor as your body slants forward. Giggling, you push on, righting yourself with no second thought other than welcoming your dad home the same as you always did. Zipping around the corner, a shadow is already turning your way, a plate of pancakes ready to be put on the table and devoured. 

“Dad!” You yell loudly and launch yourself at him, hearing his chest let out a grunt and his hands splay around you so he won’t drop breakfast food all over the floor. 

A velvety chuckle is wrung from his body, and his free digits go to rest heavily on your head as you shove yourself into his hold. Gripping his shirt tight between your fingers, you try not to cry when that scent that had been fading from the house comes back tenfold. Your eyes burn, but you only let one tear out when your dad’s finger begins stroking your hair just like he did when you were little.

You had been so worried. 

“There’s my girl,” His voice whispers out, “I’m here, Sunshine. Easy now.” 

“I thought you died,” You can’t help the helpless gasp that rips from you. Your father’s hand freezes; body going rigid around your smaller, desperately grasping frame. The atmosphere of the room flips. Digging into the fabric of his shirt the full flood of tears finally comes forward. “W-when I woke up and you weren’t here I… I thought you were never coming back home, and that I would have to go and live with the neighbors and I’d have to bury you in the cemetery. I don’t-don’t wanna have to put you in the ground.” You’re rambling, but you can’t stop the words. “I don’t want you to leave me alone, Dad. Please don’t leave me alone.” 

At some point, the plate of pancakes had been tossed to the counter without care for if the porcelain cracked from the force, and both of your father's arms hand scooped you into his hold effortlessly. Your breath was hiccuping violently, tears making his shirt wet and sticking to his skin. 

But John didn’t care. 

He wrapped his arms around you and curled his body in, taking you into a hold so warm and tight you couldn’t leave it even if you tried.

What’ve I done? The man feels his lips tense, blinking down at your shaking body with guilt as you sob. Oh, my Little Girl, I’m so sorry. What’ve I done to you? 

Had he never noticed the toll that this job was taking on you? John asked himself this in disgust as he pressed his lips to the crown of your head, whispering words into your hair under his shaky breath. He hated when you cried because of him.

“I’m not going anywhere, Love, alright? Look at me.” You don’t move your bruising grip, face still held away from sight as you gasp down frantic breaths. John’s voice gets firmer, “Sweetheart, I need you to look at me, yeah?”

Your tight fingers stutter, and your head barely shifts to the side, one red eye peeking up as he looks down at you with all the love he can muster without looking incredibly broken. He never wanted to see you cry again but knew that would be an impossible feat to accomplish – but he’d do his damndest to try.

“There she is.” John’s hand goes to your cheek, brushing away the saltwater with a calloused thumb as you sniffle. “Just keep those eyes on me, Little One.”

“...M’ not little anymore.” You grumble out, your cheeks heating even as your pulse slows as you focus on your dad's eyes. So soft the edges were nearly liquid; water that held your attention as they lapped across your form. 

“To me, you’ll always be little. Can’t change that I’m afraid.” The man grunts out, tilting his head down at you and letting his eyes travel from concern to comfort. But that doesn’t change the present. 

“I’m so sorry, Love,” Your father mutters, eyes flickering away from yours in guilt so rarely shown to others. He always prided himself on being strong, you knew, bearing the brunt of the weight. Apologies weren’t often verbally said until it truly mattered. “I should have called you. That’s all on me, that is. Bloody stupid to forget about, knowin’ how you wait up for me.” 

Your lips thin to mimic your dad's, brows pulling close. But in your chest, your heart couldn’t be larger. You didn’t hold it against him, but you wished he could be here more often; not put himself in dangerous situations. Knowing as little as you did about your dad's actual job, you still knew it wasn’t entirely safe. 

Maybe the two of you protected each other from the things unseen. 

Your chest aches.

“...You’re funny lookin’ when you have to apologize. Like a kicked bear.” Pulling back your lips, a tiny smile lighting your face, and you look up at your dad with a sniffle in your nose. 

His visage snaps to yours, eyebrows going high on his head in surprise, and hooded blue eyes widening. It takes a moment, but a smirk pushes back his beard when he sees the tears have stopped falling. 

“Yeah?” John asks you, a grumble reverberating in his chest, “Now, y’know, that is just bloody rude, Sunshine. Thought I raised you better…And after I made you pancakes.” 

Laughing, you pull back, stomach rumbling and nose twitching at the prospect of the nearly forgotten food. Slithering past your father, you snatch the plate and fork before rushing into the living room. Jumping on the couch you begin to cut into the carbs, piling pieces into your mouth and smiling at the taste. No one else could make them as your dad could. 

The Brit comes not seconds later, a cup of tea held in his hand before he sits down next to you with a groan, stretching out and laying his socked feet on the coffee table next to your tossed phone from hours earlier. You giggle, suddenly leaning to his large frame and hearing him grunt in retaliation. 

“Tell me a funny story,” You demand, listening to him sip his drink in the mid-morning glow that spreads outside the house and leaks in through the opened curtains. Birds sing outside, heard from the street. 

Your dad hums, his beard tickling your scalp as he leans into you in turn, making you chuckle before he nuzzles against you kissing your head; leading to a larger exclamation of glee before you elbow his gut. 

He laughs and answers with a smile in his voice.

“Hm, did I tell you ‘bout the time Gaz fell out of the Heli?” 

You laugh, eating the rest of the pancake remnants; feeling incredibly happy and warm. There were many memories you loved of your dad and his recounting of stories fit many of them. He always kept out the gory bits – promising himself that he would never lead you down that path no matter what – and always opted for the many downright hilarious situations the rest of the 141 always seemed to get into.

“Yes, but tell me again. It’s funny, especially when you describe his face afterward! Like he–”

“Like he had shit his pants and didn’t want to tell me,” John chuckles, eyes squinted, looking down at you as you snuggle into his side. He wraps an arm over your shoulders, taking your empty plate with one hand and putting it on the side table before pulling you close and making sure his tea won’t spill. He feels your tiny, bird-like, heartbeat on his ribcage and knows that nothing could ever take you away from him. You would always be his little girl.  “Yeah, Love, I remember that one. Now, let me start from the beginning…”

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[ghost-proofbaby]

SPARKS FLY💜✨ - STEVE HARRINGTON PLEASE

sparks fly (steve's version)

warnings: mentions of issues at home for steve, talk of fear in the future

wc: 2k+

a/n: i need steve harrington to just show up to my house and kiss me please please please

Steve Harrington was tired of pretending.

He was tired of pretending his parents weren’t goddamn strangers on their worst days and roommates on their best ones, he was tired of pretending that it didn’t affect him that everyone seemed to believe he had peaked in high school of all times, he was tired of pretending like he wanted the picket fence life set out for him by the adults that had groomed him into their own vision since his youth. But most of all, he was tired of pretending he wasn’t head over heels in love with you.

It was a fight with his parents that triggered it. Another rejection letter had come through from another college, and his dad had resorted to only kicking him while he was down. The one time he had the misfortune of both parents being home, and it was only being used for them to express all their disappointment in him. His father’s tasteless yelling, his mother’s crocodile tears, everything he tried to say back being ignored – he couldn’t fucking take it. He’d left the house with no destination in mind, just jumping into his driver’s seat and knowing he needed to get as far from that godforsaken house as he could.

Distance. He needed distance. And apparently, in his mind, the one place that could take him farther from a house that would never be a home was you. 

His tires had squealed during several of the turns taken until he was flying down your street. It’s storming, a nasty and unforgiving rain coming down in sheets. He should really be driving more carefully, but he can’t. His head and heart alike are racing, and every single nerve ending is just screaming for you.

You, with kind and nonjudgmental eyes, who had always supported him. You, who had never paid much mind to all that he once was when he bore the title of King Steve. You, who had somehow captivated him and had been filling this hole within his chest, one shovel-full at a time. With your laughter, with soft bumps of your shoulder when his mind took him too far from you, with patient ears during every single one of his raging rants about his parents. 

He wasn’t parking in your driveway this late at night to trouble you with another rant. 

His knuckles turn ghostly white from how hard he’s gripping the steering wheel. This is a bad idea. A terrible one, his worst one to date, but he can’t. He doesn’t have any choice in all the other pretending; he could never get through to his parents, to anyone who had these preconceived notions and expectations of him. Tonight had proven that much. But with you…. With you, a change was possible. He didn’t have to keep biting his tongue when it came to you. Every time he’d look at you when you two hung out during dusk and the golden hour painted your every feature the prettiest shades he’d ever been witness to, he didn’t have to choke back down that pathetic confession of adoration. Every time your hand brushed his while walking to the local diner, he didn’t have to pull it away rather than weave your fingers together. He didn’t have to keep denying himself all these simple pleasures – interrupting kisses he’d fantasized about and holding each other on stormy nights just like this one that he had only dreamt of. 

But if he tells you, if he fucks it all up, he loses you. And Steve Harrington doesn’t know if he could handle that.

“Just do it,” he mumbles, trying to privately hype himself up, “Just get out of the car, just go knock on the front door, just-” 

He’s nearly hyperventilating. There’s only two endings to his night. He either returns back to his house, crawls into bed and licks at the wounds left by your rejection, or he doesn’t. Either he kisses you, and you pull him in from the storm raging on or you don’t. 

Two options. It’s only two options, two possible paths. The world doesn’t end, regardless of which one he’s forced to take tonight. 

Were all of his longing glances not returned? Had he not caught you staring in his direction more times than he could count on one hand? 

His fists drop from the wheel, landing on the door handle and throwing it open before he could freeze up again. 

Had you not whispered to him how he was your best friend, your favorite person, even more times than he had caught you staring? Over phone lines, in private corners of busy parties, sitting on his bed and doing nothing more than enjoying each other’s presence while his parents were out of town. 

The rain soaks him immediately. Down to the bone, he’s drenched, the unforgiving winds whipping around him only making him shiver. He can’t even feel the discomfort of his jeans turning to plaster as he takes the long strides up to your front door. 

Had he imagined that time you’d kissed his cheek at the county fair? When he’d won you that obnoxiously large teddy bear, almost too big for you to carry and adorning the most ridiculous sailor’s outfit either of you had ever seen, and you’d so affectionately nicknamed it after Steve’s place of employment – Scoops the Bear, Captain of Flavor. And had you not called the sailor’s outfit cute the moment Steve made the comparison to his own uniform? 

He knocks hard enough that his knuckles sting, and he doesn’t care. The sting doesn’t reach him, his mind only flashing over a reel of memories with you. All he can feel is that ghost of an ache that always haunts his cheeks when he’s around you, the way his chest feels just a little bit lighter and he feels a little more himself when in your presence. You bring out the best in him – you make him want to be a better man, all while never making him feel as if he isn’t good enough. All he ever feels around you is wanted.

Had your eyes not shined as you looked up at him, all the colorful carnival lights and stars reflected in them as Steve tried to (and failed) to hide his vibrant blush? Had you not smiled soft enough to send sparks flying through his chest, threatening to catch fire at any given moment? 

He hadn’t imagined it all – he couldn’t have imagined it all. You’d looked at him like he was the only boy in the world. You’d looked at him as if you could have spent the rest of your night there, feet planted in the grass and a bear nicknamed after him being crushed in your arms. It had been as if you could have stood by his side for the rest of your days, the rest of the world continuing to move on and the two of you left there to decay hand in hand, and it would have been a life well wasted. For both of you.

“Steve?” 

Your front door swings open, and there you are. Still looking adorable while dressed in your most comfortable pajamas for the night. Even beneath the confused and worried first glance, that look from the fair is still there. Your eyes still shine without the lights. 

“What’s wron-” 

You can’t finish your question – before either of you can process what’s happening, Steve’s lips are on yours. He’s overeager and nowhere near graceful with it, his nose nearly taking out your eye as he throws himself against you at full force. Everything from the night, the last few months, poured into that kiss. You nearly fall backwards from the force, and his hands are quick to catch onto your hips and tug you back into his orbit. But it only changes the trajectory of your stumble; both of you are suddenly outside your door, the rain now soaking you as well as Steve. 

When he pulls back from the kiss, he can’t breathe. He did it. The taste of your lips are still burning his, and he can’t open his eyes to wager your reaction. He doesn’t think you kissed back, it wasn’t much of a kiss beyond him just needing his lips on yours right that second, but he’s not sure. He isn’t fucking sure. He can’t open his eyes – he can’t risk watching himself lose you in real time.

“Steve,” your palm is warm on his frigid cheek. He jumps at the sudden contact, eyes pinching shut harsher, “Please look at me.”

When you ask him in that soft voice, please with that gentle tone that wraps him up in such comfort, he can’t deny you. 

He opens his eyes. He can’t read your face. 

It’s surprised, surely. Mouth still slightly parted and drops of water running down your cheeks. Your lashes flutter as your eyes dart down to his lips, and he swears to every God that has ever existed that you are the prettiest thing he’s ever seen. Something so precious, so warm, so home. 

“What-” you start, but Steve is on a roll of interrupting you tonight.

This time, it’s his voice and not his lips as he sputters out, “Everything’s wrong. Every fucking thing is just wrong – my parents, my life, my decisions. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing with myself. I’m lost, I-I’m so goddamn lost. Because everything is… wrong and bad and… and just… it’s wrong. Except you,” he takes his first big breath since the ramble began, eyes stinging and he tells himself it’s just from the rain leaking into them, “You are the only right thing in my life right now. You’re… Fuck. I’m in love with you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry, because I know I’m fucking it all up right now. I’m finally letting the one right thing in my life go wrong, because I just can’t do it anymore. I am so fucking in love with you, and I’m tired of pretending I’m no-”

Your turn to interrupt. You surge forward, wrap your hands around the back of his neck and kiss him even more forcefully than he had you. The taste of the rain and your toothpaste mingle as your body collides with him. He almost forgets to react, so caught up in the fire finally erupting so freely in his chest.

And then you bite at his bottom lip, and he feels that beautiful smile, and he finally remembers to do something. His hands find purchase on your lower back and he tries not to laugh in glee as he hungrily kisses you back, lips moving in tangent and perfect synchronicity. 

“We’re gonna drown out here,” you laugh against his lips, finally breaking off and resting your forehead against his. 

“No, we’re not,” he insists with a cheesy grin, “I used to be a swimmer, remember?” 

Another kiss and more laughter, and Steve can’t even hear the thunder in the distance anymore. It becomes clear which path he will be taking tonight. 

“Let’s go inside and dry off, yeah?” you offer, taking a step back out of the torrential downpour, “I’m getting cold.” 

He’s still starstruck as he looks down at you, nodding dumbly, still all consumed by those embers. “Yeah. Yeah, me too.” 

You take his hands in yours, intertwining your fingers with his just as he has yearned for. You pull shyly, continuing to walk backwards until you step back into the threshold of your house before stopping. The rain no longer pelts down on Steve’s shoulders, the ones infinitely lighter now as your grin is directed at him and he knows he’s home. 

“Oh, and Steve?” you question, and he hums, eager to hear whatever it is you have to say. He’ll always want to listen to you. For the rest of tonight, for the rest of the week, for the rest of his life, “In case it wasn’t obvious, I’m in love with you, you idiot.” 

He can’t help it – he pulls you in for another kiss, kicking the front door shut behind him. Steve supposes he should have seen that one coming. He’s never really had to pretend with you, anyways. 

"kiss me on the sidewalk, take away the pain."

#speak now (ghost's version) #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington blurb #stranger things

[sciencebecameouraddiction]

my lucifer headcanons

note: these are just my own head canons. things i’ve noticed, how i write lucifer, what plays into why i write luce the way i do… etc. purely my own opinion.

- i think michael was very fond of his brother

- when the time came though to listen to dad and fulfill his duty or be a brother to lucifer michael chose duty

- the betrayal is still a sore spot for lucifer

- during lucifer’s “youth” he was curious, always dreaming up incredible creations… it was why he was dads favorite.

- he made the star fish, “because the sea deserves its own stars!” and he also made the duck. the ducks first iteration was quite a bit larger… lucifer and god compromised on a smaller duck. (more like god bribed lucifer.)

- he watched adam be made…. so he was always fond of him and lilith… until he fell in love with lilith…

- he didn’t realize it was love

- but michael knew and michael was scared. so he would draw lucifer away from the garden every chance he got

- lucifer was very naive when he was cast down to hell. he knew so much, he had been alive for so long, but there was so much life experience he didn’t have.

- the first few years in hell were horrible…

- he had hope at first

- maybe it all wouldn’t be so bad

- it was really bad. like really bad. the people who came down to hell were unspeakable devils

- (this is based off a fic i read and i can’t find it, if this rings any bells pls let me know the fic name) but lucifer is continuously appalled and distraught by the atrocities committed in his name.

- it’s one of the reasons he so powerful. he has the angelic power but also the power from those who worship him and make sacrifices for him

he really hates it. a lot. makes him feel no better than the worse overlord (cough alastor cough)

- charlie has no idea and she’ll never know if he can help it

- lucifer smells like apples and vanilla musk, a hint of cinnamon and something floral or citrusy.

- the floral or citrus changes depending on his mood

- he has a huge library. he actually pops up to earth with Asmodeous sometimes and takes books.

- he saved the whole Library of Alexandria’s books before it burned down

- he’s great friends with all the sins

- arguably closest with Beelzebub and Asmodeous

- he loves claw machines. the lights, the sounds, the prize winning???? he’s so fucking happy

- he actually wears glasses to read. he doesn’t need them but he says they make him look smarter.

- is actually a pretty good leader, is not nearly as forgiving as charlie is, but he’s not inherently cruel

- his third favorite color is pink

- his first and second are yellow and red, obviously

- he has expensive ass, maximalist taste.

- he doesn’t use tech because he knows what vox does to said tech.

- he’s always wanted a dog

- he’s very touchy. shows love physically. is only this way if he likes you though

- he has nightmares almost every night

- coffee addict

- because after not sleeping he wakes up looking like death warmed over

- and that’s if he didn’t forget to eat the past few days except for random snacks and didn’t do a 48 hour blitz of staying up working on ducks or the bit of kingdom shit he does.

- he has a handful of servants who he trusts and they are the only one in the house. there’s no team. nothing like that. he keeps it very close

- this was after someone who was a servant tried to throw an angelic dagger at his head because really they wanted to kill him and thought working for him would get them close enough.

- he homeschooled charlie. he knows a lot of stuff and even knew the guy who created calculus!

#hazbin hotel imagine #hazbin hotel #lucifer fluff #lucifer head canons #hazbin lucifer #lucifer magne #lucifer hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel lucifer #lucifer headcanons #lucifer morningstar #hazbin hotel headcanon

[popponn]

notes: soulmate au!isagi is interesting because while i know this boy will treat his soulmate right, getting into a relationship with him is prob 6 manga arcs worth if you are not in soccer world or someone he knew since he was 4. more on this. someday. but he is a soccer maniac and wouldn't give someone false hope. so. for now here, a brainrot product. no warning, just fall harder & down bad yoichi, the usual.

Isagi Yoichi knew and understood the concept of soulmates as well as the next person do. But, he didn’t actually really spent time mulling over it. For someone who spent most of his youth building his career in soccer whilst enjoying every second of it, Yoichi didn’t really put much thought into the name written circling his wrist. He remembered to cover it before every match to avoid unnecessary publications after he went pro, but it was also something that became a mere one time locker room conversation topic before it was never brought up again.

The name in his wrist belonged to a stranger whose path might or might not cross with him. The one who owns that name still had the possibility of not being ‘the one’ for him despite the public's popular belief, said the rational thought he had. Yoichi was neither deluded nor hateful towards his mark, it was simply there, just like his name was probably on someone’s wrist. He was fully ready for a life where he wouldn't know more than their name.

Then, he met you—a coffee shop, Saturday, 13.23 or so his watch said—then, suddenly a year full of your presence and affections passed in a flash.

And when it hit during the celebration party, a part of him started screaming at him the way it usually screams when he felt he lacks practicing in a middle of a match while also winning it. It was almost embarrassing how he realized he had since months ago returned your feelings—some of his friends said "What's with him now?", some said "About time!", and one shouted "Watch where you walk!" when he tripped over them because you were laughing from somewhere across the room. Nonetheless, Yoichi is a happy embarrassing man who thought he might have the best soulmate in the world.

For him who never thought of thanking fate of his soulmate, 264 days after your first official 'couple date' date, when you smiled at him his thought was, “I’m glad you are my soulmate.” He also embarrassingly blurted it out loud in front of his friends. Bachira and Chigiri had a field day on that one. Kunigami at least had the decency to keep in the group chat.

Then another 150 days passed and when he tied your shoelaces on the way home, he looked up to your face and see you gave him your smile. For a moment, he felt like he wasn't crouching to tie your shoes but to propose to you. Yoichi was either bashfully silent or stupidly jumpy for the rest of the day. Thankfully, there was no practice or match that day.

And before he knew it, everyday blurred with the happiness and unhappiness alike. Once Yoichi remembered what sort of sounds your steps made and what embarrassing stories you tried to hid from your middle school years, once he looked at you with promises waiting to be fulfilled and you looked at him like he was everything—Yoichi knew that he really was a lucky one for having this with you.

“Hey, you don’t have to wait for me and sleep here, you know?” Yoichi said to you, who were dozing off on his shoulder. It was midnight and the match he was rewatching in his phone screen was far from ending. As the camera flew towards the audience whilst another kick off was being prepared, Yoichi took the moment to avert his eyes away from the screen and looked at you,

“Hm?” you replied, less than half awake. With whatever strength you had left, you decided to snuggle closer towards him, murmuring, “I know. And…?”

Yoichi had long knew he was smitten since long ago, yet his eyes still couldn’t help but soften at the sight of you—eyes a bit swollen, face scrunched up in drowsiness, and yet it was still you. He looked at you and saw a future, which he wished you would accept once the moment for him to voice it out come. But, at that moment, he simply smiled and nuzzled his head towards yours, “Nothing. Just, lie down, okay? Here, use my lap."

#bllk #bllk imagines #blue lock #bllk x reader #blue lock fluff #bluelock x reader #blue lock scenarios #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #isagi yoichi #isagi yoichi x reader #blue lock isagi #isagi x reader #bllk isagi #blue lock imagines #drabbles #blurbs #i might write more on this but hey one day maybe it will be a full fledged soulmate coffeshop au so #anyway yoichi is a good soulmate worth fighting whatever 6 manga arcs of slowburn it will be

[munchmemes]

taylor swift lyrics, the tortured poets department edition, part one

fortnight

▸ i was supposed to be sent away but they forgot to come and get me. ▸ i was a functioning alcoholic till nobody noticed my new aesthetic. ▸ no one here's to blame but what about your quiet treason? ▸ for a fortnight there, we were forever. ▸ i took the miracle move-on drug, the effects were temporary. ▸ i love you, it's ruining my life. ▸ thought of calling you but you won't pick up.

the tortured poets department

▸ who uses typewriters anyway? ▸ you're in self-sabotage mode. ▸ we're modern idiots. ▸ you smoked then ate seven bars of chocolate. ▸ i chose this cyclone with you. ▸ sometimes i wonder if you're gonna screw this up with me. ▸ so tell me, who else is gonna know me? ▸ that's the closest i've come to my heart exploding.

my boy only breaks his favorite toys

▸ you should've seen them when they first got me. ▸ i only break my favourite toys. ▸ i should've known it was a matter of time. ▸ we could've played for keeps this time. ▸ i know i'm just repeating myself. put me back on my shelf. ▸ i'll tell you that [you/they] run because [you/they] love me. ▸ i knew too much. ▸ you saw forever so you smashed it up. ▸ once i fix me, you're gonna miss me. ▸ you took me out of my box, stole my tortured heart, left all these broken parts and told me i'm better off but i'm not.

down bad

▸ for a moment, i knew cosmic love. ▸ now i'm down bad, crying at the gym. ▸ everything comes out of teenage petulance. ▸ fuck it if i can't have [you/them]. ▸ i might just die, it would make no difference. ▸ i might just not get up, i might just stay down bad. ▸ fuck it, i was in love.

so long, london

▸ my spine split from carrying us up the hill. ▸ i stopped trying to make you laugh. ▸ how much sad did you think i had in me? ▸ i didn't opt in to be your odd man out. ▸ i'm pissed off you let me give you all that youth for free. ▸ you say i abandoned the ship but i was going down with it. ▸ my friends said it isn't right to be scared every day of a love affair. ▸ just how low did you think i'd go before i'd self-implode? ▸ you swore that you loved me but where were the clues? ▸ i'm just mad as hell 'cause i loved this place.

but daddy i love him

▸ i just learned these people only raise you to cage you. ▸ i just learned these people try and save you 'cause they hate you. ▸ they slammed the door on my whole world. the one thing i wanted. ▸ you should see your face. ▸ no i'm not coming to my senses. ▸ i know [you/they]'re crazy but [you/they]'re the one i want. ▸ all my plans were laid. ▸ growing up precocious sometimes means not growing up at all. ▸ i'll tell you something right now, i'd rather burn my whole life down than listen to one more second of all this bitching and moaning. ▸ i'll tell you something about my good name, it's mine alone to disgrace. ▸ i don't cater to all these vipers dressed in empath's clothing. ▸ god save the most judgmental creeps who say they want what's best for me. ▸ you ain't gotta pray for me if all you want is gray for me. then it's just white noise and it's just my choice. ▸ scandal does funny things to pride but brings lovers closer. ▸ fuck 'em, it's over. ▸ time, doesn't it give some perspective?

fresh out the slammer

▸ fresh out the slammer, i know who my first call will be to. ▸ handcuffed to the spell i was under, for just one hour of sunshine. ▸ years of labor, locks and ceilings, in the shade of how [they were] feeling. ▸ it's gonna be alright, i did my time. ▸ as i said in my letters, now that i know better, i will never lose my baby again. ▸ my friends tried but i wouldn't hear it, watched me daily disappearing. ▸ ain't no way i'm gonna screw up, now that i know what's at stake here.

florida!!!

▸ you can beat the heat if you beat the charges too. ▸ they said i was a cheat, i guess it must be true. ▸ this city reeks of driving myself crazy. ▸ little did you know, your home's really only a town you're just a guest in. ▸ i'm barricaded in the bathroom with a bottle of wine. ▸ well, me and my ghosts, we had a hell of a time. ▸ yes, i'm haunted but i'm feeling just fine. ▸ all my girls got their lace and their crimes. ▸ i did my best to lay to rest all of the bodies that have ever been on my body. ▸ i've got some regrets, i'll bury them in florida. ▸ tell me i'm despicable, say it's unforgivable. ▸ love left me like this and i don't want to exist.

#rp meme #rp starters #sentence starters #lyrics rp starters #lyrics starters #lyrics rp meme #roleplay meme #lyrics meme #taylor swift lyrics rp meme

[loupy-mongoose]

Was all of this gallbladder stuff sudden, or is it just sudden for us because you never mentioned anything about a gallbladder removal until recently

I mentioned a few times throughout the first week of Jan. that I was having some tummy issues, but I never really brought it to the spotlight. The most I did was inform you all that I had gotten "sick", and then only a few days ago mentioned my gall bladder.

There is very little way I can call this sudden in general, however.

I'm... actually gonna put this under a read more, because it runs a lot deeper than just these last few weeks... (Kinda turned into a life-story lol)

So, throughout that first week of Jan, I was having off-and-on mild pain. Nothing too intense, and I'd been through it many, many, MANY times before. (Yeah.... MANY.)

I tried to wait it out every time, only going to Doctors twice for it, and it would eventually go away. I would be careful with my eating afterword (based on past experiences, not any research or knowledge) and eventually I'd be back to normal for the time being.

The time between spells varied. Sometimes it was only months, sometimes it was almost a year. I don't think I ever went beyond a year with no spell, but I can't remember.

This started about

TEN

YEARS

ago.

If each episode has been a pancreatitis attack, then I consider it no small miracle that I'm as good off as I am.

I went to the Doctor once for it as a youth, and they gave me some kind of IBS or other pill for bloating. They did nothing to help, and I didn't pursue any more doctor visits about it until '22.

That time the pain didn't go away for many days, and it got incredibly incapacitating. So I went to the Doctor (completely different one from the first--we'd moved states.) I got some imaging done and they found Pancreatitis and Colitis. They gave me antibiotics and sent me home to recover.

But they didn't finds gallstones.

So I recovered and felt armed to better handle these pain episodes--Just limit my consumption to liquids.

Well, I was doing alright until now.

We had... a V E R Y fatty Christmas dinner, and I was grazing off of the worst of it the following week.

Then, come New Year's Eve, I start to feel that little ache. I... I ignored it, and ate some of the goodies we'd prepared for the night, a little more reserved about it than I normally would've been. Eating has always been one of my absolute favorite parts of that time of year, and I didn't want to let my potential stomach issue completely ruin it for me.

I'm actually surprised by how mild the pain was at first, given all the nasty stuff I'd been eating.

Anyway, that mild pain subsided, and I foolishly let myself eat some more leftover goodies, thinking I was being careful. And of course, it came back.

This went on through the week, with me gradually being more and more careful about what I ate, trying to eat more stomach-bug friendly foods like crackers and toast.

A night finally came where it was so irritating that I threw up. That night it instantly made me feel better. I still increased my carefulness in consumption the following day, taking in nothing but a couple cups each of Pedialyte and chicken broth.

But still it came back. And that was the night it got bad.

I threw up a couple more times that night, and instead of helping this time... the second time left me in a lot of pain. So much that it was uncomfortable to breathe. Uncomfortable to do anything.

Thankfully my dad didn't have work that night (he works overnights), so we ultimately decided at about 6 am to take me to the emergency room.

There they found the gallstones and got blocking ones out of the way, and I spent the following week recovering in the hospital.

It seems most likely that gallstones have been the offender all these years, but the symptoms never quite matched that. I remember once looking into Pancreatitis and seeing that the symptoms matched that pretty well, but never let gallstones settle as an option.

Anyway, I guess I can at least say I have some closure after all this time. It'll be good to finally be free from this plague!

#violetjazz25 #ask #peek behind the Loupy curtain lol #Somehow I doubt you all needed to hear all that. #But I dunno--I just felt like telling it.

[askganon]

I'm really tired. I just transferred to a new university to study psychology and it has been the actual worst experience in every aspect. The two biggest issues are the fact that I am autistic and thusly have issues making friends, and that I have this god-awful professor in my counseling class.

This professor is OFF his rocker. He actively talks about the secret society he is in, trying to teach us preposterous things that have no place in that class or even the school at all. I could write a novel about every problematic thing he has said, but my most major issue with him is how he views and treats women, and continuously brings sexual topics up when they have no relevance to the course material.

He has disrespected his wife over the phone in the middle of class and then tried to justify his behavior using his gender, spoken extensively about what features men don't like on women such as makeup or plastic surgery. He says "natural" women are "healthy" (well-endowed) in either the chest or behind but not both, and are uneven in the chest. He specifically targeted my classmate, who was the only one wearing false eyelashes, to say that men don't like that either.

Another time he told us that women run the world because men are obsessed with us, that we are not oppressed at all, yet he turns around and tells us how women in the corporate world go commando under their skirts and sleep around to work up the corporate ladder. He says this in a way that puts women to shame for this as well.

This week, though, was completely different. His departure from the course material started with the extremely invasive question, "what do you remember about your transition to adolescence?" Again targeting that very same classmate. I blink and he is now telling us that the male experience during puberty is far worse than what women experience, basically saying that—excuse my bluntness—getting a boner in class is much worse than anything women go through, even turning to our singular male classmate for backup on this.

He also tries to tell us that its so so bad for boys because the girls actively try to touch them or make them "psychologically disturbed," as he worded so decoratively. What adolescent girl wants anything to do with that when she's going through her own problems? Since when were young girls going out of their way to trouble boys like this? I was actively trying to deter boys during this time.

I and the other two women in my class were disputing all of this, until our professor finally said, "I will just let that go over y'all heads cause you will never understand the male experience," to which I, shaking with rage, replied, "—and vice versa."

My mental health has been suffering severely, and much worse since this happened Monday. I had never felt such pure, primordial rage towards someone before. This man makes me feel not only objectified but also demonized. Last night was my breaking point, working on one of his assignments. I experienced the most intense mental breakdown of my life so far, and afterwards spent all but two hours of the night trying to cram the project that was due today.

I guess my point is that I would report him, but my school makes it nigh impossible to do so. I'm perpetually exhausted and I do not know if I can make it through the last two weeks of class. I want so badly to be petty and spiteful to his face, but for the most part I've controlled it.

I don't really know what I'm looking for by doing this. I guess I just want to know what you think? Apologies for the length of my message.

Such is the mentality I encountered often in my youth by Hylian men, and women, toward my sisters. They would lust after my sisters based on their attire and physique, while also attempting to demonize them and ostracize them for the exact same reasons.

In short, men are cowards who carry the darkest urges shamelessly, but are too prideful to admit the problem within themselves. Instead, the vilify women for their own indiscretions.

They will openly mock my Gerudo for their appearance, while desiring nothing more than to own their flesh in the most disturbing of ways.

This professor seems like a prime example of the Hylian males I encountered. But if this is the case, then so too is his weakness.

He has likely been thwarted in his past in his attempts to procure a mate to his liking, and due to his pride, he believes it is all of womanhood to blame, and not himself.

This one he singles out is likely similar to those he desired but could never obtain in his youth. As such, he blames all others for his own shortcomings.

Likely too with his mate. I would assume her physique does not fit the desires he now feels entitled to, and as such he makes her the target of his criticism.

But through all of this, he reveals a second weakness.

Fear.

He fears that which he cannot control, and women as a whole seem out of his grasp. Every slight, every jab, and every assault from his lips is but proof that he is afraid of what women are capable.

In the midst of a Gerudo warrior, this professor of yours would crumble like kindling to a flame.

Take solace in the knowledge that you are superior to this worm, for you are what he can never have.

#Ganondorf #Legend of Zelda

[aziraphales-library]

hi there, there's tons of good omens fics where aziraphale turns human and doesn't remember anything of their past while crowley stays near and protects him/befriends him/ etc. Are there any fics where crowley is the one turned human? I couldn't find any fitting tags :((

Hello. We have a #turned human tag that you can browse. Here are some fics in which Crowley is turned human or loses his memory at least believes he's human, some of which will have already been recommended...

Every Atom Belonging to Me by triedunture (T)

Crowley is rendered temporarily mortal after a run-in with a-- Well, it doesn't really matter. What matters is he needs to eat and sleep and do the things humans must do if only for one night. Aziraphale can help with the eating bit, at least. A cozy, sweet evening with tea, drinks, food, poems, and warm blankets.

The Good Demon by HolyCatsAndRabbits (T)

In this AU fic, Hell thinks the demon Crowley isn’t evil enough to merit the title of demon. As punishment, they turn him mortal, and if he wants his old job back with his powers and immortality, he’s got to seduce and cause the Fall of some angel named Aziraphale, who is serving as a campus chaplain, running a group for queer youth. Crowley thinks the assignment will be easy, until he meets the angel and his students, and discovers the kind of found family that he’s always wanted. There’s just one little problem: Crowley is a terrible danger to them all.

feel my fortune tell me by nobirdstofly (E)

“And you bet… what? With whom?” “Oh, with me!” Muriel exclaims. “Mr. Crowley bet me that I couldn’t convince a customer I was human!” “Barmy woman,” Crowley fills in. “Think you could have told her the coatrack was a human.” He sounds so grouchy about it that Aziraphale wants to bundle him in a blanket and set him by the fire with spiked cocoa.

Crowley loses a bet and, temporarily, becomes a human. Aziraphale, predictably, frets.

Save Me by atimefeeler (T)

When Anthony wakes up in a hospital with no memory, he finds himself alone with nothing but a vaguely threatening note written in blood. In an attempt to save himself from an untimely death, Anthony goes about his life as if he wasn't currently suffering from memory loss. It really is too bad he can't figure out if his stunning partner if trying to kill him or not. Going on a date with him couldn't hurt, right? ... “Do you think perhaps you could come over to the bookshop?” Aziraphale asked, “I would so love to see you, dear.” “Yeah I- no!” Anthony nearly shouted and then clamped his hand over his mouth. “No? Why ever not?” “I can’t,” Anthony scrambled for what to say, “I’ve got-” ‘Diarrhea’ was on the tip of his tongue, but then Anthony caught a glimpse of his reflection in the black phone screen and blurted, “-an eye condition.” ... or- Crowley has no idea why his plan to pretend he doesn't have amnesia is proving to be so difficult. It might be because the poor guy is actually a demon.

Pray For Us, Icarus by Atalan (Series) (G-T)

For three centuries, Crowley has been reincarnated over and over as a human with no memory of his past. Aziraphale has tried to find a way to restore him to his true self, but all he seems to do is hurt them both. This time, he only means to steal a brief moment when he walks into Crowley's flower shop. But Crowley can't let it go...

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #turned human #memory loss #mod d

[dean-winchester-is-a-warrior]

Love Misunderstood

Warnings: None really. Brief mention of sexy times. Angst.

Summary: The moment came and went so fast, but Y/N has regretted it ever since.

Pairings: Dean x Y/N

Word Count: 505

A/N: This was written for @deanwanddamons Rock SPN Flash Fan Fic Challenge 3. I was given the song Why Can't This Be Love by Van Halen. Reading the lyrics and listening to the song again made me think of young love, and the bad choices we make in our youth. I was also slightly influenced by Cassie and Dean's story. (Though this is obviously different.)

Thanks for hosting this challenge once again, my dear! I love them!

The beautiful divider at the bottom was created by @talesmaniac89

I didn’t understand regret until I watched heartbreak bloom in a pair of exquisite emerald eyes. It’s been years, but I still remember every word, every shift of emotion on his beautiful face.

I hadn’t grown up in the life like Dean had, but I’d been hunting for a few years when we met in our early twenties. His boyish grin, and undeniable charm had me tumbling happily into his bed. He’d surprised me; by day he was this rough, sometimes ferocious Soldier. But in my arms, in the dark, his lips were soft, and his hands unbearably gentle on my skin. 

He played my body perfectly, murmuring sweet words of praise and encouragement in my ear.

“So beautiful.”

“So perfect.”

”Need you so bad.” 

I fell fast, hard, and quick. 

But…well, I was so young, and so terrified of everything - of losing him, of keeping him, terrified of what it meant to love another hunter. So, when Dean spoke softly against my heart one night, as he laid in my arms, I panicked. His voice was soft and silky, a little trepidatious, but hopeful. 

“Y/N, I…I love you.”

I was sure he could hear my heart speed up to double time as I stopped breathing. Without speaking, I slid out from underneath him, and pulled on my t-shirt. He sat up slowly and swung his legs over the bed, his back to me, before standing and pulling on his boxers.

His voice was a bit harder when he spoke again. 

“You don’t have to say it back, or anything. I just…” He trailed off and I felt my heart crack as he turned to face me. I could see the deep hurt on his face, though he tried to cover it. He shrugged. “It’s not that big a deal.”

I shook my head. “It is a big deal, Dean. Those words are a big deal. And I…”

“What?” He challenged.

“I don’t think you really know what they mean. This…this isn’t love.” I said quietly, sure I was right.

Dean clenched his jaw tight, his eyes wounded. “No? Why not? Who says?”

I shook my head. “We’re too young, this is too fast. And our lives are…” I was silent for a moment, tears clogging my throat as the fear built within me. “It’s not love.”

Dean licked his lips, turning his head to hide his gaze from me. He nodded. “Yeah, okay.” 

He stepped into his jeans and pulled on his t-shirt. “Sorry.” He said simply, glancing at me long enough to let me see the tears he blinked away. “Didn’t realize it wasn’t love. Guess I was wrong, so - thanks for correcting me.” He turned and walked silently out the door.

More than a decade later my heart still picks up when someone mentions his name, and I’d give anything to tell him how wrong I was. 

Cause it was love, and it was real, and bright, and worth so much more than I gave it.

I miss it every day.

Tags under the cut:

1 - Jensen RPF + Any/All characters Jensen plays. @lyarr24 @deans-spinster-witch @impalaslytherin @maggiegirl17 @akshi8278 @candy-coated-misery0731 @deanswaywardgirl @slytherinlyn314 @globetrotter28 @jensensgirl @perpetualabsurdity @tristanrosspada-ackles @djs8891 @muhahaha303 @kayyay1219 @emily-winchester @recoveringpastaaddict @maximumkillshot @mimaria420 @sacriceria @envyaurora95 @lacilou @jc-winchester @spnwoman

2 - Dean Winchester Fics Only. @carryonwaywardgirl

3 - Any/All Fics (regardless of fandom/character.) @kazsrm67 @sexyvixen7 @alexxavicry @nancymcl @spalady26

4 - Everything (includes fan vid/DOOL edits as well) @unabashed-lover-of-fictional-men @maliburenee @supernatural4life2022 @spn730015 @kickingitwithkirk @waywardbaby @foxyjwls007 @deanwanddamons @deandreamernp @deanwithscissors @myloversgone @snowlovespie @leigh70 @all-alone-he-turns-to-stone @charred-angelwings @hopefuldreamers-world @jensensgotyoudean @thoughts-and-funnies @magssteenkamp @princessmisery666 @eevvvaa @mishkatelwarriorgoddess @waynes-multiverse @mrsjenniferwinchester @bernasaurus @jensenslady79 @courtn92 @avanatural @ellie-andthemachine @this-is-me19 @roseblue373 @katbratsupernaturalwhore @fanfic-n-tabulous

#dean x y/n #dean x reader #dean winchester angst #deanwanddamonsrockflashfic3

[cheerfullycatholic]

Hi — sorry to dump this on you, but I don’t really have anyone to talk to about this. I’ve been away from the church for a few months now, and have struggled to come back because in all honesty, I’ve never felt like I fit. I feel like there’s this certain mould young Catholics have to fit (extremely devout, extremely conservative, very openly Catholic). My faith has always been a very private part of my life; I don’t feel a need to flaunt it to others. But I feel like that lack of zeal makes me an outcast among other young Catholics. I’ve tried youth groups and things, but never really fit it. I’ve seen some downright horrible opinions from other Catholics online, and it makes me wonder if I’m really Catholic at all if I don’t share those opinions.

I guess what I’m trying to say is that I love the Church and its beliefs, but have had a lot of negative experiences with people in the Church, and don’t really feel like I belong.

Thank you for listening. I’ve always enjoyed your blog, and would appreciate prayers.

I've felt that way, too. I thought for so long that there was only one way to be Catholic, but I realized within the last year or so that there's more options than people talk about. You don't have to be extremely conservative to be Catholic, you don't have to be very outwardly expressive. Living a quiet life, focusing more on prayer than evangelism, isn't contrary to the Church. Religious brothers and sisters have been doing it for years, and you don't even have to be a religious brother or sister to do it. Your life can be as private as you want, though I do think it's important to make sure that your desire for privacy doesn't stem from something like shame or fear of judgement. Those things are scary, but we shouldn't fear being Catholic.

I wish that people in the Church were more open to accepting everyone and every way that a person can live their life while still being a devout, practicing Catholic, but unfortunately right now some of these people treat it like a club that you can only fully enter if you do say and believe certain things, when those things aren't necessary to be Catholic or don't even align with Catholic teaching (I see the problem the most with politics, like being judged for not supporting certain candidates or not hating someone who's done bad things). It's silly and it's wrong. But it's important to remember that we're not Catholic for the people in the Church, we're Catholic for Jesus. Just because people may misrepresent him and make you feel unwelcome, doesn't mean you don't have a place here

And yes, of course I'll pray 🖤

#prayer request

[gizkasparadise]

2023 wrapped: cdrama edition!

taking a page from @dangermousie and doing an overview of all the cdramas i watched this year (i'll do one for kdramas later)! listed in order of least favorite to most favorite. favorite =/= objectively best/most well-made. just the ones i had the most fun watching.

15 have a crush on you. oh dear lord. this drama should be a case study for what happens when a bad drama has charismatic actors and they keep you trapped hostage. i watched this whole damn thing hating every minute of it on behalf of the poor female lead who definitely deserved better. the ending? absolutely batshit, and not in a fun way. one of the weirdest, worst endings ive seen since with you

14 back from the brink. too kitschy for me, i didn't last long on this one (i think 2 eps lol).

13 gone with the rain. i wanted to like this one because i love sean sun and troll general is exactly what i want out of life. but i didn't like the weird daydream asides, constant animal noise sound effects, and i found everyone kind of off-putting in a non-watchable way, so i peaced out really quick--ep 4ish

12 here we meet again. i love janice wu. i continue to try out her dramas hoping for something to grab me again. this one was pretty boring/too focused on the work element and not the rest of it.

11 exclusive fairytale. i have a secret weakness for youth-to-working-life dramas, so tried this one out. flat, not a lot of chemistry, and very color-by-numbers. the show was clearly made to vehicle jun, and that's okay, but not my thing

10 the starry love. i wanted to like this one because the side characters were fun and i loved the male lead/prince of heaven and all his awkward "please leave by 9" energy. but it bored me overall and unlike most folks i had no interest in the demon secondary ship. i dropped around ep 10

9 my journey to you. it kills me to rank this one so low because it was my most anticipated cdrama this year, but i just couldn't get into it. the pacing was too slow for me, and i couldn't stand how everyone talked to each other (long. pauses. and then. staring. and then. whispers. always the. whispers). i dropped this around midway

8 the love you give me. the chemistry between the leads was cute and it was a decent modern romance. started losing me around the midpoint when the paternity reveal hit and the ML got way into boundary crossing because of it

7 circle of love. objectively not a good drama. in fact, a toxic and batshit drama that has probably made me a worse person for watching it. but gd did my messy ass enjoy the trainwreck.

6 road home. you really got to be in the mood for this one, but it's a nice, understated and slow melo romance. but def not a bingeable show since it takes its time with everything

5 wonderland of love. another drama that i dont think is objectively great, but two competent schemers/martial artists trying to one-up each other is like ship catnip for me and this was a show that lived or died by its ship. surprisingly tame for the screenwriter, and had a happy ending! popcorn watch.

4 till the end of the moon. me and this drama were in a bad romance, which i suppose is thematically appropriate. i hated parts of it, i was super invested in others. the post-dream human arc was giving wuthering heights tragic obsession incredibleness. even with its flaws, i think most of cdramaland is in agreement that lyx/tantai jin stole the ML competition this year. great gowns, beautiful gowns

3 story of kunning palace. i adored the characters in this drama! even when the plot was losing my interest, everyone was cast so well and had so much charisma that i stayed pretty hooked from ep 10ish on. absolutely loved the mean high school theatre director wreck that was xie wei, as well as the other (imo) true love interest of the show, princess leyang. the desperate speech about being like iron is gonna live rent-free in my head

& then 1&2 are way ahead of the others for me this year/a very close race between them!

2 a journey to love. i love this drama so much!!! i have not skipped or speed watched a single scene which for me is a huge feat! great character work across the board -- even the side characters have a lot of nuance and interesting dynamics between them. beautiful fight scenes. great ost. one of the best, most balanced main couples ive seen in a show. it's gonna break my heart in a few eps when it ends, but i'll be happy about it

1 lost you forever (s1). this drama came out of NOWHERE and the vicegrip it had on me while it was airing!!! my favorite FL this year (although a journey to love's ruyi is a close second), and just a ton of fun while also being quietly devastating in parts. i loved how lived in and tired the FL felt, enjoyed the various flavors of mess from her love interests, and enjoyed how extra it could go while still giving us really grounded and complicated characters. this drama gets extra points for converting me on several actors i did not think that highly of before the show.

overall, despite how many i dropped (lol writing it out made me realize i dropped so, so many), cdramas delivered for me this year! my top two are on my short list for favorite dramas, period. everyone go watch a journey to love and lost you forever if you havent yet!!!

AWARDS

Favorite ship: definitely goes to ruyi and yuanzhou from a journey to love. it's just nice to see a couple that mutually supports each other's murders

Favorite FL: xiaoyao from lost you forever with ruyi from journey to love as a very close runner-up. i am here for this year's theme of competent, jaded ladies trying to reclaim their lives

Favorite ML: objectively, tantai jin from till the end of the moon should win this, but story of kunning palace's xie wei was just so entertainingly grumpy, petty, and unhinged which is a winning combo for me.

Favorite 2FL: princess yang ying from a journey to love. she's doing amazing and im proud of her!!

Favorite 2ML: technically third male lead, but xiang liu from lost you forever was my favorite to watch and had the best tuxedo mask exits

Best Cast: a journey to love, i literally adore all of them, even the ones i hate

Best Blood Cough: tantai jin, you beautiful bastard who needs a bib

#cdrama #gizka 2023 wrapped

[loomimoosh]

Ok I'm going to say this out loud because I can't include it in my rewrite because of the way I've butchered the family tree but

Squilf should have gotten with Rainwhisker.

Look, let me lay this out.

Sootfur dies during the badger attack and Squirrelflight is the one who has to break the news to Rainwhisker. He says he'll talk to Sorreltail about it, but he appreciates her trying to save his brother even though it was too late. He opens up a little about losing their mother to badgers as well, and thanks her for trying to help Sootfur, but knows it was too late for anyone to have done anything.

In the coming moons, Rainwhisker is plagued by thoughts of badgers. He had lost his mother and his brother to them. His sister was poisoned by someone who, if you consider the canon family tree, would have been their half brother, a person who later killed their father. Rainwhisker himself was attacked by an owl in his youth. It's easy to see how he could have become convinced that the world was against him.

Squirrelflight has been struggling, herself. Being batted between two toms who are both increasingly bad for her, not being able to help her sister, all of ThunderClan struggling to settle into their new home...Squirrelflight has learned that she thrives on helping others. And here's someone who she tried to help and failed, and now he's suffering for it. Tossing and turning in his sleep, scared of his own shadow, trying his hardest every day and still coming out worse for it.

They're both struggling, is what I'm saying. And they could find some comfort in each other. They're both good cats, if a little spunky. And having someone be nice to her after all the nonsense Brambleclaw and Ashfur have put her through could really help Squirrelflight. They don't have to collide fast. Just enough to consider each other as trustworthy.

They could be friends. Coworkers, at least.

They fill their days with service, trying to build a life after a tumultuous move. Everyone has lost. Everyone is struggling. They're no different, no more special than anyone. So they both, individually, put that aside. Everyone else seems to be doing the same. If nothing else, it gets her mind off her relationship issues.

And then Leafpool approaches Squirrelflight. Leafpool is pregnant. She doesn't have to say who, Squirrelflight knows. But this is bad. Even after the messiness, no one would understand like Squirrelflight does. It was a brief moment of insecurity that is now having consequences. Leafpool is scared.

All Squirrelflight wants to do is help. But she can't take the kits without a father. She's seen how Daisy and her kits are treated. These kits deserve a normal life, free from the judging gaze of their peers. A good, loving family. Squirrelflight can give them that. But they need to be ThunderClan.

Leafpool insists; it can't be Brambleclaw. She has her own reasons, and Squirrelflight isn't sure she agrees with those reasons, but she'll agree to the stipulation. It's the one demand Leafpool makes. And Squirrelflight knows her sister. She knows how scared she is. She wouldn't even dare ask if it wasn't important enough. If the choice is Brambleclaw or the nightmare that comes with revealing the truth, she'd rather take the latter. And that alone is enough for Squirrelflight to agree to it.

But she doesn't think she can trust Ashfur, either. Not after what he did. Not after Hawkfrost.

Someone she can trust. Someone who understands the struggle of wanting to do anything to help your sibling, and not being able to do enough.

Her mind goes to him.

And so she asks. Carefully, as to not reveal the game. But she asks how he would feel about something like that. If she needed a favor, would he help? If she needed a fall guy, would he do it?

He's a little scared. He won't give a clear answer. There's something big she's not telling him.

But he promises that she can trust him. He just needs to know.

Her words are his secret. He'll take it to his grave. But he can't promise more if he doesn't know the promise he's making.

And so she tells him. In a moment of weakness, she tells him.

Leafpool, Crowfeather, the kits, everything. She feels vile telling this secret to anyone. But he listens, and he takes it. He takes it all to heart.

And it excites him, honestly.

The idea of being a father. Of having someone else to love. He's lost all but one of his favorite people. There's nothing he'd love more than being a dad, honestly. And he'd protect them, and he'd love them, and he would take every burden he could off her shoulders, if nothing more than for the love of being the father he never truly had.

He wants to do this.

And that's the thing that gets her the most. It's no longer that she's asking him to do this, to make a sacrifice for her and her sister. Now, he's begging her to let him love these little things he's never met, who haven't even been born.

And it's done.

And something happens to him. This idealized life he has in his head becomes his reality. He spends time with her, every day, talking and doting and being so excited about this. She knows it's because she's the only one he can talk to about this. But it's a good show. Whispers start to pop up. Natural whispers.

She's not even the one who's pregnant, but the show fits the narrative so well that no one questions it. Save two. But he becomes a different cat when they're involved. He stands up to Brambleclaw, taking the heat for her. He upstages Ashfur, showing her genuine kindness detached from romance.

And when the time comes, he goes with them. Sees the faces of his kits on day one as they wiggle at Leafpool's belly. It's unconventional, but it's his.

It's no small miracle that one of them is the same cloudy gray that Sootfur was. Another the same dark shade that Darkstripe was, and her and the third, a little golden kit, both have the fur that he does, the kind that squares the face and broadens the shoulders.

They're perfect.

When the six return to camp, Rainwhisker keeps his word. He loves them like his own, and no one questions a thing. Sorreltail coos that Hollykit looks so much like him, reminding them of their mother.

And Jaykit has his eyes.

And when the others whisper about those eyes, call him broken, Rainwhisker is quick to shut the whispers down. He doesn't let the words linger.

When Jaykit begins to echo them, he reassures his little warrior. No one, not even Jaykit himself, will say those words to his son.

Their relationship is just a show, Squirrelflight is painfully aware. But day by day, she starts to see him. Past the pain and misery and loss is a cat whose life has been in the name of love. And he's strong, and sweet, and he does everything for others. Wouldn't let her suffer a day in her life if he had the choice.

It's starting to feel less like a show.

And when Jaypaw is apprenticed to Brightheart, Squirrelflight knows he's right to be insulted. Firestar sees them both differently.

But not Rainwhisker. And he's quick to say as much. Telling Jaypaw he knows Brightheart is a good mentor. A fantastic hunter, a thorough thinker, and a kind soul.

She and Cloudtail had trained him, after all. It's only fitting for his son to be her apprentice, too.

It makes Jaypaw feel better, even just a little. Like he's not as broken as the others say. Rainwhisker sees past all that.

He has a way with words. An honest way. A good heart, a warm smile. It's not just pretty words he says. He's so genuine in what he says.

Squirrelflight starts to wonder if those pretty words he tells her are more true than she believed.

She feels lucky to have had him in her life.

She wonders if it's too late to ask him to stand beside her.

#wc #warriors #warrior cats #long post #idk im havin a weird day i wanted to put this out there

[mynameisnotsoda]

Explaining my entire dsmpsona playlist because I can

P.s. every mention of Soda in this post isn't me, i just dont feel like putting c! In front of it every single time LMAO

Also i dont think i ever posted the ref on tumblr!!?!??! Criminal but putting it here is better methinks

I also put this in my studentbur playlist, which feels fitting for both of them. However for Adam its more metaphorical whereas with Soda its more literal.

I have my own shapeshifter lore that's loitering in my brain that i need to write down eventually BUT the basics are essentially that shapeshifters are "born" from the planet. They CAN come from other shapeshifters but only once and most choose not to have a bio kid.

So basically, Soda literally popped out of the ground one day, was found by Sapnap and then adopted by Bad and Skeppy. Soda was maybe physically 9/10 years old and was so curious about the world and excited to experience life. If any creature could possibly be made of pure love, its them.

Growing up Soda got REALLY attached to Bad, they clung onto him a lot and it was to the point where it was probably unhealthy. Of course Bad noticed, which made him actually set some boundaries despite not really wanting to. Skeppy was able to convince him, though, as when it comes to the kids hes the voice of reason.

So, Bad would start off by telling Soda that he was going to be gone, leading up to him just disappearing for maybe a few hours at a time before eventually coming back. Eventually Soda was able to function without Bad, but that ended up backfiring as they just latched onto Sapnap instead.

With Soda's attachment to their brother, they tagged along with him when he went out fairly often but after being weened off of Bad it became more frequent. Soda and Sapnap were practically attached at the hip, regardless of Sapnap's protesting.

With a group of teenagers they were obviously doing some reckless, stupid shit and Soda was just along for the ride! At first Dream and George hated Soda—they were just Sapnap's annoying younger sibling—but eventually they got used to Soda being around. Especially since they may have persuaded Soda to use their shapeshifting for nefarious purposes.

At first everyone found Soda adorable, their cheery optimism, endless energy and amusing naivety was a part of their charm. But then it became...obnoxious.

Sapnap always had a short temper, he tried his best to handle it, but sometimes he'd just snap at Soda when they became too much of a handful. He was always quick to apologize but it affected Soda deeply.

Soda very much struggled with any sort of negative emotions, when they felt it—it hit them hard. One day, it was enough to send them spiraling, having a panic attack alone in their room. This was also the first time memories of their past lives resurfaced. At first it was rather intriguing, though a jumpscare, but then it just got worse.

It seemed like Soda's lives were always filled with turmoil and a constant feeling of dread. The stronger their emotions became the more fragments of memories would appear. Soda didn't tell anyone about this.

Skipping much further ahead, Soda obviously sided with the Dteam during the revolution. They were family, in Soda's eyes at least. Which made it incredibly easy for Dream to use that to his advantage. He used them in every way that he could to win the war, even going as far as to try and make Soda resent Tommy and Tubbo. Soda was a spy, mostly, turning into a cat to effortlessly infiltrate the enemy. They heard and saw everything, but part of them felt bad for it, so they never told Dream everything. He noticed.

The horrors of being a child soldier.

Dream's obsession with power and control was never obvious, not to his friends and certainly not to Soda. They truly believed he had good intentions despite going to war with Wilbur. Then again, Soda doesn't understand what war really is. But the pressure to keep up with Dream's demands and avaid his increasing irritably became exhausting and overwhelming. Yet Soda believed it was their fault.

Tubbo and Tommy weren't safe from the horrors either, they had that much in common with Soda. The three of them went through hell, basically.

Dream.

Aaaand tumblr wont let me add more songs so im cutting this into parts through reblogs. I'll probably continue this later (bc its almost 2am pFF) and might post the second part before i go to sleep like im doing now :P

I am cringe but I am free

#dsmp!soda #dsmpsona #dsmp #dream smp #dsmp oc #dsmp au

[thelikesoffinn]

Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable.

This boy needed help. He needed someone to show him that life was not just pain and suffering, that there was more once you break through years of abuse.

And I'm not talking as a sappy fan here, but as a licensed social worker.

Without a doubt, this bitch would have been my favourite client. He already IS my favourite client.

Now, would it be hard to work with him?

Fuck yeah.

He would Rebel against anything I say, he would try to intimidate me and keep me far away, he would most definitely be rude as fuck and make fun of most things that leave my mouth. And he would flip his shit hard whenever I touch any subject he doesn't want to talk about.

On bad days, days where he was beaten and abused again, he would be an absolute menace. He would probably throw chairs and tables around, start fist fights with the other kids in my group and just be a proper pain in my arse.

So yes, Billy hargrove would be difficult. Especially in the beginning.

But that's what abused kids do.

They want you to stay the fuck away from them. Because all they know is pain. They've been hurt so much, that they can't believe it's not normal. That not every one is out to hurt them. Because people don't care for them. They don't care about them.

Social workers are "in it for the money" anyway. They don't give a shit, much less about them. Much less about kids like Billy.

Good things don't happen to them.

Good people don't just stumble into their lives.

Because nothing good ever does.

But you know what kids like Billy also do? What I've seen so many times at my job, working with troubled youths?

I've seen kids like Billy Hargrove beam at compliments. At genuine compliments, compliments that aren't used to get them to do something. They dead arse break a grin so wide it blinds you, despite not wanting to.

I've seen them get glassy eyes when you welcome them and tell them you're happy to see them around. Because they feel appreciated, like them being there is a good thing.

I've seen them slowly opening up, once they realise that I'm not going anywhere and that I, in fact, actually care about their well being.

I've seen them go all soft and huggy because they crave warmth and kindness. They crave what they never get at home.

I've seen kids have fun, fun that they've never been allowed to have at home. They are the older siblings, the only providers. They carry responsibilities the shouldn't have to carry at home. But with my colleagues and I, they don't. They can be themselves and have fun. Being silly, being young and being genuinely happy because they are allowed to be.

Just imagine Billy breaking an involuntary grin because you tell him how neat his camaro looks, all clean and shiny today.

Imagine him getting flustered when you tell him how nice it is to have him back with the group while you pass along some sweets or whatever.

Respect and responsibility? My arse. Everyone get the waterballoons, we'll have a fight. And we all know Billy would hold back at first, pretend it's stupid, before ambition hits and the kid tries to be the last dry one standing. he's laughing with the other kids, dripping wet by the end of it. And he enjoys it massively.

How he suddenly allows other people to pat his back, hug him or bump his hips. How he actually starts liking it, touch starved as the boy likely is.

Now imagine Billy Hargroves face once he realises that he doesn't have to scare people away because whatever his dad taught him was bullshit. That he really doesn't need to repeat any of the homophobic or racist slurs Neil threw around ever again because he doesn't believe them anyway.

So yes, Billy Hargrove was not irredeemable. He was not. He was a boy that needed work, definitely, but he was far FAR from being a lost cause.

Billy was just a poor eighteen year old boy that needed warmth and softness. That needed a chance to learn that people cared, truly cared, about him like no one in fucking Hawkins ever did. Not his father, not Susan, not Max.

Billy needed one person who understood him, cared for him and taught him that life was more than pain and suffering.

And its fucking bullshit that he never got to meet that person because killing him was easier.

No, he was not irredeemable and everyone who says he was just chooses the easy road. Because seeing and accepting layers is so much harder than saying he's a piece of shit, am I right?

#billy hargrove #stranger things #billy stranger things #billy needs a hug #billy needs help #get my boy a social worker #fuck neil hargrove #billy x platonic!reader #billy hargrove appreciation #justice for billy hargrove #billy x reader #last one is just for the attention #a penny for my thoughts #billy hargrove cuddles #we love our boy