#maybe focus on getting my wrists better and go back to uni in a year or two

[vincess-princess]

in darkness shall you be reborn

Chapter 13.

Word count: 3073 Warnings: a bit of violence, i guess? A/N: hi hello it's me just a month after the previous chapter. my classes started and every day im running to work and then to uni across the entire city like a headless chicken so i don't really have much energy for anything else. but i'm gonna try hard to keep posting semi-regularly at least!

Vince’s guess proved true when he climbed the stairs to the hatch and peered outside. The pirates gathered in the middle of the deck in a circle, and within it there was movement and frequent, irregular clunking, each eliciting cheering or booing from the pirates. Occasionally he could hear Nikki shout. Vince hesitated a bit, pretty convinced it would be unwise to show up after Nikki so explicitly disapproved of it, but his bitterness over the recent humiliation prevailed and he climbed onto the deck and walked behind pirates’ backs until he distinguished Mick’s.

“Vince? Whatcha doing here?” Mick asked, startled when Vince patted his shoulder.

“Wanted to see what’s going on. I’m always missing all the fun.”

“Well, you have. Happy now?” Mick wanted to add something, but his voice drowned in Nikki’s yelling.

“Tom, are you trying to show us a minuet here? What’s all this leg-kicking? Feet firmly on the floor, shoulder-width apart, knees bent, or you’ll get knocked down immediately! Bobby, push him! See, you almost fell! You gotta be steady as a mountain or you’ll get trampled. Get in the stance now. Lower! Bend your goddamn knees! Alright, that will do. Bobby, push him again. See? Didn’t sway a bit. Now keep that in mind as you go for another round. Three, two, one, go!”

The clunking resumed.

“Oh yes. Finally it’s not me he’s yelling at. But – fencing lessons on a pirate ship, really? And you all are fine with him bossing you around like that?”

“Well,” Mick sighed, “you too admitted that the motherfucker is damn good. And you can’t let your skill go rusty, not in our walk of life. Besides, it’s a good way for the guys to blow off steam.”

“Can’t wait to see you in action.” The respect the crew and even the captain held for the cook was obvious, and Vince was dying to know what caused it. Mick didn’t look much of a fighter, but pirates were the kind of people who only respected brutal force, so there must have been something Vince couldn’t see – not yet, at least.

“You won’t,” Mick ruthlessly thwarted his hopes. “Twenty years ago, maybe. Now my bones won’t let me.”

“You don’t take part in raids then?”

“Close combat is not the only way to take down an enemy, y’know.” Mick patted his holster. No other explanation was needed.

They watched Tom lose to Bobby again when the wooden sword of the latter smashed into his wrist with a crack – hopefully the crack of wood – making him cry out and drop his weapon. His opponent was two heads taller, his arm as thick as Tom’s leg. Tom wasn’t capable of taking his opponent down by force no matter how hard he tried.

“The right stance here won’t help, not with their size difference,” Vince told Mick. “His endurance is also lacking. The longer the fight, the smaller his chance to win. The guy’s only hope is speed. He needs to focus on that.”

Mick gave him a long, hard look.

“You really think you know better than Nikki? He took you down in a couple minutes.”

“I know my theory.” Vince shrugged. “He, on the other hand, seems to be an intuitive type. He honed his own skill to perfection, sure, but he’s got gaps in his overall knowledge of the craft. For example, how it can be readjusted for different body types.”

“Well, your ‘knowledge of the craft’ didn’t help you much,” Mick said sharply. Then, seeing Vince’s hurt expression, softened somewhat. “You better keep it to yourself. Nikki’s not gonna like it if you go around undermining his superiority like that.”

“No one would listen to me anyway,” Vince huffed. “He made sure of that.”

“I wouldn’t be so convinced,” Mick smiled mysteriously.

“What do you mean?”

But the old pirate refused to elaborate no matter how hard Vince tried, and soon Vince gave up and switched his attention to the new pair of fighters in the ring. Slash and Duff were inseparable even during the training, Vince thought, as he watched them get into positions.

This fight was quite a bit fairer, as Slash’s almost snake-like agility compensated somewhat for Duff’s height and weight advantage. It could only do so much, though: multiple times he got too close to Duff to land a blow powerful enough to knock down, and imminently had to retreat when facing a counterattack.

“Are there, like, rules for the fight?” Vince whispered to Mick. “Or just freestyle?”

“Only one: the fight goes on until one is downed or disarmed.”

“No prohibited moves, nothing?”

Mick looked at him like he was an idiot. “The only exception is the eyes. Everything else is fine, as long as they don’t get too excited. Limit them now, they will never show their full potential in a real fight.”

“And if someone gets seriously injured?”

“With a wooden stick? Don’t be ridiculous. Anyone who’d let that happen doesn’t belong on the Shout. And Izzy’s here eating our food for a reason.”

Vince involuntarily searched the crowd for the skinny, black-clad surgeon. To his surprise, next to him he spotted a familiar ginger head.

“So almost everything is off limits then.”

“I’ve been trying to say that the whole time.”

“Then why doesn’t Slash go for Duff’s crotch? He’s gotten close enough several times by now. Duff’s completely open, he won’t have the time to parry or dodge. It’s so obvious - but Slash doesn’t seem to notice.”

Mick looked at him with amusement.

“Damn, you’re vicious. Maybe he just doesn’t want to be a dick, you ever thought of that?”

“Alright, not the crotch,” Vince backed down, belatedly realizing that he too wouldn’t want to do it to a friend. “The knee’s open as well, and you can topple anyone with a well-placed strike there- Oh. That must have hurt.”

Duff’s sword collided with Slash’s shoulder with a loud crash, kicking the weapon out of his hand and almost knocking him to the ground. Slash staggered back, grasping at the hurt shoulder with his left hand and cursing like… well, like a sailor.

“Sorry, mate!” Duff raised his hands in an apologetic gesture, but Slash spat on the deck in disdain, turned his back on Duff and walked away proudly, plopping down onto a bench just a few feet away from Vince and Mick. Duff frowned, but didn’t follow him; instead he handed over his sword to the next combatant and disappeared in the opposite part of the crowd.

“Slash, you gotta learn to lose!” Vince heard Nikki’s voice. “And also work on your grip!”

Pirates in the circle laughed. When Slash showed them the middle finger, they laughed louder. Vince swallowed a lump of yearning in his throat; it slid down his chest and stomach, coating his insides in cold slime. This laughter was so different from what he was always getting. Not jeering and mocking, but light-hearted and good-natured, the one you would hear from your friends when you trip over. But they weren’t his friends and would never be.

Vince hastily kicked the unwanted emotion into the back of his mind and forcefully smoothened the frown on his face before turning to Mick and speaking to him as cheerfully as he could.

“Wow. Did I just see the inseparable couple separate?”

“That’s not for long,” Mick waved his hand. “Slash only gets pissed at Duff when he loses, which is almost always. But he comes around quickly. Wait and see, they’ll be thick as thieves in an hour again.”

“Well, no wonder he loses all the time. His grip is fine, perfecting it further won’t yield much use. His problems stem from trying to use a strategy not fit for his capabilities. He’s pushing forward like he’s got all 200 pounds in him, and of course it doesn’t work. He should make use of his agility instead.”

Mick sighed.

“Do you just turn a deaf ear to me every time I open my mouth? You won’t like it if Nikki learns you’ve been shit-talking him. That includes talking to me. You never know who might be listening nearby.”

Vince couldn’t help but look around suspiciously, a chill creeping down his spine. There were several pirates nearby, but all of them were captivated by the fight. Were – or just pretended to be?

Then he looked back at Mick and grew even more uneasy.

“You wouldn’t…?” he trailed off, recalling everything he told Mick over those days on the Shout. Were Nikki to learn some of that, Vince would be fucked.

Not a muscle moved on Mick’s face, but his features as though sharpened, lines on his face deepened, and the chilling-blue gaze turned outright freezing.

“I’m not a snitch, princess. I know how to keep my mouth shut. That’s why I lasted so long here.” He looked away, crossing his arms on his chest. “You know, if Nikki had learned about your midnight stroll, you wouldn’t be sleepin’ in the galley no more.”

“Oh. Right.” Vince’s guts twisted into a knot. Did he just turn away the only friendly face on this ship? “Sorry, man. I never thought you’d do something like that.”

“Thinking is not a sin. Running your mouth before you think is.” Mick’s voice was still cold, sending Vince further down the anxiety spiral.

“How many more ways of saying ‘shut up’ can you invent?” Vince scrambled to come up with a joke to test the waters. To his relief, corners of Mick’s mouth curved into a smile.

“Definitely not enough for you to actually do it.”

“Well, who else is going to provide you with unwelcome yet high-quality commentary then?” Vince smiled, feeling the knot in his stomach loosen. This felt damn close.

Mick let out an exaggerated sigh. “If only you did your goddamn job with the same zeal… Y’know, if you’ve got so much energy to spare, maybe I should increase your workload?”

“I don’t like the direction this conversation is taking.”

“The only way to stop a conversation is to-“

“Fine, fine!” Vince groaned. “I’m shutting up.”

They watched a few more pairs of fighters. The majority of them were surprisingly decent, somehow turning the absolute lack of technique into their advantage. Those that didn’t manage to do so probably didn’t last long in this profession. Some, like Axl, functioned entirely on uncontained rage, which worked up to an opponent intrepid enough not to piss his breeches at the sight of an armed to the teeth pirate charging at him with insane eyes and a naked blade. Judging by how long Axl managed to last on the pirate ship, though, this tactics must have been working pretty well.

The ring emptied, and a strange silence descended on the ship for a moment before the pirates erupted in exulted cries. Vince couldn’t understand what caused it until a few seconds later, when he saw Nikki and Tommy walk into the ring, wielding real, steel rapiers.

“No way,” Vince could only mumble, watching them get into positions. “They’ll kill each other.”

“Relax, princess.” Mick looked at him condescendingly. “They do it all the time. Haven’t had any accidents.”

“Yet.” Not that Vince would mind Nikki getting impaled or, God bless, even killed, but it was much more likely to happen to Tommy, and, as backhanded and humiliating his protection was, it was still protection. Mick could only help Vince when on his territory; behind the closed doors of Nikki’s cabin Tommy was the only one capable of bringing Nikki to his senses.

“They know what they’re doing. You’ll see.”

The two pirates drew their rapiers.

Last time Vince only saw Nikki and Tommy in action together was at a periphery of his vision that was already clouded with rage, and then Nikki got him too fast to really understand anything except that he was damn good. Now Vince could see them properly, and that sure was a sight.

They started off slowly, even languidly, rapiers pointing to the ground, steps soft. Tommy attacked first – leaped forward, rapier flashing in the sun. Nikki ducked, his hair flying; a loud clank, and Tommy jumped back just as effortlessly, grinning from ear to ear.

Almost immediately – another strike, a whoosh in the air, another rapid retreat. Tommy pranced around Nikki like a young thoroughbred, showering him in quick, untargeted stabs, never too long in one place for Nikki to land a counterattack yet neither gathering enough momentum to penetrate Nikki’s defense. Not that it was even possible: not once had Nikki opened up enough for Tommy to land a hit, firmly standing his ground, parrying with short, precise movements, never move more than a step away from his original position. If Tommy wanted to exhaust him through endless attacks, he only achieved the opposite. His style would have worked on someone with worse reflexes or less steady stance; Nikki had neither of those things, so Tommy’s strikes, flashy as they were, grew shallower and more predictable as he depleted his energy. He wasn’t really to blame for this, though: so far Vince couldn’t spot any fault in Nikki’s move set, detect a single miscalculated movement. There really was not much to be done in this case.

Tommy must have grown tired and lost his focus, but Vince spotted the moment Nikki shifted his weight forward to counterattack earlier than the first mate. Chary and discreet – unexperienced fighters would even think lazy - in his movements before, now he charged forward with such force the lines of his silhouette blurred for a split second. Vince flinched, as if it was his stomach the cold steel was going to pierce. There was no way Tommy could parry that.

And Tommy didn’t. He swirled in place, turning his body sideways – rather awkwardly, but it worked. Nikki’s rapier stabbed the air mere inches away from his skin and withdrew just as rapidly when he returned back into his initial position, restoring the defense sacrificed for a daring move.

The pirates cheered and clapped. Vince looked at Mick round-eyed.

“This isn’t a performance. It’s real.”

“Of course, it’s real. This ain’t a circus.”

“He almost got him.”

“The key word here is ‘almost’.”

“A fraction of a second later, and we’d be wiping Tommy’s guts off the deck now.”

Mick pursed his lips in exasperation. “You don’t have to watch if you’re so faint-hearted. Nobody invited you in the first place.”

“It’s not about me,” Vince bristled. “It’s about your captain and first mate fighting to death and you all just watching.”

“Since when you’re so worried about them?” Mick narrowed his eyes. “Do you want me to think all your shaking and sniveling and midnight walking is just a show then? Because you go on like this, I might just start thinking that.”

Vince froze, mouth half-open. Yeah, he’d rather Mick spat him in the face than say something like that. And he thought hearing the faking accusations from Tommy was hurtful. Turned out it was a splinter next to Mick’s backstab.

“You think I’m faking?” he asked, his voice two tones higher than he wanted it to be. “You think I’m secretly enjoying it?”

Mick rolled his eyes. “No. I don’t think anyone would enjoy that. But to me, you do get too dramatic about it. A whore gets the same treatment as you every night, but you don’t see them lining up to throw themselves off the docks. And their pay usually only covers food and lodging, which you get for free here, so no benefits in that either.”

“You’re saying I’m overreacting.”

“I’m saying that you don’t realize how much worse it could have gotten for you if Nikki hadn’t decided to keep you here. You think they’d waste your pretty ass away at a plantation, like the rest of your crew? Ha. There are things that even whores won’t do, and that’s where slaves come in. And from what I’ve seen on you, Nikki’s actually pretty mild in that regard.”

“You call that mild-“ Vince began indignantly when a loud thump interrupted him, drawing his and Mick’s attention back to the fight.

Nikki, who up to this moment kept tight defense with only a few quick attacks here and there, went into assault. If Vince hadn’t seen him in that state before, the sudden change in demeanor from what seemed as careful and unwieldy, sluggish even, would have come as a very unpleasant surprise. It would also most likely be the last surprise of his life. Nikki’s blade moved so fast it was more akin to a silvery gust of wind; his whole body was like a string, receptive to so much as blinking of the opponent, almost predicting it. A chill creeped down Vince’s spine: he didn’t even realise during their incredibly short clash how damn deadly the pirate captain was. It even seemed as if he was purposefully holding back during their fight.

Tommy held up to his second-in-command status pretty well, though. It was clear how much his movement coordination lacked compared to Nikki, but his reaction and distance perception were incredibly well-developed for a self-taught former child beggar. His technique, or rather the mastery with which he employed the lack thereof, would first induce a heart attack in Vince’s swordsmanship teacher, who then, after being brought back to his senses, would offer to teach the ingenious savage free of charge. It wasn’t a surprise Tommy stood out among the rest of the pirates, and it was pretty clear Nikki chose him as his first mate not just because he and Nikki were a thing.

But the continuous attacks of the first half of the fight exhausted Tommy, and now Nikki made sure he didn’t have a single moment to catch his breath. Vince could see Tommy’s movements grow jerky and spasmic, his reaction time getting longer. His imminent defeat was a matter of a couple of minutes.

Vince’s estimate was very close: one hundred and fifty-two seconds later (he counted) Tommy miscalculated a step and ended up closer to Nikki than he intended. The punishment for the mistake was fast and merciless. The rapier rattled against the wood of the deck as Tommy collided with it with a loud crash and a pained groan. Nikki stepped up, lined the tip of his rapier with Tommy’s twitching Adam’s apple.

“You lose,” he said, smiling.

#motley crue #nikki sixx #vince neil #tommy lee #mick mars #motley crue fanfiction #my writing #in darkness shall you be reborn #it really feels like my writing from half a year ago (this chapter) is so much better than my current writing #i havent been writing much lately (not of my own will) because i have no energy left for it #and what i read i read in russian #so my english gets worse #i dont even scroll tumblr much

[raksh-writes]

Tfw you need to make a kinda Big decision concerning your life/future and have absolutely no idea what to do

Hate the feeling, tbh

#personal #Raksh posts #yes its about my uni again #or rather partly about it #Im yet again battling with myself about how I should proceed with my life #should I go on for the masters?? spend another two years in uni writing another Far Bigger Thesis too?? #all while my wrists are still... not well to say it lightly #or just stop here with (hopefully) bachelors thesis stay home and look for a job #see what life brings me here #maybe focus on getting my wrists better and go back to uni in a year or two? #all is even more complicated by the fact the uni is so far away an Id need to decide soon to start booking the room #and we still kinda dont know how the next year will even look like online or hybrid or stationary #no idea #I mean stopping now feels kinda like giving up?? but that might be my perfectionist gifted kid abitions talking ;/ #Im honestly the most worried about my wrists #and also getting stuck far away from home in a small room when the hni gets smacked with online classes again #Ive been home for over a year now and it also feels like starting uni all over again but harder?? #I really dont know what to do #now Im kinda waiting to just defend my thesis which I will hopefully get right and decide then #but I am stalling really #Im meeting with my old friends on saturday so maybe I'll be able to get it off my chest and they'll advise on it #Ive been also thinking about contacting my therapist again #havent talked with her in years but maybe itd be helpful too #I just really dont know #continuing to Masters kinda feels only like getting a higher degree just to get it and study for two years more #nothing much else besides that - with still fucked up wrists #ughhhhhhhhhhhghghgg I dont like this ;<

[itstheendofthegoddamnworld]

Shadow Monster x Female Reader (Commissioned Piece)

So... I’m back. Been a while, but I have finished my third year at uni. Feels weird, but these three years have been a lot and I have many good memories. I look forward to the future and hope that I get to continue something I love.

Support me on Ko-fi!~  |  Patreon

Relationship: Male monster x human reader

Mornings Like These

On crisp days like these, mornings felt so much more appreciated.

Languid music filled the air as you poured your cup of coffee into the mug you got from the boys on Mother’s day, the same hum drawing from your lips, languorously continuing with your chores to yourself, when a pair of warm arms pulled you back into the reverberating chest of your lover.

“Mornin’,” you replied sweetly, earning a groan and kiss from Hank, his wispy black tendrils dipped in and out of the air when he was sleepy, trying his best to concentrate and not clip out. “Mornin’.” his voice was deep and rich like honey, always able to bring a smile to your lips and a shiver to reach down your spine. Maybe he was aware of how much you enjoyed his raspy voice every morning, teasingly luring you each time with it. 

“How’d you sleep?”

“Good, but I didn’t have you in my arms when I woke up.” Hank groaned against the back of your neck, idly sniffing your hair, but his arms would not budge when you tried moving to turn towards him. “I had to be up before the boys were,” you giggled when a wisp ticked the side of your cheek. “They’ve already gone out with Cerberus.”

“Good, that means I can have you all to myself,” he murmured incoherently, tugging you back. “Come back to bed, darlin’.”

“You know I can’t, I have to watch over breakfast.” You sang, turning a gaze to the pancakes already needing to be flipped. “They’ll burn.”

The sound he made was similar to a kicked puppy, whining in the back of his throat as he whined your name. “No buts, mister!” You giggled, enjoying how he grew lax around you, very much aware that he could phase-out of the air around you and head back to bed with a pout on his lips. “You can help by flipping the pancakes.”

“Or, I could help with something else…” he drawled, his entire demeanour changing so swiftly that you hadn’t been prepared. The mug in your grip almost fell to the counter had Hank, not been quick enough to pull it out of your grasp and put it down seamlessly. “You seem… tense.”

“I’m not tense, baby, I just want to make sure everyone eats and they don’t eat concrete spheres.” You twisted around to focus on the stove, but Hank was quick to pass through you, quickly to hug you now from the front. You halted, bumping head to chest almost clumsily, earning a deep rumble of mirth through your ears. “Oops.” He chortled, snuggling into you, pecking at your jaw.

“Hank, you know I don’t like it when you do that.” You sighed, earning the shadowy being to kiss everywhere but your lips in apology. “And now, you’re trying to make up for it.”

“No…” you snorted before you could even notice. “Come now, darlin’. I know something that could bring that pretty smile back on your face.”

“What would that be?”

“Well,” Hank slid his fingers into your hair, smoothing your scalp. “You, me and a warm bed that begs for you to come back.”

You finally looked up at him, the pout on your lips now was evident that his words were working on you. “Hank-”

“No, it’s fine, I’ll just go.” His grasp around you weakened but you had been quick to grasp his wrist before he had the chance to disappear. The look on his face told you that he was relieved you had pulled him back, his bright white eyes expecting and bold. “Is there something you need, darlin’?”

“Stay, here. With me.” You pulled him back to holding you, allowing him to peck and kiss at your face and neck. “Are you just going to continue doing this until the boys come back?”

“Maybe,” he hummed. “But I could also say things like how beautiful you look right now. How you’re practically glowing.” You scoffed, “Hardly, I haven’t had a shower.” Hank chuckled in your ear, nibbling your lobe, “We could always go for one, a quickie.” 

Your cheeks flushed as you startled yourself to almost knocking the batter of pancake mix to the floor, moving it just out of your view to turn and face your lover. “Hank.” “What? Am I making you flustered?” You felt his solid form ground yourself against your behind, grinding something against the small of your back. “Am I getting you a bit excited?

”“No,” you chewed your lip, turning so he couldn’t see how red your face was becoming, shifting eyes when you heard him laugh with amusement. “You’re just distracting me.”

“Oh? Am I?” Hank purred, grinding more of him against you, groaning at the small amounts of friction. “Maybe you need the distraction, my love.” The heavy weight from Hank was making you grow light in the head, your legs almost buckling from the feelings that were building in the pit of your stomach, fluttering with the familiar pleasures that roused when he brought the smallest of pleasures across your body.

You felt him turn you back around to face him, your hands wounding up being rested against his chest, pulling you to him to kiss your lips sweetly, his tongue swiping against your bottom lip silently, begging for an answer. You finally complied, delving into that sweetness as he held you so lovingly to you, forgetting about all but focusing on one another, tugging and pulling on one another for more.

What you failed to hear was the wide slam of the door, many footsteps coming through closer and closer into the kitchen, some laughter, some jovial conversations bouncing across the walls. “Hey, ma, you don’t know if you’ve seen- Oh my God!” The two of you swiftly pulled away from one another, flushed to the cheeks, when you looked back into the doorway, the wide eyes of Hank’s boys, Jason, Jacob, Jack and the youngest, Jeremiah staring back at you. Realising that Jack had been the one to ask the question, you looked to the boys: all similar in colourings of dark purple and blacks, their eyes a differing shade from the other of green, blue, yellow and fuchsia. At the front of them came padding in the large black hound that Hank had rescued, a fitting name of Cerberus, its shadowy form had billowing smoke trail off its large long legs, its large head fitting of a wolf than a family pet. Cerberus casually ignored the confrontation, wandering to his basket in the corner of the room.

The sight alone of the four boys made you want to burst out into laughter when you realised that you had been interrupted, but the wan look to their surprised, albeit revolted faces did bring the smile to curve the corner of your lips. “Eww, that’s so gross, guys!” Jason was the first to announce horrified, pretending to retch, Jack covering Jeremiah’s eyes before it was too late.

“Hey, it’s natural between adults who love each other very much,” Hank interjected, wrapping an arm around your waist, tugging you to him. “You would understand when you’re all older.”

“Yeah, but not like that!” Jacob exclaimed.

The youngest, Jeremiah was still attached “Yeah, get a room! Gross!” One look to one another and before long, yours and Hank’s laughter filled the room when he doubled over, you following, holding the side of the table for support as the two of you struggled to keep your composure. All boys seemed almost disappointed at the sight of you, especially the eldest two, both of their expressions matched how ‘parents’ would look to chastising their disobedient kids.

One look to one another and before long, yours and Hank’s laughter filled the room when he doubled over, you following, holding the side of the table for support as the two of you struggled to keep your composure. All boys seemed almost disappointed at the sight of you, expressions twisted to make them look like the ‘parents’ chastising their disobedient kids. “Alright, alright,” you cleared your throat, earning a roll of the eyes from Jason and Jack. “You two be off, be safe.”

“Yeah, yeah, take your time,” Jack remarked, grabbing the phone on the table before hurrying out the door, Cerberus striding by the hip of Jeremiah with little care of the situation.

“Well… that could’ve gone better.” Hank’s mirth was still warm like whiskey in his throat, pouring heavily over you as if to coat you in the deepness of his voice. A hand curled around the small of your back, pulling you close, distracted once more from the closed door and emptiness of the house. You scoffed, jabbing a finger into his shoulder playfully, “You’re a bad influence.”

“Me?” He laughed amusedly. “You see dear, I’m not the only one of a bad influence.” “Hmm, yeah, I beg to differ.” You kissed the corner of his mouth teasingly, earning the man wrapped around you to pout boyishly. “If you’re going to pout like that, you could at least help me, not wrap around me like a snake waiting for its meal.”

“Well… we do have the house to ourselves again,” Hank hummed, nuzzling your cheek affectionately. “The boys won’t be coming back for some time.”

“Hank… if you want to sleep on the sofa, so be it.” 

“No ma’am, I’ll help.”

#female reader x male monster #male monster #shadow boyfriend #shadow monster #Shadow monster boyfriend #human reader #human reader x monster #commissioned fic #commission #exophilia #exophilia monster

[thatnerdwolfnell]

Pocky challenge: MC x Main six

The Pocky game is a party game played withPocky, a Japanese chocolate- or candy-coated biscuit snack. Two participants place the Pockybetween them “Lady and the Tramp” style, and try to be the last to hold onto the biscuit, often resulting in a kiss.

^coppied from google.

Ohohoho. Yes. Thank you. I love you. This would have been done yesterday, but I was a dumb bastard and I ran out of my meds so I was busy feeling like general shit. Sidenote: me and my uni friends used to do this with gummy bears before Covid because we have no shame I guess? Idk.

Pocky game Mc and Main 6

Asra:

He loves it. Even when you kiss him regularly he still loves the thrill and challenge of the game.

He has a bit of a competitive streak so if he has to he will full on kiss you and suck the slimy ass pocky out of your mouth. (I'm sorry for that image)

When he pulls out some strawberry pocky hes already got that cheeky knifecat smirk on his face.

He rattles the box a bit specifically to draw your attention

He gets that dark heavy sparkle in his eyes as he puts the strawberry end between his lips and just looks at you, completely still.

You try to hide your smile, you love when he gets like this.

Asra has a thing for games.

You shift over on the couch enough that you can take the end of end of the pocky in your teeth.

He leans in to take another bite and steadies you with an unexpected hand sliding up from the small of your back.

you raise an eyebrow

The corner of his mouth twitches up into a grin.

he takes a deep breath and holds it as he inches closer. He somehow has nibbling the pocky within millimeters down to a practiced skill and he always holds his breath when he starts getting close. It's a focus thing and probably to keep from moving too much. You can tell he expects to win.

You lace a hand through his hair gently anchoring at the nape of his neck, and bite off most of your end

He blinks in surprise and finally lets out his breath slow enough that it catches in his throat and sends goosebumps down your spine.

His face is so warm next to yours. You can hear his heartbeat, quick and shallow in his chest.

"Gib ub yet?" You ask. There's not much left of the pocky but you know he won't stop.

He grins around the pocky.

The hand on your back slides to your waist. The other skims along your thigh and you gasp slightly.

He doesn't break eye contact. You let out a shaky breath as he nibbles just enough off to keep your lips from touching. If you moved you could easily kiss him.

He plays dirty. He likes teasing you. Waiting for your next move.

You kiss him hard and push him down onto the couch taking the whole last bit of the pocky in your mouth and crunching down.

He tilts his head back and laughs his hair falling back into his face.

"mm I think you cheated" he smirks and leans in to kiss along your jaw

"So did you." You say. You grab another pocky and smooth his hair away from his face before you push off.

Nadia:

Well Nadia isn't really one for party games but she IS one for food. (I think we have a couple different canon scenes I could use as evidence here)

She's never heard of it but she's intrigued.

It's after dinner and you're both still at the table. This isn't something she would ever do in public

"If you wanted me to kiss you, all you had to do was ask...but if you'd rather earn it that can be arranged"

She takes a pocky and gently feeds the end in your mouth.

"If you drop it you'll have to earn my kisses some other way. And I'll be sure to make it a very long night."

She smiles sweetly with just a hint of a smirk and your heart skips a beat.

The way she looks at you with so much reverence, like you're one of her intricate, beautiful machines and she'll take you apart piece by piece just to understand every part.

She starts eating her end and you do the same. She somehow looks elegant with her lips pressed around the pocky and the heat of her breath condensing against the chocolate.

She pauses at the very last bit and let's you close the gap. Her lipstick tastes sweet and floral.

You deepen the kiss and run a hand along her shoulder.

She grabs you by the waist and leans you back against the table in one smooth movement without breaking the kiss.

One hand pins your wrist against the wood above your head while the other is still wrapped around your waist under your back so that it arches slightly.

"I didn't say you could do that, MC." There's amusement in her voice that draws in a low whisper.

She gently caresses down your neck stopping in the middle of your chest. "But I don't want to wait."

She kisses you and you kiss back letting your hands wander through her hair while she presses down over you.

"that's good, love. We should do this more often."

Julian:

He suggests it at the rowdy raven one night. A game he picked up in his pirate days.

"Come on, who's down for a little fun? Make the party more interesting."

Nadia rolls her eyes.

Portia immediately looks at you and pointedly tilts her head at Julian, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively.

You blush a little. You're about to volunteer to play when Lucio steps in.

"I'm up for the challenge. Give you a chance to get near my lips, hey Jules?"

If Julian is disappointed, he doesn't show it. He just grins and pulls out a pocky. "Alright that's the spirit!"

They move down the pocky rather fast and it's clearly a competition. Neither hesitates before meeting in the middle. Julian pulls of with a dramatic peck before pulling away just as fast.

"Anybody else?"

"I'll go!" You take your chance a little too quickly and you see Portia smile in the corner of your eye.

Ah MC. Perfect!" He seems surprised. Maybe a little flustered.

You take a pocky in your mouth and offer him the other end.

He blushes and leans in to start chipping at the biscuit.

He smells like salt and leather. You can feel his heartbeat in his lips moving the stick.

You lean in further, resting a hand on his knee as if for balance. He stiffens but you can see his smirk grow wider.

You both hesitate at the last little piece, caught in the moment of closeness. You start to move to take it and kiss him but he pulls away before you do.

You look at him startled. He's bright red and flustered.

"Ah. um MC I- I didn't think you were going to-"

He's been doing this. Avoiding you when he knows you both want it. You've had enough of that.

"Did you want to?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Kiss me. Did you want to?"

You hold him under your gaze and his eyes soften into something like longing. Or guilt. Or hunger.

"...yes." he says it simply and quietly. Like the only true thing he can find in a single soft word.

And you kiss him. You feel him melt into the kiss and he's kissing you back.

You hold his face in your hands and he pulls you in closer.

You can feel how much he wants this. Like water in the desert. His brow is furrowed in desperation. You break away.

The hurt in his eyes is obvious and you brush his hair out of his face rubbing a thumb along his cheek.

"Hey," you look him in the eyes and try to convey everything in that look. "I'm not going anywhere, you get that?"He nods.

"We can have this all the time." You say.

His eyes wander down your body. "All the time..." He repeats softly.

You kiss him again, much gentler this time. He pulls you in and you feel like THIS is how things were always supposed to be. And this is the life you want to have. With Julian and your friends, and everything right in the world.

Muriel :

He is a blushy boy. But he's been approaching things like this with curiosity, and maybe even wonder, even if it can be hard to tell.

He never refuses a touch or a kiss, and for a while you weren't sure he knew he COULD refuse.

You don't want to make him uncomfortable and you were worried he just tolerated it for your sake.

While he's been getting better, he still lacks awareness of what he wants and likes. You've been helping him figure out his boundaries after years of having them constantly violated and convincing himself that it doesn't matter.

When you told him he seemed surprised. "No, I like it, MC. I always like it." He made it clear that he would say no if he was uncomfortable, "like with cantaloupe or bananas." He said.

(Not eating foods he didn't like had been game changer. A lot of textures bother him.)

Since then he's been making more of an effort to initiate and touch has become something of communication for him.

Hand squeezes for comfort, an arm barring you from accidentally stepping in a rabbit hole, a touch on the shoulder to say "be careful", a nudge to say "look at this", a nuzzle into your neck to say "I love you"

It's just easier than talking. It's how he's always talked to Asra amd Inanna despite the telepathy.

But this is something different.

"But...why?" He asks as you take a pocky from the box. He's already blushing like crazy.

"Because it's fun." You say and you put the end in your mouth.

He frowns but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

He takes a small bite off the end and leans back chewing it curiously.

You laugh. "No, you're supposed to keep going and we hold on until we get to the middle."

"Oh." He leans back in and starts eating away at his end. He looks at you for confirmation, a look of confusion on his face.

You smile and inch closer.

He's bright red and you can feel the heat from his face and his heartbeat, strong and fast.

You both pause at the last bit, daring the other to make a move.

His green eyes are bright and sharp as they lock with yours for just a glance.

Then he closes the gap kissing you gently. Eyes closed, taking the last bit before moving away.

A hand rests on your waist and the other on your shoulder.

"Sorry, did you want the last bit?" You think he's teasing you, but the alarm in his eyes say he's completely serious.

You laugh "no, of course not. I just wanted to kiss you."

He smiles and pulls you into his arms. "I know. But I thought you still... might have wanted it." He shrugs.

He looks down at you and you feel his heart skip. "You could still taste it. ...if you wanted to that is."

What? His mouth twitches up into a slight smirk.

OH.

You kiss him for real this time. And you both end up on the floor of the hut laughing.

You kiss him again.

And he kisses you.

Again and again and again.

Portia:

Yeah she's definitely played before.

Something about the kitchen staff at the last masquerade?

Anyway the rowdy raven has gotten, well, rowdy.

Julian brought the pocky and there's enough overly competitive people in the room that there's been a few kisses.

Portia grabs the box from brother and shakes it teasingly in your direction.

"MC!" She winks. "How about it?"

Her face is flushed from Mazelinka's sangria that she snuck in (which you're pretty sure is actually just pure liquor) but Portia can hold her drink despite going red rather quickly.

You grin. "If you think you're up for it."

You get up and sit down next to her and move a piece of hair off her shoulder, resting your hand there longer than you need to.

She's beautiful when she's smiling like this, having fun.

You can't help a bit of a smile when she leans into your hand slightly while she takes out a pocky.

While you're distracted, she suddenly pokes the end into your mouth making you jump back in surprise.

"Mm hey!"

She just laughs leaning back in the booth letting her giggles fade with a snort.

"Don't drop it!" She says between laughs.

"I'b not!" The pocky is still hanging from your mouth and you wiggle it around for emphasis.

She leans forward and takes the other end in her mouth.

Her eyes sparkle and suddenly she's reaching her arms around your waist pulling you in closer

Your eyes widen and she smirks. You feel the exhale of a silent laugh on your skin.

You're so close and she's so warm. Your heart is pounding.

There isn't much left of the stick and you're not sure if–

Oh.

You didn't mean to but now your lips are together and they're warm and solid and everything seems to explode at once.

The last bit of pocky falls to the ground as you gasp.

She frowns slightly when you pull away, but she still has that self-satisfied expression.

You lean in again and lift your hand towards her face. Hesitating. Waiting for permission.

But then she gives you a look through her lashes. She glances again at your lips.

You tilt your head as you lean in and close your eyes, cradling her face in your hand and letting the other press against her waist.

She moves closer and you can feel her chest pressing against yours.

You pull her tighter and she makes a small delighted noise between a laugh and a gasp.

"Oh. I love this." You say between kisses.

She grins. "This'll be an adventure, hey?"

Lucio:

He sets the box of pocky on the table in front of you.

"You've heard of the pocky game right?"

You nod, unsure of where this is going. Normally Lucio is pretty straightforward about kissing you.

"Well how about a little wager? If you win I'll get you whatever the hell you want, a whole shopping spree of the finest jewels, clothes, whatever."

You nod again. "Alright and if you win?"

He shifts uncomfortably wringing his hands. "Well, if I win.... youhavetotakeCamiotohisvetcheckup."

You sigh. Oh god. So that's what this was about. Camio HATED the vet. That rascal of a bird would be screeching insults the whole time.

You could see why Lucio was trying to get out of it.

You love that little shit, but damn he could be annoying. He's the kind of bird that will hold a grudge for about a week, and he does not take vet trips lightly.

"Please?" Says Lucio, "and if we meet in the middle we go together."

"You realize that I could just say no and make you do it yourself, right?"

"But you're not going to because I'm your boyfriend and you love me?"

You frown.

"Okay but then you wouldn't get to kiss me. Plus Camio likes you more, he'll be nicer with you there."

You pause considering. It WOULD be good to have a buffer instead of leaving the poor vet with Camio and Lucio by themselves.

"Fine, but ONLY if you win, remember?"

"YES!" he eagerly grabs a pocky and sticks one end in his mouth.

You take the other end and start chewing as fast as you can.

He takes a moment to get his bearings and catch up but once he does you're both at the very end right before the middle.

Neither of you want to move, both trying to avoid the task.

You try to get him to back down by inching a little closer, but he stays put.

He moves the tiniest bit.

And then you kiss.

fuck.

"YES!" He shouts, jumping back in triumph.

"You have to come too, still." You say.

Yeah but i won't mind if you're there."

You sigh and lean back.

"Oh come on don't look like that. We'll do a half shopping spree. That seems more fair anyway. I get half a win, you get half a win."

You laugh. "Alright, alright. Where is that stupid bird anyway?"

#the arcana game #the arcana main 6 #arcana game #arcana #asra the arcana #asra #the arcana asra #asra alnazar #nadia the arcana #nadia satrivana #the arcana nadia #nadia #julian the arcana #julian #julian devorak #the arcana julian #muriel the arcana #muriel of the kokhuri #the arcana muriel #muriel #portia devorak #the arcana portia #portia #portia the arcana #lucio #count lucio #the arcana lucio #lucio the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcane game

[oh-my-may]

Sugar, spice and everything nice ✵ Osamu Miya x reader

making christmas cookies with Osamu! ft. an Atsumu appearance at the end!

pairing: Miya Osamu x gender neutral reader

warnings: very mild swearing? (also this was not proof read so forgive any mistake you might come across)

genre: fluffy fluff

word count: 2.7k

Day 1 of my december/christmas event! I won’t be posting the works in chronological order/ the way they are on the list and rather in the order I like best. Decided to post this one first because I recently also made cookies and it really got me in the christmas mood :) Have fun!

Also sorry that this was not posted on the 1st as I was planning on, but I was really struggling with uni and time management lately, but I wrote this on one afternoon and I am kinda proud!

Your eyes slowly traced over the scenery in front of you: baking ingredients neatly plastered all over the counter, the packages even sorted from biggest to smallest, starting with the flour and ending with eggs. In front there stood a bunch of bowls, all of the same kind and just in different sizes, all of them stacked together. The work space of the kitchen had been cleaned and the light bouncing of the counter almost blinded you if you looked at it for too long. And of course, in front of all the counters, dressed in a candy cane coloured apron and messy hair stood Osamu, who was going over all the ingredients for what felt like the fifth time, making sure nothing was missing. Every now and then he looked up to give you a small smile before he returned to the task at hand.

After a few minutes you had enough and sighed dramatically, leaning over the counter as you stood opposite of him. “Samu, do you really think this is the way to do this?” The man in question looked up at you in confusion, the expression and widened eyes suddenly making him look several years younger. “Why would it not be? I’m just making sure everything is in order.” You bit your lip as a smile made its way to your lips. You finally moved and made your way around the counter, your fingers brushing along the border of the kitchen counter. “Look, I don’t know about you, but to me making Christmas cookies was always more of a messy experience, which in no way is to be seen as negative.” You slowly took his hands, which still hovered over the ingredients, and pulled him closer to you. “What I really like about you is that compared to your brother you like things neatly organized and ordered, but maybe put that aside for today, mh? For me.” He analysed your face critically for just a split second before he sighed and looked away. The way you looked up at him with your big eyes have always had a strong effect on him. “Alright”, he sighed and raised one of his hands to brush over your hair. “Then you’re the boss for today.”

You face brightened up immediately and you clapped your hands in an excited manner as you moved past him to play some festive music and he could only watch in delight, seeing as this made you so happy. He helped you put on an apron and then obliged to your commands as you researched your favourite recipes and slowly got to work.

Frankly, his preparations made the whole process a lot easier and faster in the beginning, as you just had to mix all the ingredients together. Everything was still in order and neatly organized during the first round, you had big fun rolling out the dough and deciding which shapes to cut out of the dough in front of you. You two bickered over the decisions, Osamu insisting on making the cookies look “elegant” with a bunch of fancy decorations like almonds, walnuts, even pistachios and expensive chocolate. You smiled at him as he explained his ideas but then slowly put your hands on his broad shoulders and got on your tip toes, before leaning in and cutting his words off with a soft kiss. You felt Osamu tense up and relax under your grip as his hands followed your hands from his shoulders down your extended arms to your waist, pulling you closer. But you leaned away too soon, tipping the tip of your finger against his lower lip. “You could have just told me to shut up, y’know” he mumbled and you grinned, shaking your head. “We both know that that is not the truth, ‘Samu.” Osamu looked not especially pleased as you clearly compared him to his brother, as they were both the same when it came to this. You giggled and turned away, trying to slip out of his grip. When he didn’t let you, you pouted and reached for the first thing near you – which, unfortunately, was the package of flour. You took a hand full of the white substance and threw it right at him in defence, not thinking twice. Poor Osamu got blinded by the white mist and struggled to breath for a few moments, coughing in some of the powder. “Oh my god” was the only expression the could leave your lips repeatedly as you took in the scene and watched your boyfriend struggle and dance around weirdly in an attempt to get rid of the haze in the air, waddling his arms around. You really wanted to help but all you could do was laugh more intensely with every second that passed.

Eventually, the flour disappeared and all that was left of it was a small film of it on the kitchen counter and the floor. And, of course, Osamu as well. His silver hair was now coated in white chunks of flour and you could see some smudges of it on his face and apron. He considered you throroughly for a while, his eyes scanning your figure from top to bottom, before he also grabbed the flour and you gasped, putting your hands up in defence. “WAIT! PEACE! I want peace! I’m sorry!”

Osamu stopped in his tracks, watched you for another five seconds and then sighed and slapped the flour on the counter. “Fine, then. We should continue on with the cookie baking or we won’t be finished until tomorrow morning. But this isn’t forgotten. I will take my revenge.” You nodded, trying to take his words seriously, but you couldn’t help but let a few wheezes escape your mouth in the process. “You’re right, we should continue.” You got closer to him again only hesitantly, until he took your wrist and pulled you next to him with an annoyed look, but you knew better. Just as much as you, he enjoyed these little games and playful times in your relationship and you smiled at him as you both resumed work on the cookies.

This time however, after the first trays landed in the oven, the dough preparation was messier, as you needed to focus on many things at once. Making sure you got the measurements right, cleaning up the used bowls and other materials and checking on the cookies in the oven. You got a bit more experimental with the cookies this time, adding more spices or other ingredients to create new textures for the dough. You didn’t speak much this time around, rather you enjoyed each other’s company, the festive smell lingering in the room with you and the bright melodies echoing from the walls, finding their way right into your souls. Sometimes Osamu would playfully bump into you as you were cutting out the cookies, and when you looked at him he had already gotten back to work, yet there was a mischievous smile lingering on his lips.

When you were finished cutting out the cookies, you were ready to put in the remaining trays into the oven, but Osamu halted you, putting another figure made up of dough on the tray you were holding. “What’s that?” “A cookie.” “It has a weird shape.” “It’s not finished just yet. Stop judging my work now and focus on not burning your fingers babe.” You rolled your eyes but took his comment with a smile, considering his thoughtful figure scanning the recipes after you were done with your task. There was still flour on his features, but for whatever reason it made him even more charming, as the soft yellow and red lightning from the Christmas decorations illuminated him. Some of the lights were reflected in his dark grey eyes, making it seem like there were tiny stars dancing in them. He looked up suddenly when he noticed your figure not moving, a questioning look in his eyes. But they grew a lot softer and formed into a smile when he took in your features and walked up to you, lacing both of his big hands on either side of your face, squishing the soft skin of your cheeks. “You’re so adorable, sweetheart.” He cooed and moved his nose against yours. Your breath hitched as you finally realized what he had meant. Even though it was already warm in the room, you had still managed to blush wildly at the sight of your boyfriend, your face heating up unnaturally in the process. A chaste kiss is left on the tip of your nose, before Osamu takes his hands off your face and places them on yours instead, intertwining your fingers. “Let’s wait until the last cookies are finished, yes?” He mumbles just above your ear, warm breath brushing along your hair, causing your to shiver. A consenting hum left your vocal folds as you leaned into his large figure, his heartbeat right under your ear beating at a slow and steady rhythm. Before you knew it your bodies were moving slowly, feet brushing over the tiles on the floor along to the soft beat of Cold December Night now flowing through the speakers. There was something incredibly reassuring about the weight of his head on top of yours, his cheek brushing over your hair and his hands on your waist and back trailing nonsense patterns on the fabric of your sweater and yet you felt it right through your skin. During the last chorus of the song your felt Osamus hand wander up from your waist, along your neck to your face, his fingers holding up your face to him, his thumb trailing over your bottom lip before pulling you in for a kiss, starting up slow but slowly pressing you towards the counter, your hips pushing against the edge of it. Your hearts beat sped up with every time Osamus lips captured yours, every single time a bit more passionate than the last. You tasted the sweetness of his mouth, asserting that you certainly where not the only one to try some bits of the raw dough, smiling at this realization. But then something cold and weird hit your face, something with a structure you couldn’t determine right away. Your eyes suddenly opened in shock, staring at your grinning boyfriends face through a soft haze of white. It took you a whole second to realize what had just happened “SAMU!” you screamed in horror, his unstoppable laughter ringing in your ears. You sighed in frustration and angrily moved your hands to your face to brush away the chunks of flour that surely found its place on your cheeks and even forehead. Osamu took a second to look at you, before he returned to laughing wildly. You blew away some hair that was messily hanging in your face, letting the situation wash over you and watching as your boyfriend enjoyed his victory. You couldn’t really be mad at him, you had it coming after that situation earlier today. So there was nothing left to do for you other than sit it out.

After Osamu had finally calmed down, he got closer to you again, his hand hovering over your head. “You look like a vampire, sweetheart.” You just glared at him and he chuckled, sighing. “Alright Dracula, the cookies should be done soon, come on.” He dragged you to the oven, where you prepared the different chocolates to dip in and decorate the cookies with, as well as all the sprinkles and icing. When everything was done, you hurriedly decorated all the baked goods. Trying to make special patterns on the cookies turned out to be a lot harder than you both thought and sure enough one time Osamu got distracted and upset, so he just pressed his in chocolate covered finger to your nose, but you ducked away the second he tried to lick it off. “That’s nasty, keep that kinda behaviour out of the kitchen, Miya.” “But you liked it just a few minutes ago.” He whispered sheepishly and grinned, earning an elbow hit from you. You will sure as hell not sacrifice hundreds of cookies for his horniness, that was for sure. After several such attempts and only two clap backs from your side, he finally gave up and resumed to decorating the cookies. He even got every much into it, which surprised you somehow. He kept on giggling to himself, but he wouldn’t let you see what he was doing. “Not until it’s finished and dried!” he insisted, so you went back to decorating the rest of the cookies.

When you were finished with all the cookies, the first ones you had worked on had already dried and you tried to steal looks at Osamus work. “What were you giggling about earlier, huh? What’s so funny about decorating cookies?” He looked at you almost a bit offended. “Isn’t Christmas supposed to be a holly jolly time? Am I not allowed to be happy and smile?” You sighed and playfully smacked his arm, but he turned away before you could do it a second time. “Fine, take a look. I really tried my best… With some.” He added the last part in a quieter but amused tone as you considered his cookies. You finally recognized the shapes, he had taken many of the human/ man formed cookies to decorate. Grunts escaped your lips as you looked at what could only resemble Osamus team mates, considering the colour of their clothes and hair. Everything else somehow… Didn’t look as recognizable. “What happened to their faces.” “I lived out my inner fantasy – punching a volleyball in everyone’s face. This is what I imagine it to look like.” You couldn’t hold the laughter anymore as your eyes kept on flying over the tray and got stuck on a collection of cookies that all portrayed the same person. “Is that your brother?” you laugh loudly, looking at all the cursed faces on the cookies. Osamu nodded proudly. “Looking as good as never before.”

After your laughter has faded out into a long sigh, your eyes landed on the last cookie that Osamu made, considering it carefully. “Is that-“ “That’s us, babe.” Osamu states proudly and lifts the cookie up so you can look at it better. “I hope I don’t offend you with this, but it’s just really hard capturing your real beauty on a damn cookie. You look nowhere near as bad as your dough twin-“ You cut him off with a quick kiss. “Shut up, it’s perfect. I wouldn’t have been able to do any better.” You giggle against his lips before he pulls you in for another kiss like the one before, this time you could just hope he didn’t have any ulterior motive of pressing baking ingredients in your face. But of course this time you were interrupted as well.

“Eww, don’t you two know that the kitchen is a commonly used space in this house? Would you please mind NOT spreading your hormones across every surface in this damn house?” Atsumu enters the house in that exact moment, the sight in front of him not exactly being the first thing he expected OR wanted to see. When you both turn to look at him he drops his bag, his expression changing to something between confusion and disgust. “What the hell happened with you? Are you not supposed to cover the cookies with chocolate and not other people?” When neither of you answer he just grunts and sloppily moves past you to investigate the products of your work. Osamu rolls his eyes at his twin and you grin, the anticipation building up. You could only imagine what Atsumu’s reaction to his cookie-selfs would be like, but the reality was so much better.

“YA! SAMU! What the hell is this? Ya think this is funny or what?” Atsumus angrily picks up one cookie of himself and points it at his brother like someone would with a sword, however it was not frightening at all. Osamu turns quickly to wink at you, before he answers his brother “I don’t know what your problem is, this looks better than you ever have or will.”

~ Cue them bickering and fighting in the kitchen and you kinda have to intervene before someone gets hurt because this is a KITCHEN and you don’t want to imagine what this could end like with all the knives around and such~

THE END

#haikyuu #haikyuu!! #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu fic #haikyuu fanfiction #miya osamu #osamu fluff #osamu x reader #miya osamu fluff #osamu headcanon #miya fluff #miya twins #inarizaki #osamu x #osamu x y/n #osamu hcs #haikyuu hcs #haikyuu headcanon #haikyuu hc #haikyuu reaction #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu one shot #osamu one shot #osamu scenario #osamu scenarios

[winryofresembool]

Things We Lost in the Fire, ch 34

aka Caleo uni au

Fic summary: Calypso starts studying at a new university, but to her annoyance her new flatmate is a loud mouthed mechanic who also likes to sneak his dog in whenever. But as she learns to know him better, she realizes they might have more in common than what she first thought. Eventually, even the darkest secrets come out…

Chapter summary: At Waystation, please don't ask me what part 

A/N: Woop, not as long a wait as earlier! I am kind of surprised that this chapter ended up being easier for me to write than the previous one despite the emotional stuff L&C are talking about in it. But I'm also extremely happy I got it done!

Hmmm, should I say anything else? I guess I just hope you guys enjoy this monster chapter! (almost 5k words, a lot for me) And please, please let me know what you think of this chapter because I really, /really/ want to know!

Words: 4900+

Genre: romance & hurt/comfort

Warnings: none

previous chapter / AO3

...

It took Calypso a while to collect herself after her breakdown. On one hand, she felt bad that she had yelled at Leo like that, especially in front of Georgina. But on the other hand, she felt he had deserved it. When Leo had asked her if something was wrong, she had already been emotional because of the song and the feelings it had made her realize. When she added the frustrations caused by the ‘present incident’ and also her fear for her future and what her father might do to that, she was kind of surprised that she had managed to stay calm even that long.

After she had made sure that the redness on her face had faded a bit and she would be able to speak in a normal tone, she finally joined Leo’s family who had just started preparing the dinner. Leo himself wasn’t present; apparently Festus had been expecting a long Christmas walk, but Calypso still wondered briefly if that was only an excuse. Luckily she did quite enjoy cooking while listening to Jo and Emmie’s stories because that gave her something else to think about.

The dinner guests arrived about an hour later. Among them was a man named ‘Lit’ (Calypso had to raise her eyebrow at the nickname), who apparently took care of an actual living elephant among other things. With him was the ‘Golden Haired Dude’ whom Georgina had mentioned earlier, only he had dyed his hair brown recently. He introduced himself as Lester and he mentioned liking music, which piqued Calypso’s interest but she didn’t have a chance to ask more about it during the dinner. The two had also brought Lester’s young ‘master’ Meg with them. Calypso was still too distraught by the earlier events to really focus on getting to know those people better, but somehow they, especially the two men, seemed to be even louder than Leo was usually. Meg seemed nice, though, and Calypso found out that they shared an interest in gardening. She still noticed wishing that the dinner would be over fast so she could just withdraw into her room and try to calm down a bit.

***

”Alright, what’s going on here?”

Jo and Emmie dragged Leo and Calypso out of the dining room after the dinner. Calypso didn’t understand why; they had managed to behave perfectly neutrally while the guests had been there, at least in her opinion. Well, honestly speaking neither of them had talked much - mostly when they were asked some standard questions like ‘what do you study again?’ - but that was probably for the best. Otherwise Calypso might have said something she would have regretted.

“What do you mean?” Leo asked Jo defensively. “It’s not like I step danced on the dining table or anything like that! We were behaving just fine!”

“Mr. Valdez,” Jo used her most threatening voice, which actually intimidated even Calypso who had gotten used to many kinds of threatening in the past. “In your case that means that something is definitely going on. I have not gone through a single Christmas dinner with you where you haven’t tried to tell at least one of your favorite Santa jokes. And yes, don’t think we have just forgotten what happened this morning.”

“Besides, Calypso’s eyes have been red since this afternoon,” Emmie added. So she had noticed, Calypso sighed in her mind. She had made sure to wash her face carefully with cool water after her little mental breakdown and had even added some concealer under her eyes to hide the redness but of course these two wouldn’t miss a thing.

“And we did notice your glares at the table,” Jo finally finished the chastising.

“Listen, moms.” Leo crossed his arms. “I appreciate you trying to help but this is between Cal and me.”

“Alright,” Jo said. “Then how about you try to deal with it while doing the dishes.”

“Wait, what?” Leo protested. “Georgie needs my help with building the 1000 piece puzzle she got from the neighbors; I promised her I would…”

“Georgina can wait,” Emmie said firmly. “Leo, Calypso is our guest and no matter what your issue is, you two are adults and you should be able to talk it out maturely.”

Calypso had already learned to know the two women well enough to be able to tell that once they had decided something, you wouldn’t be able to change their minds easily. She too did want to protest because this was not how she wanted to do her ‘grand talk’ with Leo, but it seemed rather pointless. They really did need to talk, and the sooner they’d get it done, the sooner they might be able to find some sort of normalcy in their situation. Maybe. Calypso didn’t think their relationship had ever been particularly ‘normal’.

“Alright, we’ll do the dishes,” she said eventually. “But I don’t know what happens after that. I guess it depends.”

“Hmm, I guess we can’t ask more than that,” Emmie nodded. “OK, we’ll leave you two to it. And if anything breaks, remember, you will be replacing it!” she referred to the fancier dinnerware they had been using that day.

“As if I would even dream of breaking your plates,” Leo mumbled when his mothers were already on their way out of the room. Calypso almost snorted at his comment before she remembered that she was mad at him, and simply made a sound that was a bit like a sneeze.

An awkward silence fell in the room once the flatmates were alone.

“Well…” Calypso finally broke it after they had been scrubbing the dishes for several minutes without saying anything.

“Yeah…?”

“Are we going to talk about what happened today or not?” She folded her arms, dropping some soap water on the floor in the process.

“I don’t know, are we?” Leo attempted to provoke her, but he was lacking his usual spunk. When Calypso kept glaring at him, he finally sighed. “Listen. I know I acted like an idiot earlier. What else is new? But the thing is, this day is just… always getting to me. I can’t help it. I know it sounds pathetic, but…”

Leo was stopped by Calypso’s hand around his wrist. “I know what happened to your mother. I mean, the full story. Jo and Emmie told me. What happened was really, really horrible, but that doesn’t excuse you yelling like that when I was only trying to help. You also really made us worry when you ran away like that. I was afraid something was going to happen to you! And when you came back, you were acting like nothing had happened! Can you imagine how frustrated that made me feel?” Nearly tears in her eyes again, she finished. “It made me feel that you don’t care about us!”

“Calypso, calm down! I’m sorry, OK?” Leo raised his voice. “Yeah, I was selfish. And yeah, I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I didn’t think much at that point. I know it doesn’t excuse what I did but let me at least explain why I did what I did before you blow up the whole house.”

“Alright,” Calypso gave in. “Do explain.”

“Every day since my mom died…” Leo started, emphasizing the two first words, “I’ve been feeling guilty about her death. Some days I feel better, but it’s always worse during Christmases. Because that’s when she died.”

Calypso had a feeling that Leo wanted to say more, so she waited quietly, trying to look encouraging.

“This morning, before our present opening, I had a nightmare. Yeah, you probably already guessed what it was about. I saw how the fire started - I had left my blueprints too close to the fireplace and it just… spread - and how the policeman told me my mom had gone inside the house when… when I was lying unconsciously in our backyard. She had been looking for me because she didn’t know I had managed to escape.” He tried to clear his throat but his voice was still cracking when he finished: “My mom was my only family and she died because I was stupid and careless.”

While Calypso and Leo had had plenty of arguments in the past, she had rarely seen him as bitter as when he said those final words. It seemed as if he was in physical pain because he was so angry at himself. She wanted to say something encouraging, but she knew from experience that there was nothing that she could say in a situation like that that could make it better. Kind words didn’t bring the people you loved back. She did, however, try to show with gestures that she understood – she really did – and she moved closer to him, gently putting her hand on his shoulder.

Leo attempted to collect himself for a moment before he continued, blinking his eyes furiously: “It didn’t help me mentally that my aunt was forced to take me in after the fire. You can probably imagine her reaction. “You mutt, you really think you deserve to live after what happened to your mother?” Yeah. That happened. She told that to an 8-year-old boy. I’m almost thankful to her that she did eventually send me to a foster home. Only almost though.”

Calypso remembered his stories of the foster homes he had been in and understood what he meant.

“I hope that this explains why I don’t want to deal with fire now. Not because I’m afraid of the fire itself. But because I’m afraid of what it could do to people I love. So, yeah, that is why I was not thrilled to get those matches on this particular day.”

Calypso had to admit that after hearing the story from Leo himself, his reaction made more sense.

“I’m… sorry. About what happened to you and about the matches. I really picked an awful time to give them to you. But I still wish you had told me all that earlier instead of just waiting to blow up. And I never meant anything hurtful; I didn’t mean you need to use them any time soon… I just wanted to show you that I have faith in you. Because I do!

Leo was quiet for a while.

“Yeah… I know you were only trying to help,” he sighed finally. “I don’t know. I had such a good day yesterday and then one night turned it upside down. It’s not your fault. Some things… just had been building inside me for too long.”

“I know how you feel,” Calypso said quietly.

“You do?” Leo asked.

“Yeah. Um, I think it’s my turn to open up about some things. You told me your story so I should do the same.”

“Okay, go on,” he encouraged, seeming curious even though he was still visibly upset.

Calypso took a moment to decide where to start from. “As you’ve probably noticed, I’ve been battling with some ghosts of my past for a long time now, and this fall has been quite a rollercoaster for me emotionally.”

Leo nodded at her.

“I thought that when I would move out… escape from my father’s mansion… I could just put all that behind me and start from the beginning. And in a way I was able to do that. I do enjoy living here. I like my studies – even though it has been very different compared to what I did at home… sometimes difficult... but I’ve never been one to sit around when I know I have work to do so I. That’s the way I’ve been raised.”

She looked up from her hands. “I’m also really grateful that I’ve met all the wonderful people who have become my friends here. Yeah, believe it or not, you included. But… All that makes my fear even stronger. I’m afraid that it all will be taken from me again.”

Leo frowned. “I don’t understand now. Why would that happen? Is it because of your father? You mentioned something about that once.”

Calypso was on the verge of tears again but she bit her lip and tried to put herself together. “I… I did something awful when I was 16… and my father wants to make sure that no one will ever hear about it.”

“What happened?” Leo asked.

“I… had some… um, relationship issues, for the lack of a better word. My boyfriend of that time had discovered that his previous girlfriend had moved back to New York, and, surprise, he wanted to end our relationship. He wasn’t the first to do that. That’s what always happened. They always had someone who was more important to them than me.” Calypso rubbed her forehead tiredly. “I was pretty down after that because the 16-year-old me thought that no one would care about me.”

Leo looked at her with a ‘that’s bullshit’ kind of expression, but for once he said nothing. She could still see that he had sympathy in his eyes.

“So, one day pretty soon after that guy went back to his ex, I was invited to a party. Most of the people there were a bit older than me so yeah, there was alcohol involved. I was shy and still really upset about what had recently happened to me so I thought that maybe a drink or two would make me feel better. But I drank way more than that because I just wanted to forget about everything for a while. Someone at the party knew my big sister Zoë and thought that it would be the best for me if she’d come to get me home before something bad happened to me. Well, ironically…” Calypso’s vision started blurring as she attempted to finish the sentence. “Zoë would probably still be here if she hadn’t come to pick me up.”

She swiped her face into her hand very ungracefully and sniffed a couple of times before she was able to continue.

“So… she arrived and when we got into the car, she naturally started scolding me. I don’t remember anymore what exactly she said but I know I deserved it. But at that moment I was being an idiot so of course we got into an argument. And she didn’t…” She couldn’t hold the tears in any longer, instinctively searching for support from Leo’s shoulder.

“It’s OK, Cal… You don’t have to tell me more if you don’t want to,” Leo tried to calm her down, awkwardly patting her back.

“Can you hand me some of that paper towel?” she sobbed when she managed to get some words out of her mouth, pointing at the roll on the table. “I must look like a mess.”

Leo attempted to give her an encouraging smile even though Calypso knew that must have been hard because he was probably feeling as bad as she was on the inside.

“R-right, here,” he said and pulled one piece of the paper towel from the roll, handing it to her.

“Thanks,” Calypso mumbled and swept her nose and cheeks into the paper.

“No problem.”

Calypso chuckled at the irony of the situation while she was attempting to dry the last tears. “Why is it that I was the one who was worried about you… and now I’m the one who ended up crying?”

“Guess we’re both pretty messed up,” Leo concluded for her. “But it’s OK. We can… you know… try to support each other?” It was more of a question than a statement, and Calypso assumed Leo was still unsure if she’d let him stay in her life.

“Yeah… maybe we can. But, um… I should finish my story.”

“Take your time.” Leo nodded at her.

“So…” she finally said. “We were fighting. And she got so distracted that she… I mean, neither of us… noticed that there was a car coming really fast from behind a curve and the road was pretty narrow and… before she had time to brake… the car hit us.”

Calypso’s heart was still beating rapidly when she remembered that situation, but taking a couple of deep breaths, she managed to avoid another crying fit. A couple of tears fell on her cheeks but her voice turned angry rather than sad.

“She… she died almost instantly. I don’t know how I got so lucky that I ended up with only a couple of broken bones and bruises. The driver of the other car was injured quite badly but from what I heard, also survived. I bet my father was relieved about that,” she finished bitterly.

“Cal…” Leo tried to say something but she interrupted him.

“If you say your mother’s death was your fault, so was Zoë’s death my fault. She would still be here if I hadn’t messed up at that party. She would still be here if we hadn’t been arguing on the road. So, I know exactly how you feel.”

“Yeah… there are some similarities there…” Leo admitted. “But I don’t think it was your fault. It was an accident.”

“Similarly to what happened to your mom,” Calypso noted.

Leo decided to not continue with that topic. “One question: how does your father have anything to do with this?”

Calypso sighed out of frustration. “I told you once that he basically…” She decided to change her approach. “Um, after that accident he didn’t let me go anywhere anymore, especially unsupervised because if someone had found out that I had something to do with my sister’s death… that would probably have ruined his career. Instead…” she said darkly, “he was able to take advantage of people’s sympathy. ‘Oww, poor Mister Astal… he must have been devastated after such a loss!’ But you know what?! I know… he couldn’t have cared less. The only thing that man cares about is his money and power.”

Calypso noticed that Leo was clenching his jaw. “I… I haven’t even met the guy but I really, really hate him. Trust me, I’d punch him in the face if I happened to meet him. Hard. But honestly, I think he deserves way more than that. He’d deserve…”

Leo proceeded to tell Calypso what exactly he thought her father would deserve, and weirdly enough, somehow that made her feel slightly better. Sure, nothing would ever give her back the years she had lost because of him. But at least she knew she had people on her side, and that was the most she could ask for in her situation.

“Even though I support your plan 100%... which by the way isn’t something I expected to say… I’d prefer it if you never, ever had to meet him.” Calypso shook her head. “I’ve already told you that he is capable of ruining lives if he wants to.”

“And I’ve already told you that I don’t care,” Leo said challengingly.

“Yeah, but I do!” Calypso exclaimed angrily. “How do you think I’d feel if he hurt you, because of me?”

That finally stopped Leo from arguing with her. Maybe he realized that he would feel just as awful if something happened to her.

“Okay. I won’t be hunting him down right now. But I’m still sticking to what I said after the Halloween party. If he ever does anything to you, know that I will help you. No matter what it costs.” Calypso looked at him with awe. No one had told her before that they’d be willing to risk so much for her sake.

“Why… why would you do that for me?” she whispered.

Fire was burning in Leo’s eyes. Maybe because he was angry… maybe for some other reason too. Before Calypso could prepare herself, he announced without hesitation:

“Because I love you, Cal! It’s as simple as that!”

There. The words Calypso had been both hoping and dreading to hear were out now, and there was no way to take them back. She couldn’t say she was completely surprised by his confession after everything that had happened since Halloween, but still… to hear him say it aloud… it still felt different than just knowing that it might be the case. Only a few hours earlier she herself had come to accept the fact that her own feelings were deeper than just some regular crush, and now this… She felt extremely overwhelmed.

“Don’t say that,” Calypso mumbled, not able to look him in the eyes at that moment. “I’ve heard people tell that to me before… and they’ve never meant it…”

“Yeah, but I do!” Leo kept insisting. “You should know me well enough by now to know that I don’t say things I don’t mean!”

Finally, Calypso lifted her eyes from her hands to Leo’s face. He was watching her with a dead serious expression, but at closer look she noticed that there was also a certain softness, gentleness in his eyes. The kind that made her knees feel weak.

“I know that,” she said quietly, and before she could stop herself, she stepped closer to Leo and took the towel he had been using to dry the dishes from his hands and threw it on the table. Her heart was racing and she felt a bit shaky, but she moved even closer, leaving only a couple of centimeters between them. Before she progressed from there, though, she very lightly brushed his cheek with her thumb, stopping at the corner of his lip, to let him know of her intentions. For a moment he just stared at her dumbfounded before nodding slightly while blushing furiously, and that was the only sign she needed. Moving both of her hands to the sides of his face, she rose on her tiptoes and kissed him fully on the mouth.

Calypso still remembered how the kisses she had previously experienced had often felt like the other one had been in a rush to get somewhere, possibly out of his real love interest’s sight. But this time was different. When their lips touched, Leo froze for one moment (Calypso hoped it was because he was thinking ‘whoa, can’t believe this is happening!’ and not because he was horrified), but he quickly recovered from that and responded, at first slowly, lightly, but when she kept encouraging him, he got more eager. Before he got ahead of himself, though, he stopped and looked at her straight into eyes as if to ask if it was OK. That was how Calypso knew that he wanted this just as much as she did.

“Keep going,” she whispered, and Leo did what he was told to do. He pressed his lips firmly against hers and sunk his fingers into her hair, sending sparks down Calypso’s spine. Warmth spread through her entire body when he tilted her head slightly to get better access to her lips and deepened the kiss. She was surprised by how soft his lips felt against her mouth (for some reason when she had been picturing this situation – which, yes, had happened more than once, she had to admit to herself – she had imagined them a bit rough, like his hands) and she felt a little light headed as Leo’s tongue gently poke her lips to ask her to part them. She happily reciprocated and discovered he tasted like the gingerbread cookies she and Georgina had baked, which probably meant he had liked them.

Even though Calypso would have liked it to continue longer, soon they needed to break away to get some air. Her face was red, she was panting and somehow her hair had also gotten messy in the process, but she didn’t care. Why would she when she felt loved possibly for the first time in her life? Leo was looking at her gently and she wanted to reach in and continue from where they were left off, but before that she felt she needed to say something.

“Don’t tell your mothers that happened,” she mumbled while resting her head against his shoulder, trying to sound serious but knowing she was failing.

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t dream of it.” Leo stopped stroking her hair when she lifted her head from his shoulder to see his expression. Leo’s eyes were so unlike they had only been about 15 minutes earlier when Jo and Emmie had ‘forced’ them to talk. Back then they had looked almost black and emotionless, but now they were back to the lighter chocolate brown Calypso was used to, sparkling happily at her comment. It made her very relieved to see him like that; she must have done something right after all.

“Good.” She nodded and looked at him expectantly. Leo picked up the hint, but instead of kissing her right away, he lifted her on a kitchen cabinet so she wouldn’t have to stand on her tiptoes (not that Leo was tall; Calypso was just that short). Calypso rolled her eyes at the gesture, but when Leo took her face into his hands, she forgot all about it and leaned in for another kiss. Unfortunately, this time they hadn’t taken into account that there was a cupboard right behind Calypso’s head so when they started leaning more backwards as the kiss got more heated, she hit her head against it. “Oh great, of course when I finally get to kiss the girl this would happen,” he rubbed the back of his neck and looked apologetic, but Calypso just chuckled.

“Don’t worry about it. Maybe it was a good reminder for us that there would probably be better places to do this than the kitchen of your parents’ home.”

“Yeah, maybe…” Leo had to agree. Before Calypso got off the cabinet, though, she pressed a light kiss on his forehead. She didn’t know why she did that; it just felt good at that moment.

When she pulled away from him, Leo asked, sounding a bit unsure: “So… does that mean that you love me too?”

Calypso shook her head, kind of amused that this boy who could figure out a really difficult math question within minutes was so unsure about her feelings. “What do you think, idiot?”

“I don’t know… I still wasn’t entirely convinced by those kisses,” he attempted to joke but quickly received a fist on his arm. “Ow! That hurt!”

“Not a good moment to joke,” Calypso stated.

“Fine, sorry,” Leo said while rubbing his arm.

“You are lucky that I happen to love you.” Calypso stuck her tongue out at him, but before he had time to say anything, she took his hand and squeezed it reassuringly.

“Yeah. I am,” Leo said, completely seriously this time. “But how did we get to this point from my… um, issues anyway?”

Now that Leo mentioned it, Calypso realized it was a valid question. It felt like everything she had felt that fall had been squeezed into a very small package and then suddenly just popped open. But she also felt relieved that they had finally managed to speak up about what was bothering them.

“I don’t know, to be honest,” she replied. “But I’m kind of glad that Jo and Emmie closed us here.”

“Yeah. Me too,” Leo agreed.

“Listen…” Calypso kept her eyes on their intertwined hands. “I don’t know what is going to happen. You know, with my father and everything. But you made me realize that I can’t just give up without a fight. That I can’t get what I want if I don’t try. So I’ve decided… I want to try this… us… if that’s what you want as well.”

“Are you crazy? I’d be the stupidest guy on earth to say no to you,” Leo said dramatically. “Even though this will sound cheesy as hell, I’ve noticed that I’m happier when I spend time with you. You know, just cooking, chilling, whatever. So, I’m thinking… Maybe together we will also be able to kick our issues’ asses. I will be working on getting over my fear. And… I guess I will also have to try harder to open up… about my past and all that… It probably isn’t always gonna be easy but hey, feel free to call me out if you need to.”

“You bet I will, Leo Valdez.” Calypso smiled at him, a real, genuine smile. “And I too will do my best to talk about what’s bothering me more. I realize now that I should have done it way earlier.”

“We are some stubborn idiots, huh?” Leo gave her a lopsided smile.

“Yeah.”

“Um, so… just to be clear… What do we tell the others? About… us?” Leo asked after a while.

“I’m thinking… maybe it would be better if we don’t tell everyone quite yet. I’ve had a lot of bad experiences in the past as you know so I’d prefer to keep it just between us for a while. You know, just to make sure that… nothing goes wrong.”

“Alright, that’s fair enough,” Leo agreed. “Although, nothing stays a secret from my family for a long time. It’s like they’re psychics or something.”

Calypso chuckled. “Can’t disagree with you on that. I swear that I’ve known them for a few days and they already know more about me than I do.”

“You’ll get used to it, though,” Leo reassured her.

“Hopefully so. Well… what should we do now?” Calypso asked tentatively.

“They’re probably expecting us to be done with the dishes by now…” Leo glanced at the clock on the wall. “But… I guess one more kiss won’t hurt?”

“I would hope so,” Calypso said and reached for him, pressing another kiss to his mouth.

#caleo #leo valdez #calypso #heroes of olympus #percy jackson and the olympians #trials of apollo #my fics #caleo uni au

[akampana]

3 for cutoria

3. “Do I really have to spell it out for you? I love you! Are you happy now?” This got a lil' long, so I put the rest under the cut. Hope you like!

___________ Sometimes, she wished she had a few more inches to her height, but then again, if she were any taller, it would be harder to escape being caged to the hallway.

“Rejected again? C’mon ‘Turia, I just want lunch. Can’t ya spend an hour away from those accounting books for an old friend?”

Arturia had known Cú a long time. They were in the same neighborhood, the same kindergarten, the same elementary school, the same high school, and even the same sports club. As far back as she could remember, Cú had been her friend, maybe even her best friend. No one else could claim to join her at lunch just to steal half the cookies Merlin always snuck into her bag.

Then puberty hit and everything just...changed. Cú Chulainn became quite the flirt, especially after the growth spurt that shot him up to six feet. Suddenly, he’d be seen cutting classes with Ferdiad, trying his luck with the school’s angel, Jeanne, occasionally even stealing away with Miss Pink-haired-and-Popular, to say nothing of the various girls he hit on in the hallway to the latter’s dismay.

He even began flirting with Arturia. Leaving blue flowers in her pockets, always sitting literally within her personal space, offering to carry her books and walk her home. She wished he wouldn’t be so coquettish. Especially when he didn’t mean it. Maybe then she could have walked out of high school with a heart that wasn’t broken in so many places.

Because no matter how close they got, no matter how many times she’d endeavor to make him smile, by the next day he’d be going out with someone else.

The few months in between graduation and uni, she’d tried to forget about the athletic boy-next-door, thinking that moving to a far-off city would aid the process. Fate must have had a grudge against her, because Cú ended up taking the scholarship from the very university she chose to attend. Now, she’d have to spend the next four years of university avoiding the person who decided literally everyone else was a better romantic option than her.

“Examinations are coming soon, Cú. I need all the time I can get if I want to do well,” she replied, dodging the hand that went for her wrist.

Unfortunately, the long-haired freshman was not deterred.

“C’mon,” he pleaded, clapping his hands together. “We haven’t hung out in ages. I didn’t see ya all break. And I had to sprint all the way here! Ya know how far my classes are from yours.”

Arturia pursed her lip, dismissing the thought that he’d gone out of his way to see her. Of course, he didn’t. Maybe he was just on his way to find some other lucky boy he’d given his number. He’d cut class a couple of times to see Diarmuid back in senior year. Running across campus wouldn’t be out of the question.

“No,” Arturia enunciated softly, veering left for the library. Her ‘old friend’ couldn’t follow her in. He’d brought his lunch and food wasn’t allowed in there. As soon as she’d gripped the handle though, she found herself yanked away into an empty hallway by an angry, impatient Cú.

“‘Turia.”

God, she hated how easily he threw out that nickname. But she loathed even more that she always, always had to respond to him.

“Why are ya avoiding me? It’s just me, shortie.”

Yes, just him. Him and that stupid boyish grin, that damn supernatural talent he had for making her laugh, that kind, kind heart she wished was hers.

“Because there’s no point, is there, Cú?” she muttered, her voice strained. “You will take me to lunch, we’ll have a good time, and then you’ll leave. Maybe have dinner somewhere nice, share a drink, and then you’ll leave. And maybe we keep doing that. Maybe you keep making me happy, making me feel so glad to have someone like you in my life, but I know you’ll leave because you never choose me.”

Cú raised an eyebrow, confused. “Ya see anyone else around—”

His phone chimed in his pocket, interrupting his train of thought. He pulled it out in haste, pressing the button to reject the call, but the damage had been done. Arturia didn’t even want to know who that was. There was already a long list of beautiful individuals she felt inferior to. She didn’t need to add one more.

“Please stop talking to me,” she whispered in haste. Arturia tried to leave, but everywhere she turned she was blocked. Stupid jock.

“Look,” he said carefully, gently squeezing her wrist. “If that’s what ya want, fine. I’ll be happy to leave you alone. I just can’t understand why—”

“—Do I really have to spell it out for you?” Arturia questioned, ripping her arm out of his grip. She was so tired. So tired of being strung along with all his flirtations only to be dropped the second he found something prettier and shinier to go crazy over. She was tired of being there for him during his break-ups, his make-ups, his crushes, of being the receiver of attention only when there was no other for him to focus on.

“I love you!” she admitted, cursing her foolish heart for ever wanting something that wasn’t meant to be. “Are you happy now?”

Tears began to form at the corners of her eyes. “I know I can’t ask you to love me back. But I have loved you, for...for so terribly long and...I can no longer be around you, Cú. It hurts too much.”

Her childhood friend froze, speechless at her confession. Before she knew what she was doing, her legs had rushed her back into her dorm, safe under the sheets.

Cú put his phone to his ear, feeling his chest ache with a pain so potent he didn’t know if he could ever recover. He’d been an utter fool, searching and searching for...hell, he didn’t know. It had taken graduation, being separated from Arturia for him to realize she was what he’d been missing this whole time. He should have known back then that there was a reason he kept pushing Scathách to keep sending him to the same school she was in.

“She reject you, brat?” his mentor’s voice came through the phone, offering little comfort.

“No,” he enunciated regretfully. “I did that myself.”

#thank you for the ask! #my feelings really went ooft while writing this #akampana asks #love confession prompts #cu chulainn #cu #lancer #artoria pendragon #arturia pendragon #artoria #arturia #cutoria #cuturia #fanfic #fanfiction #fate #fate/stay night #fgo #fate grand order #fate fanfic

[artificialqueens]

Are You in Love With a Notion? (Diamond Chaney) - Ortega

summary: Ellie wakes up in the Lake District with a hangover, an engagement ring, and her best friend in her bed. It’s not quite Vegas, but it’s still a cataclysmic mess.

a/n: this one goes out to the anon that came to my inbox with the concept “diamond chaney but they impulsively get married one night and have to deal with the consequences later”. it was too good to just headcanon for so it’s now a fully-fledged fic. it’s complete and utter silly nonsense and it’s by no means the most groundbreaking writing in the world, but it is FUN! hope u all enjoy and pls enjoy my continued campaign for u all to board the diamond chaney clown bus xo

(do people still use snapchat? fuck knows, but i needed it for plot purposes. if u like u can pretend this is set in 2016.)

***

Ellie wakes up feeling like a bat has shat in her head.

It feels as if her pulse is contained entirely within her cranium given the way it’s throbbing, and every time she blinks it’s as if each of her eyelashes weigh twenty kilogrammes. She momentarily wonders where she is before the heavy cream drapes and the shiny glass-topped bedside table come into focus and she remembers she’s in the hotel room. A’whora had wanted to splash out for her birthday (“you only turn a quarter of a century old once, ladies!”) and no expense was spared since she’d got that promotion a few months back. She’d covered the difference for any of the girls who wouldn’t have been able to afford to go away and Ellie was thankful for her friend’s kindhearted and generous nature. After all, she’s not the kind of girl who would say no to a treat, and she’ll return the favour as soon as her salon takes off.

(And it will take off. She didn’t study business for nothing.)

But the room right now, even with its four-poster bed and the cosy sheets and the four soft pillows, is providing absolutely no respite from the fact that Ellie is hanging out of her arse. Throwing her arm over her eyes as she squeezes them shut, she gives a small, self-indulgent sob of anguish and suffering.

And as she rolls from her side onto her back, she becomes aware of the fact that she’s not alone in the bed.

The dread and fear that grips her heart reminds her of when she went on school camp in Primary 7 and had to jump into one of those freezing cold plunge pools.

She keeps her arm over her eyes for a few more seconds to allow herself to work up the mental stability she needs to face whoever’s at her side. Maybe it’s a dream. Maybe this has all been in her mind and in a moment she’s going to wake up hangover-free with her bed blissfully empty.

Ellie brings her arm down from her eyelids and, without knowing what possesses her (aside from the copious amounts of alcohol that remain in her bloodstream), bites down gently on her arm in lieu of pinching herself.

She can confirm she is still very much awake.

It’s not that a one-night-stand is beyond her; she would even go as far as to say that at one point both she and A’whora were infamous for it back at uni, and she’s admittedly glad that “Dirty Diamond” just isn’t as catchy as “A’whora” and therefore that particular nickname hasn’t stuck with her into adult life like it has for her friend. No, what she’s surprised at herself for is the fact she’s brought someone back at her big age. She hasn’t had a random hookup for a while now, and the fact she can’t remember it is even worse.

She presses the hand that’s under the duvet against her thigh and her heart almost gives out with relief at the fact she can feel clothes. She can’t have gone too far, then. This is okay. This is salvageable. As she runs her fingers over the hem of whatever the fuck she’s wearing, realisation slowly dawns on her that it’s her pink playsuit from the night before.

Ellie genuinely can’t tell if the situation is better because she’s not naked, or worse because she’s still in her clothes from last night.

Her pulse skyrockets again, however, as an arm gently thuds over her waist through the duvet and the person, whoever the hell they even are, snuggles into her side contentedly. Only…it all feels too weirdly familiar for Ellie’s liking. The body beside her, the closeness, even the rise and fall of the breathing is all that of someone she feels like she knows.

Lifting her arm off her eyes and to her forehead, opening them, and finally ripping the plaster off to see who’s by her side, Ellie doesn’t know whether to be relieved or slightly horrified.

A purple velvet jumpsuit with a belt to tie her in at the waist that’s coming undone. Black and purple painted nails. Endless waves of thick lilac hair that are fanned out in tendrils across the white pillowslip. An entire face of perfectly painted makeup that’s still clinging on from the night before.

It’s Lawrence. She’s waking up beside her best friend. This is fine. This is totally normal. They’ve shared a bed countless times before back at uni, and it’s not something Ellie’s ever been adverse to- quite the opposite in fact, she thinks, as her stomach does a flip.

Something still feels off, though.

And then, as Ellie brings her hand down from her forehead and something bumps against it, it hits her- physically and metaphorically- all at once.

The ring Lawrence always wears; her pride and joy, her grandmother’s ring. The one that looks like the heart of the ocean on her finger, a huge blue diamond surrounded by eight small platinum ones. The ring Lawrence guards with her life and would only take off if it was physically tasered off her. The ring that could single-handedly obliterate Lawrence’s entire student debt and probably Ellie’s too if she was feeling generous enough.

The ring- that ring- is currently sitting on the fourth finger of Ellie’s left hand. As if it’s an engagement ring.

“Lawrence,” Ellie says without thinking. Her voice is croaky and too-loud in the silence of the room, but Lawrence still takes a while to stir beside her. She pulls Ellie close with the arm that’s round her, nuzzles her face into her arm. Usually the feeling wouldn’t be an unwelcome one, but just now Ellie’s got bigger problems. She hisses again. “Lawrence, wake up.”

“I’m not shagging you, Ruth Davidson, you wee Tory,” Lawrence’s sleep-coated voice comes from beside her, and Ellie finally draws back, reaches behind her and takes the pillow out from under her head to thump her with.

“For fuck’s sake! Lawrence, wake up! We’re in the shit here!”

As Lawrence finally blinks slowly, Ellie watches her go through the seven stages of grief far more rapidly than she’s just done. She feels like an idiot for the way her heart dips in disappointment when Lawrence shuffles back from her and draws her arm away self-consciously. She mumbles, grumpy and tired. “Ellie, I’m not alive.”

“Yes you are, drama queen.”

“No I’m fucking not. I feel how Prince Philip looks,” she groans in despair, obviously as hungover as Ellie is. She screws her face up and rubs her eyes, in turn smearing her makeup over her cheekbones. “Why am I even here?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we shagged,” Ellie says dryly, before holding the back of her hand up to Lawrence’s face. “Main question is, why the hell do I have this?”

Lawrence’s eyes grow wide in recognition before she groans and thumps her head back against the pillow. “How did you even…? Aw, I don’t know, Ellie, I’m too hungover to be mad about it. Just gies it back before you breathe and lose it or some shite.”

“But why is it…you know. Why is it here?” Ellie asks insistently, pressing her hand against her friend’s face in a deliberately annoying way. Lawrence grabs her wrist and forces it away from her face to get a proper look, and Ellie can see the cogs turn in her head before her face blanches at the implication.

Appearing to try and collect herself, Lawrence frowns, batting Ellie’s arm away. “You were probably getting hit on by some reprobate forty year old man in a suit so I’ll have let you pretend to be married to me. You should be honoured, really, it’s the closest you’ll get to perfection.”

“Piss off,” Ellie rolls her eyes as Lawrence gives a sleepy chuckle. She fiddles with the ring on her finger. It’s a little too small, and taking it off is proving difficult. Combined with the underlying stress of something still not being right, though, and it’s not enough to make Ellie’s dread dissipate.

“Can you remember any of last night?” she asks Lawrence, who’s scrabbling around on the bedside table for her phone.

“Nothing. You?”

“Neither,” Ellie rubs her temples with her fingers as if trying to massage the hangover out of her brain. No such luck.

“A’whora will be worse than us, then, won’t she? Because the last thing I remember is her and Tayce necking the prosecco at pres- oh, shit,” Lawrence has successfully retrieved her phone, and as she cuts herself off she’s frowning at it as if it’s committed a crime against her. “She’s calling just now, actually.”

Ellie already knows A’whora will be perfectly fresh and put together even before Lawrence swipes her phone across the screen to accept the facetime call, and so seeing her looking exactly that plus her girlfriend beside her looking the exact same just makes Ellie want to die even more.

A’whora’s smile is smug on her face as she smirks at them through the phone. “How are you two lovebirds doing this morning?”

Her words are like cold water down Ellie’s spine, and from the way Lawrence’s expression has changed too it seems she’s not the only one. She’s wondering what A’whora’s trying to imply with her joke and really, really hoping it’s just an innocent barb with no meaning behind it. Ellie can’t speak, but Lawrence gets there before her anyway. “What?”

“The married couple! The newlyweds! The babas!” Tayce jumps in, way too energetic and excited and making Ellie feel more hungover just looking at her.

Her words, though, aren’t helping her growing need to spew all over the hotel room floor. “What are you talking about?”

A’whora’s jaw drops open, and she barely conceals a laugh. “Oh my God. What do you remember?”

Ellie doesn’t want to give either of them the satisfaction of admitting that the answer’s nothing, but Lawrence is talking before she can get a chance. “Neither of us can remember anything. All I know is that I woke up in bed with this slut and she’s tried to steal my gran’s ring off me to…fuck knows, pretend she’s married to me. She wishes.”

“Lawrence,” Tayce starts, barely audible from giggling. “You two are married. You got married last night.”

What the fuck.

How can they be married? It’s not possible. Ellie tries to think but she can’t conjure up any clear thoughts. She feels the same smack of dread and fear that she felt when she went on that motorcycle rollercoaster at Flamingo Land two summers ago. Lawrence had been by her side then, too, her hand over Ellie’s white-knuckled one and reeling off ridiculous jokes to try and calm her down. She hates rollercoasters, and this one doesn’t seem like it’s going to be over anytime soon.

Lawrence doesn’t seem fazed. “You’re on the wind-up. Els, don’t give them the satisfaction, they’re taking the piss.”

“We’re not!” Tayce gasps, affronted, and A’whora is protesting adamantly too. “There was a wedding party in the bar last night and the pair of you kept moaning about how single you were and how you’d never find love.”

Lawrence narrows her eyes at her through the camera, offended. Ellie is inclined to feel the same.

“And the pair of you eventually decided you were just going to marry each other. Bimini mentioned they’re an ordained minister, so then you both insisted they married the pair of you in the hotel bar.”

“Get so far to fuck,” Lawrence snorts derisively, but it’s still not helping Ellie’s rising, terrified heart rate. “We’re meanty believe this, aye? Why in the fuck would I ever agree to marrying this wee cow, as if I would lower myself!?”

Ouch. Ellie scowls, screws her face up as she tears her eyes away from the screen and looks at Lawrence pointedly. “Thanks babes, love you too.”

“But you know what I mean!” Lawrence sort-of-not-really apologises. “Right, then, I’ll bite. If we got married, how did we get to the registry office? What registry office is open at eleven at night on a Saturday?”

A’whora shrugs all blasé. “There’s one in the hotel, we just went there. Caught it just before it closed, I think.”

Ellie narrows her eyes. She wants to believe it’s a joke, so she attempts to pick a hole in the story. “If we were that drunk, though, they wouldn’t have married us? Surely? I mean it’s not Vegas, A’whora, it’s the fucking Lake District.”

“Oh no, baby, the registrar said they get couples turning up drunk all the time! And obviously myself, A’whora and Bimini were much more sober than you, so we were the responsible adults. Or bridesmaids, I guess. We were that classy level of prosecco tipsy, you pair were on the vodka lemonades by eight last night,” Tayce explains.

As the story unfolds, Ellie feels more and more nauseous. She wants to crawl up into a ball like a dead woodlouse. Surely not. Surely not.

“Wedding dresses,” Lawrence says argumentatively. “We didn’t have wedding dresses. It would’ve been so obvious we were taking the piss.”

“Oh, neither of you would stop going on about how the colour scheme was pink and purple! Matching pink and purple playsuits! Which I see you’re still wearing, you absolute hounds,” Tayce wrinkles her nose in distaste.

Everything seems to be adding up to a ridiculously clear and yet blurry degree, and Ellie can’t in any way cope with the magnitude of the situation. She throws her arms over her face and curls up into the foetal position with a groan of self-pity. Through the duvet, she feels Lawrence whack her.

“Ellie, shut up! It’s so obviously a joke,” she insists, and Ellie can hear the roll of her eyes. A’whora and Tayce are cackling down the phone like two little Wizard of Oz witches and Ellie’s never identified more with Dorothy in her life.

“Well, believe us or don’t believe us, still doesn’t change the fact you got hitched,” A’whora says lightly. “I mean, you’ll have the marriage certificate to prove it. You had it last night, it’ll be in your room somewhere.”

Ellie pops her head out from under the duvet in horror. Her voice comes out as a horrified squeak. “Marriage certificate?”

A’whora shrugs. “Yeah! If you don’t believe us then maybe you’ll believe a piece of paper.”

“The marriage certificate that doesn’t exist. Aye, nae bother,” Lawrence says, still clearly disdainful of the story. “You coming to breakfast or what?”

“Oh, babe! Been there, done that! We got up at seven, showered, dressed, makeup, breakfast, and we’ve been out for a walk. Get on our level,” Tayce flicks her hair. Ellie fleetingly loathes her.

Lawrence rubs her forehead with her free hand, clearly headachey. “Well I’m starving, so I’m not hanging around to be wound up by the fuckin’ lesbian Prank Patrol any longer. Time’s check out?”

“You’ve got til half twelve. I got us a late one, figured we’d all need it.”

As Lawrence promises to see the other two later and hangs up, Ellie can’t speak. She’s still in shock at the potential truth from last night; that they actually got married. To each other. Over the years, Ellie’s invented made-up scenarios in her head that involve various things: telling Lawrence how she feels, kissing Lawrence, Lawrence asking her on a date. None of them have involved marriage. She’s never even thought to think that far ahead, but now it’s a reality it doesn’t seem like the Disney-princess dream she’s always expected it to be.

It actually feels sort of like a nightmare.

A thud from a pillow brings her back to reality. “Ellie!”

Ellie looks at her friend, who’s managed to crawl off the bed and is standing beside it, looking expectantly at her. Ellie blinks in bewilderment, rubs her eyes before she speaks. “What?”

“I’m gonna go shower and get changed and then we can go down to breakfast? I’ll come back and knock in about fifteen minutes?”

Ellie can’t believe she’s so calm. Sitting up in bed and feeling her head sting again, she looks pointedly at Lawrence. “You’re not in any way bothered about the story the girls just told us? The fact we might have got married?”

Lawrence snorts. “Oh, Ellie, please. You’re so gullible I swear to God someone could tell you Davina McCall’s the new Pope and you’d just nod and accept it.”

“But the marriage certificate, though? The ring? Which, by the way, won’t come off,” Ellie tugs on it again, trying not to panic when it doesn’t budge.

“There won’t be a marriage certificate! You said it, it’s the UK, it’s not Vegas. There’s a reason shotgun weddings aren’t a thing here. You honestly think we could just rock up to a registry office and get married?”

Ellie falls silent. She should feel reassured, but she doesn’t.

“I’m away to scrub the first ten layers of alcohol sweat out of my pores, awrite? You better be ready by the time I’m back.”

Lawrence leaves and Ellie is left on her own with her thoughts, which all seem to ricochet off her brain and pummel it to a husk, making her hangover worse. She still searches lazily for the fabled marriage certificate in between showering and getting ready, looking fruitlessly under discarded clothes on the floor and under furniture. Lawrence is right- she knows Lawrence is right- but there’s still a part of Ellie’s mind that’s niggling away with a what if on a loop.

By the time Lawrence knocks on her door again, Ellie is back not knowing what to think. She finds herself frantically babbling to her on the way down to the hotel restaurant in the lift, but her friend won’t entertain it.

“You’re too easy to prank. How can you believe them, it’s obviously a bam up!”

“Well, it could’ve happened! They brought it up before we even said we couldn’t remember anything, right? I mean, why else would you give me your ring? You barely trust me to hold your phone for two seconds to take a picture,” Ellie runs a hand through her hair, which she didn’t wash and is still in its big curls from the night before.

“Aye! Because you dropped it in the road when we went out for Jazz’s birthday!”

“That was two years ago! And I paid for the screen repairs!” Ellie cries in indignation, but the memory still makes her blush. She grows quiet again before her mind takes her back to the apparent events of last night. “The story makes sense.”

“The story does not make sense!” Lawrence sighs, agitated. “What proof do we have? You’re wearing my ring and our pals have told us the plot of a Hangover film? Honestly, hen, if we got married last night I’ll buy you an Uber back to Dundee.”

As they reach the dining room, the pair of them stop dead in the entranceway. Because there in the middle, almost as if it’s framed, is a table for two surrounded by inflatable red heart-shaped balloons, covered in red sparkly confetti, with champagne flutes and roses and polished silverware.

“What time’s my Uber booked for, then?” Ellie deadpans sarcastically. She doesn’t know why she’s making a joke. She isn’t in a joking mood. She’s nothing short of horrified.

“Calm down. That won’t be for us. A’whora said there was a wedding party last night, remember? It’ll be for them,” Lawrence reassures her, but Ellie doesn’t miss the distinct lack of self-assuredness to her voice that had been there before.

A waiter approaches them and asks for their name. Lawrence speaks (because Ellie can’t quite manage), and in return the waiter fixes them with a bright smile.

“Ladies, on behalf of us all at the Old England, we would like to wish you many congratulations and happiness on this most special occasion. Please, follow me,” he reels off before walking in the direction of the over-the-top, Valentine’s Day-style photoshoot set-up that is apparently where they’re having breakfast.

Ellie is going to be sick.

“You’ve got to be fucking joking,” Lawrence whispers all in one breath, before sleepwalking towards their table and sitting down with a tight smile of thanks to the eager waiter. As Ellie sits in the chair opposite, she notices the affectionate smiles from couples at other tables and feels her face flush with hot embarrassment. The waiter disappears with a promise to be back for their order soon, and the pair of them are left sitting in stunned silence.

“Lawrence,” Ellie says first. Her gaze is stuck on the table, shocked and stunned.

“Don’t,” Lawrence replies. When Ellie finally looks at her she’s sitting with her eyes squeezed shut, her face a picture of strained concentration.

“What are you doing? You look constipated.”

“I’m trying to wake up from this abject fucking nightmare,” Lawrence says through gritted teeth.

Even though Lawrence is right- it is a nightmare, it’s a bad, terrible dream- it doesn’t stop the way her words feel ever-so-slightly like a blow to the crush Ellie’s harboured for an embarrassingly long length of time. She can’t think about that, though. There are bigger issues at stake here. Like the fact they’re married.

“Do you believe me now? Why the hell would the hotel do all this if we didn’t get married in their registry office the night before?”

“It’ll be…” Lawrence begins, trying to explain it away then putting her head in her hands when she realises she’s at a loss. “Fuck, I don’t know. We need A’whora or Tayce down here to talk it through with us. Or Bimini. If it’s A’whora and Tayce’s prank then they might not be in on it.”

“They had to go back to London early for a shoot, remember? They’ll have already left,” Ellie reminds Lawrence, and her face falls in dismay.

The waiter returns holding a bottle of champagne and Ellie watches Lawrence turn over her flute with a little aggressive thud and doesn’t say when until the bubbles climb to the very top of the glass. They both order pastries, Ellie’s appetite completely gone and Lawrence’s appearing to be the same.

Ellie narrows her eyes at Lawrence as she watches her glug the bubbles down. “How the hell can you be drinking at a time like this? Are you not hungover?”

“I am hungover, yes. But I need to be drunk to deal with this situation. So I’m hoping this’ll at least take the edge off a bit,” she says dryly. Ellie rolls her eyes.

“Being drunk got us into this situation, it’s not gonna get us out of it,” she sighs helplessly, realising too late that she sounds too much like her Mum. Lawrence responds appropriately; shaking her head at her moodily and staring off into the distance as she keeps sipping from her glass.

Ellie cups her cheeks, thanks the waiter weakly as he puts down a tray of pastries in front of the two of them. She tries to go over the events of last night in her head but draws a blank every time. According to A’whora and Tayce they’ll have been at the bar, decided to get married…Bimini had married them, somehow and somewhere, and they’d gone to the registrar…then they’d presumably got even more drunk and had a dance, and then…

How had Lawrence ended up in her room? Unless they’d…no. They’d both still had their clothes on from the night before.

But that wouldn’t have stopped them making out.

“Oh, God,” Ellie groans, unable to hold in the regret and the constant pain of her headache. Lawrence shoots her a funny look. Ellie’s loath to explain herself. The idea that the first kiss she’s shared with Lawrence has been messy, drunk, and one she can’t even remember is one that makes her feel stupid amounts of disappointed, but she’s not exactly going to share that with her friend.

“Loz, what if we did something last night?”

“What, aside from get married?” Lawrence talks through a mouthful of croissant. Then, as realisation dawns, her chewing stops. “Oh.”

There’s an awkward silence as they both stare at each other.

“Nah,” Lawrence finally shrugs as she resumes eating. “Because we both still had our clothes from last night on when we woke up?”

“Yeah, but we still could’ve kissed,” Ellie pulls a face, the words feeling too awkward and childish as they come out of her mouth. Lawrence seems to hesitate for a second before smirking across the table at her.

“Aye right. As if I’d ever let you near enough to me for that to happen.”

“Rich from the girl who was wrapped around me when I woke up,” Ellie quirks an eyebrow at her, and it’s Lawrence’s turn to fall silent.

Breakfast doesn’t last long. Between their hangovers and the fact that they’re both trying to make sense of the whole crazy situation neither of them can eat much, and they’re dragging themselves back to their rooms before too long. They continue to discuss everything, purely because there’s not much else they can talk about when the prospect of them being married is hanging over their heads like the world’s heaviest cloud. This time, though, it’s Lawrence who’s doing most of the nervous talking.

“I’m sure it’s easily explained away. They probably just got our table confused with the wedding party’s from yesterday. That’ll be what it is. Just some big coincidence. There’s a reasonable explanation to it all. Have you got that fuckin’ ring off your finger yet?!”

“I’m working on it,” Ellie grumbles. The best she’s managed is getting it halfway to her first knuckle before realising it was cutting the blood circulation off even more and she could get it no higher, so she’d immediately pushed it back down again.

She hears herself huff with annoyance. All she wants to do is sleep but they have to somehow deal with this first, and it’s more inconvenient than she’d ever hoped her first marriage (her only marriage) would be. Thinking for a second, she gives a little gasp as she has an idea. “Why don’t we just go down to the registry office and ask?”

Lawrence stops walking, fixes Ellie with a look as if she’s sprouted another head. “Have you lost the bloody place?! You want to go up to the registrar and go, ‘sorry to bother you, but can you please tell us if we’re married or not?’ We’d get sectioned!”

Ellie thinks that, even though it sounds as if it’s the easiest course of action, Lawrence is probably right.

“Besides,” Lawrence continues. “If there’s the possibility that we did rock up three sheets to the wind last night, I don’t particularly wanty show my face there again.”

“Right,” Ellie agrees. She bites her lip as she reaches the door to her room and puts her key card in. Lawrence waits beside her, a mutual understanding that she’s coming in to continue the conversation.

Ellie supposes she’s her wife now, so it makes sense.

“Who could we phone to confirm it, then? The government?”

Lawrence pinches the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “Ellie, you did not just ask me if we could phone the gov-”

“Oh my fucking God.”

Ellie cuts Lawrence off without thinking, and upon seeing the inside of the room Lawrence is rendered speechless too. There’s more balloons, ones without weights that cover the ceiling over the bed. The bed itself and the floor surrounding it is covered in rose petals, and on top of the pristinely made duvet there’s a box of chocolates and two bathrobes origami-d into swans.

Lawrence is the first to march into the room. She snatches up a small note that’s sitting on top of the chocolate box, unfolds it and reads aloud. “Congratulations to the happy couple, we wish you both a long and happy marriage. From all the staff at the Old England hotel. Fuck me, this canny be real.”

Ellie lets the door swing shut, walks over to the bed and sits on its edge precariously. An idea occurs to her as she retrieves her phone from her pocket. “Here. Check your phone. Messages, photos. There might be clues.”

She doesn’t look up to see if Lawrence is nodding or not, but she assumes she’s following her suggestion. Ellie is busy with her camera roll (where there’s nothing, and the last photo is a terrible, blurry, unflattering selfie of her and Tayce) when Lawrence gives a hum of recognition.

“I got a snapchat from you at one in the morning.”

Ellie cranes her neck. “What does it say?”

Lawrence, oddly, is keeping the phone out of her view. She’s quiet before she brings the phone back into Ellie’s line of vision, and the picture, whatever it was, is gone. “Just a drunk selfie. Nothing that could give us any clues.”

The pair of them are quiet as Lawrence taps against her phone screen. Ellie reflects. They’ve been in the shit like this together before: when they were eighteen and both their phones died before Lawrence’s Mum could pick them up from T in the Park and they got yelled at the whole way home when she’d eventually found them both, when they’d been stopped by the police because Lawrence had carried a traffic cone through the City Centre and tried to put it on top of the existing one on the Duke of Wellington statue. But this is a whole different level of shit.

Through it all, though, Lawrence has always been there with a joke and a laugh and reassurance for Ellie that things are never as bad as they seem. She always has this panicky way of staying positive, delivering comforting words through a voice that’s shaky with her own anxiety. Ellie always helps her in return when she needs it, has done for years: she’s usually good at staying calm, she’s chatty and can talk Lawrence through anything, and she’ll always reach out to take her hand or be there with a hug and a reminder that as long as Lawrence has got her, she’s never on her own. They’ve always seemed to take turns being each others’ anchors, and their friendship is a weird sort of pendulum of support. Today, however, they’re both blindly stumbling through their own process of coming to terms with this situation, and Ellie supposes neither or them are being much of a help to each other. She wishes she could be more helpful, because she cares about her friend so much.

Too much for it to be explained away as a friendship.  

“What are you looking up?” Ellie asks as Lawrence lies back on the bed with a thud, eyes still glued to her phone. Craning her neck, Ellie can see she’s typed how to get divorced into Google.

“Why are there no ordained divorce lawyers?” Lawrence mutters under her breath. “We can get married in a hotel bar but we can’t get divorced in a hotel room? What kind of fucking bullshit is this?”

Ellie lies back too. It’s not lost on her how close together their heads are. “Why are you trying to get us divorced? We might not even be married. I still think we should phone up the government.”

“Nicola Sturgeon’s got bigger fish to fry, babes, there’s an election in May.”

“Not the government, obviously,” Ellie rolls her eyes, scrolls her own phone absent-mindedly. She’d look something up to try and help but she’s at a loss. “Like…the offices! The records of marriage and stuff. They’ll have a department for this sort of thing, won’t they?”

“Will we even be on the system if our marriage is less than twenty-four hours old?” Lawrence wonders out loud. “And if we got married here, would we be registered in England, then? Aw fuck, so many questions and not a single answer.”

Ellie frowns to herself as she thinks. “What if we do have to get divorced? Will we need a lawyer? I don’t have that kind of money, Lawrie, and neither do you.”

Lawrence hums in worried agreement, and Ellie presses her lips together. It’s weird dealing with all of this when there’s a crush at play. In amongst frantically trying to figure everything out and clarify it all, a tiny part of Ellie wonders…would it really be so bad to be married to Lawrence? There’s not really an excuse for them not to date now. It’s really the perfect way of ruining the friendship she’s been so worried about ruining for the past few years; it’s not awkward to say she has feelings for her literal wife, she supposes. But every time those thoughts rest in her brain for a few seconds, Ellie forces herself to chase them away- because really, hen, are you insane? The sheer scale of the situation isn’t lost on her, she knows they have to figure it out somehow and mop this mess up. But pretending would be nice, and safe, and far, far away from this alcohol-soaked bubble of horror she appears to have woken up in.

It’s out before she knows it, though. “What if we just stayed married? If we are. If we just stayed married until we could afford to get divorced?”

“Jesus Christ, Ellie,” Lawrence drops her phone onto the bed, covering her eyes with her hands in resigned exhaustion.

“No, think about it! There must be loads of benefits to getting married,” Ellie explains, feeling as if she has to justify the ridiculous thought now. “You get, um. I think you get extra money from the government?”

“The tories have never given out extra money. To anyone,” Lawrence glares at her.

(Ellie knows it’s not what she should be taking from this, but it occurs to her that the way Lawrence has done her eyeliner today makes her eyes look really pretty.)

“Oh! Here, it says you get tax breaks if you get married. It would be good to not have to pay council tax for a bit,” Ellie says, looking up from her phone where she’s just googled what are the benefits of getting married UK.

Lawrence pauses beside her. When she speaks, she sounds contemplative. “Well, you’d be taking my last name, because am I fuck taking yours.”

Ellie gives a choked noise of indignation. “Fuck off, I’ve got the best last name out of the two of us! Diamond?”

“It’s the last name of a porn star! I’m not living my daily life like that!”

“So you want me to go by Ellie Chaney? A name that rhymes? Like a character from Balamory?”

“You already dress like a fuckin’ character from a kids’ TV show, it wouldn’t be that far-fetched,” Lawrence starts giggling, and Ellie can only fix her with an unimpressed pout. “Nah, this wouldn’t work, Els. We’re already arguing and it’s only been one day. We couldn’t stay married. Besides, I’ve got fucking standards, you know? I could so do better than you.”

It’s silly, Ellie knows, but the last comment from Lawrence stings more than it should. It’s got nothing to do with the concept of the two of them actually being married, but more the fact that Lawrence has basically just rubbished any hopes that Ellie’s ever had of maybe-someday-oneday them breaking out of their little bubble of friendship and trying to be anything more. She’s always done it; that’s Lawrence’s way, to shit on Ellie, to gently bully her, but Ellie has always known there’s no malice behind it. Except today it all hits differently, it hits a sore spot that she’s too tired of trying to keep hidden.

“Sorry that being married to me is such a disgusting prospect,” Ellie snaps without realising, turning over on the bed and standing up so she doesn’t have to see Lawrence’s reaction to the comment she already regrets.

“When did I say that?” Lawrence fires back, and Ellie can tell she’s confused by her reaction.

“We need to find this fucking marriage certificate,” Ellie ignores her, opening the drawers of the bedside table even though she sort of knows it’s a futile endeavour since she’s already searched.

Lawrence pushes, though, never one to back down from a confrontation.  “Why are you suddenly raging at me, what am I meant to have done?”

“You don’t have to act like you got landed with the booby prize on a game show, Lawrence, I’m still your friend. There’s worse people to be stuck with,” Ellie continues as she crosses the room to look in the drawers of the dressing table, hating the way she sounds like a petulant child but being unable to help the way her words just seem to be coming out.

There’s a silence that hangs in the air like fog, and then Lawrence’s voice comes again. It’s softer, a comforting note to it that makes Ellie’s heart lift cruelly. “Ellie.”

Ellie opens the wardrobe doors, realising too late what a ridiculous place to look it is but committing to the idea anyway. She’s still way too hungover to cope with any of this, and the prospect of an argument with Lawrence, especially over this, isn’t one she’s able to face. Accepting she’s not going to find the certificate, she sighs and walks back over to the bed. As she sits on its edge and keeps her back to her friend she fiddles with the ring on her finger, and it finally, mercifully, slides off.

Lawrence’s voice is stripped of all its aggression and incredulity from before as she speaks again. This time she’s quiet and sincere. “Ellie. What’s this really about?”

Before Ellie can consider the gravity of the question or indeed contemplate how to word an answer, Lawrence’s phone vibrates against the bedcovers. Neither of them speak as she reaches up to grab it, but when A’whora’s name flashes up on screen again they share a look of weary exhaustion, neither of them wanting to face their friend’s smug expression.

A’whora’s smiling cheekily as Lawrence answers the call. “How’re the young lovers doing after their breakfast, then?”

Lawrence’s nostrils flare. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.”

“So all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, then. Just calling to see if you liked the wedding presents.”

Ellie feels like a crumbling sandcastle as she rolls onto her side next to Lawrence and looks at A’whora through the screen. “What?”

“The decorations at breakfast! The ones in your room! Just thought they’d really add to the atmosphere,” she smirks, unable to keep from laughing.

More confused than ever, Ellie frowns in bewilderment. “But that was from…the hotel did that?”

“No, I did that. I just phoned down and got them to set it up. They still had a bunch of wedding shit left over from that pair that got married last night. It wasn’t cheap, but it was worth it to give the pair of you the romantic equivalent of everyone singing happy birthday to you at a restaurant,” A’whora explains, still giggly.

Ellie and Lawrence are silent as they stare at their friend through the phone. A’whora seems perturbed, then narrows her eyes at them before she speaks again.

“You two didn’t actually…believe you got married, did you? I thought you knew it was a bullshit prank.”

Before she can register Lawrence’s reaction, Ellie’s mouth drops open in shock. She grabs the phone from Lawrence’s hands and yells at A’whora as if she’s in front of her and not in her own room down the corridor. “A’whora! I am going to fucking kill you!”

A’whora’s laugh comes through the phone like a crackly screech, and Ellie doesn’t miss the unimpressed look from Lawrence at having been unable to style out the fact they’d both been duped. Ellie can’t even let that bother her, though, because she’s too busy tripping over herself to retell to A’whora their rollercoaster of a thought process from this morning.

Lawrence shakes her head beside her, loath to admit she’d been fooled too. “I didn’t believe it for a second. She’s talking out her arse.”

Ellie cries out, affronted. “You were telling me I had to take your last name not even five minutes ago!”

A’whora has to wipe tears from her eyes by the time the pair of them have told her the whole story. “Oh my God, guys. This has been the best birthday present of the weekend. I actually think I’m gonna wee myself. Fuck!”

“I can’t believe you told us we got married and we just…believed you!”

“Well, no, you did get married,” A’whora says.

With this revelation, it crosses Ellie’s mind to lock herself in the hotel sauna until she’s cooked through. “What in the name of God-”

As she continues to speak though, A’whora clarifies. “Or at least, you said you both wanted to marry each other. That conversation did take place. Bimini started joking they were an ordained minister. They showed you their provisional drivers’ license and told you it was a minister’s license. You were both so drunk you believed it.”

“Christ in a wheelie bin,” Lawrence groans.

“But you’re not actually married married. It was just pretend. And hey! We had fun. You should do it for real some day,” A’whora cackles.

If she was in the room with her, Ellie would slap her.

They finish the call with the promise to be packed and ready to meet to check out at half twelve, and when Lawrence locks her phone the pair of them laugh softly about the idiots they’d both been. Ellie is glad A’whora phoned. The conversation that had been taking place prior had been about to go down a route she hadn’t wanted it to, and she’s glad there’s no reason for it to be brought up again. She can go back to keeping her crush on her friend a secret, never to be unearthed.

“I should probably go and start getting packed, then,” Lawrence says decisively, getting up from the bed and making to leave. Ellie remembers what she put on the bedside table, and reaches out to pick it up as she tells Lawrence to wait.

As Lawrence turns around, Ellie holds out her grandmother’s ring, feeling a little awkward as she does so. “Here. Since we’re not married anymore. It came off in the end.”

Lawrence looks a little sheepish as she accepts it with a soft thanks. She gives it a little smile, then shoots the same one at Ellie. “Thank fuck for that.”

There isn’t any malice to her words. If Ellie was being hopeful she’d maybe even say there was regret.

Lawrence leaves and she can’t shake the little niggling feeling of sadness that embeds itself under a synapse in her brain.

***

The cold air that comes with the beginning of Autumn is welcome to Ellie as she sits and waits on Tayce to bring the car round. She’s not quite fully recovered from her hangover, but packing, checking out and getting a can of Monster from a vending machine in the lobby has done wonders for her mood. There’s also the fact that she doesn’t have a potential marriage to consider, so that’s good. That’s a relief.

A crunch of gravel behind her makes her turn around, and seeing Lawrence wrapped up in her black hoodie makes Ellie feel mixed emotions. She feels silly for getting so caught up in the whole idea of them having been married, the way she’d panicked and immediately thought it was all real, taking A’whora and Tayce’s comments at face value. She’s embarrassed at how she’d taken it all so seriously, and most of all she’s embarrassed that Lawrence was there for every reaction.

“Hey,” she greets her, already feeling a blush grow on her face. “You recovered?”

“Just about, yeah,” Lawrence laughs softly. She gestures to the mango loco that’s in Ellie’s hand. “Can see you’re clearly feeling loads better.”

Ellie matches her laugh, raises the can up in a solo cheers. As she drops her arm again, she sighs a little.

“Listen, Lawrence, sorry about…this morning. Immediately panicking and getting so worked up and intense with it all. I was just hangy and emotional and I had the fear…you know what it’s like.”

“It’s no problem. Don’t worry,” Lawrence brushes her off. Her expression is troubled though, as if there’s something else she wants to say. The unspoken words are loud and stifling, and then Lawrence finally meets her gaze with a nervous one of her own. “Well, marriage didn’t really work for us. But…d’you think drinks would be better?”

Ellie’s heart is going to give out. She can’t cope with the events of the day at all. She can already feel her pulse speeding up with hope so she frowns at Lawrence slightly, clarifying like a child tugging the string of a balloon to bring it back to earth. “Drinks?”

“Yeah, like,” Lawrence shrugs, looks to the ground bashfully. “For a date. If you want.”

All at once it’s as if her blood has just suddenly exploded in her veins. It feels like Ellie is on some sort of other-worldly come-up as she blinks at her friend, her friend she’s had a crush on since fuck-even-knows-when, and is stunned into silence.

“The snapchat you sent me last night,” Lawrence continues, scrolling her phone and holding the screen out for Ellie to see. “I’ve felt like that too for a while now.”

Ellie is cringing as she reads the white text against the black screen- a screenshot of her message sent to Lawrence at one in the morning, which reads “so glad whe’re marrrued for rwal vc ive reallt luked you for ages and i quitr fancg u a lot acfually x"

“How did you even manage to read what that says,” Ellie screws her face up, failing to address the bigger picture.

Lawrence smiles, a little hint of a twinkle to her eyes that makes Ellie’s heart thump. “I knew what you meant.”

There’s a small pause where Ellie blushes and looks to the ground, handing Lawrence her phone back. Lawrence uses the silence to keep talking.

“I know I like to rip the piss sometimes, and I know I can take it too far. But today all of that was about…verbalising everything I thought you were feeling about me. Trying to reassure you that I wasn’t interested in you because I thought that’s what you wanted. Once I started I just…didn’t stop, I guess. Damage control, you know? I’m sorry, Ellie,” she reels off quietly. She’s not hiding behind any jokes and she’s not making fun of Ellie and she’s not making fun of herself. It’s honest and simple and raw and everything Ellie’s wanted.

She scuffs some gravel with her shoe. “You feel the same, then?”

Lawrence presses her lips together. Ellie can tell she’s nervous. “Yeah. I do.”

“I do? Is that some kind of sick joke?!” Ellie laughs, and as Lawrence joins in she suddenly hesitates. “Wait. This isn’t a joke, is it?”

“Well, I’ve had enough fucking pranks for one day and I’m pretty sure you have too.”

The pair of them share a laugh, and as Tayce’s car appears from round at the hotel car park, Ellie fixes Lawrence with a smile.

“Drinks sound good.”

Tayce and A’whora appear from the car and pop the boot open, and Lawrence and Ellie try and fail to bite back the smiles they’re shooting each other as they carry their suitcases over, a mutual agreement that they’ll talk more about their plans when they don’t have their nosy and shit-stirring friend and her equally nosy and shit-stirring girlfriend with them on their way to drop them off at the train station.

It’s not quite a shotgun wedding, and it’s not quite a marriage in Vegas. But a date and a drink with the friend she’s hidden her feelings from for too many years is a good place to start.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #ortega #are you in love with a notion #ellie diamond #lawrence chaney #ellie x lawrence #a'whora #tayce #uk2 #lesbian au #marriage #fluff

[twokinkybeans]

Hello! I absolutely love all of your stories! I have a request, can you do a Starker story where Peter and his class go on a field trip to stark tower? I don’t really mind what happens there I just really want to see the ship. If you can thanks so much 💗

CHAPTER 2: BACKPACK

(Read chapter 1: Science Rules on Tumblr / AO3)

Summary: Peter is 14. Recently got his Spider powers and is no longer friends with Flash. Ned is in the picture. They go on a high school excursion and Peter is set on finding Tony to ask if he can join the Avengers. Side note: Tony is not romantically/sexually interested in Peter until chapter 3, when they are in an established relationship. Warnings: Angst. They talk about death whilst not actually mentioning it. Flash is an absolute asshole as always.

Rating: Mature (just to be sure for later on lol).

I actually had this one finished last Sunday but never got around to posting it. It isn’t edited at all, so I hope you enjoy! :P -Lien

“Mister Thompson, if you don’t take a seat this instant, it’ll be detention for you,” Mister Harrington threatens. Flash immediately presses his ass back into his seat and grins at Peter from a distance. They might resent each other now, but their infinite common interest in science, technology and Tony Stark has never faded. They don’t really talk to each other anymore and Peter is not expecting their broken friendship to ever be mended. Not with how Flash treats him these days, at least. The first cracks in their friendship appeared during their last visit to Stark Industries, when Flash became jealous of Peter for spending time with Tony. Flash’s behavior completely changed with his growing popularity at Midtown High. With regards to friendships, he ended up choosing quantity over quality. This resulted in him attempting to gain the schoolkids’ favors by bullying. Since Peter used to be his friend, he became an easy target. Peter might miss what they once had, but at least he managed to trade his friendship with Flash for an even better one. Ned Leeds enabled his geeky side and ever since the boy had helped Peter up after Flash had pushed him to the floor the first time, they became inseparable. Obviously, the school wanted to go to Avengers Tower to get them interested in pursuing careers in science and technology. Something both Ned and Peter already kind of were. As excited as everyone was to get a look inside the labs and workshops, there is a significantly higher interest in getting a glimpse of not just Tony Stark, but of any of the Avengers, now that Stark Tower has been rebirthed as Avengers Tower. However, there was another occupation that Peter also took interest in now that he had gained his Spider powers a little over half a year ago. Becoming an Avenger was his number one career dream. He’d no longer just help the little guy. He’d be able to help everyone. There’s nothing Peter wanted more than to run into Tony again like he did when they had the class trip in middle school. Maybe Peter could train under him? Learn from him? Tony would be the Master to his Padawan. He’d be an Avenger. All he needed right now was the courage to actually ask. Well, he’d have to find Tony- or any Avenger for that matter- first. … The second they set foot in the building, Peter grabs his bag and takes out the Science Rules cap that he wore as a child. He didn’t expect Tony to actually recognize him after all these years, but at least he has one point of reference he could fall back on. Security reminds him he’s not allowed to wear the cap inside, so he opts to attach it to his belt and have it hang from his hip. Flash makes an off-handed comment about it, but Peter ignores him. It still baffles Peter that Flash seems to feel no remorse for joking about the cap that he knows was Peter’s father’s. After the first two hours of the excursion Peter already starts losing hope. Most locations they go to are quite secluded and it’s not easy to get away from the security’s watchful eyes. They had to put their bags in a locker room earlier, so save for his web shooters, Peter couldn’t show Tony the suit he'd so proudly put together. If he would ever run into him. After hour three they’re finally allowed to go into the labs and actually do some tests themselves. Most of the materials they work with are quite harmless. The only thing that really could hurt them if they’re not careful is the bottle of slightly diluted bleach on their desks. At least all of the students want to make a good impression on Stark’s scientists, so they’re all on their best behavior. Everyone, but… “Whoopsies,” Flash deadpans next to Peter. The teen looks up surprised from his own workbench to see Flash, who is stationed next to him, purposefully elbow the bleach bottle. The opening up top is small, but some of the liquid still splashes out of it. Onto Peter’s hip. Peter stares at the cap that now has bleach splattered all over it and then back up at Flash who grins. “Guess it really is a one of a kind now.” Peter runs away from his spot to one of the security guards. He doesn’t trust himself to not start crying if he actually takes time to ask his question properly so all he can blurt out is: “Toilet?” The guard sees Peter’s panic and lets him out. “Uh, there’s one on the left right there.” “Th-thank-“ Water. Peter needs water right now. Needs to wash it out, even though the fabric is already lightening. Who knows, maybe he could wash it out with the tears that are forming in the corners of his eyes. He rushes and throws open the door, immediately starting the stream of water and shoving the cap under it. The further he can dilute the bleach, the better. His left hand clutches the little tag on the inside in an attempt to keep anything from spilling into it and messing up his father’s handwriting. A soft sob escapes his throat, but he’s startled to hear a urinal flush in one of the stalls. He sniffs and attempts to wipe away the tears with the elbow of his shirt. When he hears the door unlock he looks down in a half-assed attempt to focus on cleaning the cap. He bites on the inside of his cheek and clenches his jaw, feeling the presence of the man from the stall emerge. The man casually washes his hands next to Peter but his movement suddenly halts. “Peter?” Peter could recognize that voice in his sleep. His heart beats loudly in his chest and the world is spinning. He blinks before whipping his head up to lock eyes with Tony Stark. “Jeez, you’ve grown.” The man’s brows curl together at the look on Peter’s face. The boy breaks eye contact and looks forward into the mirror, only to realize his cheeks are red and his eyes are puffed. “What the hell happened?” There’s a moment of silence. Peter barely realizes that Tony recognized him. Knows him, still. Is concerned for him. Peter’s mouth opens and closes and he takes a breath before looking back down at the cap and continuing to attempt to wash out the bleach. “Bleach,” he mumbles. “Didn’t take you to be that clumsy.” “Wasn’t wearing it.” “Still.” Peter scrubs more aggressively now, tears threatening to spill again. He’s making a fool of himself and he wishes he could just disappear. “Hey,” Tony says quietly. “Hey-“ Peter’s eyes widen at a hand suddenly holding onto his lower arm. Peter’s frozen where he stands and can only watch defeated as Tony turns off the tap. Only now he feels how wet his cheeks are. When did he start crying again? “Damage’s already been done.” Tony takes the cap out of Peter’s hands and studies the lightened splotches on the front. “Don’t you think this looks cool?” He tries. “Don’t want it to look cool.” “I’m sure your dad won’t-“ Tony stops himself, knowing exactly why he shouldn’t finish his thought. He sucks at his teeth and looks away. “Sorry, how’s your mom?” Peter nearly laughs at Tony’s inability to read the room. “She was with him.” Mortified at his previous decision on how to continue the conversation, Tony takes a step back. Peter looks down at his wet hands and adds: “It’s okay.” “To be honest, no, not really. Are you taken care of?” “My aunt.” “Didn’t Richard have a brother?” Peter looks up again and grimaces, feeling like every word falling from Tony’s lips is a stab to the heart. “Fuck, I’m-“ “It’s okay.” “It’s not.” Tony shakes his head and moves closer to Peter again. “I’m sorry, kid.” The man scoffs. “I used to be better at this… Well, no actually, that’s a lie.” Peter swallows as the two just stare at each other in silence for a few seconds, neither of them sure where to go with this. The boy then clears his throat and moves to stand up straight. “I am, eh… Here on another excursion.” “High school this time, I presume? Or are you in uni already?” “Parents wanted me to have a somewhat normal childhood, so they didn’t want me to get ahead that far. My aunt honors that wish.” Peter now properly washes his hands, since his hands had started to tingle from the bleach. “Aren’t you bored out of your mind, then?” Peter raises his eyebrows and chuckles. “Maybe.” Tony’s wrist beeps and he takes a glance at his watch, sighing exasperated. He heads for the door and hands Peter the cap back on his trek. “Pete, I’m sorry, I gotta go. Give reception a call-“ No, is all Peter can think. Before he can form a rational though, he reaches out and webs Tony’s hand to the door handle, locking both of them in the bathroom. Tony stares down at the substance keeping the door shut and his hand attached to it. “What the-“ “I want to join the Avengers.” Peter is ready to hit himself in the head. That question was way too direct and now he’s really done it. Tony laughs surprised. “Oh, bother. You’re Spider-Guy?” Peter’s eyes widen. The man hadn’t said no. “Spider-Man.” “Right.” “Wait, aren’t you fourteen?” Tony asks confused. Peter’s aware his physique as Spider-Man is wildly different from what he appears as in daily life. “And a half.” “Kid, if that really is you, you need to stop before you get in over your head, okay?” Tony wants to step towards him, but is held back by the webbing. “You think I’m lying?” Peter crosses his arms offended. “Well, no, but-“ The billionaire shakes his head at the substance and scoffs. “You’re putting yourself in danger when you shouldn’t.” “I’m not stopping.” “What- are you an adrenaline junkie? Please, don’t tell me you’re doing this because of me. It’s not worth it, I promise you.” Peter stares at the wet cap in his hands. “Not everything’s about you.” He wishes he swallowed those words, but Tony seemed to be self- aware enough, taking the comment somewhat gracefully. “Then what is it about?” “Half a year ago I got these… Powers.” Peter raises his hands up to look at them and sighs. “I’m stronger and faster… And I- well…” He trails off and pulls his face together in a frown. “When you can do the things that I can, but you don’t, and then the bad things happen? They happen because of you.” “As inspiring as that is, you shouldn’t be doing any of the stuff I’ve seen in those videos.” Tony’s pulls at his wrist and swears silently. “Jesus, what is this made of?” “You… Watched the videos?” “Yeah, kid, I did, now please get this stuff off me?” “Right! It usually dissolves after two to three hours, but I have a dissolver in…” Peter falls silent as he realizes that what he needs is locked away by security. “Kid,” Tony threatens. “My backpack.”

#kinkybeanlienanswers #kinkybeanlienwrites #starker #iron man #spiderman #spider-man #ironman #peter parker #tony stark #peter parker/tony stark #peter parker x tony s #tony stark/peter parker #tony stark x peter parker #peter/tony #peter x tony #tony/peter #tony x peter #ask #answered #twokinkybeans

[just-my-sickly-pride]

The Old College Try || Brian May x fem!Reader

PLEASE NOTE: THIS IS A RE-UPLOAD OF A FIC THAT I POSTED LAST YEAR TO A DIFFERENT BLOG. I DID NOT STEAL THIS; IT’S MINE. The version on my other blog has since been made private. Minor changes have been made.

summary || of all the new experiences you thought you’d have in your time at college, falling into an extended friends-with-benefits situation was not one of them - but you wouldn’t have changed it for the world. you and Brian had tried every kinky thing you could think of. except calling Brian ‘daddy’, of course, because, y’know, bleugh. you both thought the idea of that was gross. so gross. right? modern day au. college au.

rating || explicit. 18+ only. do not read if you are under eighteen. there’s a bit of what i’d like to call platonic fluff? but mostly smut. daddy kink, choking, some slight dom/sub dynamics, but not much.

word count || 6.9k. this was clearly written back when i actually used to write reasonably-sized fics.

author’s notes || i’m re-uploading this because i have a part two written and ready to be uploaded. i’m sorry the gif below is so big but it’s just too pretty!

masterlist

     If someone had told you that, within the first few months of starting university, you’d have made a new friend who would quickly become more than a friend, you’d have said that that someone had no idea what they were talking about. You weren’t interested in dating, at least not at this point in your life. You just wanted to focus on university, at least for the first year.

    If that someone had clarified what they’d meant by ‘more than a friend’, you would’ve been equally as confused.

    Well, maybe not that confused. You’d been attracted to Brian the second you’d first clapped eyes on him, when he’d asked if the seat next to you was taken in your second lecture of the day. In fact, after that first hour, you’d thought you’d probably develop a crush on him — but, surprisingly, you didn’t, even after the two of you became friends. Great friends, actually. You shared similar interests, and you could talk for hours about absolutely anything. He was good fun to argue with over silly, trivial things, like where the best place to keep ketchup was, or whether it was acceptable to drink wine out of a cup. And he was always open for late-night conversations about life and the universe. And you loved making him cringe. Your favourite way to do it was to say that his love of animals revealed he was actually a furry. Or saying that he had a foot fetish. You found it hilarious how easy he was to wind up. He did not.

    So yes, above all else, you were friends.

    You’d just added a little something extra to the mix along the way.

    You couldn’t remember how exactly the whole ‘with-benefits’ component to your friendship had started, but you could remember very clearly when: three months into uni, into being friends, and you’d both been at a mutual friend’s party. You’d both been drinking, and you’d been flirting, like you always seemed to be, and then, next thing you knew, you were making out. You’d spent the rest of the night making out, actually, and then Brian had come back to yours, where’d you’d made out even more, but with less clothing. You hadn’t slept together, but you’d fallen asleep in the same bed.

    And the next day, things had seemed… completely normal. Nothing had seemed to change between you two at all. It wasn’t as if either of you pretended the night before hadn’t happened, but more that it just didn’t need to be something really that worthy of note. It had happened, it had been fun, and that was all there was to it.

    The next time you two had gotten drunk — at your place, playing a dumb drinking game while watching Zootopia, of all things — the same thing had happened. Except, this time, you’d gone all the way. And it had been great. No awkwardness, no pressure to impress. The next day, again, the dynamic had remained the same.

    So, after a brief conversation to clarify things, you’d settled on friends-with-benefits.

    That had been two months ago. It wasn’t a secret, per se, but you weren’t exactly rushing to tell anyone. You actually had no idea how many people knew. 

    But what you did know was that, while neither of you had had a friends-with-benefits arrangement with anyone else before, you were both fucking good at it.

    It hadn’t taken long at all for things to become more adventurous in the bedroom. Every time the two of you slept together — which, given that you were both young adults who had needs, was fairly often — you were experimenting, trying out new things, almost in competition to see who was the kinkiest.

    Which was new, again, for both of you. You’d never thought of yourself as particularly kinky, and Brian had told you he’d never really considered anything more than just vanilla sex. But one day, during a lecture, you’d found yourself staring at his hands, and had wondered what they would feel like wrapped around your throat.

    As it turned out, it felt incredible. And so had been just about everything that had followed after it.

    You were staring at his hands now, as he fiddled with the lid of his water bottle. You were at lunch with your friends at uni, celebrating the end of a painful three-hour lecture, but you’d zoned out of the group conversation long ago.

    Brian’s hand drifted down the side of the water bottle lightly, deliberately slowly, and you could tell without even looking at his face that he’d caught you staring. His fingers glided back up the water bottle, and curled around the top of it, and you chewed on the inside of your cheek.

    Brian’s hand flexed around the water bottle, tightening, and you squeezed your thighs together. You shot a glance up to his face. He wasn’t looking at you, instead politely engaging in the conversation, but he had a small smile on his lips. He knew he was getting you hot under the collar with just the movements of his hands, and he was enjoying it immensely. You simultaneously hated that it was so easy for him to tease you, and loved that he enjoyed doing it.

    You sighed, sitting back. “I’m just going to the bathroom,” you said, completely cutting off whoever was talking; you didn’t care.

    You stood up, leaving your belongings there with your friends, and walked to the bathrooms. There were two sets of bathrooms: the food court ones that everyone used, and the much quieter ones that were in the building next door, down a corridor. There were no security cameras there, either. The bathrooms weren’t abandoned, exactly, but you could have about five to ten minutes of privacy if you were lucky.

    You leant against the wall of the corridor, tugging on the sleeves of your shirt, rubbing your hands together, bubbling with nervous energy.

    Brian rounded the corner an agonising two minutes later, and you said, “You’re a fucking menace,” before he grabbed your hips and pinned you against the wall, kissing you hungrily. You knew you had barely any time — not even a minute — before your friends started getting suspicious, so you made the most of it.

    Well, the most of the twenty or so seconds you were given. Someone exited the bathroom, and you and Brian sprung apart from each other, and you looked down at your hands, pressing your lips together to stop yourself from laughing. The guy who’d left the bathroom mumbled, “Sorry,” and hurried past you.

    You and Brian shared a glance, and then you started laughing. Brian covered his face with his hand, shaking his head. “I…” He sighed. “The number of times that we’ve gotten caught by strangers… And it never gets better. It’s always horribly awkward, every time.”

    “Maybe we should just stop making out at uni then,” you said.

    Brian lowered his hand, looking aghast. “That’s out of the question. What am I meant to do, wait till the end of the day?”

    “Maybe we should,” you said with a shrug. “Maybe we should stop making out basically every day. It might make things more… rewarding. Or at least interesting.”

    “I don’t think I could last an entire day,” Brian said. He rested his hand against your collarbones, applying just enough pressure to push you back into the wall, and his thumb moved to press against the front of your throat. Your lips parted instinctively. Brian’s eyes were on his hand — he’d told you that he liked how his hand looked against your skin — and your eyes were on his face. The concentration and heat in his gaze, coupled with the feeling of his hand, was enough to make you squirm with need.

    But now was not the time, nor the place.

    You sighed, letting your head fall back against the wall and your eyes slide closed. “Bri,” you said slowly, a warning.

    “Mm?” Brian said, his warm voice low.

    “We’re in public.” You opened your eyes, and lifted a hand, placing it on top of his, gently taking it away. “We have to go back.”

    Brian was tense, his jaw clenched, and you smiled. “Come on,” you said. You spoke lightly, but you knew that Brian would obey you.

    Brian breathed out sharply, and he turned away from you, rubbing his eyes with one hand. “Fuck, I want to fuck you so bad,” he growled. “Fuck.”

    You felt that all through your body, but you just took his wrist and went to leave, dragging him after you. He stayed stuck to the floor, his eyes boring into yours, and you could see the gears turning in his brain, knew he was seriously considering grabbing you and taking you into one of the bathrooms.

    You knew he wouldn’t. You both had limits, and actually fucking at uni was not on the table for either of you.

    But still. The fact that Brian seemed damn near overwhelmed with desire — desire for you — made you feel like the most powerful motherfucker on the planet.

    It also helped that you just tugged on his wrist again, just once, using barely any effort, and he became unstuck, following your direction without another word.

    “Maybe later I can dig out the old furry suit,” you said as you headed back to the food court, making your voice as sensual as possible.

    Brian snatched his wrist back as if in disgust, but you could tell he was trying not to laugh. “Jesus, you know how to kill the mood really fast.”

    “I don’t know what you mean,” you said, blinking at him innocently. “Don’t you want to see me in my suit? It’s a badger one. I got it made just for you. I thought you’d love it.”

    Brian shook his head. “I hate you so much.”

    “Maybe we can try something even better tonight,” you said, giving him a pouty, sexy look that you knew looked ridiculous. “Something new. What do you say, Daddy?”

    Brian’s step faltered, and the wildly taken-aback look on his face made you laugh. You skipped ahead, sliding back into your chair, and Brian joined you soon after.

      A week later, you and Brian were in your dorm, books and textbooks and pens and laptops strewn all over the living room floor as you tried to study. Brian was always much more studious than you were, so it helped to have him there to steer you back to your books when your focus strayed. Unfortunately, having him there served as the worst distraction you could’ve had.

    After about fifteen minutes of you mildly irritating him, flicking his pen as he tried to write, poking him in his side where he was most ticklish, making stupid noises at him and demanding some kind of response, he’d sent you to the kitchen to make a snack and get you both something to drink.

    You hummed to yourself as you waited for the popcorn to microwave, scrolling through Instagram on your phone. You came across a horrifically awful meme, and you laughed. “Hey, Bri,” you called. “Dude.”

    “What?” Brian replied from the living room.

    “Come look at this meme. It’s the worst thing I’ve ever seen.”

    “Just send it to me.”

    “No, come look at it.”

    You heard Brian sigh melodramatically, and soon he lumbered into the kitchen, stretching out the kinks in his muscles from sitting on the floor. “All right, show me.”

    You showed him your phone, and he looked at it for a second, then his eyes flicked to you, accompanied with the most intense are you shitting me expression you’d ever seen on another human being. “That’s horrendous.”

    You giggled. “I know.”

    “I can’t believe I walked all the way in here for that.”

    The microwave dinged, and you went to get the popcorn. You almost burnt your fingers, but you managed to get it out of the oven and peel it open.

    “Ouch,” you said as you grabbed a few pieces and tossed them into your mouth. “Bri, open up.”

    Brian opened his mouth, and you threw some popcorn at him, not aiming at all. It went all over him and the floor, and he sighed as you laughed. “God, you’re so fucking annoying,” he said, the corners of his mouth quirking up.

    You shimmied your shoulders. “I know,” you said happily, trotting past him. You paused in the kitchen doorway to shimmy again, this time adding your hips, wiggling your butt at him, and then continued to the living room with the popcorn, getting comfy on the floor.

    “You can’t just shake your arse at me,” Brian protested, following you. “That’s not fair.”

    “You called me annoying,” you said. “I can do what I want.”

    Brian groaned. “You’re so…” Before you knew it, he’d fallen to his knees beside you, snatched the popcorn bag from your hands, and captured your lips with his.

    You still got a thrill when you kissed him, even after two months. It felt naughty, in a way, like there was something taboo about it. Maybe it had something to do with the fact that everyone else you knew was getting into relationships, or wanting to get into relationships, and your arrangement with Brian was the antithesis of that. Maybe it was because you wasted so much time doing it, when you should’ve been studying, or working on an essay. Maybe it was because you’d never been so physically attracted to another human being before that there had to be something wrong with you, didn’t there?

    Brian kissed you deep, kisses that were slow and controlled and drove you insane. You tried to go for his jeans, but he straddled you and grabbed your wrists, pinning them to your sides. Every time you tried to take some of the power back, escalating things or speeding them up, Brian just didn’t rise to it, didn’t take the bait, and it was so frustrating you wanted to scream.

    Brian pulled back just enough to end the kiss. You tried to continue, but he ducked his head, as if to kiss your neck, so you let your head fall back, but he just pressed a single, infuriatingly light kiss to your pulse point.

    “Oh my God, I hate you,” you growled.

    “Oh, I’m annoying you, am I?” Brian said, beyond smug, and you wanted to kick him in the ribs.

    “You fucking… This is entirely different,” you said. “You—“

    Brian licked a stripe up your neck, and you felt the air leave your lungs like it had been sucked out with a vacuum.

    “You bitch,” you said, but it came out sounding breathless and needy.

    Brian chuckled, and you felt him bite your neck, softly, teasing.

    Your lust-addled brain was scrambling to find a way to get control of the situation, to not let Brian win, so you fell back on instinct: making Brian feel repulsed. “Are you imagining I’m a hedgehog? A sexy, spiky hedgehog?”

    It worked a treat. Brian recoiled, letting your wrists go, his nose screwing up. “Why? Why do you do that?”

    You leant into the bit, refusing to back down. “What about a fox?” you said, giving him a salacious smile, putting your hands on his chest. “Want me to put on National Geographic?”

    “You disgust me,” Brian said, sounding more tired and exhausted than anything else, and it delighted you.

    You leant forward, into him, smoothing your hands up his thighs, your lips hovering just over his. “What do you say, Daddy?”

    Brian went very still. He swallowed.

    You paused, confused by the lack of reaction, and pulled back. “What?”

    Brian’s face was red. “That was… uh. Um.”

    “Sorry,” you said. “Nickleback?”

    It was your safeword. Nothing kills the mood like Nickleback, Brian had said when he’d suggested it.

    “No,” Brian said stiffly. “Not Nickleback.”

    Wait. “Did you… Do you like me calling you Daddy?”

    Brian blinked, looking away, and he cleared his throat. “I— Well—“

    You took a moment to consider this, and then, taking it slow, so Brian had time to refuse if he wanted to, you kissed his neck just the way he liked, and he let out a breathy moan, one of his hands coming to twist itself into your hair.

    You slipped your hands under his shirt, your nails scratching up his back, and your kisses moved down his neck. You bit at the hollow of his throat, making him moan, and you murmured against his skin, “You gonna fuck me good, Daddy?”

    Brian let out a shaky breath. “Jesus Christ.”

    You broke out into a smile of victory — it was always a bonus to discover a new kink, whether it was yours or Brian’s — and Brian roughly pulled you away to tilt your head up towards him, and he kissed you so passionately it made your head spin.

    As if you weren’t wet enough, he let go of your hair to wrap his hand around your throat, and your stomach leapt with anticipation. He began applying pressure, and it felt so fucking good that you stopped kissing him, just feeling the way your body reacted, the way your veins fizzled with adrenaline as your fight-or-flight instincts kicked in, the way your airway opened to try to suck in as much air as it could, even though Brian wasn’t even restricting your airflow.

    When he let go, the effect on you was instantaneous. Nothing turned you on more than Brian choking you, and it never failed to send you in a kind of frenzy. You grabbed onto Brian, kissing him, biting him, shoving your hands up the back of his shirt and clawing your nails down his back, just as he liked it, and he responded in kind, gripping your hair.

    Brian broke the kiss, your foreheads pressing together, your eyes still closed.

    “How long do we have the place to ourselves?” Brian asked.

    “What’s the time?” you replied, blinking your eyes open.

    Brian’s grip tightened on your hair — he was irritated that he had to let go of you, and you loved it — and he leant back, craning his neck to look at the clock on the wall. “Five to five.”

    “It’s a Tuesday, so that means Lucy finishes later,” you said. “We have until about… ten past six.”

    “Good.” Brian swooped in to kiss you again, but only for a moment; he got to his feet, wincing as his knees cracked, making you laugh, and he took your hands and helped you to yours. You made your way to your bedroom, having to pause your journey every so often when either you or Brian got too handsy and you couldn’t resist making out again, but eventually you made it, and Brian wasted no time in throwing your shirt off.

    “I have to admit, I’m surprised,” you said as you easily slipped Brian’s shirt off him - you had to go on your toes to get it over his head - and dropped it to the floor.

    “What?” Brian said, his hands going to your belt. The conversation was put on hold as he ducked his head to kiss you, and you moaned into his mouth. You both managed to undo each other’s belts blindly, but you had to separate again when Brian struggled with the button on your jeans.

    “I didn’t know you that was a — thing, for you,” you continued, watching Brian’s fucking gorgeous fingers finally undo the button and yank down your fly. “Y’know. Being called Daddy.”

    “I…” It was Brian’s turn to watch you work on his button and fly. “Um, neither did I.”

    “I thought you—“ You finished your task and began shoving your jeans down your legs, and Brian did the same. “I mean, the other day, last week, whatever, when I called you Daddy, you looked, like, not at all happy. You made a face.”

    “That was not an unhappy face,” Brian said. “That was a— a ‘wow, I did not expect to like that’ face.”

    You laughed. “But we always make fun of people who say ‘Daddy’ unironically. Everyone jokes about it all the time. Especially Roger,” you added, “but you do too.”

    “Yeah, I know,” Brian said. “But the way you say it, I just…” He abandoned the thought to finish taking off his jeans.

    You bit your lip, watching him, waiting until he looked at you. When he did, you gave him a slow smile, basking in how transfixed he was by you, and you murmured, “Daddy.”

    Brian shuddered. “Yeah,” he said weakly. “Yeah, like that.” He hesitated. “Do you— It isn’t too weird for you, is it? You don’t have to—“

    “Dude,” you said, stepping over to him. “I wouldn’t say it if I wasn’t okay with it. Honestly, at this point, it would have to be something mind-blowingly weird for me to not be okay with it.” You cupped the front of his underwear and gave him a squeeze, and he clenched his jaw, his eyes dark on your face. “Whatever turns you on, baby,” you said with a wink.

    Brian gripped your hips, tugging you against him. “You turn me on,” he said. “Jesus, I— I’ve never met anyone who turns me on as much as you do.”

    “Really?” you said, your fingers and toes tingling with excitement.

    Brian nodded emphatically. “God, yes,” he said. “It never even occurred to me before you that I could just always be mildly turned on all the time just by being around another person. Especially not someone I’m, y’know, not romantically interested in. But the number of times I’ve thought about you when I’m—“ He cut himself off, glancing away, rubbing his jaw. “Um. Yeah. You… Yeah.”

    Your heart was galloping, and your thoughts were occupied only by the desire to get Brian naked. “What do you think about?” you whispered.

    You slipped your hand into Brian’s boxers, and curled your hand around him, jerking him off, not enough to frazzle his brain too much, but enough to get him interested.

    He still wouldn’t look at you, closing his eyes, making a sound in the back of his throat.

    “I bet it’s hot,” you said. “You think about fucking me hard? Making me scream like you always do? You’re so good at it. You always fuck me so good.”

    Brian’s breathing grew uneven, and his hand went back to your hip. He was holding onto you like it was the only thing keeping his knees from buckling.

    You kept your touch light, not changing the pace.

“Do you think about choking me?” you said. “Think about how hot it makes me? Think about how perfect your hand looks around my throat? Maybe how pretty I look when you tie me up and I’m all spread out for you. Maybe how fucked-out I look when you fuck my mouth. I know how much you love it. Do you think about that?”

    “Fuck,” Brian groaned.

    “Do you think about my nails down your back? How pretty and red your skin looks all scratched up? Maybe all the times I’ve sucked you off when our friends are in the room next to us, and you have to put a hand over your mouth to keep yourself quiet.” You tightened your grip just slightly, and Brian hissed, trying to buck forward into your hand, but you slipped your hand from his boxers, leaving him bucking into thin air, and he moaned.

    “Is that what you think about when you get yourself off?” you prompted.

    Brian nodded wordlessly, and went to kiss you, but you moved out of his reach. “You gonna use your words?” you teased.

    Brian moaned again. “God.” It almost came out in a whine of frustration, and you felt warmth run down your body all the way to your toes. “Yes,” Brian ground out, finally opening his eyes. He had such pretty eyes. Dark and bright. “Yes, fuck, I think about all of that. I think about you in every single— scenario you could imagine. Literally whatever you can think of, I’ve thought about it. Because you drive me mental. And none of it compares to the real thing, which I’m really fucking hoping we’ll get to within the hour, if you’ll stop fucking about.”

    You grinned. “You’re so patient with me,” you said. “I’ve trained you well.”

    “I’m getting increasingly less patient,” Brian muttered.

    You took one of his hands, bringing it to your face, slowly. You let his fingers rest against your lips. “I’m sorry,” you said, though you weren’t sorry at all.

    Brian’s eyes were focused on your mouth. Watching his face, loving how horny it made him, you opened your lips, sucking two of his fingers into your mouth.

    He moaned, biting his bottom lip. “You look fucking incredible doing that,” he murmured as you swirled your tongue around each finger. His other hand moved to your back, his fingers ghosting up and down your lower spine.

    You let his fingers slide out of your mouth to say, “I love doing it. I love your hands.” You ran your tongue up his fingers and drew them into your mouth again, feeling the texture of them.

    Brian’s other hand came to rest on your collarbones, his thumb against your throat. A promise. You felt excitement fizzle through you. “Good girl,” he said softly.

    You paused. You’d never heard that one before.

    “Sorry,” Brian said immediately. “I don’t know why I said that. That was too much.”

    You let the new words sink in. You liked it.

    You pulled off his fingers again. “I don’t think it was, Daddy,” you said.

    Brian’s mouth fell open. “Oh my God,” he breathed.

    “Unless you think it was,” you added quickly.

    Brian shook his head. “No,” he said. “It— it sort of… works, doesn’t it? With me calling you — when you’re calling me…”

    “Call me that again,” you suggested. “We can always veto it at any point.”

    “That’s true,” Brian said. “I’m— It feels a bit weird calling you that, like, right now, so I’m just going to— I’ll wait.”

    You nodded. “Okay. But I liked it, I think.” Brian’s fingers still rested against your mouth, and it was nice, in a strange way, to have them there. “It was hot, y’know, in the moment.”

    “Good,” Brian said. “Otherwise that could’ve been—“

    “Awkward, yeah,” you said with a laugh. You kissed his fingertips. “So, you gonna choke me, or…?”

    Brian snorted a laugh. “You’re not exactly delicate, are you?”

    “Never have been,” you said happily. You took his wrists, guiding his hands away, and leant in to kiss him.

    You ended up on the bed somehow, with Brian kissing you while he held your wrists down above your head. If you’d had more time, you would’ve used the scarves that you kept in your closet for just this purpose — you hated wearing them, so you were glad that they were useful for something — but time was ticking, and both of you were anxious to move things along.

    Brian had to let go of your wrists to move further down your body, tearing off your bra and giving your boobs the love they deserved.

    You made a soft sound of pleasure, scratching your nails up and down Brian’s back where you could reach, and along his shoulders, and Brian tensed at the sharp pain of it, but you knew it wasn’t too much. You’d only ever had to stop when you’d almost made him bleed, and even then it had been you who’d noticed it, not him.

    Brian went to move further down your body, but you tugged him back up, shaking your head.

    “No?” Brian said.

    “Choke me,” you said.

    Brian nodded eagerly. “Yeah, of course.”

    “Choke me, Daddy,” you added with a laugh.

    “That is funny,” Brian said, “but also, please say that in your sex voice.”

    You quirked your eyebrows at him, and then grabbed his hand, pressing it against your throat. “Please choke me, Daddy.”

    Brian sat up and leant over you, then applied pressure on your throat, and your eyes slid closed, your head tilting back. “Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah, Daddy, just like that. Feels so good.”

    “Fuck,” Brian muttered. His grip tightened, and you whined.

    Your mind went quiet, focusing only on the feeling of Brian’s hand around your throat. You couldn’t have thought about anything else if you’d tried.

    Brian released his grip, and you felt your heart jump.

    Your eyes opened. Brian was watching you with an expression you knew well, his cock pressed against his stomach, leaking pre-come. He looked delicious.

    His hand stayed where it was.

    “More?” he said.

    You nodded. “Please, Daddy.”

    “God, that’s so fucking hot,” Brian said, and did as you asked.

    He kept his grip tight on your throat for so long that your body’s instincts really kicked in, giving you a surge of adrenaline that, in any other situation, would have made you panic. But not right now. Right now, it did something very different.

    “Good girl,” you heard Brian say, and you whimpered.

    He let you go, and you gasped, almost trembling with need. “Fuck me,” you demanded. “Fuck me literally right now, dude, I’m not even joking.”

    Brian chuckled. “Choking you always works. Every time.”

    “Yeah, because it’s really hot,” you said bluntly. “I’m like a waterfall down there right now. Get your dick in me. God.”

    Brian laughed, and you batted his hand away to sit up, grabbing onto him and kissing him. You fell back onto the bed, Brian coming with you.

    He was laughing against your lips, but you didn’t care. You did care, however, when you felt his fingers nudging at your entrance, and you nodded. He pushed a finger into you, and you spread your legs, making a muffled sound of frustration.

    Brian pulled back. “What?”

    “Hurry up,” you said. “Get those fingers up in there.”

    You didn’t exactly help speed things up; you kept distracting Brian, nipping at his lip and neck, raking your nails up his back, taking his cock in your hand and jerking him off.

    By the time you assured him that you were ready, you were both sweaty, breathless messes, and Brian’s hands shook with adrenaline so badly that he dropped the condom as he was trying to open the packet.

    You, again, weren’t helping.

    “Come on,” you whined, kneeling behind him, pushing his hair aside to kiss his neck, your hand curling around his front and squeezing the base of his cock.

    ”I’m trying,” he said. “It’s a little difficult when you’re— Got it.” As he rolled the condom onto himself, you moved your lips to his ear, kissing the bone behind it.

    “You gonna fuck me good, Daddy?” you murmured. “I’m so ready for you. So wet for you, Daddy. All for you.”

    He shuddered, a full-body shiver that made you grin.

    “Done,” he blurted, and turned around to shove you onto your back.

    You laughed, bouncing as you hit the bed, and Brian pounced on you, kissing you deeply. He took a brief pause to lube himself up, and he pushed into you soon after; although the burn was familiar, you still took a few moments to adjust the further he sank into you.

    You threw your legs around his hips, and he began thrusting into you, and you wondered how the hell you’d gone your whole life up until a few months ago without him fucking you.

    Soon, he panted into your ear, “Can I choke you?”

    “Yes, fuck yes,” you said, and he paused, getting to the right position, making sure he could keep balanced, and then he was fucking you again. One hand came to press on your throat, and your eyes slid closed.

    You’d come just from this before — Brian fucking you nice and deep while he cut off the blood supply to your brain. It didn’t happen all that often, and neither of you ever expected it to happen, but once or twice it had.

    You could feel yourself teetering on the edge now, very nearly almost there, but you knew you’d need more.

    Brian let your throat go, and you made a sound that was halfway between a moan and a gasp, and then his fingers were at your clit, and he said, “Good girl, Jesus Christ,” and no one was more shocked than you when you came unexpectedly.

    Brian’s hips shunted forward at the feeling of you pulsing around him, and he moaned, and you were panting like you’d run a marathon, jerking from the aftershocks of your orgasm.

    There was a moment of confused silence. You weren’t sure if you should be embarrassed or not.

    “Did you just come?” Brian said, his voice pitched high in surprise.

    You nodded. “Yeah,” you said breathlessly, pressing your palm to your forehead, staring at the ceiling. “Oh, God.”

    “I thought I was going to finish soon,” Brian said with a laugh.

    “That was… wow,” you said. “Okay. All right. I didn’t even realise I was that close.”

    Brian hummed, and leant down to kiss the hollow of your throat. “It was sort of hot,” he said. “If I’m being honest.”

    “Yeah?” you said.

    “Mm.” Brian’s tongue brushed over where his lips had been, and your shoulders tensed, a light giggle slipping from you.

    “Stop it, I’m ticklish there,” you said.

    Brian kissed further up your neck. “Am I all right to keep going?” he said in between kisses. “You’re not too sensitive?”

    “If you can make me come again before you’ve finished, I’ll buy you your groceries for the next two weeks,” you said.

    Brian paused, then lifted his head. “My groceries, or my household’s groceries?”

    You thought about it. “Just yours. I’m not made of money. And it would be a little suss if all of a sudden I was forking over, like, all of my savings to pay for a fortnight’s worth of food for four guys. You’d send me broke.”

    “I don’t think you’re going to have to worry about it too much,” Brian said. “I was pretty close already.”

    “Fine,” you said. “Two weeks’ worth of food. For the entire gang. If I come again before you do.”

    Brian laughed, shaking his head. “Yeah, all right. Already prepared to lose this one.” He kissed you, and you rolled your hips up to his, and he picked up where he left off.

    You spent the next couple of minutes floating in that grey area of arousal, feeling turned on beyond belief, but knowing that you weren’t going to come. It didn’t matter, though, because you were more than happy where you were, and you also knew that you wouldn’t have to pay for a shit-ton of groceries.

    Towards the end, though, you felt the beginnings of something within you, and, okay, maybe you did really want to come again.

    You could tell Brian was close, and you urged him to go faster, harder. “You’re fucking me so good, Daddy, yes,” you panted.

    Brian groaned. “I’m…”

    You clenched around him, and his rhythm stuttered. “Come on, Bri,” you murmured. “You’re so close, I can feel it. Come on. Daddy. Daddy, please.”

    Brian cried out as he came. You grinned, and let Brian take a moment before you rolled both of you over, so you were straddling him. His arms flopped out to the sides, and you laughed.

    Your second orgasm was just out of reach, an itch you wanted to scratch, but it was easy enough to ignore, for now.

    Brian ran his fingertips over your thighs, looking beautifully dishevelled. “How are you?” he said. “Do you need me to—“

    “No,” you said. “No, I’m good.”

    Brian squinted at you. “Are you lying?”

    “No,” you said. “You don’t have to do anything. I’m fine.”

    Brian sighed. “Right. All right.” He sat up and helped you dismount, then discarded his condom in the bin across the room. He climbed back on the bed and shoved your legs apart.

    You gave him a quizzical look. “What are you doing?”

    “Eating you out,” Brian said, like it was obvious.

    “You don’t have to,” you said, unconvincingly.

    “If you don’t want me to, I won’t,” Brian said.

    “Well, do you want to?” you said.

    “I always want to,” Brian said.

    “You don’t even want to take a break first?”

    “How many times do I have to tell you,” Brian said, getting comfortable and kissing the inside of your thigh. “I’m not done until you’re done.” He kissed your thigh again, much further up. “And are you done?”

    You debated your response.

    Brian’s kiss moved even further up. “You going to be a good girl for me?” he murmured, looking up at you with those dark eyes, and you felt your stomach jolt with arousal.

    “Not done,” you blurted, shaking your head. “I’m not done.”

    Brian huffed a laugh, and you let your head fall back.

    This — Brian eating you out — was something, amongst other things, that the two of you had perfected down to a T. Usually it wasn’t something that happened straight after sex, but you’d done it before. And anyway, you were both very adaptable when it came to sex. Specifically, sex with each other.

    Brian could just about slide three fingers into you without any further preamble, and his tongue really was something divine. You curled your hand into his hair, giving him murmurs of encouragement, you breath catching whenever he got just the right angle, just the right pressure.

    It didn’t take long. You felt it building and building within you, and you breathed, “So close, yes, that’s it.” Brian knew exactly what to do, exactly how fast to go, and then your back was arching, and you came with a gasp and a cry.

    Brian peppered kisses to your stomach, and you pushed at his shoulder. “I’m fucking ticklish, dude, stop it,” you said, squirming, and Brian crawled over you, landing heavily beside you on the bed.

    “Done?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

    You reached over and wiped off his face with your hand. “Yep,” you said. “Thanks, Daddy.”

    You’d said it just to make him uncomfortable, and it worked a treat. Brian made a face. “Eugh. Not like that. Sounds weird if you say it like that.”

    “Like what?” you said, feigning ignorance.

    “Like I’m actually your dad and I’ve just, I don’t know, dropped you off at school.”

    “What if I called you just ‘Dad’?”

    “I would never speak to you again. And immediately get a restraining order.”

    You laughed. “What about—“

    “I’m going to stop you right there,” Brian said. “Before I regret ever telling you anything in the first place.”

    You shuffled onto your front, letting your arm fall across Brian’s waist. “Can we just skip the lecture tomorrow?” you grumbled. “Let’s just stay here and have sex.”

    “That’s a very appealing suggestion,” Brian said, “but I don’t think our future selves would be all that pleased when we don’t know anything for the exam.”

    “We never know anything for the exam,” you said. “Everyone always has to teach themselves everything anyway.”

    “Well, be my guest, if you want to stay home,” Brian said. “But I’ll be going.”

    “Maybe I’ll just sleep with someone who’s available, then,” you said.

    “Feel free.”

    “Maybe Rog.”

    Brian made a face. “Gross.”

    You grinned. “In your bed.”

    “All right, no, I know for a fact that Rog would never have sex in my bed. That’s crossing a line.”

    “Would you have sex in his bed?”

    Brian thought it over. “Maybe. If it was you, then maybe.”

    You raised your eyebrows. “Oh?”

    “That wasn’t a challenge,” Brian said. “I don’t want to have sex in Roger’s bed. I’m just saying, if there were no other options—“

    “We’re definitely going to have sex in Roger’s bed,” you said with a grin.

    Brian groaned. “No.”

    “Okay, I’ll just have sex with Roger, then.”

    “No!” Brian groaned even more loudly. “Then he’ll never shut up about it.” He paused, and then said, “Actually, he makes a lot of Daddy jokes. I’m curious now - do you think you could do some recon and figure out if he’s into it, too? I bet he is, the hypocrite. If you could, it would bring me so much joy. I’d be eternally grateful.”

    You laughed. “We’ll have to see about that one.” You sat up, and climbed off the bed. “I’m going to shower. You can join me if you like, but you don’t have to.”

    “I’ll shower after,” Brian said. “We always end up wasting water when we shower together. Which completely defeats the purpose of showering together.”

    You shrugged. “Up to you,” you said lightly, heading to the bedroom door.

    You hadn’t even opened the door when Brian blurted, “Okay, fine, I’m coming.”

    You shot him a smile over your shoulder. “I wasn’t even trying to change your mind.”

    “I think you were,” Brian said, as the two of you headed to the bathroom.

    “I don’t think I was.”

    “Hm, I think you were.”

    You rolled your eyes at him. “You’re so annoying.”

    Brian laughed. “Ah, how the tables have turned!”

    “Shut up,” you said. You swatted his hip. “Get in the shower.”

    After the shower, you both got dressed and went back to studying. The popcorn was cold, and your roommate Lucy complained about the mess on the kitchen floor when she got home.

    Nothing had changed, and it was perfect.

#brian may x reader #queen fanfiction #smut #rpf #mine #try verse

[jessyblanche]

My first semester as a first year physio student!

In my first semester, I was introduced to Pathophysiology, Research and Study Skills and the Anatomy of the Lower Quadrant. Overall, I loved the content of the subjects and found them very interesting. All the actual ‘physio stuff’ - maybe not Research and Study Skills so much… But, the two come hand in hand. 

In pathophysiology, the lesson was conducted under a Problem Based Learning approach. So we were given a patient trigger, which we had to identify key terms, questions we had, links and produce a mind map. From this, we put together some learning objectives to go away and practice some self study. I have to say; for me personally; meeting the group for the first time ever, and having to work in a group to do all of this, during COVID-19, was pretty tough. I suppose because you can’t really get to know anyone properly. It was sort of like a chair meeting, but everyone facing forward, 2 metres apart and not looking at each other. As you can imagine, it was quite stinted. However, as the weeks went on, it got easier.  

We completed a few weeks on Cardiorespiratory, MSK and Neurology. It was a nice little introduction to be honest, as I’m not sure what I would like to specialise in yet! I think I was most interested in Neurology, although, when I started the course I actually thought I would be most interested in MSK. We’ll see anyway, still got a long way to go yet! 

We were then examined at home - (because of the COVID mess) - by undertaking a 50 question MCQ test. It was difficult, but I passed. In reflection, I think next term I will have to balance my revision better as I did focus a bit more on Anatomy this term. 

For Anatomy, we were introduced to the upper quadrant. We had to use each other for models which meant no social distancing, however, full PPE was provided by the uni. I remember in the first lesson, we started palpating the spinous processes of the thoracic spine and I said to my lecturer I couldn’t feel anything. He said to me “we’re going to have some problems then because it’s probably one of the easiest parts to palpate.” It makes me laugh actually because it’s so true. Obviously, I’ve over come that hurdle now! 

Anatomy blew my mind. We had to know planes, axis, bones, joints, articulations, muscles, ligaments etc etc etc etc!!!!!!! It was so hard. I think as well, because I’ve never really done anything like this before, working with people so closely, that was a bit of a barrier for me. I did feel awkward to begin with, poking and prodding the body parts of a stranger. It didn’t take long to get over that though. 

For the assessment, it was a practical viva voce. We knew that we were going to be given the Thoracic or Cervical spine, and then either the shoulder girdle, the glenohumeral joint, the elbow, the forearm and the wrist or the hand. I got given the Thoracic spine and the shoulder girdle. 

To reflect, next term when we study the anatomy of the upper quadrant, I feel like it will be slightly easier for me as now I have done this once before, I’ll know what to expect and I’ll know what I need to know for the viva!

My first semester was completely different to how I expected it. Firstly, a lot of it is based online now due to COVID. So no big lecture halls you see in the movies. Secondly, I did not expect how many hours of reading, self directed study and revision I would have to do. At the start, I was just cruising, a couple of hours a week here and there. Well, that didn’t last long. Before I knew it, I was probably putting in around 4/5 hours A DAY, 5 days a week. And actually, I still feel like I’ll need to put in more next term! It’s all a learning curve anyway. But overall, I have loved the start of this journey and it definitely feels like the right course for me. But for now, I’m going to enjoy Christmas and back to the grind in the new year! 

#university #physiostudent #physiotherapy #unilife #anatomy #pathophysiology #studyblr #physicaltherapy #studentlife

[isitkpop]

Tear Down

Member: The Boyz Kevin

Female Reader

WARNING: Mentions of violence and a few broken bones. A little bit of curing.

Prompt Used and Credit: Prompt #1037 - “Why? Why are you doing this?”

The villain only shrugged. “When I was five, I told my mother I wanted to be king of the world, and she told me I couldn’t amount to anything, let alone rule. It’s incredibly satisfying to spite bad parents.”

Credit: @promptsforthestrugglingauthor

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

The genius, Moon Hyungseo. Always top of his class, on time, precise, never failed to put a smile on people’s faces whenever he greeted them a good morning, or a simple hello. He’s a good student at his Uni and nobody dares to upset that reputation. He was too good for this world that he puts the biggest number one hero to shame. Nothing could tear down his domain of resolve. However.

He clicked his tongue in frustration as he stared at the newspaper headlines. ‘Supervillain Kevin crushed again by our number one hero Griffin!’ He wanted to crumple it and chuck the damn thing out of the library window. But he remembered his current injury in his side. He felt the wrappings were loose. So, he threw the paper back to the middle of the table and quickly headed to the single restroom so that he could be alone. He was in a lot of pain. He went up to the mirror and took off his blazer to lift his under shirt. “Dammit.” The wrappings were starting to lose their grip. He gently unwrapped his bandages to reveal the damage of a large bruise on his side from the broken rib.

He carefully wrapped himself back up and took in a deep breath and continue his day. He had a shit ton of studying to do when he get’s back to the apartment and he does not want to stall that any longer than he already has. His tracks and thought process was soon stopped by a woman tripping in front of him and practically face planting the concrete.

He wanted to snicker, but he knew that, that had to hurt a lot. He watched as she sat up and held her knee and shin. She looked around until she caught his eyes staring at her. “Y-You saw that?” He could only nod. He knew her. They had a couple of classes together last semester. She’s known to be quite clumsy. “Well? Could you help me up? My leg hurts a lot.”

This was not his forte, but he should humor the woman a little bit. He placed his bag down and walked over and held his hand out. “How did a trip like that hurt your whole leg?”

She grabbed his hand and he helped pull her up. “U-Uh, I tripped up the front stairs yesterday and hit my shin on the edge on the stair as I fell.”

He knew she was lying. It came with the many other powers he attains. But he won’t question. “That must have hurt a lot. I hate it when that happens.” He helped steady her. “Better? Do you think you can walk home?”

“Oh! No thanks. It’s just that building behind you. Thanks for helping me out. Bye!” He watched her walk a little bit just fine, with a little limp, but she was managing.

Studying was indeed a pain.

The next day, his wound healed perfectly fine. He tested his arm movements and did a few side-stretches to test the healed wound and felt no strain at all. He checked his calendar on his phone. Today was Saturday. Been a few days since then. Maybe a little trouble won’t hurt. He grabbed his duffle by the door and headed out.

Griffin was out on patrol at this hour of the day. He knew she would appear near him soon. He smirked to himself. Last time he fought her; he found a weakness. A vital one at that. He dug around in his duffle and pulled out the bracelet he crafted after the hell of studying he did. The black band of metal forged with a darkness only he could muster up. Something that could deplenish her and deem her useless.

The crowd gathering could only mean that she was near and everybody was just trying to catch a glimpse of the almighty Griffin. Damn fire breather. Time to learn a lesson about kicking people in their sides. About time I win this. He placed the bracelet in the pouch hooked on his side and proceeded through the crowd to find the hot head in the middle. Showing the kids a few fire tricks, she was able to do for entertainment.

Kevin scowled. He focused a little bit of power in his legs and hoped over the crowd to land in the middle with a perfect landing. “Hello~ Griffin.” He smirked when she quickly moved herself to shield the kids. He held up his hands. “Come now. I’m not that low to hurt kids. I’m actually here for you.”

“Why’s that? Want another broken rib?” She knew how to get under his skin.

But he too gave her a fair share of injuries. “How is that thigh of yours doing? Your whole leg should have been hurting when I punched you.”

“Why are you here for me?”

“Ah. Just wanted to play a little.”

She wasted no time to listen to his excuse and charged with all she could. Fire at her feet and flame coating her knuckles, ready to punch the lights out of him, but he knew this move all too well. He quickly sidestepped out of the way and with a dark energy blast to her side and she was blasted into the side of a building. He figured out her pattern during their last few fights and knew how to counter this time. He approached her faltering form. “You can’t do that with me anymore. I figured you out.” He squatted in front of her. “Now,” He pulled the bracelet out and held it in front of her face. “a little gift from me to you.” He gripped her wrist and pulled her arm towards him to slip the bracelet on.

The purple glow started to grow from the bracelet onto her whole body and she groaned as the bracelet sucked out her power. “W-what is this? What did you do to me?”

“This little guy is depleting your power from you. You won’t be able to use your powers anymore. You also can’t take the bracelet off now.”

“Why? Why are you doing this?”

Kevin stood up and stared down at the powerless hero. “When I was five, I told my mother I wanted to be king of the world, and she told me I couldn’t amount to anything, let alone rule.” Kevin chuckled and smirked down at Griffin. “It’s incredibly satisfying to spite bad parents.”

He watched as the useless hero tried to stand up but crumbled at his feet. “The w-world is not yours to rule.” He rose a brow as he watched her struggle to stand again. Managing to at lest prop a knee up. “The world,” He started to sweat as he watched her slowly test her weight on her one leg. “belongs to the people.” She was standing tall now and his resolve was tumbling down.

Griffin gripped her mask and tore the material off to reveal her face to him. His eyes widened. It was Y/n. The clumsy woman who was always tripping over everything. The woman who was average at school. The one who he held a crush on since last year. The one her hurt so many times.

The one who he took the powers away and was about to finish her off.

He gripped his chest as his heart started racing and aching at the same time. This was too much to take in. His own mask started to make him feel so suffocated. But he will never show his face to her. The bracelet on her wrist was ugly on her. He felt disgusted.

“You will never take it. I won’t allow it!” She screamed into the air. Steam coming from her skin as the air heated up around her. She made the steam blast out and knocked him back off his feet. He tried to stand back up, but she was too quick for him. The punch to the face was boiling hot and knocked him right into a car, knocking the breath out of him and caused him to fall to the ground heaving. He couldn’t stand.

He felt her energy and saw her looming over him the bracelet all cracked and not glowing anymore.  She grabbed him by his top and pulled him up to her face and she unmasked him and threw the cover over her shoulder. She stared into his eyes for a second before they widened, and he was suddenly dropped. “Moon Hyungseo?”

He chocked and took in a deep breath. “Y-Yeah.” His face stung and his lungs ached. He felt like a subway train was dropped on him. Black dots were started to appear in his vision. “You did quit a number on me Y/n. Did I make you angry?” He tried to laugh but started to have a coughing fit instead.

He looked up at her and saw confusion and sadness. “Why? Hyungseo, why? You are the top student! The man everybody loves. Why are you like this?” He watched her fall to her knees. “I hated Kevin! How could you?” He watched as tears started to well up. “Hyungseo. I liked you. How could you do something like this? Is there somebody else? There has to be somebody brain-washing you.”

Hyungseo dragged himself closer to her and cupped her cheek with his good hand and wiped a stray tear. “No. There’s nobody else. It’s just me. I’m sorry. I hurt you so much Y/n. You shouldn’t cry for someone like me. Please, be strong for this city. No. For this world.”

The sirens were getting closer. He had to get out of there. He picked himself up begrudgingly. “Wait. No! I have many questions!”

He shook his head at her. Taking one last look at Y/n before he must go into hiding for a while. He has a lot of thinking to do. “Take care of yourself, Griffin. I’ll see you again.” He used all the power he could to vanish himself to safety.

He crumbled at the top of the skyscraper and hissed at the major aches going on all over him. “This will take a while to heal.” He looked up at the blue sky and took a little time to feel the breeze and focus on the major injuries to instantly heal those and let the smaller nonthreatening ones heal on their own. He sighed as he stood up and grabbed his duffle bag. “Guess I have to turn myself in now.”

He thought about Y/n in her Griffin costume. He had to admit, she was hot in that outfit now that he knows it’s her. He snickered at his own little unintentional joke. He looked at his almost tattered costume. He laughed. “You ruined my favorite one.” He thought about it and chuckled to himself. “Turning myself in will have to wait. I have unfinished business with Miss. Griffin now.”

#kevin #hyungseo #the boyz kevin #the boyz hyungseo #kevin fluff #kevin angst #hyungseo fluff #hyungseo angst #the boyz fluff #the boyz angst #the boyz #kevin scenario #hyungseo scenario #the boyz scenario #kevin imagine #hyungseo imagine #the boyz imagine

[petersshirts]

Missed Calls | tom holland

pairing: tom holland x reader

summary: a relationship is never easy when your partner is on the other side of the world

warnings: angst, but mostly fluff!

words: a short sweet 1,7 k

A/N: just a little thing I wrote with a lot on my mind, but I hope you like this and I would love some feedback, love you x

„Not again.“ you sighed and turned your phone off to ignore that you couldn’t reach Tom again when trying to call him for the third time today.

You and Tom were dating for three months now and everything had been great until he had to leave to film his new movie in the U.S. You had always known that he would be gone for a few months a couple times in the year, but that didn’t mean it was easier.

The only thing you could think about was him. If he slept enough and ate his favourite breakfast and if they had a great day shooting. You couldn’t concentrate on studying for Uni when he didn’t send you a text that day and it was even harder when you sat in a lecture and he sent you photos from him or his friends.

But that wasn’t the worst thing - it had only been three weeks since he left and there was still more than a month to go until you could visit him for two weeks before you had t get back to Uni. You would have never thought that you could think this much about a person, but with Tom, it was horrible if you couldn’t talk everyday.

But with him being on set all day and different time zones, it was hard to find the right time to FaceTime or just hear each others’ voices for a few minutes. And even though the two of you really tried to keep in touch, it felt like he was on another planet. But you also didn’t want to give up - you loved Tom with all your heart, even though you hadn’t told him yet.

You didn’t want to tell him your feelings over the phone, but it was also hard to resist the urge to not tell him when you heard his sleepy voice through the phone. You wanted to tell him in person, but it was still such a long time until you could finally look him in the eyes again.

You threw your phone onto the couch and walked back to your room to continue studying. If you couldn’t reach your boyfriend, you might as well be a little productive. But as soon as you sat down and tried to focus on your notes, doubts about your relationship started filling your head.

Maybe Tom was just sick of you and your endless calling, so he just blocked you? Or he had found somebody else that was an actor like him? You shook your head and stared at the words in front of you, trying to concentrate on the things you needed to do. But you were distracted al over again when you heard your phone buzz in the living room, indicating that someone was calling you.

You jumped up and rushed to your phone, a smile settling on your lips when you saw that Tom was the caller. „Hello?“ You jumped down onto the sofa, completely forgetting about the doubts you had a few minutes ago.

„Hello love, I’m so sorry I didn’t answer your call. My alarm didn’t went off.“ Toms’ voice was raspy and sounded like he just woke up, eyes barely open. You could only smile and imagine he was right next to you, head in your lap and just cuddling. Oh, how much you missed him.

„Don’t worry about it, T. You need all the sleep you can get.“ „Hm, I think it’s better to talk to you than sleeping.“ You could hear his smile in his voice, causing your stomach to churn. Every time you had to say good-bye all over again, it just got worse. „You’re really charming, you know that Holland?“

„Only for you. Oh by the way, I ordered something to your house a few days back and they just send me a mail that the package is coming today.“ You raised an eyebrow, confused about why he would send something to your home instead of his parents’ house. And why did he even order something, knowing that he would be back home in a month?

But you ignored your own questions and just answered with a: „Alright, I’ll be home all day to take it. How was dinner with the crew last night?“ But instead of an answer, you only had murmurs on the other side of the line and a thank you from Tom towards someone else. Who was he even talking to this early in the morning?

„Uh, sorry love, what did you say?“ Tom didn’t even mention the other voice you just heard so you tried to ignore it too. You were sure that it was just work and nothing else. But before you could say anything else, the doorbell rang and you jumped up, assuming that it would be the parcel Tom talked about.

But when you opened the door and looked into those familiar brown-eyes you missed a lot, it felt like the world cam crashing down on you. Your phone fell to the ground and you just stared at the man that you just couldn’t stop thinking about.

Tom just smiled at you, his heart beating a million times a minute. He had been anticipating this moment for two weeks now and your reaction was definitely worth it, even though you haven’t moved for the last two minutes.

Slowly, you started to realise what was going on and in an instant, you were in his arms, hugging him close. Tears started rolling down your cheeks and you sobbed into his neck, trying to understand what was going on. That Tom was here, with you and not in America where he should be.

You backed away to see his face again, but Tom moved forward and finally, his lips were back on yours. Tom groaned at the contact, finally feeling like he was home. He grabbed your waist and pulled you closer, a small whimper leaving your lips.

You kissed for a few minutes until air started to run out and you slowly pulled out to look back into those brown eyes you loved so much. Tom just grinned, happy that the surprise had worked. „W-what are you doing here?? I thought you were still shooting for a few weeks!“ You grabbed his hand and pulled him into the apartment, the door closing behind the two of you.

„We’re not done yet, but I got a week off and I decided to get home to you - I needed to see you.“ The two of you sat down on the couch but you refused to let go of his hands, still trying to accept the fact that he was really here. That you could stop thinking about all the bad things that could happen because Tom was right in front of you and his smile was so big, it might hurt.

You just looked at him for a few seconds, trying to gather the courage to say the words you had practiced to say out loud for the last few weeks. „T-tom I need to tell you something.“ Tom raised an eyebrow and suddenly, he looked a lot more worried than happy.

He tugged at your waist to get you closer, his eyes wandering over your face, trying to find out what was wrong. „What’s going on?“ A smile crept on your lips, knowing that Tom didn’t need to worry. Because you were not going anywhere.

„I love you.“ The words stumbled out of your mouth and Toms’ eyes immediately widened, leaving you in an uncomfortable silence. Oh god why did you think that this would be a great idea? Your brain started to go into panic mode and you jumped up, ready to disappear into bed and just ignore what just happened.

But before you could flee, Tom grabbed your wrist and you looked back at him, just to see him grin at you. „R-really?“ You just nodded, standing still and just looking at the man you adored. Suddenly, Tom jumped up and littered your face with kisses, a giggle leaving your throat in the process.

„I love you too, Y/N. So much.“ Tom grinned at you, a content look in his eyes. You just stared at him, trying to find any more words to say. You were completely overwhelmed - first because he just stood in front of your door and second because you finally admitted the feeling you had been hiding for a long time.

You just moved forward and kissed Tom, trying to put all your feelings into that kiss. It felt like everything was just falling into place for once and you could let go of all your worries. Tom loved you and it felt even better than the fact that he came home just to see you.

The kiss lasted even longer than the last one and when you finally pulled away, the two of you just stared at each other, dopey grins on your lips. You couldn’t be happier.

For the rest of the afternoon, you just laid down on the couch and cuddled while Netflix was playing in the background. But you only had eyes for Tom - his brown curls that were even longer than before, his long eyelashes and the smile that never left his lips. Your stomach was filled with butterflies and you just couldn’t believe that all your pleas for him to come home had been answered.

For one week, you had him here with you, all to yourself. You snuggled your head into his neck, surrounded by the scent you had missed so much. And after this week, you wouldn’t be sad anymore. Because this was not a goodbye. This week was a sign that the two of you were meant to be together, even if you were thousands of miles apart. And at that moment you swore that you would never give up on this love because missed calls or not, Tom was worth it.

As always, feedback is greatly appreciated!

Permanent Taglist and mutuals:

@smexylemony // @ive-got-more-wit // @lou-la-lou // @loxbbg // @seanna313 // @underoos-shield // @hollandfieldblurbs // @supernatural-strangerthings-1980 // @ixchel-9275 // @thejourneyneverendsx // @sideeffectsofyou // @teenwolfbitches2 // @mywinterwolf // @alex--awesome--22 // @wronglanemendes // @keithseabrook27 // @tomshufflepuff // @awkwardfangirl2014 // @embrace-themagic // @ophcelia // @nedthegay 

@peterpumpkinparker  // @underoos-shield // @twilightparker // @h-osterfield  // @holland-peters // @fratboievans //  @spiderrrling // @hufflebucky // @hollandroos // @naturallytom // @starksparker

#TOM #tom holland #tom stanley holland #tom holland imagines #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fluff #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland fic #petersshirts

[woodesmusic]

hliw

eve of recording the vocals for my next single & i can’t sleep 

so i’m writing it out, mostly with my left hand (and limited apostrophes because that is RHs job)

a spider bit me on my right hand and my wrist swelled up and the antibiotics didn’t work. similar thing happened to me when i was 16 with a centipede, and i was hospitalised for 2.5 weeks. But so far, i’m good. 

so yes, the spider. that’s happened this week. 

i had an operation and now i have a hole in my wrist. They took out all the bad under the surface and now i have a little cave. Right down. maybe a centimetre. it was like opening a door you arent meant to open

or a curtain at the theatre 

the backstage. 

it hurt a lot, the operation. But i’m ok! and the infection didn’t get into my wrist. A very good thing. the fridge broke also. maybe it saw my right hand and broke in solidarity. so i tell you this because the living room is quiet, no hum. it’s getting fixed tomorrow maybe.. the landlord says, but our perishables have began to live up to their name.. or die to their name... Tonight alex and i both made super meals out of all the left overs and ate all of them. we both essentially ate 4 servings of food. I think he almost put a full bag of cheese on his nachos. He has a flu so i told him hello enjoy the mucus darling. It was a competition for the best meals. with only my left hand i cut a lot of veggies to make my roast ft mushroom parmas. it took a long time. I used a big knife and a tiny blade. his nachos were ready in 10 minutes. it was hard to judge the best meal with the time difference. 

I’m finishing my album and am having a relatively distant relationship with social media. it’s funny, sometimes when people take a break from it i’m like oh ok:) you’ll be back............. we’re:) all:) doomed:). but it’s good.  I feel so tethered to the convenience, for me the little recorder, map, camera, & phone in your pocket.. but email, messenger, socials... going to things to be filmed, acounted for, captured, checked in at every place you go. Getting the tags right. Is this worth sharing? can you take another one?

In this time not releasing music i’ve been teaching, mentoring at my old uni (which gives me an immense purpose and a sense of pride, go inner nerd, go) i’ve been reading, i’ve been playing piano, i’ve been more social. I planted a garden in my back yard with herbs and flowers. It was just worn dirt when i moved in and now there are insects and birds. in particular these magpies that help me with the bugs. I’m so happy out there weeding it and planting things. I can’t wait for the tulips to bloom. i feel like it’s a nice meditation. I dont mind if the bugs eat my kale. my hands are too covered in earth to use my phone or get back to someone asap.  in autumn we got so many grapes on the vines in our yard. There’s this pergola thing with old grape vines all over it. one of my fondest memories of this year was watching alex picking them in the afternoon with the sun on his back. i stood in the living room looking out at him, soaking it in. watching him try find the best grapes. deep in focus, leaning on things to reach. there were some rainbow lorikeets that moved in too. you could see their little heads burried in the vines. that afternoon light, just being still and slow and soaking it in. We had a weekend of not only no phones but no screens. since i was 17 i have never done that for more than a day. my work is a screen. my phone is always with me. We did 3 whole days, phones with do not disturb on top of the fridge. laptops in the office and it was genuinely sad coming back. i felt this weight and this mood shift. In that time we read cooking books, we played board games, we lit fires. I know part of that nostalgia comes from it being a novelty, but it was so so nice to break. important. obvious. i come on tumblr late in the darkness without the fridge hum just thinking about why im anxious or why i’m here of all places writing about how dumb social media is, but i think getting thoughts out helps. I’ve enjoyed months and months of intensity but no anxiety.  A life that is full, but not crushing. A garden. love. a home. just enough stability to keep things interesting. buying groceries and putting them in boxes and doing a weekly shop.  Sometimes with doing my art independently the crushing moments really crush. i keep myself in check knowing that im not alone. all small businesses, and all humans feel these things.  the song tomorrow is one of the best songs i’ve made, i can feel myself grow as a songwriter, and yet the tone of it reminds me of being 14. guitars. strings. it’s going to be fun to bring to life, live.  I’m anxious about the song tomorrow because i want my voice to be strong (so sleep and hydrate) I’m worried i haven’t finalised the words (so record options) Once they’re out of my head it’s better, because it seems like theres a massive list of problems and no solutions otherwise. tomorrow is ok, even if has this little element of the crushing feeling. take some space for you if you haven’t lately. get into the earth and plant something.  adrenalin, worry, hope. all ok. for now im off to bed.  making the music is one of my very favourite parts.  sharing it with you is the other. the new chapter begins.  x

[faith-in-dean]

A Study of Love - Chapter Three

Summary: Changes were often difficult to manage. In your case, it was a blessing sent from heaven. Sure, you had to master some difficulties but in the end, you would not have decided differently.

Words: 1362

Pairing: Professor!Tony Stark x Reader

Warnings: mild angst

A/N: Please leave some feedback! It encourages me to keep writing this!

Masterpost

What met you surprised you pleasantly. The lab was gigantic and filled with all kinds of technologies. You were speechless. How was this all possible?

“What is this?” You managed to ask as you glanced around.

“It's more of a private lab for Dr. Banner and me. This is where we test our own projects. Ultimately because we don't want to end up homeless at a failed attempt,” Mr. Stark chuckled some. Sure, you had heard about him and his projects. You just had never expected to be face to face with them.

“Just recently Tony and I had come upon a problem neither one of us can seem to solve,” Dr. Banner came into the view, meeting the two of you, “perhaps you could help us.”

The two scientists lead you over to a metal suit. It was about Tony's size and was linked to many technologies. You reached out to touch the metal, checking how every little piece was put perfectly together.

“This is a model of an iron suit. Don't ask me why I would need something like that. But we can't happen to install my software and calibrate it so it's not going crazy when someone tries to use it,” Tony… Mr. Stark told you.

“Perhaps you can see what we can't,” Dr. Banner gave you a nervous smile before you nodded.

You dropped your bag and began to check out the program called F.R.I.D.A.Y. before checking the suit and how it could possibly be linked. It didn't take long until you were completely lost in the task, studying everything you needed to know to move forward with your investigation. You programmed and switched multiple components of the system. All of that happened while Professor Stark and Dr. Banner watched you closely.

“I've told you she's gifted,” Tony whispered to Bruce while they kept an eye on her.

“I've never doubted that! It's just that she doesn't seem to put a lot of effort into her studies,” Bruce sighed in return.

“About that. I've talked to her about this matter,” Tony started, “she's taking care of her sick grandmother all on her own. That's why she's always so tired around here.”

“But that's her decision, isn't it?”

“It might be. But we should help her, find a better solution for her. She is meant for this,” Tony insisted, looking at his friend with pleading eyes.

“What should we do about it? And why is it so important to you to get her through this?” Bruce questioned the brown-haired man, already knowing he was going to give in either way.

“We could find help for her grandmother. Professional help so Y/N can focus on her studies. And I care because she's got a talent we can't let slide,” Tony pointed out though he knew there was some sort of personal bond he felt towards her. But he just couldn't wrap his mind around it.

Before the two men could continue their talk, you turned your attention back to them.

“I think I found the general source of the problem. I've got everything I need to know written down but I'll need a little more time to think and work this through,” you told them with a smile on your face.

Tony had returned your smile while Dr. Banner remained with an uncertain glance.

“You can report to me after our next class,” Mr. Stark told you, making you nod in excitement. This had actually turned out to be something you were extremely interested in. And if two well-known scientists couldn't figure the problem out but you could, your ego would experience a little boost in confidence.

“I will. Thanks, professor,” you gave him a smile before picking up your bag and heading to leave.

But instead of you getting more sleep, you had been working on the matter non-stop, sleeping even less than you had before. And instead of it just taking a couple of days, it took you a couple of weeks. Professor Stark had been checking the status every now and then, nodding his approval. But at the same time, you couldn't help but notice his worried behavior whenever he saw just how long and how much time you had put in this. He even showed some signs of guilt.

About a week into the project, Professor Stark pulled you aside after class again.

“May I talk to you for a second?” he asked you, concern in his eyes.

“Uh, sure. Is everything alright?” you questioned your professor.

“I had a talk with Dr. Banner about your current living situation and we came to a conclusion that we want to help you,” Mr. Stark’s eyes met yours.

“Oh?” quirking a brow, you looked up at him. Why would they talk about your living situation?

“I've made it my task to look for a place that could take care of your grandmother, professionally. I know you didn't want that for her but I'd hate to see you keep going like this,” Tony told you, a soft sigh on his lips, “I've looked for the best place I could find and visited it in my free time. Your grandmother will be doing good there.”

It took you a few moments to progress everything your professor had told you. He was so worried he actually looked into changing your living situation? And more so he got Dr. Banner to help too?

“But I can't even afford to live in that house all by myself,” the thought of not having to work more every time you returned from uni was like a dream. But your grandmother was the one making it possible for you to live there as well.

“You could live on the campus. Dr. Banner has already looked into a potential roommate for you. I'm going to sponsor you as long as you promise to take care of yourself,” the words hit you in shock once again. But through all this, there was one question you couldn't stop thinking about.

“Why do you care so much? Why would you do all that for me?” Your voice came through harsher than you had anticipated.

Tony's mouth opened as he wanted to reply but closed again. He looked like he truly had to consider what he was saying.

“Please just accept the offer. You have the chance of becoming the best student this university had in over 20 years,” he finally sighed, though it didn't seem like that was what he wanted to say. Maybe the smallest part of you had hoped he would say something else.

“I'll- I'll think about it, Mr. Stark,” you nodded at him, turning to leave. As you made your way to the door, you could hear your professor mutter under his breath before he called you back.

“Y/N?”

“I care because I see so much in you because you have so much worth. You are really something special and it's taking all I have to keep calm about you,” he told you, grabbing you by the wrist and pulling you against him while you were still in shock over his confession.

“I’m gonna regret this,’ Tony sighed before his lips crashed against yours, kissing you deeply. You were taken aback by his actions and didn't know how to react at first. Though after a moment of hesitation your feelings had gotten the upper hand and you returned the kiss longingly. Your bag dropped to the ground as Tony pulled you closer, pressing himself against you.

You couldn't deny yourself that with all the care your professor presented to you and how strongly he believed in you, you had developed feelings for him. The fact that he was very pleasing to look at, didn't help either.

It was only when Tony pressed his leg between yours when you remembered how little you had taken care of yourself and how unpresentable you were. Despite your mind telling you to keep going, you pushed Tony away from yourself and picked up your bag.

“I- sorry,” you mumbled before quickly taking off to your next class, leaving your professor almost dumbfounded.

@feelmyroarrrr   @cameronmonaghantrashaf    @backoffmyhusband    @llittle-bird    @supernaturallymarvellous     @crazysocklovingfangirl    @fairlightswiftly @sassysupernaturalsweetheart     @dark-night-sky-99    @emma641     @clairese1980 @aseasyasdeanspie    @river-alice-wolf    @ivvitm1109  @i-have-a-wonky-eye-too @gabbie7-11

#Tony Stark x Reader #Tony Stark #Tony Stark x You #Tony Stark fanfiction #Tony Stark one shot #Tony x Reader #Tony x you #Marvel #MCU #Marvel x reader #marvel one shot #marvel fanfiction

[katzuyas]

hi! it’s same-face-in-every-selfie kat lmao I was tagged by @nikiviki for the 7 selfies of 2017 meme, so here’s my pick at why-tf-do-I-have-so-much-pink-lipstick year lololol thanks so much for the tag love 💕

I’ll be tagging my angel @tetsya bc I haven’t seen ur sweet face in ages and I need me some of that cute uwu, and then also: @theexitgarden, @relent, @maniacani, @saniika, and @tendou-satori if you guys feel like it!

the rest of the tag games are under the cut ^u^)b

tagged by @evenifidie thanks for the tag!!

Take an excerpt of your writing, put it into Google Translate, translate it into a random language, and then back into English, and see what you end up with!

ORIGINAL:

Yuuri's sleep warm and cuddly, and Victor wants nothing more that to keep spooning him until they can both wake up enough to exchange slow, soft kisses like they do on their days off. Sadly, it's not one of those days and they need to get up.

-- from a little something I have written for @domesticvictuuriweek

CEBUANO TO ENGLISH:

Yuuri's sleep is hot and vibrant, and Victor does not want to keep on blowing him until they both feel enough to move slowly, soft kisses like their days. Sadly, this is not one of those days and they have to get up. 

well the last sentence was underwhelming but victor blowing yuuri when he’s hot and vibrant in his sleep is definitely not the vibe I’m going for here ahahah lmao this was a bust

oh man I’m gonna tag ppl for it bc this was fun: @sagechan, @matsinko, @the-world-of-illyas-james, @shslshortie and @kaja-skowronek

tagged by @evenifidie thanks again!!

rules: post the last sentence you wrote (fanfic, original work, poetry, whatever floats your boat!) and tag the same number of people as there were words in the sentence 

One that Victor can't wait to be fulfilled.

lol good luck figuring out what this is

and I’m too lazy to tag for this one, sorry tcuhyjbnj if u want to do it, feel urself tagged tho! especially the ppl from the tag above! //winkwonk

tagged by @kaja-skowronek thanks so much for the tag, sweetheart 😘

1) HOW MANY WORKS IN PROGRESS TO DO YOU CURRENTLY HAVE?

posted and updated regularly only one (carry on), which is more of a drabble dump than a wip, but I’m working on 5 others which are eating me alive bc I have no chill whatsoever lmao

2) DO YOU/WOULD YOU WRITE FANFICTION?

been there done that still doing it lol

3) DO YOU PREFER PAPER BOOKS OR EBOOKS?

definitely books, there’s nothing better than the feel of turning the pages and the smell of paper and ink while ur gobbling up page after page, it’s awesome. would never change for anything else in the world. now if only we could get fics printed out as well I’d be in heaven

4) WHEN DID YOU START WRITING?

I was probably around 12-13, visiting my dad in the us, and I got completely swallowed by reading harry potter fics. that’s when it all started for me. and then when I got home I wanted to try my hand at it and... now here we are, almost 13 years later lol

5) DO YOU HAVE SOMEONE YOU TRUST THAT YOU SHARE YOUR WORK WITH?

I usually don’t like to share my work when it’s unfinished so it’s v rare for me to do so 

6) WHERE IS YOUR FAVOURITE PLACE TO WRITE?

my room, at night, when there’s peace and quiet and I can focus properly

7) FAVOURITE CHILDHOOD BOOK?

definitely harry potter, no runner ups

8) WRITING FOR FUN OR PUBLICATION?

the big dream is one day maybe publication but for now it’s just for fun

9) PEN AND PAPER OR COMPUTER?

used to be pen and paper, and then I’d be rewriting that mess onto the computer, but now I’m just too lazy and wtf pen&paper hurts my wrist so much how did I even take notes back in school this is ridiculous omg

10) HAVE YOU EVER TAKEN ANY WRITING CLASSES?

mm yea uni classes which were absolute shit eh

11) WHAT INSPIRES YOU TO WRITE?

everything, really. what inspires me? the colour of leaves in the fall, the snow sparkling on the ground in winter, the fog that doesn’t let you see further than a few meters before you, the chilling cold on the morning walks, the dark that’s brightened up only by the dim street lamps, the colour of the sky that isn’t really blue but tints into reds and pinks and oranges and purples

what gives me strength to write? the comments and tags on my fics, that’s the best reward after spending hours on creating something - to see that people love and appreciate your work, it’s awesome

this was a great tag so I’m gonna put a few other writers on the task ;3c I’m tagging: @evenifidie, @saniika, @matsinko, @rayrayswimusic and @nee-saan

tagged by @evenifidie thanks babe ur spoiling me 💕

list five of your favourite fics (that you’ve written!) and why you like them

have yourself a merry little christmas (make the yuletide gay) 

yoi | victuuri | nsfw | 9k the reason why I love it is v simple: it’s full of sweet, winter fluff and doting on vitya nikiforov which I always will put before everything else 🙏🙏

if there's a will, there's a way

yoi | victuuri | 17k+ this fic is my baby and I have such huge plans for it that I’m almost scared of writing it but gosh I love it? it’s a historical fantasy au which is totally something of a crown jewel in my writing imo and I’m super proud of what already is posted and what else is to come

to keep you warm   

yoi | victuuri | 8k it’s another one of my multiple fantasy au fics bc I live for those and I adore this one especially bc of the imageries, it gives me good vibes and I loved writing it, and I still love coming back to it every now and then

oh ye of so little faith

dna | miyusawa | 32k what can I say? it’s another fantasy au, yes, you guessed it lol I just really love them? and I love this one bc of the characterisation which I’m super proud of and the character development and the actual writing I put into this bc I worked super hard on it and it still pains me that it received only so little attention //sighs

The Matchmaker

hq | kurohina | nsfw | 73k oh gosh there’s so many things I can say about this one but I’ll stop at the most important one: it’s the longest fic I’ve ever written and I’ll forever be proud of myself for sticking it out and finishing it //pats myself on the back

this was actually pretty fun so I’ll tag @kaja-skowronek, @shslshortie, @the-world-of-illyas-james, @starrwinter, @thatravenclawnextdoor and @harmonization

tagged by @kaja-skowronek thank you!!

relationship status: can’t believe I’m actually typing this but... taken ;3c

favorite color: I don’t have only one, but I’m really in love with the pastels recently

favorite hobby: definitely writing!

last song: transit by takaaki natsushiro bc I’m rewatching yowapeda before new season hits

last movie: caught the last scenes of hp and the sorcerer’s stone last night on tv ;3c

top three shows: wow... that’s tough. yoi is definitely the top top, but the other two I’d say daiya and khr bc the nostalgia is strong these days

I’m not tagging anyone for this one, but if someone wants to do it, I’m tagging you personally ^u^)b

phew, this was a lot to go through yhchyvbjn I’m so bad at doing these orz I’m so sorry yall it’s been like months since some of these tags I’m a lazy shit ahaha anyway, thanks so much for all of it, I really loved these!!! 💕

#tag game #me myself and I #wow this was a lot #but I had fun #also an excuse to post my face is always a good one #hi I'm kat nice to meet yall face to face lol