#nick holds onto it and holds out that maybe just maybe something will change and it does but not in the way he hoped

[querenciasturniolo]

i absolutely love your writing! could you maybe write something like nick and y/n is best friends and play argue/ fight all the time but y/n accidentally admits her feelings about matt and nick goes ballistic?

obviously ⮕ n.s.

word count: 1k

warnings: swearing, accidental confession, shame, embarrassment

summary: one slip of the tongue has you at a complete loss of words

a/n: thank you so much 🫶🏻 this is such a funny concept, and it was so fun writing it.

everything written is completely fictional. the people i write for are written with characteristics and mannerisms that i made for them, this is in no way depicting what would actually happen in real life.

part one || part two

Nick never kept anything he was feeling to himself.

It was one of his many charms, constantly saying how he felt. You loved it, considering he was your best friend. You were never bored when Nick was on one of his rants. Right now was one of those moments, the two of you were laying in his bed, your stomach aching with how hard you were laughing.

“No, I’m serious! This old ass man was walking so fucking slow in front of me, and then pushed the pull door. He deserved it though, he wouldn’t let me pass.” He said. You shook your head and ran your hands through your hair.

“You always get yourself in the worst situations, I swear.” You said, another smaller laugh bubbling out of you as you sat up.

Nick pushed himself up and pulled his phone out. “Okay, topic change. Why are you posting all of these mushy, agonizingly painful text quotes about love on threads all of a sudden?” He asked. You turned to face him with your eyebrows raised.

“What are you talking about?”

Nick scoffed and tapped away on his phone, pulling up your threads profile and reading one of your posts out loud. “The only love that lasts is unrequited love.” He quotes dramatically, putting his whole soul into the theatrics. “I am in love with you, and I can’t do anything about it.” He finished. Your face was burning as you shook your head and shrugged.

“I don’t know, I thought they were beautiful.” You said, the look on Nick’s face completely unamused.

“Just tell me, Y/n. I’m not gonna judge you.” He said. He stood from his bed then, the expression on his face goofy. “Is it me? Are you in love with me? I wouldn’t blame you, I’m great.” You threw your head back and laughed, meeting Nick’s smiling face once more as you shook your head.

“Please, I’m not that delusional.” You said, reaching down and sliding your shoes onto your feet. “There’s no point in me saying it, because it would never happen anyway.”

Nick’s hand rested on your shoulder, your gaze meeting his. He was frowning, and you couldn’t help but scoff at him. “Okay, now I’m convinced that it’s me.” He said, a goofy smile on his face.

You snorted and shook your head before reaching for the door handle. “Nope.” You said, Nick raising his eyebrows.

“Chris, then? You guys have been hanging out a lot.” You scoffed and pulled a face, making it seem like you found it ridiculous.

“Wrong brother, but nice try.” You said, your hand freezing before you turned the knob. You could feel the gears turning in his head as he processed your slip up.

“Oh my God, it’s Matt, isn’t it?”

You turned your head to face him, more than likely resembling a deer in headlights as you met his eyes. His eyes were wide as realization dawned on him.

“Holy shit, I knew it!” He shouted. You shushed him, holding your hands up. Nick shook his head and stepped past you, slowly turning the door handle.

“Nicolas Antonio, I swear to God.” You said through your teeth, trying to avoid laughing as he ripped open the door and bolted down the stairs. You chased after him, shouting obscenities the moment you had him cornered. He was on the other side of the dining table, his smile playful as he moved from side to side, trying to catch you off guard. You were one step ahead of him, laughter trying its hardest to break through your lips as you beamed at Nick, shaking your head with each movement he made.

“I will smite you, I can promise you that.” You said, the both of you moving to the left quickly, completely switching sides of the table. Your back was to the sink, his to the stairs and both of your hands resting on the back of a chair.

Nick laughed quietly and shook his head. “I’m not going to tell Matt you like him, obviously. That’s just fucked up.” He said. You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, you noticed the movement out of the corner of your eye.

It took you too long to process that Matt was standing next to the fridge, his eyes wide and his mouth agape. You felt all of the color drain out of your face, shame and embarrassment creeping in as your eyes flickered between Nick and Matt. Nick finally turned around, his eyes widening when seeing Matt standing there.

Before anyone could say anything, you rushed around the table and down the stairs, rushing out of the house and to your car.

The entire drive home, you were ignoring your phone vibrating, wanting to let yourself calm down and get home before you even looked. It took you getting to your room and sitting on your bed before you even pulled your phone out to see.

You sighed and messaged Nick back, letting him know you weren’t mad at him and that you just needed some time to yourself to process everything.

You were mortified, to say the least. It felt childish to be embarrassed about having your feelings for someone revealed, but considering you’d known him your entire life, it almost felt…desperate.

It felt as though you’d ruined everything. You never wanted Matt to find out about your feelings for him, you were planning on just ignoring these feelings and letting them go away. Knowing them for as long as you have, it felt almost wrong, like you weren’t supposed to have these feelings because of your friendship.

You groaned and dropped back on your bed, grabbing a pillow and pressing it against your face to muffle yourself. Tomorrow you’d be over this, you knew the embarrassment and shame would go away quickly. You’d never been the type to let something like this hold you down, but you figured it was the shock of it all happening so quickly.

It felt like you were laying there for ages, your pillow resting on your face lightly and your arms resting above your head. Your phone vibrated next to you, your hand reaching for it blindly as the other pushed your pillow off of your head. You figured it was a text from Nick, probably asking you if you wanted to talk about it or something along those lines.

Your heart stopped in your chest when Matt’s name lit up your screen. You immediately opened the text, your hands shaking as you read over the three words over and over again.

#nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader (platonic) #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

[se4son-of-the-witch]

kiss kiss - nick sturniolo

in which nick’s boyfriend joins him for the valentine’s day restock of space camp wellness

nick x male reader !

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

The bright lights flashed as you watched Nick pose in front of the camera. You were currently at the photo shoot for his Valentine’s Day launch for Space Camp Wellness. You couldn’t be more proud as he flashed a smile at the photographer.

After taking a few more pictures, Nick came over to you with a playful smile on his face. He then said, "I have a crazy idea, but it's worth a shot.” You waited for him to continue, curious about his idea. “I want you to join me.”

Your eyes scanned over his face. He wore an expression of hope, his eyes begging for you to say yes. It would be a good idea since it was Valentine’s Day, and the fans knew all about your guys’ relationship. They absolutely adored the two of you together.

“Sure, I’ll do it.” Nick’s hopeful expression changed to a happy one, a big smile spreading across his face.

“Oh, I love you.” He leaned in a pressed a quick peck to your lips. His eyes scanned down your body, making you furrow your brows. “But I do need you to change.”

You let out a chuckle. “What's wrong with my outfit?”

“It’s just not very Valentine’s Day, that’s all. There should be an extra shirt in the dressing room.”

You entered Nick's dressing room and found the white button-up shirt he had mentioned. It matched perfectly with the red one he was wearing.

After you put on your shirt, you walked back over to Nick. "Much better," he said, taking your hand. He led you in front of the camera and instructed you to sit on a stool. You sat down and waited for Nick's next direction. "Now, hold this for me," he said, handing you a cherry-flavored lip balm. You held it up, smiling. Nick leaned in and kissed you on the cheek as the photographer snapped a photo.

After a few more poses, a brilliant idea pops into your head. “I just thought of something.” Nick turns to look at you, giving you his full attention. “What if we kiss, but hold up one of the balms in front of us? And instead of focusing on us, it focuses on the balm. We’ll just be blurry in the background.”

“I am so down,” he says as he grabs onto your hand.

The two of you stand in front of the camera, waiting for the photographer to adjust his camera. “Was this just an excuse to kiss me?” Nick asks with a smirk.

“Maybe,” you say, dragging out the e. “But stay focused. You can kiss me all you want later,” you say with a wink.

Nick softly laughs before he places a hand on your jaw. His hands are soft against your skin, lightly caressing the skin. You place your hand against his jaw, your thumb tracing his cheek. Your other hand holds up the cherry-flavored lip balm, his holding up the watermelon-flavored one.

“Three, two, one,” the photographer counts down. As he goes to press the button, you connect your lips with Nick’s. He syncs his lips up with yours, the two of you moving in a perfect rhythm. You can feel him smile into the kiss, which causes your lips to curl up into a smile.

As you pull away, you can’t help but smile. Nick keeps his eyes on you, watching as you smile at him. “You’ve been such a good help today, I can’t thank you enough.”

You take his hand in yours, rubbing circles on his skin with your thumb. “It’s pretty easy when I have such an amazing boyfriend.” He smiles before pulling you closer to him.

His arms wrap around your neck as he leans in, connecting his lips with yours. You allow your hands to cup his face as you move your lips, letting out a soft sigh. You couldn’t have been prouder of him.

┊ ✫ ┊ ┊ ☾⋆ ┊ ⊹ ┊ ✯ ⋆ ┊

a/n: i thought this was a cute concept, and happy valentine’s day ! ❣️

#sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo #nic sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo x reader #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo x reader #nick sturniolo x you

[lovesodakid]

sworn to secrecy 6

chris x fem!reader

1 2 3 4 5

summary: chris and y/n have known each other, pretty much their whole lives. y/n has always had a crush on chris. chris always viewed y/n as ‘nate’s little sister’ until one day, he realized, she wasn’t so little anymore…which nate sees..in which. he does not approve of whatsoever. (“brothers best friend trope”)

warnings: underage drinking/drunkness. should be all!!

____________________________________________

the ride back to the triplets house seems blurry and hazy as the alcohol continues to consume my senses. the dimly lit streetlights and florescent headlights being the only illumination of the dark night.

“hey, you okay?” nick asks from above me. im laying on my side, head on his lap in the backseat.

“mhm.” i grumble, attempting to sit up.

i rub my head with my right hand, as my left is holding my limp body up.

“hey kid,” chris begins as he turns around in the passenger seat. “maybe slow down on the drinks next time, yeah?”

i let a small laugh escape my lips as i sit up more in the seat. my back now against the back of it.

“are we almost there?” i question. referring to the triplets house, obviously.

“yeah. just ten more minutes.” matt answers, keeping his eyes trained on the empty road ahead of us.

i nod my head in response. memories from the night flooding my brain.

the sound of chris’s fist smacking against christian’s face before he falls to the ground. i wince at the memory.

a year ago, you couldn’t have paid me enough to even take a sip of alcohol. now? i just got completely wasted at my first party. i don’t know what switch has flipped in me lately, but something has definitely changed a lot.

“okay we’re here.” matt says as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

i nod again, unbuckling my own as i open the car door. i plant my feet on the graveled surface of the driveway, i take about two steps before i’m already wobbling. struggling to keep my balance.

“hey-here.” chris says quietly as i feel a warmness coating the exposed part of my waist due to black, slightly cropped shirt covering the top half of my body.

“you got her?” i hear nick question chris as we make our way up the steps of the patio, towards the front door.

“yeah.” he replies, keeping a tight grasp on me to keep me held up and walking.

“here i’ll get the door.” i hear matt rush in front of us, the sound of a lock unlocking filling the silence.

once the door squeaks open, a finger making itself over my lips in a “shush” position. i turn around to face chris behind me, assuming it’s him since the warmth of his left hand has left my waist.

“shh. you gotta be quiet okay? mom and dad are asleep.” he speaks softly, removing his finger from my mouth to grab onto my left shoulder.

i nod my head up and down, matt holding the door open for us to walk in. nick walking behind us, just incase i fall backwards.

my feet slowly approach the threshold of the door, making my way through it. the smell of the house filling my nostrils. the smell i’ve grown fond of. the smell i’ve considered home. the smell i wish my own house smelled of. family dinners every night, family game nights, and grill outs during the summer. my house was nothing like that. instead, it was filled with lingering aroma of alcohol and cigarettes. the alcohol from my dad, cigarettes from my mom. a house filled with pain and suffering. a house where family dinners didn’t exist, just the occasional times where we’d sit together and eat on the couch in silence as a random show took over the tv screen. which only happened once, maybe twice a year at most if i was lucky.

i look down, watching every step i take, making sure i don’t trip over anything as im already struggling to keep myself up and walking.

we all slowly but surely make our way up the squeaky brown staircase. chris keeping a tight grip on me. matt walking in front of us, nick walking behind us.

“okay, i’m going to bed. goodnight guys.” matt says quietly as he makes his way to his bedroom. leaving small creaks throughout the floorboard in his path.

“hey y/n/n, you coming to my room?” nick questions, placing his hand on my shoulder.

i nod as chris slowly loosens his grip on me, allowing nick to take hold to walk me to his room.

“okay, i’m going to bed. let me know if you need anything.” he explains as he begins his way to his room.

“okay, c’mon.” nick slowly walks me to his bedroom. the door making a slight screech sound as it opens.

once we both enter his room, i make my way to his bed, flopping myself down on my back as i stare up at the white, blank ceiling.

“you want some clothes to change into to sleep in?” nick inquires as he starts making his way towards his closet, sliding open the mirrored door.

“mhm.” i hum. wanting to just be comfortable, and out of the clothes that are currently coating my limp self.

“okay, here.” he hands me a set of grey sweatpants, and a random white hoodie he must’ve had for years, small stains here and there. “i’m gonna go brush my teeth while you get dressed.”

he heads to the bathroom, shutting his door behind him. i sit myself up, cursing myself for drinking so much alcohol in the first place. especially for the years i told myself i would never drink.

once i’m finally able to stand up without face planting, i remove the clothes i was wearing to put on the clothes nick lended me. the cotton hoodie and sweatpants immediately comforting my body. the warmness soothing the places that were once freezing.

i throw my clothes somewhere onto nick’s floor before climbing into his bed, pulling the comforter all the way up to my chin. the mattress sinking in, molding the place where my body lays.

my eyes already being extremely heavy, flutter closed as the paralyzing slumber takes over my body.

-

i blink my eyes multiple times to open them from their sleepy state. i sit up, the comforter of nicks bed slightly falling off the top half of my body, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

i place my feet on the cold flooring, as i stand up to make my way out of his bedroom. turning around to make sure he’s still asleep before turning the knob of his door. creating the small sound of metal rubbing against each other.

i make my way out of his room, only to be met with someone sitting at the island table, scrolling through their phone. sounds coming quietly from the speaker of it as he scrolls through various videos.

i walk around a little more to see the face of who it is. once i’m where i can see his face, he’s already spotted me.

“hey! how you feeling?” he interrogates quietly as he sits his phone face down on the table. ending with a small *thump* sound.

“um-i feel okay.” i answer, shrugging my shoulders. “what time is it?”

he picks his phone back up, reading the time back to me.

“5:03 A.M.” he reads, setting his phone back down.

“oh.” i say, walking towards the fridge to grab any kind of liquid after i noticed how painfully dry my throat had been.

silence fills the air as i open the refrigerator door, grabbing a plastic water bottle. i shut the door as i turn my back to it, facing chris once again.

i twist the plastic lid as it makes a small “pop” sound. taking a quick swig of the drink before placing it down on the marble design of the island.

“so, how was your first party experience?” he asks, staring right dead at me with a sly grin.

“um,” i begin. “it was okay. other than the fact i want to puke right now. and the fact you beat some dudes face in.” i laugh.

he shakes his head side to side before speaking. “well, the dude deserved it.” he says with a shrug of his shoulders.

i nod my head in agreement, crossing my arms.

“why did you do it?” i question him.

his face slightly faltering before he begins speaking.

“i just had my reasons.”

i push my lips into a straight line, raising my eyebrows as i nod.

“you should be getting back to bed. you’re gonna have a nasty hang over. so you should probably get some sleep.” he explains, standing up from his stool.

“goodnight chris.” i tell him, making my way back into nicks room.

“goodnight y/n.” he speaks softly, eyes scanning over my face before walking away with a small rub on my shoulder.

i walk back into nicks room, shutting the door behind me. i stride towards his bed. once i sit down, i get into a position i think is comfortable enough to sleep in, allowing the sleep to take over my body once again.

____________________________________________

a/n: sorry this part took so long to get out !! i was dealing with some minor personal things. i also apologize if this is a little more on the boring side. and for the fact its short!!!!

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #matt sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic #sturniolo smut #sturniolo x reader #sturniolo

[harryforvogue]

harry and annaliese please!!!

“Do you know what you’re doing?”

Annaliese looks up from the lather, offense etched onto her features. “I’ve done this before.”

“Several years ago, yes.”

“I wouldn’t say several. Now, do you want to be standing for this and I could get a stool or maybe–”

“No,” Harry says, sitting on the edge of the tub. He pats his thigh twice. “Come here.”

Annaliese’s eyes widen. Her heart flutters…well, everywhere. “Really?”

“Really.”

She grabs all the utensils and then carefully sits sideways on his lap. Harry shakes his head and grabs her waist, twisting her over so her legs wrap around his torso. 

“You’ll fall over,” she protests. 

“I won’t.” He spreads his legs wider to balance himself. His hands don’t move from her waist. If anything, they grip tighter. 

She froths the cream a little bit more before shifting closer, raising his chin. “Your lips.”

He pulls them between his teeth, eyes alight with excitement, and perhaps something else. She starts over his mouth, and then down his cheeks and jaw. Then his neck. He shudders at the cold cream, but lets her swirl the brush over his stubble until nicely coated. 

“Do you remember the first time we did this and I nicked your neck?”

Harry restores his lips to normal and chuckles softly. “I bled for ten minutes. You ran to get me a bandaid if I recall correctly.”

“And Thea asked how you could have cut yourself when you’ve never done so before.”

“It was fun, wasn’t it? Keeping us a secret.”

“Fun for you, maybe. I didn’t like lying to my best friend.”

“Lying?” Harry rubs her hip with his thumb. “I don’t think it was lying. Just hiding.”

“I had to tell her I wasn’t interested in anyone for, like, six months!”

“The horror,” Harry murmurs, turning his head as Annaliese flips open the razor. “Carefully, yes?”

“Yes, yes. I know.”

She starts at his sideburns, slowly dragging down. His eyes flutter shut at the contact, just briefly, before opening, staring past her shoulder. Harry never lets his stubble grow out much, so the hair are already short. She stretches the skin with one her left hand and shaves with her right. When the razor is coated, she pulls back and leans over to the sink to dip it into the already filled warm basin. Harry’s hands hold her tightly to make sure she doesn’t fall.

“Good?” she asks.

Harry nods. “So far no casualties.”

“You’re so dramatic.”

He raises his eyebrows. “Cannot be more dramatic than you.”

She uses the towel slung over his shoulder to wipe down the blade and then goes back to stretching his skin. As she gets the hang of it, he relaxes his tense shoulders and wanders his eyes over to her. 

She can see him watching her from the corner of her vision. When she glances over at him, Harry only stares back until his left eye drops in a wink.

Annaliese, despite being married to this man for several years, blushes. Harry laughs, rubbing her back as if to comfort her.

Once she gets to his mouth, he dutifully bites down on lips to hide them as she glides the razor over his mustache and down his jaw. She makes sure to get the corner of his mouth, and one one side of his face is down, she cleans the blade and leans forward to kiss his soft cheek a few times. The cream he uses smells divine. There must be some science behind how the smell drives her insane.

This, of course, Harry knows. He gives his knees a little bounce to send her bumping into him.

“You’ll fall!” she says again. 

“Won’t.”

Annaliese sighs and continues with the other side of his face. When she’s done, he tilts his head back so she can get his neck, visibly tense again as she goes over his Adam’s apple. He grabs her waist again as she washes away the froth. 

“Done,” she announces, extremely proud of herself. “Now I’ll go over it again–”

“No,” Harry says quickly, grabbing the razor from her. “I’ll do that.”

She frowns. “You said I could.”

“Yes, but I’ve changed my mind. Going against the hair is, er, too advanced. I can do it. But you can watch.”

He pats her thigh firmly and goes to stand up, taking her with him. Her feet land against the floor and he walks her backwards until her back hits the sink, trapping her there. He takes the cream and rubs it over his face once more, cleaning the blade again as well.

Annaliese stops her complaining right away as Harry looks over her head at himself in the mirror, quickly shaving his jaw and neck. He does it at such a speed, it’s so fun to watch. A smile plays on his lips because he knows exactly how she feels as she watches him. Her hands grab his shirt, mouth ajar, waiting for him to finish his neck to press her lips to his pulse point, kissing it repeatedly.

Harry laughs softly, continuing to shave over his mustache. All she can hear is the scratch of the blade against the short hair. She pulls away once he’s finished, stepping back to let him wash the rest of the lather away. She takes the towel away from his shoulder and pats his face dry.

“So handsome,” she whispers. “You are so handsome. It's so unfair. I should keep you locked up. Nobody should be allowed to look at you.”

Harry wraps his arms around her when she leans up to kiss him, urgency laced into her lips. She kisses him and kisses him until the air runs out, her back digging into the sink. She has to press her thighs together to get some relief, which Harry, as the attentive man he is, notices right away.

“If you keep kissing me like this,” he murmurs heavily against her mouth, “we’ll never make it to dinner.”

His hands slide down her sides suggestively.

“We don’t need to go to dinner,” she says.

“I made these reservations four months ago, my love.” He pulls back to hold her face, squishing her cheeks together. “We will be going to dinner.”

Annaliese attempts to pout, which earns her another heavy kiss from her husband. “Fine,” she sighs, seeking out one more kiss. “But after that, I get to have my way with you.”

“Mm. Absolutely.”

#harry styles #harry and annaliese #wtss #i'm posting this from the train #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff

[sillygoosealert]

Can you write about Smoke finding out his significant other has been harming herself and has been depressed for sometime but would try to hide it from him so he wouldn't worry?

They’re just Cat scratches I swear

Tw self-harm by cutting, pretty self-indulgent as my own experience but also like this is pretty much everyone’s experience combined, hope whoever sent this is okay, I hope you all are doing okay

Tomas angst, you might die at the end if I'm Feeling Silly

You're training with Tomas in a black long-sleeve

An odd choice considering you're training at the Shri-Ru-Yu but he doesn't question your fashion choice

Afterward, he tries to take you to the hot springs so you don't rot after training

You decline and insist you want to just go to bed

‘How come? We never hang out anymore, did something happen?’

A grim expression covers your face and you excuse yourself to bed

after you train you don't even shower, you just sleep

You sleep a lot, its like you hate being awake

So he desides to get you a sweet treat to cheer you up

That's how he cheers up, little acts of service

He gets you a small cupcake with pink sprinkles

But when he gets to your door, he hears muffled crying

It's like you're sobbing into a pillow

Afraid you are hurt- or something worse, he rushes in

The sight before him is horrific, blood-smeared across your arms and thighs

You're shaking harshly too

He goes over to the bed confused

‘What did you do?!’

Then he notices the razor blade in your hand

And then you notice he noticed the razor blade

Then you start crying even harder

And then he has to put the cupcake down

Then you drop the razor blade, nicking your thigh in the process

And then he has to quickly grab it, putting it on a flat surface to get it away

‘What happened? Why did you.. why didn't you tell me?’

You start to babble incoherent things, curling into a ball and sobbing

Maybe you're having a crying spell

He crawls into bed with you, wrapping an arm around you to pull you in

‘What happened? Talk to me..’

You just cry into him, blood-smearing onto his uniform

Now he's holding you close while rubbing your back

‘Baby I don't know what to do, let me clean you up, please’

You calm down enough to nod and let him drag you away to the bathroom

Its so much worse is good lighting

The cuts are close and long, covering the majority of your thighs

They are sloppy on your arms, not as close or neat

He's shaking with you

And crying

You're both crying a lot

Then he starts a bath

‘I'm going to clean you up, okay? It's going to be fine..’

You don’t know who he’s really saying that to

He places you into the bath, the water lightly changing its shade

‘Gods.. why would you do this? I would have helped you through it.’

‘I’m sorry’

That’s all you say, the time he spends bathing you is spent in silence

The world is cruel and incredibly unfair, you both knew that

But how could someone like Tomas, who has experienced it firsthand, continue to go on when you couldn’t?

He lost his family because he was supposed to, and he still wakes up every morning and lives

But you weren’t like him.

Something neither of you could quite grasp

But that made him scared

What happens when it gets bad again?

Who’s going to save you from the disease that is death

Though, you could also call his love for you a disease too

But that is something he wants no cure to

He cleans your cuts with tears and sobs

Then drys you off without a word

Holding your arms with a firm grip, he stares into you

‘I won't be telling anyone. But I hope you know you aren't going to be leaving my sight anymore.’

You nod your head quickly ‘Okay’

Then he places his head on your thighs

‘You can't leave me. Not yet, not soon..’

Then you run your fingers through his hair, his slightly bloody hair

He doesn't wrap your wounds, letting them heal on their own

But he does take you to bed and lays on top of you, making sure you can't leave

‘Why didn't you tell me?’

‘You have enough on your plate, you didn't need to stress about this.’

‘I want to worry about you, to remind you that I care. I'll always care’

‘Thank you..’

‘I love you’

‘I love you too’

Silly 🎀

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #angst #mk1 angst #mk smoke #mortal kombat smoke #mk1 smoke #mk tomas vrbada #mortal kombat tomas vrbada #tomas mk1 #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada #smoke mk

[blood-mocha-latte]

damp - hilldane drabble

for an anonymous ask || request an edit/drabble || i… don’t know what this is. i call it ‘rie accidentally projects a lot onto two characters simultaneously and accidentally makes herself cry’ and also 'rie needs to stop obsessing about keaton st james poems before they Consume her'

9 LINES ABOUT EITHER ROMANCE OR DEATH

The damp, damp dark seemed to find Andy always wanting, always in a limbo between humanity and something else. Something more, something less. A change, but never one big or small enough to be important.

Eddie sat by him, carving a stick with his knife, warm at Andy’s shoulder.

“Ya ever think love stories will be told about people like us?” He asked. Andy shrugged. He knew the answer that Eddie believed. The same one most men like them believed. A story that ain’t ever worth telling. That wasn’t the answer Andy wanted to give.

“Maybe one day.” He said, watching the way the wind shifted through the palm fronds, the men laughing and talking and playing around in the sand and around the camp. “If it’s a good story.”

Eddie snorted. His knife slipped, and he nicked the pad of his thumb. As he held it up to his lips to suck on the cut, he said, “or a tragic one.”

1. It guides our every action.

Andy walked in front of a tank, and didn’t have to turn around to know that Eddie would follow him. Like a soft string that was tethered to his heart with steel, he never had to think too hard about where Eddie would ever be.

He watched as Eddie bent over, pistol loose in his grip, and talked lowly to the army tanker. Andy didn’t need to see him to know how his eyes flashed on certain words, how his lips twisted around others. 

Talkin’ and killin’. Sometimes Andy thought it might be the same deadly dance.

The army tanker bowed his head, and Eddie turned on his heel and back to their boys, gripping them by their arms, pulling them to their feet. Dusting them off, helping guide them Away. 

Andy wondered if the seraphim of his mothers bible could even hold a candle to Eddie Jones.

He stood in front of the tank until Eddie was done. He watched the treads of the tank, its gun, the crew that he couldn’t see but stared down anyways. 

He’d probably let the damn thing crush him, if it would buy Eddie more time, help more of their boys.

2. Do you remember when we rode the train home from the ocean with salt dried in our hair, and yet, somehow, your mouth still tasted so sweet as i kissed you goodnight on your porch? while the dark-winged sedges sang?

“C’mon, just one.”

“No,” Andy laughed, crossing his legs under him to sit in the shallow foxhole with Eddie, who's smile was wide and eyes even brighter. “You're drunk.”

Eddie laughed, and it was warm and free. “Turns out, the more Saki you drink, it does not taste better.” Andy smiled, leaning against loose dirt and feeling the warmth of the setting sun across his face. 

“You know, I never would've guessed.” He said dryly. Eddie laughed again. He held the near-empty bottle by its glass neck, and extended it to Andy, shaking it slightly.

“Probably should drink some all the same, though.” He said, and Andy couldn't tell if his pupils swallowed his irises because of the drink or something else. “Just to make sure.”

“Nah.” Andy said lightly, in reference to the Saki. “I've got all the proof I need.”

Eddie smiled and, after looking over his shoulder as if a conspiracy, cheeks flushed red and eyes ink dark, he whispered, loudly, “just one kiss, huh, Skip? ‘M probably drunk enough that it's run off on you.”

Andy watched him seriously, if only for a moment, if only to see the way Eddie leaned against the shallow foxhole again and smiled at him with bitten-red lips and dark, happy eyes.

“Well, you could be stone-cold sober and I could still get drunk off you.” Is what he ended up saying, and Eddie's laugh was warm and bright and it made Andy want to reach for him.

“Hopefully I taste less shitty.” Is what Eddie said back, and drank the rest of the Saki in one go. 

3. i dream about you all the time.

Eddie loved, loved, loved Australia, with such a fervor that Andy almost forgot about taking him back home entirely to focus instead on buying them a house Down Under.

They sat in a darker corner of the bar, other marines shouting and singing and drinking and dancing with laughing women. 

Eddie sat with light eyes and a whiskey in front of him, running his index finger along the rim of its glass. 

“I wonder what it's like in the middle of Australia.” Eddie said thoughtfully, his hand stilling. “I know it's wild, but I'd like to know how.”

Under the table, their knees knocked together, and Andy risked hooking his foot around Eddie's calf, downing the rest of his own drink. “I’d guess somewhat like how the west was, before Lewis and Clark got there.” He said, the whiskey burning down his throat and settling in his chest, curling around his heart.

Eddie hummed, finished off his own drink. “I heard from a woman at a corner shop that they tried to send their own Lewis and Clark out there.” He said. “But nature doesn't want them out there. It's just… meant to be wild. Meant to be sand and dark and stars.”

Andy thought about that, for a moment. About a place that can’t be tamed by man, not really. Not like back home, in Lawrence, or even like their camps along every island the Marine Corps sends them to. Just really, truly wild. Home to no one but itself and those who were there first.

“It sounds nice.” He said.

“Yeah.” Eddie said back.

He downed the rest of his whiskey in one go, picked up his and Andy’s empty glasses and tilted them towards the door. Andy huffed, pushing his chair out and standing up.

“Thought I was the one that made orders.” He said dryly. Eddie smiles, small and barely there, the corner of his mouth ticking up and his eyes brilliantly, brilliantly bright.

“Yeah.” He said, slowly. Like a joke. “Don’t get too used to that, Skip.”

4. i’m so constantly hungry sometimes i feel as if i’m nothing but ache

They traded the cigarette back and forth, and it was gone entirely too quickly.

Andy turned to watch Eddie, just out of the corner of his eye, just like he always did, and watched him stub the smoke out against a rock.

“You did what you had to do.” Andy said softly. 

The sun, still sleeping along the horizon, wasn't showing herself. In her absence, shadows stretched across Eddie's face, making him seem older. Haggard.

“I know.” He said. His voice was quiet, his voice slightly off. He swayed slightly, where he rested on his knees, and scrubbed a hand down his face. 

Andy turned to face him fully. Eddie was close enough that he could reach the hand not covering his eyes easily, tangling their fingers together and linking their pinkies.

“When this is over,” He said, “I'm going to take you to the park just outside my neighborhood, and we can watch the sunset there instead, and not worry about this. About any of this.”

From the way Eddie looked at him, Andy knows he didn't believe him. He still tightened his grip in Andy’s hand.

“Yeah.” He said. His voice was rough, like he'd been crying. He'd given his entrenching tool to Andy – it still had blood and brain matter across the flat edge of it – and wouldn't take it back. They both knew the boys were worried now, about having nightmares. They were having their buddies wake them up every fifteen minutes, so they couldn't fall too deep into it. 

Eddie didn't say anything else, but Andy nodded anyway.

“One day,” He said, “I'm going to take you home. And you don't have to believe it, because I do.”

He went back to watching the sunrise, and smiled when he felt Eddie's chapped lips press to his knuckles.

5. every sentence i try to write starts with you and ends with my heart wanting to burst open, less like gates during a flood and more like a peach growing on the vine. so ripe, so ready for the fall.

“I read the book about Huck Finn, once.” Eddie said, one day, while they led their platoon down a water-swollen, muddy crevice. He was quiet, after that, and Andy looked at him sideways, keeping his eyes on his feet and the treacherous path in front of them. 

“Yeah?” Andy asked, after a moment, to prompt him. Eddie blinked, like he'd forgotten he'd spoken at all, but nodded after a moment.

“Yeah.” He confirmed. “When I was thirteen. It was hard as all hell to read, it took me almost a year to get through the damn thing. But I read it. Was real proud, too. Gettin’ through that big book like that.”

“Yeah.” Andy said, trying to remember anything about the book. He'd read it, what seemed like ages ago, but trying to remember its contents or words was like trying to recall the face of a long gone childhood friend. No memory, only feelings. “Did you like it?”

Eddie was quiet again.

When he finally spoke, his eyes stayed on the ground, boots sinking four or five inches into the mud with every squelching step. “I did.” He said, vague. “But my daddy—” 

He stopped, face doing something complicated, one of his hands twitching on his rifle as if, by habit, to have fingertips ghost along a scar. 

Andy half-turned, looking over his shoulder and counting the helmets behind him. He counted them one more time before turning back again. By the time he did so, Eddie’s expression had smoothed back out, eyes ahead.

“He wasn't as proud that I'd read that book as I was.” He said, quietly. “He didn't — I guess he didn't much like what… what Huck Finn was. Or maybe how Tom Sawyer was. I don't know.” 

Andy was quiet. He didn't say sorry. He knew Eddie hated that. 

“I'll have to read it again sometime.” Is what he said, after a long moment. “So we can talk about it.”

Eddie huffed a soft laugh, and Andy, as always, was angry so quickly it made his head hurt.

He imagined a thirteen-year-old Eddie Jones, reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn whenever and wherever he could, a finger tracking the words and his mouth moving silently around them, working steadily through the pages, sentence by sentence. 

He imagined the kind of father who couldn't be so goddamn proud of his son for that, who wouldn't be able to see much past his own beliefs, like rotting teeth in a crying child's mouth. He felt, rather guiltily, a wave of gratefulness towards his own father at the thought. 

The anger passed as quick as it came. It always did. 

“I'd like that.” Eddie said, and Andy tried to remember what they were talking about, in the split second he'd gone somewhere else. “I'd like to talk about Huck Finn with you.”

Andy wished he could let go of his rifle for just a split second, if not to just knock his knuckles against Eddie's.

“I bet I could scrounge one up by next week.” He said instead, just to see Eddie's mouth curl into a smile, and it would have to be enough.

6. i bring up your name any time i eat black raspberry ice cream with someone who isn’t you.

“I'm a shitty writer.” Eddie began out of nowhere, and Andy looked up from where he was trying to clean clotting sand out of his rifle barrel. Eddie wasn't looking at him, his face turned towards the blood-red sun. 

“You're not so bad.” Andy said. Eddie wasn't, was the thing, for all he pretended to be illiterate. It made boys with similar experiences, like Snafu Shelton, laugh; and boys like Eugene Sledge, with enough money to drown in, uncomfortable. 

It just made Andy smile.

Then again, everything that Eddie did made Andy smile. 

“I can't spell for shit.” Eddie said. “You're the only one that can read my handwriting.” 

That, at least, was true. Andy shrugged.

“I like rewriting your reports.” He said. Eddie waved a hand, dismissive.

“Whatever.” He said. “The letters are always fucking moving around, that’s their fuckin’ problem.” Andy smiled. He looked back down to his rifle and continued to unclog it. “My point is that I can't write a letter to save my life.”

Andy shrugged again, but kept his eyes focused on the rifle stock. “I can write a letter for you, if you want.” He offered. Eddie snorted.

“Nah.” He said. “I'm just… well, I’m glad that we're together, here. You know? Because if we weren't, I'd want to write you a letter, and then you'd just be wondering who in the hell gave their blind chicken a pencil.”

Andy’s chest felt warm, like there was hot coffee spreading throughout his veins, and he huffed. “Your writing isn't that bad.” He said. 

Eddie turned to look back at him, for the first time, and the bright horizon dyed the side of his face a brilliant orange. His lips were twisted into their same ever smile.

“No.” He said. “But I'm glad it doesn't need to get better. I'm glad I have you for that.”

And with that, he went back to watching the sunset and Andy went back to his rifle.

Eddie leaned against him, when it was too dark to do anything but be quiet and sleep. Andy took his hands and pressed his lips to his fingers and thanked God that he was able to translate what they were able to show.

There were no artillery barrages, no death, that night. It felt like God had heard him.

8. do you remember when we went running through the wet city streets late at night, how we glowed rose-pink in the shop-lights. how we held hands and laughed and thought we’d never feel this happy again?

“D’you think he'll be alright?” Andy whispered into the dark, Eddie's curls brushing warmly against his jaw. 

Eddie shifted against him, head resting on Andy’s shoulder, and said, “I don't know.”

Andy stared straight ahead. Both of Eddie's hands were tangled with one of his, and he brought his other hand around to run his index finger along the ridges of the others knuckles. “I've never seen it that bad, before.” He murmured. 

Eddie sighed. It was weary, and heavy, and Andy closed his eyes to the melody of it and thought of their park, the one that Eddie's never even been to. It only helps somewhat.

“What matters,” Eddie said, slowly, like he was waiting for Andy to really understand what he was saying before he continued, “is that you got him off the line. Better for him, better for the other boys.”

Andy lifted their tangled mess of hands from his lap, resting his forehead against them. Eddie shifted against his shoulder to press a kiss to his jawline. 

“Maybe countin’ blankets is like counting sheep.” He said, and Andy leaned further into him. Eddie bore the weight without any effort, but Andy still worried about it being too much. He always worried about it being too much. 

That's what causes combat exhaustion. That's what causes men to break apart and start counting things they couldn't see.

“Eddie.” He said, just to say it, against the back of Eddie's hands, to his calloused fingers and warm skin. Eddie's hands tightened around his.

“I know.” Eddie murmured back. “But it's… it's okay. We're… we're right here, you know? Right here together. Here and in the park and wherever else. It’s okay.” 

Andy didn't say anything. He just turned his head and buried his face in Eddie's hair, rough with ocean spray and curled with humidity.

9. it consumes us.

As Andy turned around, he almost knew what he was doing. The rational part of him knew that no one would be there, just at his shoulder. Not ever again.

Least, no one he could ever know and love the same.

But the rational part of him died two days ago.

So Andy turned around anyway, maybe wanting to say something over his shoulder to someone that wasn’t there, and between one split second and another that never came, he could almost see Eddie over his shoulder, eyes intent and bright. Could almost feel his hand in his.

#rie writes #hi and welcome to rie doesn’t know a lot about the pacific so she makes shit up to be sad some more #i hope this is ok anon because i sort of took your ask and fucking BOOKED it #anyways i did No research before writing this so everything is either shit i a) made up or b) was in the miniseries #or c) i read it in a fic somewhere i don’t remember #the pacific #hilldane #andyeddie #andrew ack ack haldane #eddie hillbilly jones #hillbilly jones #hbo war

[whatstruthgottodowithit]

Boy Trouble

Fandom: Full House

Pairing: N/A

Characters: Female Reader, Jesse Katsopolis, Danny Tanner, Joey Gladstone, DJ Tanner, Stephanie Tanner, Michelle Tanner, Nicky Katsopolis, Alex Katsopolis, Original Male Character

Word Count: 2930 // Rating: Teen & Up

Summary: Jesse tries to navigate boy troubles

Tags/ Warnings: Controlling Behaviour, Teenage Romance, Implied SA, Kissing Without Consent, Ex-Boyfriends, Arguing, Angst, Jesse's the uncle we all need, Family Dinners, Stalking, Requested Fic, Requests

Notes: working my way through requests. they're closed until post halloween challenge

updated 8/23

REQUEST

@ancis93 Heya! I read your oneshots with Jessi (Full house) a while ago. Also, I see it was a while ago and now you're writing more for Elvis, but I hope it's ok to write a request for Jessie...it's that Danny has another daughter (older than DJ) who's being bullied by an ex-boyfriend, the whole he tries to call her for weeks, waits for her outside the school, tries to bribe her to give him another chance, but she keeps saying a clear "NO". She became so desperate that she distanced herself from her sisters, Joey, her father, and even the uncle she looked up to and relied on the most. Her sudden change kept Jessie awake, so he decided to find out what was going on and why his sweet niece wasn't as cheerful as before

‘Hey Y/N, Nick’s on the phone for you,’ Jesse said holding the phone out in his hand towards his niece. She was standing at the kitchen island having just made a sandwich. She looked up at him a flash of panic across her face for a moment before it fell back into a neutral position. 

‘Take a message, I’m busy,’ she said with a quick smile before she headed to the door. 

‘But-’ Jesse started but she cut him off as she ducked out into the lounge.

‘Sorry gotta study!’ she said. And with that, she was gone. Jesse sighed and placed the phone back to his ear. 

‘Sorry bud,’ he said, ‘she’s just left.’ 

‘Where’s she gone?’ Nick said bitterly. 

‘Uh, I think she’s studying at her friend Anna’s,’ Jesse said. He didn’t know why he lied. He could have told him that she had refused to take his call. But he didn’t. After all, he didn’t know why Y/N didn’t want to speak to her boyfriend. Boy drama was never something he longed to get involved in. But if she was dodging his calls she had her reasons. And Jesse was a good uncle, he knew not to land her in hot water. 

‘Well, when she gets back tell her to call me?’ Nick said and before he could reply Jesse heard the phone slam on the other end. 

He sighed and placed the receiver back onto its slot just as the backdoor opened and in spilt Becky, Nicky, Alex, Michelle and Steph. 

‘Hey guys,’ he said as his sons plodded towards him. 

‘Hi daddy,’ they said in unison. 

‘Hey Beck, girls,’ Jesse said as his wife followed their path and leaned in to give her husband a kiss. 

‘Hey,’ she said, ‘what you up to?’

‘Nothing,’ Jesse said as he scooped up the boys, one on each hip, ‘well apart from being Y/N’s secretary.’ 

‘Huh?’ Becky said. 

‘Nick called and she’s screening,’ he said simply. 

‘Again?’ Steph said as she took a seat at the dining room table. Michelle took a seat next to her. 

‘This has happened before?’ Jesse asked a worried feeling coming into his gut. 

‘Yeah,’ Steph said nonplussed, ‘he’s been calling all week and she’s barely answered.’ 

‘How do you know?’ Becky asked eyeing the blonde who immediately went still. 

‘You hear a lot from the bedroom across the hall,’ Steph said. 

‘Yeah, or when you have a glass pressed up to the door of it,’ Michelle said.

‘Steph that’s not very nice,’ Becky chastised. 

‘It was only once or twice,’ Steph said defensively. 

‘Yeah, the other ninety-nine we both did it,’ Michelle said earning a scowl from her sister. 

‘Well maybe from now on you should just focus on what’s happening in your own room. Don’t you think Jess?’ Becky said. She reached a hand to stroke Nicky’s hair as she passed by Jesse and the twins headed to start unpacking the groceries she had brought in. Jesse was still holding the boys but he was barely listening to the conversation. His mind was on his eldest niece. He didn’t know why. He didn’t know why Steph’s words had bounced around inside his brain so much. Something was up. He knew it. 

‘Jess?’ Becky said snapping him back to reality. 

‘What? Oh yeah,’ Jesse said non-comittally, hoping his response was the correct one. 

‘Thanks,’ Becky said with a roll of her eyes, ‘now how about you actually listen to me and take the boys upstairs to get them ready for DJ’s party tonight?’ 

‘Sure thing honey,’ he said. 

‘And girls why don’t you head up too?’ Becky asked earning a chorus of ‘okay aunt Becky’ from the two blondes. 

‘Come on boys let's go get you looking spiffy huh?’ Jesse said as he headed towards the back stairs. He placed them down when they hit the landing, allowing them to run full pelt towards the attic. Though as he got down the hall he heard talking. It was on the other side of a door granted but his interest was piqued. He crept quietly along the hall towards Y/N and DJ’s bedroom door. And quietly as he could he placed his ear up against the wood. 

‘I can’t…because I can’t…well, I didn’t tell him to’ he heard her say. She was on the phone, ‘because I…no…it’s DJ’s party…I promised and I already said…okay fine.’ 

Jesse pulled back as he heard the click of the phone being put back in its place. His heart thudded a little harder but he didn’t know if it was because he was doing something he shouldn’t or because of how sad his niece sounded with whoever she was speaking to. His intuition was right, something was wrong, but just as he went to put his hand on the doorknob so he could speak to her he heard the twins yell for him. He jumped, startled at the intrusion, but quickly made up for it by jogging towards where they were waiting for him at the door to the attic. 

✵✵✵

‘And just a water for me please,’ Danny said. The waitress nodded and disappeared towards the bar with their complete drinks order. They were in a fancy new restaurant in downtown San Francisco a place that DJ had begged her dad to take her to for her birthday though the ambience of the restaurant was brought down a peg or two by the Tanner rabble. Even more so as Michelle, the twins, and Joey were having a competition to see who could keep their ‘walrus tusk straws’ in their mouth the longest. 

‘Danny this place is really nice,’ Becky said swivelling her head around to take it all in. 

‘Yeah, well it would be if bonehead here would stop leading the children astray,’ Jesse said smacking Joey upside the head. 

‘It was all DJ’s choosing,’ Danny said. 

‘Well it’s very nice,’ Becky smiled. 

‘I think the appeal was more that the cute guy from her biology class is a bus boy here right Deej?’ Kimmy said earning herself a dig in the ribs from her pal. 

‘Oh is that right,’ Danny said raising his eyebrows. 

‘She doesn’t know what she’s talking about,’ DJ said blushing a little. 

‘So why is he right over there?’ Kimmy asked openly pointing at a cute teenage boy standing near a table that had clearly just been vacated. 

‘Kimmy!’ DJ said yanking her friend's hand down, her blush now capturing her entire face. 

‘Well whatever the motive I say good choice,’ Joey said. 

‘Here, here. Though I have to admit the idea of another one of my daughters heading out into the wide world of dating doesn’t thrill me. I mean pretty soon you’ll be just like this one,’ he said throwing his arm around the shoulder of his eldest daughter who was sitting beside him, ‘a boyfriend. Prepping for your SATs, headed off to college, right Y/N?’

Y/N didn’t respond. Her fingers were gently fiddling with the napkin in front of her and she was looking at the table seemingly unaware that ten pairs of eyes were staring at her. 

‘Y/N?’ Jesse said pulling her to reality. 

‘Huh?’ she said looking up. 

‘I was just saying how you’re all growing up,’ Danny said. 

‘Yeah, I guess,’ she said. 

‘Woah,’ Jesse said, ‘tone down your excitement. Wouldn’t want to get us kicked out.’

‘Am I meant to be excited about some overrated restaurant?’ 

‘Now come on,’ Danny said, ‘it’s DJ’s birthday don’t be a spoilsport.’ 

‘I’m not being anything,’ Y/N said bitterly.

‘You’re being a little harsh Y/N,’ Joey said.

‘It’s not my fault I didn’t even want to come tonight,’ Y/N snapped. 

‘Hey, lose the attitude,’ Danny said warningly. 

‘Or what? I won’t get to sit in this lousy restaurant that DJ only picked so she could ogle a 10th grader? What a shame,’ she said. 

‘Why we came here isn’t the point. The point is it’s your sister’s birthday and she deserves to have a nice evening. Not one ruined by you being mean and miserable,’ Danny said. 

‘Fine,’ Y/N said standing up, ‘I’ll not ruin your evening anymore.’

And then she strutted away from the table towards the restrooms leaving an awkward silence in the air. 

‘Should I?’ Becky said standing up until she felt a hand on her arm pulling her back down. Jesse. 

‘I think it’s best if we let her cool off,’ Jesse said. 

‘Yeah, Jess is right,’ Danny agreed. Jesse nodded at him. As the conversation started back up, mostly apologising to DJ, Jesse thought about his niece’s outburst. It was odd. Out of character. She was never off with her family and she and DJ were closer than anything which meant her outburst was even more strange. He decided to let it go for a minute but he was definitely going to find out what was the matter. 

 ✵✵✵

Jesse couldn’t sleep. Becky didn’t seem to be having the same dilemma as she snored lightly beside him in the bed. But he couldn’t sleep. After Y/N’s outburst, the party continued. She returned to the table with a tiny apology to her sister and dad but she still didn’t seem to be engaging in the festivities along with everyone else. They ate, drank, and even sang happy birthday to the guest of honour with the rest of the restaurant which much to DJ’s mortification included the cute bus boy. They’d headed back home stuffed, got the boys into bed and followed soon after but Jesse couldn’t drift off. After an aeon of lying there, eyes open, he decided it was fruitless to keep trying and that the only thing that was going to help was to see if Y/N was awake. 

He slipped out of the bed and padded to the door, checking to make sure he hadn't woken his wife before he headed down the stairs to the level Y/N’s room was on. The door was open when he got to it and as he peered inside he found DJ sleeping soundly in her bed but Y/N’s bed was empty. Curious, he headed down the backstairs to see if she was in the kitchen. His foot hadn’t even hit the linoleum when he heard it. 

The tones were hushed, careful not to wake anyone, but the words were definitely indicative of an argument. 

‘Is that why you got him to lie to me?’ a male voice said. Jesse crept along the kitchen floor, hovering next to the basement stairs. The back door was open and whoever it was was on the porch. 

‘I didn’t ask him to lie,’ another voice said, Y/N. 

‘Bullshit,’ the voice replied. He recognised it now. Nick. 

‘It’s true,’ she said. 

‘You’re just saying that. He blew me off because you were busy getting ready for your date,’ he sneered. 

‘I told you it was DJ’s birthday,’ she said, her voice sounding different. More delicate. Vulnerable. 

‘What kinda kid goes to Chez Rouge for their birthday,’ he spat, ‘you were on a date. Jason Carmichael saw you.’ 

‘I was with my family,’ she reasoned, ‘anyway what would it matter? We’re not a couple anymore.’ 

‘Because of one stupid kiss? I told you I was sorry,’ he said. 

‘You kissed someone else! I don’t want to date someone who cheats on me,’ she said a little louder now. Jesse’s heart was thumping. Rage was filling his whole body. That little bastard. 

‘You’re not gonna throw away everything we have because of one stupid thing,’ he said, ‘I’m not going to let you.’ 

It was followed by some grunting and a creak of the floorboards on the porch but without a visual Jesse didn’t know what was happening. Until he heard, ‘no, Nick…stop.’

‘You want this I know you do,’ Nick said quietly. Jesse whipped around the corner, pulling the door open all the way. Nick leapt backwards away from Y/N who was pressed up against the wall her arms still squashed against her as she realised she no longer needed to hold them up. 

‘Jess,’ she squeaked. 

‘You heard her,’ he said his jaw set. 

‘Jesse, man,’ Nick said rubbing the back of his neck. 

‘I’m not your man. And my niece is not your girlfriend,’ he said, ‘not if she doesn't want to be.’ 

‘We were just having a little disagreement-’ Nick started. 

‘Oh I heard enough,’ Jesse said.

‘Jesse I’m sorry,’ Y/N started. In the soft night light, he could see tears glazing over her eyes.

‘You’ve got nothing to be sorry about,’ he said with a glare at the boy on his porch before he added, ‘are you okay?’ 

‘I’m fine,’ she said though her voice was a little shaky. 

‘Then go inside,’ Jesse said. Y/N nodded, dropping her gaze so she didn’t look at the boy watching her as she slipped past her uncle and into the house. 

‘Look I’m gonna go,’ Nick said but he was stopped as Jesse grabbed the back of his collar wrenching him back so hard he hit the wall with a thud. He looked up, wide-eyed at the man looming over him. They weren’t too dissimilar in height and though he was skinny Jesse was sure that the kid could throw a punch if it came down to it. But Jesse didn’t care. 

‘Actually, you're gonna listen to me,’ Jesse said. Nick went to interrupt but Jesse didn't give him time as he said, ‘that girl in there is worth twenty of you. And I’m sorry that you don’t realise that. I know she really liked you. But you messed it up. You did it. Not her. And she’s made her decision not to keep you around. And I don’t care if you don’t like it. I don’t care if you want her back. That’s not your call. And if you ever try and make her do something that she doesn’t want to do know that I will find out. And maybe I’ll do the same to you.’ 

And before the younger boy could say anything Jesse grabbed him by the shirt and pushed him away as he walked inside the house and slammed the back door shut. Y/N was waiting for him in the kitchen, chewing nervously on the sleeve of her cardigan. 

‘Is he gone?’ she asked. Jesse nodded. 

‘Yeah, I sent him packing,’ Jesse said. Y/N nodded. 

‘Thanks, Uncle Jesse,’ she said. 

‘Anytime,’ Jesse said, ‘though I’m gonna need the full story.’ 

‘Do I have to?’ she sighed. 

‘My teenage niece is acting completely unlike herself and I find her out on the porch arguing with some guy at two am? Yeah, I think so,’ he said sitting down at the kitchen table and gesturing for her to follow. She did so, sitting on a chair beside him as she pushed her hair out of her face. 

‘He kissed someone else,’ she said.

‘That part I got,’ Jesse said. Y/N bit her lip, unsure but Jesse simply gestured for her to continue, ‘so I dumped him. But he wouldn’t let it go. He was following me all over school begging for me to get back together with him. He kept phoning the house. And I kept telling him no over and over but…’

‘He didn’t get the memo?’ Jesse said. 

‘He kept saying I was using this as an excuse. That I wanted him to kiss someone else because I wanted to date Stu Lasseter. I told him that wasn’t true but he kept saying I was..’ Y/N faded. She didn’t want to repeat the horrible things he had said to her. Not to Jesse. He’d flip she was sure of it, ‘well just not nice stuff. So that’s when I went to screening his calls. But that didn’t work. Before we went to dinner he rang and I answered accidentally. He said he knew I was going on a date and I was just lying about DJ’s dinner,’ she said. 

‘Ah,’ Jesse said, ‘is that why you were upset at dinner.’

‘Yeah,’ she nodded, ‘I was super harsh on Deej and I shouldn't have been.’

‘I’m sure she’ll understand,’ Jesse said placing his hand on her knee. 

‘I hope so. I was a horrible big sister today,’ she sighed.  The pair said nothing for a moment. Until Jesse continued. 

‘What happened then?’ he asked. 

‘He came over. He waited till you were all in bed and threw stones at my window. I couldn’t ignore him…he said he was going to wake the whole house up so I came downstairs,’ she shrugged. 

‘You should’ve come and got one of us,’ Jesse sighed, ‘do you know how dangerous it could’ve been?’

‘I know,’ she said sadly, ‘I guess I just didn’t want to upset any of you.’

‘I only came down here because I couldn’t sleep from worrying about you,’ Jesse said, ‘Y/N you can try to stop us from worrying as much as you want but we’re  always going to.’ 

‘I know,’ she said, ‘sorry uncle Jesse.’ 

‘It’s okay. Just promise me one thing?’ he said. She looked up at him expectantly, ‘next time you’re going through something you’ll tell us?’ 

‘Promise,’ she said leaning in and wrapping her arms around his neck. He looped one arm around her back and pulled her to him. As she pulled back she smiled at him and said, ‘I love you Uncle Jesse.’ 

‘Love you too kiddo.’

#my writing #full house fic #jesse katsopolis #jesse katsopolis fic #full house fanfic #danny tanner #dj tanner #joey gladstone #uncle jesse #uncle jesse fic #boy trouble #requested fic #requests #requested

[k1ng0fn0b0dy]

❤ Destiny

[600+ words]

[GN!Reader]

Summary: Everyone is born with words on their wrist, words their soulmate will say to them someday. You have the words "I love you" written in golden cursive on your wrist. (Dream x Reader)

You have grown up fearing the words "I love you". When your first boyfriend says it to you for the first time, you start crying. The relationship didn't end up lasting long but in every relationship you've had, it ends not too long after they say they love you.

You can't say the words back. Not because you don't love them, you always have, but trying to force the words out of your throat only brings vile, disgusting throw-up clawing its way out of your mouth.

Nothing about that ever changed when you got into your most recent relationship. You got the same chest-squeezing fear the first time Dream said "I love you" except after hearing your explanation, he didn't leave. He promised you never to leave saying "I love you" so that you never had to be scared of something bad happening.

Until it did.

You have never trusted someone as much as you have Dream, he is a sweetheart, he cares so deeply, and he loves you in the most honest way you've ever had anyone love you. He's the first person you've ever told you loved, and he's the one you're most scared of losing.

You wanted so desperately for him not to be your soulmate, only so you never had to lose him. But life doesn't always work out that way.

You were walking home together after dining out at a local pizza place, hands swinging together as you walked. It's such a peaceful night, a full moon shining down from above.

"We should eat out more often," Dream sighed happily. "I've never had better pizza."

That was pretty true but, "You said you were going to diet with Nick," You point out. Dream groans, pouting dramatically at you. "You can't just abandon him. He needs you."

"That pizza needs me!" Dream shakes his head with a laugh. "But fine, maybe another time. When he drops it in a week, we can all go together."

You try to hide your fond smile, "You're the reason his diets don't work out."

"Oh please," Dream scoffs. He then pauses and nods, "Yeah no, that's actually pretty true. But I have helped him work out so it evens out."

You giggle at his cute pouty face. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, babe."

Dream can't even pretend to look mad, cheeks flushed at the nickname. He coughs, "I picked last time right? What movie do you wanna see today?"

"Maybe Coraline. I haven't watched it in a few months, I kinda miss the funky little clay people," Dream pouts again at your words.

"Hey, I'm the only little Clay person you need."

You press twin kisses to his freckled cheeks. "Of course, you are, babe."

You're both laughing as you walk down the street. All you can see is his face, his smile, and the way the moon bounces off his hair. Headlights light up every freckle, every strand of his stubble. There is nothing but Dream, his wide eyes, and you.

And then he's pushing you. You fall hard on your back, pushing yourself up instantly and staring, misty-eyed, at the car that's speeding past Dream's still body.

You can't remember much. You know you had started screaming only because people started pouring out onto the street. You do remember holding Dream's hand, carefully cradling his face. You were probably crying.

His eyes fluttered open for only a second and he smiled, teeth bloody, the second he saw your face. After a second of open-mouthed silence, his voice croaked out quietly. "I love you."

You don't remember anything more from the night. Dream didn't make it. You were gone soon after.

{《☆》}

[Whoops, forgot to mention it was "Last thing your soulmate says to you" AU. My bad. Anyway, Dream is my little meow meow. He might've lied about being blonde and his freckles but honestly I had no expectations (my mental image of him is still a blob, ngl).]

[Tell me any other sad prompts you have, I might end up writing them, who knows :)]

[L0v3, k1ng]

Masterlist

Taglist: @creatorofstars @hiwhatsupbruv

#x reader #x male reader #mcyt x reader #dsmp x reader #mcyt x y/n #mcyt x you #mcyt x male reader #dsmp x male reader #x nonbinary reader #dreamwastaken #dream x you #dream x male reader #dream x reader #dream #i felt in some kind of mood after the face reveal #i want him to suffer every kind of pain because i love him <3

[repurpose-yourself]

Santa's Objectified Helpers 2 (5/7)

"You're a homewrecker."

Eduardo laughed, "I guess you could call me that. Though fuck-boy is probably a better term."

Chris sat at his desk, boots propped up and looking at Eduardo, "This is no laughing matter."

"Oh, it's a laughing matter," Eduardo shot back, turning away from the frosty windows and looking at Chris, "Up until 10 minutes I didn't think you were real. So why don't you say what you need to say and let me get on with my life."

Santa dug his toes into his boot insoles; the former humans granted life beneath the jolly man's feet a few years ago winced in the process. Chris dropped his feet on the floor and leaned forward.

"I'll do more than just talk," Chris retorted.

Eduardo clenched his fists, "Is that a threat?!"

"You're welcome to take it any way you would like," Chris responded.

Eduardo lunged towards Saint Nick, covering a few yards of the large office before a quick finger snap halted his movement. Chris stood and walked up to Eduardo, who remained motionless.

"Don't tempt fate against something you know nothing about," Chris remarked pointedly, "Your time as a... 'fuck-boy' ends now. And there's only one way I can see that fits as punishment."

Chris snapped his fingers, letting Eduardo fall to the floor and pass out...

***

Cesar looked down at the palm of his hand and shed a few tears. A wedding ring meant to signify his love towards his ex-wife rested in the middle. It held much meaning to Cesar but the days of happiness, at least for now, were gone.

"I want to hate her. I want to scream from the rooftops how much she ruined my life," Cesar said to himself, "But that's not the right way to cope. And maybe what I am about to do now isn't either. It will at least close this chapter in my life, though."

Eduardo looked up at Cesar and felt a wave of anxiety take over. Seeing the man larger than life and seemingly holding onto Eduardo with ease terrified the former individual. Not only the warmth of Cesar's hand could be felt; the air around the two was hot and humid. Loud noises echoed throughout the building. Eduardo was thoroughly confused by the situation.

'What the fuck is happening?!' Eduardo screamed internally.

"Fitting, isn't it? The homewrecker becomes the very symbol of commitment. Being a wedding ring is a nice change of pace, isn't it Eduardo?" Chris' voice asked.

'What?! No! I don't want to be a wedding ring! I want to be a man again! Get me away from this fucker!' Eduardo yelled.

"It's a little late for that. But don't worry, you won't be in Cesar's company for much longer. I know how much it upsets you being around the man whose life you ruined with your sexual escapades," Chris said, before his voice faded away.

'What does that mean?!' Eduardo cried.

"I loved you with all my heart," Cesar said quietly, holding the ring out before his body, "But it is time to move on."

Eduardo finally saw the source of the loud noises.

'Is this a factory... for metal? Ah, what do they call it? A foundry?' the former human questioned to itself, before a sinking realization set in, 'A foundry... Oh no!'

Cesar had been standing on a platform which elevated him high above a vat of molten iron. Eduardo looked down, seeing red hot liquid bubbling below. The grieving ex-husband fumbled with the living ring a few times, really considering his next move. The former human pleaded internally, begging to be spared once Eduardo realized what was about to happen.

But with no outlet to cry for help, Cesar was unaware of the life held within the ring that represented terrible memories. Taking a deep breath, the worker simply released his grip on the piece of metal and allowed it to fall into the vat of iron.

Eduardo screamed mentally the whole way down until landing in the thick liquid. Fire immediately accompanied the impact, consuming the living wedding ring. Immense temperatures ate away at the vulnerable metal. Eduardo's last sight was Cesar looking down, a man who unknowingly got revenge on the homewrecker...

#inanimate object #inanimate tf #inanimate transformation #revenge tf #unaware tf #nonconsensual tf

[rosemaryreaper]

Minutemen Danse and Haylen? Sure, definitely.

But at what cost?

At what cost…

(Slightly spoilery WIP sneaky peak. Content warning for a panic attack and brief emetophobia.)

* * * *

That was all it took: the last metaphorical blow against the fractured wall of the dam. All at once, the weight of the world came crashing down.

Then Haylen was on her knees, dry heaving into the grass. Something touched her back, and she took a swing at it. But then the world wobbled—or maybe just her—and she made a noise like a dying animal and threw up for real. Her body spasmed, the bile hot in her throat and bitter on her tongue. The something grabbed her again and pulled her onto her backside and dragged a cloth against her mouth, all while she was saying, “No, no, no, no,” but her mouth wasn’t quite making those sounds, so she kicked and thrashed and punched until the something released her and she flopped onto her back on the ground.

A million miles underwater, a voice was saying, “Breathe. Haylen, sweetheart, breathe,” which was stupid because her chest was constricting tight enough to squeeze all her organs up into her head and out her ears. Or maybe she would vomit them up as one big bloody mess. She didn’t care which happened as long as one of them made it stop.

Which was also stupid because she knew what was happening. She’d seen it in the knights who woke up screaming, the initiates whose hands shook too hard to hold their guns, the paladins who begged her through tears not to tell—not to fill out that damn report. She’d stayed with them all—talked down the ones she could, sedated the ones she couldn’t. She’d held their hand if they’d needed it. And she’d filled out that damn report: unfit for duty. Usually temporarily. Sometimes permanently. It had been a kindness.

Like a bullet between the eyes of a wounded doe.

She was sobbing. It took her a while to recognize the sound. Even longer to recognize it as coming from her. Still a million miles away, Delaney kept repeating, “You’re okay. You’re okay,” which was so untrue Haylen wanted to take a swing at her again. She was not okay. She was not okay.

Something cold and wet snuffled against her hand. She flinched when the sensation turned slimy, dragging along her skin.

A warm weight settled over Haylen’s pathetic shuddering, sobbing body, draping from her thighs across to her shoulder. It put a pressure on her tight chest that made it harder to shudder and sob. A different heart beat over her own. A different breath heaved at a different time. She wrapped her arms around the weight; ran her fingers through its fur. Dogmeat’s heavy sigh brushed her cheek as he wiggled comfortably into place.

She didn’t know how much time passed before she came back to herself—before she felt the prickle of the grass beneath her head or the chill of the breeze on her wet face. She didn’t know when her body returned to a form vaguely reminiscent of solid, no longer in danger of unraveling like the entrails of some poor gutted creature. It was around the same time her ears came up from the water to hear Delaney’s attempts at soft, soothing sounds, which embarrassed Haylen as much as they helped. However much time had passed, it couldn’t have been quick.

The change must’ve been visible, because Delaney eventually concluded Haylen was coherent enough to speak—or at least listen without throwing a punch. As gently as possible, the General said, “I’m going to get Danse.”

Haylen made a noise in her throat that threatened the immediate return of hysterics. “Danse hates me.”

“No. No, honey, he would never.”

“He does. You didn’t hear him. I destroyed everything.” She resumed crying. Or maybe she had never stopped. It didn’t particularly matter.

“No,” Delaney said. “He was upset. He doesn’t hate you. He loves you too much to even consider it.”

“No, no.”

“Yes. You’re practically his little sister. Nick had to hold him back from charging before the firing squad himself to save you. The worst you did was scare him half to death, and that wasn’t your fault.”

Haylen was too busy sniffling to reply. Dogmeat licked her cheek, which was gross. She hugged him tighter.

Delaney continued, “Danse has a lot going on. Not all of it has to do with you. I’d wager most of it doesn’t. He’s been alone in that bunker two years now. We’ve given him time, we’ve given him space. He’s had more than enough. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, I swear I’ll march in there and drag him out—by the crotch of his power armor if I have to. I’m his friend, but you’re his team. There’s a lot both of you need to process, and you’ll do it better together.”

Haylen took a shaky breath. She was afraid to move. Afraid to close her eyes. Afraid to sleep. But most of all— “I don’t want to be alone.”

“You won’t be,” Delaney said. “I’m going to make sure of it. As soon as you feel well enough to stand, we’re going to see Curie, all right? She’ll look after you while I get Danse—same as she looks after me or Ros or Cait. All right?”

The implication was almost more terrifying than the predicament. But it was the “almost” that made Haylen whisper, “All right.”

Delaney exhaled in relief, and Haylen knew she had noticed the “almost” too. “We’ll make this better, honey. I know I can’t fix it. I know I owe you more than I can ever repay, and I’m so sorry. I’m so, so sorry. We’re going to make this better, I promise.”

Haylen didn’t have a response to this, since she very much wanted to stop crying now. So, she held Dogmeat and breathed until she felt brave enough to sit up without falling right back down. With time, sitting led to standing. Standing, eventually, led to walking, if unsteadily. Delaney wrapped an arm around her shoulders, holding her up. Dogmeat stayed glued to her leg.

With more time, they stumbled their way to the clinic. Too focused on moving one heavy foot in front of the other, Haylen lost track of the minutes again. She didn’t care to pay attention to much of anything until walking and standing led back to sitting, and suddenly there was a hospital bed beneath her. She blinked at Delaney, who had somehow let go of her, and at Curie, who had somehow materialized to wipe her face with a cloth. The phrase “panic attack” got said. Haylen tuned the rest out. It wasn’t that she was underwater anymore; she was just too damn tired to translate the sounds into comprehension. More accurately, the “almost” made her too scared to.

A pill capsule got placed in her palm. She accepted the accompanying water automatically. She knew this part. She was used to being on the other side of it.

She downed the pill with the water. Fingers traced the hair alongside her ear. Arms lowered her onto the bed. She still didn’t want to close her eyes.

She didn’t have a choice. Down she went, like a bullet to the head.

It was a kindness.

#you can guess some of the context but the poor girl does not go through a good time in this fic #A Lot Happens #there will be a happy ending though #just after the PAIN #fallout 4 #fallout 4 fanfic #rosemary reaper #scribe haylen #sole survivor #nora delaney #paladin danse

[megalony]

Safe in my arms

Here is another Rafael Barba imagine that I really enjoyed writing and I am happy to be back into my writing again, any requests please send them in.

Taglist: @lunaticspoem @butlegendsneverdie​ @langdonzvoid @jennyggggrrr​ @rogmeddows @radiob-l-a-hblah @rogertaylorsbitontheside @chlobo6​ @rogertaylors-lipgloss​ @sj-thefan​ @omgitsearly​ @luckytrashgooprebel​ @scarsout​ @deaky-with-a-c​ @killer-queen-ofrhye @bluutac​ @vousmemanqueez-blog​ @jonesyaddiction​ @ambi-and-sunflowers @milanosaurus @httpfandxms​ @saint-hardy​ @7-seas-of-fat-bottomed-girls​ @mrsalwayswritex​ @rogerina-owns-me @hellsdragon​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @crazylittlethingg​ @allauraleigh @onceuponadetectivedemigod​ @ceres27​ @thereisa8ella​ @qardasngan​​

Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) ends up taking her and Rafael’s daughter to court but things go south when guns are fired and she is taken hostage.

Enjoy.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"You ready to head to court, we got half an hour before trial starts." Tapping his hand down on the desk, Nick slung his jacket over his shoulder as (Y/n) hooked her badge onto the waistband of her trousers.

Tiredness washed over (Y/n)'s face and burned her eyes but she pushed the constant feeling away as she nodded. Trials were a part of the job and even though as cops, they didn't have to be there, each of them always made sure they were at a victim's trial. They were there to offer support and make sure that a verdict could be given, they wanted to see if justice was given to their victims and support them through the process.

The only good thing about going to court was that (Y/n) could see Rafael and she could see him in action. At home, he was a completely different person, in the office he was all smirks and confidence. But when he was in the courtroom, everyone- even the defence, were enamoured. The way Rafael would throw evidence and comments, the way he would push and push and covert the defendant into confessing or give away evidence that would put them away.

(Y/n) just wanted to watch Rafael all day, she would sit in on all of his court appearances if she could.

"Yeah let's go."

"Mamma!"

(Y/n)'s head snapped to the right, feeling her stomach tense when that unmissable voice reached her ears. A swelling of anxiety pooled in (Y/n)'s chest like she had swallowed a rock when her eyes landed on Isabela trotting over to her with her arms out. Her vibrant green eyes reminded (Y/n) of Rafael and whenever she smiled she resembled her father too.

"Baby, what are you doing here?"

The moment Isabela scuttled over to (Y/n) she reached down and scooped her up into her arms, holding her five-year-old to her chest, settling her on her hip before she looked around the office. Where was Jane? She was their babysitter who should have taken Isabela straight home when she picked her up from school. Isabela shouldn't have been brought here, (Y/n) never wanted her here at the precinct, there were murders, rapists and terrorised victims in here.

This was no place for a child to be, if she ever wanted to be at her parent's place of work she should be at the office with Rafael. It was a calm and safer environment there for Isabela, she knew Rafael's colleagues and they all loved her there.

"Janey was sick downstairs, she said to come find you."

(Y/n) sucked in a very deep breath, her eyes locking with Nick as a desperate look passed between them. (Y/n) couldn't take Isabela into court, she didn't need to hear what had happened to their victim and get upset or worried. She would focus on Rafael and what he would say wasn't exactly something a five-year-old would need to hear.

"Why don't you go get a chocolate from the vending machine baby?" Setting Isabela down, (Y/n) handed her some change, keeping her eyes on her girl before she looked over at Nick.

"Uh, maybe Rollins could watch her until after court?" Nick scratched the back of his head, trying to think of a quick solution. The last thing they wanted was to take her with them somewhere she shouldn't really be.

"No, I'll bring her with us and call Rafa's mum and see if she can come get her at court... she's diabetic, I- I can't leave her with someone she doesn't know if she has a low blood sugar." (Y/n) didn't want to seem rude or picky and Nick could see that. But she couldn't leave Isabela with just anyone, whether they were friends or not. It had to be someone who knew what to do if she had low or high blood sugar levels and who could notice the signs of when it was severe and could calm her down.

"Sure, let's take her for a spin in a cop car."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Is papa here? I wanna see papa." Isabela tugged on (Y/n)'s hand, her backpack bouncing up and down with her eager excitement as she walked up the steps to the courthouse. Turning her head to the side with her brunette curls bouncing on her shoulders, she reached over and took Nick's hand as if he were the child she needed to guide up the steps.

"He'll come and see you before he has to get to work baby- oh, it's your nana, stay with Nick for a minute please."

Isabela nodded, bouncing on her heels as she pulled Nick up the stairs, desperate to find Rafael since she hadn't seen him since last night. He had been working late and leaving early, he had kissed her goodnight last night when she was drowsy and she was desperate to see him now before she went with her nana for a few hours.

"Do you know my papa?" Her big emerald eyes looked up at Nick who smiled down at the happy girl clinging to his hand.

"I do, he's good at his job, your papa."

"He brings me to his office, I'm his Pequeña Querido." The bubbling joy in Isabela's voice made Nick smile brightly. It didn't surprise him that Barba would call her his 'little darling' it seemed rather like him. And it was lovely to see how proud and happy Isabela was about it.

Once they got inside the courthouse, Nick gently tugged Isabela to stand at the side out the way of everyone. Rafael would come over once someone went to tell him they were here and then the girls could see him before everyone got back to work and Isabela went back home.

"Oh I bet he does, let's go find him before he has to prepare for his work." Nick could see everyone was busy and time was ticking by, it would be easier for them to go and find Rafael instead of waiting to ask someone to go and get him for them.

Isabela swung Nick's hand with her own before she tugged for him to hurry up when she saw (Y/n) walking into the courthouse, knowing she would catch them up. She wanted to go and find her dad and surprise him quickly before he had to work. There was no doubt that Isabela was a daddy's girl and she had Rafael wrapped around her little finger, she needed to see him, she was too eager to see him and didn't want to leave without getting a hug from him first.

"Come on, mamma come on I want papa!"

"I'll go get him for you, I need to find someone anyway." Nick winked down at the little girl, letting her take (Y/n)'s hand before he hurried in front of them. He could see their witness down the corridor and he needed to check she was alright so he could give Rafael the head's up anyway.

"No, no I want to get papa first." The excitement was bursting through Isabela's veins and radiating off of her as she let go of (Y/n)'s hand to start running after Nick.

"Baby no- come here."

Reaching her hand out (Y/n) hurried to grab Isabela again, she couldn't be running around here when people were busy, anxious, frightened and annoyed trying to get bad days over with. There were too many people around for her to bump into as well. Just as (Y/n) grabbed her daughter's hand, her ears caught sound of a commotion beginning to happen.

Her head turned but she wasn't quick enough to move before a stranger was barging into her side, knocking her off balance and causing her to tug Isabela with her, sending the little girl to her knees.

"Hey! Police, where are you going?" Moving her blazer jacket when she helped Isabela to her feet, (Y/n) tilted her hip forward to show her badge to the man who had stopped at her sharp voice.

Narrowing her eyes, (Y/n) studied the man for a few seconds, his eyes were rabid, his breaths were quick and his body was shaking. (Y/n) didn't recognise him, he wasn't anything to do with Rafael's trial but something about him was off. Then she spotted it. The odd bulging shape in his side pocket that matched the shape of the gun on (Y/n)'s left hip in her holster.

Her arm slowly reached out and pushed Isabela behind her who knew better than to say anything when her mother was in a careful, tense mode like this.

"Sir, put your hands up where I can see them." (Y/n) rested her hand on her gun but she felt her stomach tensing.

The seconds seemed to whiz by and disappear into oblivion, one moment (Y/n) was watching him move his hands, the next moment they had guns pointed at each other and the stranger was trying to tackle her down.

A gasp mixed with a groan escaped (Y/n)'s lips when the barrel of the man's gun smashed down against her cheek and sliced against her nose. Blood spurted from her nose and trickled down her throat chocking her as she stumbled to the side before going down on the floor when the gun slammed into her stomach. The wind left her system and her body crumpled down at the same time as she tried to build herself back up.

(Y/n)'s vision blurred but she couldn't hear herself screaming when Isabela was in the man's grasp being dragged along with him as he tried to rush.

The sound of gunshots filled the air as (Y/n) pushed her jelly legs to get her up and forced the tears out of her eyes to clear her vision and lock her sights on her baby girl. All she could see was Isabela, her sight had turned to tunnel vision when her heart stammered, fearing for one dreaded second that it was her girl that had been shot.

It was a gut wrenching, horrible thought to be relieved that it was someone else who had taken the bullet but (Y/n) couldn't help but thank the Lord that it wasn't her Isabela that had gotten a bullet and dropped down like a swatted fly.

"(Y/l/n)?!"

"(Y/n)- Mi amour, hey, look at me are you okay?" Rafael's hands grasped (Y/n)'s arm and shoulder, pulling her against him but he leaned so their faces were almost touching. He had heard the shots and seeing his wife stagger to get to her feet made him tremor at the thought it had been her that had gotten shot.

His hand briefly touched (Y/n)'s cheek as he tried to get his breaths back but the way (Y/n) started to hit him and push him made him want to cry. What was she doing, why was she suddenly raging in his arms like he was attacking her or trying to put her in the line of fire. His eyes gazed around for Nick who had shouted to them but he was with witnesses.

Rafael wrapped his arm tighter around his wife and pressed his hand to her cheek, tilting her head as he tried to make sense of her mumbling.

"H-he's got her- he has Isabela!" The urgency in (Y/n)'s voice rattled Rafael to his core and sent his heart pulsating in his chest as if he were suffering a heart attack.

Not his baby girl.

No one had his girl in danger, she should be with Jane safe at home watching a movie and demanding that he and (Y/n) hurry up and come home to her like the little loveable diva she was. She was not here in court when gunshots were in the air, she was not a hostage or hurt or being dragged away somewhere. Rafael always did whatever he could to make sure she was safe and unharmed, she was his girl, he had to keep her safe.

This time when (Y/n) flung her arms out, Rafael let her go but he was trailing on her heels. His blazer swung out at his sides in the swift air passing by them like a bird spreading their wings and his tie took flight too as he ran as fast as he ever had. Not knowing whereabouts they were heading but he knew he had to find his Pequeña Querido.

The couple thanked the Lord that the man hadn't managed to escape the courthouse and get out into the street where he could easily have robbed a car and taken flight with their girl. He was surrounded by frightened onlookers, scared witnesses and two members of security had guns aimed at him but they couldn't shoot because of the hostage he had taken.

Isabela's frightened eyes locked onto Rafael's before a blubbering cry escaped her chapped lips. Her eyes were puffy and enlarged, her little body was trembling badly and little whimpers and sobs were leaving her lips like a broken record on repeat.

Rafael had seen her cry many times, he held her when she cried about falling and scraping her knee. He shushed and cooed her when she cried from having her bloods taken or her injections for her insulin. He peppered her with kisses and wiped each tear from her face. He would walk the length of the house late at night with her in his arms when she had a nightmare, he would sing her songs in Spanish and call her all sorts of little nicknames that were only for her.

He would bring her to his office and show off his little gem, the light of his world who took everyone by storm and resembled him in almost every way.

But he didn't expect to be seeing her sobbing her heart out because of a bad man holding her back and pointing a gun at her temple.

"Papa?" Her broken voice made tears well in Rafael's eyes and he couldn't help the one tear that fell down his cheek before he gained back his composure that was so close to breaking. He was an ADA, he always gained composure, he kept his cool, he didn't attack or shout or rage at anyone because he wasn't allowed.

This was different.

How could he not shout threats and cries at the man who was close to harming his baby girl?

"Shh Querido, just look at me and me only. I'm right here." Rafael pointed to his eyes until he knew she was staring into his deep eyes. He held his hand out in her direction, a calming sign for her to stay as still as she could and not try to move or break free. They needed him to let her go, not her to try and fight her way out of his hold.

"Let her go. You can't get out of here, there's no exit and no one will press charges if you let her come over to us."

(Y/n) aimed her gun down before she tried to advance towards them but he shook his head, pulling Isabela back a few paces causing her to cry out. In any other circumstance (Y/n) would have put her gun away or put it down on the floor to gain the suspect's trust and show she wouldn't hurt him. But this was her daughter that was the hostage and (Y/n) needed the gun to shoot him if he did anything rash.

"The judge will go easy on you if you let her go."

"Shut up!" The man aimed his gun at Rafael to further prove his point before the gun back at Isabela's head causing a heart-breaking whimper to leave her trembling lips. But staying quiet wasn't one of Rafael's strong points, even in a situation like this.

"You've shot two civilians already, if they live there's no murder charge on your rap sheet and if you let her go no hostage situation will be added either. Let her go and you're looking at a short time serve."

The man clearly wasn't shooting to kill, he had shot two people out of panic and reflex so attempted murder wouldn't be on his charge sheet. But if one of them died that would be manslaughter and taking a hostage if he didn't give Isabela over to them very soon. But if he did Rafael and (Y/n) wouldn't press charges to keep her safe and if she was unharmed they would just want to get past this point. They needed her back in their arms out of harms way.

"Shut up! You all back off, let me leave out that door, then you might get her back. Now we're going for a walk."

His rapid eyes scanning around showed he hadn't planned any of this and what he thought was going to happen today had gone a completely different way. But he was trying to get himself out of this mess and taking their offer was his best route but he didn't want to, he still thought he could get out of this mess somehow.

"Now you don't want to do that-"

"Papa?"

"Eyes on me Querido, it's all gonna be fine I promise. Eyes on me." Rafael turned his attention back to his little girl before his eyes differed between them both. Her puppy eyes were watching him as she struggled to jiggle around with the man's arm around her waist and the firm feeling of the gun pressed to the left side of her head.

"No more talking, we're going."

"Don't do this it won't work out for you-"

"Papa! I- I want my papa, please!" A loud and ear-piercing wail followed her screeching words that were going to be imprinted on Rafael's mind for as long as he lived.

He hated the way his little girl writhed around, tipping her head back to wail and scream for him and he didn't dare run over to her in case it got her shot or hurt or pulled further away from him. He just wanted to throw the man to the ground and take his girl in his arms and disappear with her and his wife. She shouldn't even be here.

"Baby no, please don't move." (Y/n) held her hands out near Isabela, a pleading look on her face that was wet with tears when she saw her girl struggling, trying to break free and reach them.

As the stranger started to tug her back, his head turned in each direction to check where everyone was and make sure they were moving out the way.

It was the only chance they had of advancing before he either shot Isabela, hurt her or make a break with her in his arms. (Y/n) knew it wasn't protocol and Rafael didn't know what he was doing or what came over him but they both knew that their girl was more important and taking risks was what they had to do than follow the rules right now.

When his head was turned (Y/n) took a big risk and unleashed a bullet into his elbow of the arm that was holding the gun. She knew his reflex would be to let go of the gun as his hand would spasm, no one would clench their hand when their joint had been split by a bullet. The moment she fired in his elbow she shot another round directly into his shoulder before she took a lunge.

Rafael barely saw (Y/n) aiming to take the stranger before his side was bashing into the man and his arms were cocooning safely around his little girl. He wasted no time in scooping her up, one hand holding the back of her head that was tucked into his chest with his other arm around her legs to keep her secure.

His feet moved without command, taking him in the direction the stranger had previously been heading towards until he was at the emergency exit doors that led outside the courthouse onto the steps. Rafael knew (Y/n) could handle herself and she shot the man, with two other security guards there she wasn't in danger when the man was already pinned on the floor.

He had to get Isabela out of the situation.

The fresh air hit him like a wall slamming down onto his frame and it shocked his lungs but it was a sign they were out and they were safe.

He took in a very deep breath before moving his legs of stone to sit himself down on the steps. His knees bent up and Isabela's legs curled around his hips, her small body shaking in his arms causing his chest to jitter from the feeling. Rafael slowly smoothed his fingers through her brunette locks, kissing her temple repeatedly as if he had to kiss her or else he would die. His other hand rubbed up and down her back as he tried to control himself and gain his usual fatherly, ADA composure.

"Mi pequeña Querido... shh, I've got you and you're safe I promise baby."

Rafael slowly started rocking them back and forth like he used to do when she was a baby and she was being fussy. He would sit in the rocking chair with her in his arms for hours into the night, sometimes with a case file by his side and he would go over his preparations, his questions, all with Isabela laid on his chest.

"Papa..." Isabela didn't know what she was trying to say or ask but Rafael seemed to understand anyway. His arms tightened around her tucking her more into his chest as he felt her small feeble hands gripping his shirt until her knuckles must have ached. He could feel her tears and runny nose soaking into his shirt but he didn't care.

"Papa's here, you're safe and not going anywhere. We'll get you a chocolate bar and a drink for your sugar then we'll get you home with me and mamma."

Rafael knew with all that had happened her blood sugar would be lower than the floor right now and if they didn't get her levels balanced out it would be another trip to the ER which Isabela didn't need right now. She hadn't been hurt, she'd been mentally scarred and petrified, they needed to get her levels balanced and then safely home.

The hand that rested on Rafael's shoulder made his stomach spark and his insides melt like hot chocolate before his head turned to see (Y/n) shakily sit down on the step beside him. No words passed between them as (Y/n) curled her arms around his waist and Isabela's back and her chin perched on her husband's shoulder.

(Y/n) could feel her heartbeat in every point of her body, her skin was vibrating with how fast it was beating and her body was trembling with adrenaline that had nowhere to go but through her body three times over.

Her husband's arm around her back made her feel calmer and when his lips pressed to her own she could feel herself becoming lightheaded.

That was the first time they had come close to losing Isabela or having anything bad happen to her and they didn't want to feel like that again.

It was as if he had read her mind and the silent look that passed between them showed they were thinking the same. But the deep emotions in Rafael's eyes showed that he was taking charge. He was going to look after them both and make sure they were all going to be fine.

"It's over, my girls are safe in my arms."

#rafael barba #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba x you #rafael barba imagine #rafael barba one shot #rafa x reader #imagine #dad! rafael barba #law and order #law and order svu

[phasesofpencils]

Ok so one more post i wanna say to the rise fandom, and forgive me if i get something wrong I've only been here for 2 weeks.

1) Remain CAUTIOUSLY optimistic! Keep your expectations in check. Hope for the best but don't expect much, if something does come of this I'd imagine it might take longer than a week to hear any definitive news on the fate of the show, good or bad. I'd give it a month and that might still be a little early.

2) i know we all want the show on Netflix, damn I do paramount sucks, but there's probably some legal hoops they'd have to go through to make that happen if they even could. Paramount is now officially Nick's hosting service for their shows for streaming. Pretty sure the only reason Netflix got the exclusive rights for the movie was because at the time of development i don't think paramount plus even existed yet. Now that it does, and it's the only legal place to watch season 2 (in the US) if we get more seasons i think its more likely it'll be on Paramount.

3) if the show does get renewed expect at least about a year for it to return or to get trailers. I know we got boards out there but idk how far into development they got on those deleted episodes. I also don't know like who has like custody of those boards ya know? I imagine Nick but i also feel like the artist who worked on those boards have been releasing them i think? Either way the point is those episodes aren't finished. And the show has been on pause for like what, 2 years right? It would be pretty difficult to get everyone back. I garuntee a large number of the people involved have moved onto other projects and don't have the time to return to the show. Plus what was already developed might still need to be edited or cut due to the sudden change in dynamic at the end of the season 2 finale (mostly leo being dubbed the leader)

4) who is this man??? (/srs /lh)

And why does it seem like we're taking his word as gospel on the fate of this show? Unless I'm getting people confused here, Everyone seemed to be talking about him talking about the show. So much so i assumed he was one of the creators, but i looked into it and he's not? Idk i kinda just glanced at his info but it seemed like the only involvement he had in Rise was creating a calendar (?) And i think creating the krangified challenge? I even asked my friend who got me into the show who was following it when it was airing and even they don't know who he is. Genuinely who is this person, just let me know if he's even a credible or reliable source. Cus unless it's coming right from the creators themselves im not convinced.

5) last thing. Please do not harrass people about the show! I've seen people try and pressure at least one youtube reviewer into reviewing it like he was the only thing standing in the way of season 3 like Nick was holding thw show at gun point til he reviewed it. (Not like that dramatic but also i don't think its going to make that much of a difference. Pretty sure these studios don't look at who's reviewing their show unless they're trying to copyright strike them) and please don't bug the people who were with or on the show. They probably can't tell you anything anyways cus ya know NDAs are a thing. Just please be civil 🙏 (but the Nick and Maybe Netflix and Paramount that's fine probably. It is always morally correct to bully corporations /hj)

#rottmnt #save rottmnt #just please be civil and realistic about this is the main take away #I know we're excited and antsy but just dont take things too far

[ussgallifrey]

(She Moves With) Shameless Wonder | 19

✦ Summary: Your badge clearly said SHIELD consultant, so you weren’t entirely sure where Fury was getting this whole make you an Avenger idea from. But you had a feeling it might have something to do with the recent discovery of an artifact at the bottom of the Arctic Sea.

✦ Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female Reader

✦ Warnings: Canon divergence, language, mentions of WWII.

✦ Word Count: 5.4k

✦ Playlist: Here

✦ Author’s Note: And now we officially enter the Age of Ultron arc. This section of the story will be experiencing some of the biggest changes to the canon as I try to fix the mess that was the second Avengers movie.

[Master List]

The work you did was strictly off the books, so to speak. After the fall of SHIELD, you quickly disappeared into the shadows - much like the infamous ghost of a man who had been used like a puppet by the infernal organization that had grown within the once trusted global security organization.

Humans were used to that from you, though. Unlike the flash and fantastic showboating of Tony and his suits, or the iconic alter-persona of Dr. Banner, you were just in the background. You rarely appeared on newsreels after the Battle of New York, three years prior. And only a few glimpses of your person were to be shared in the aftermath of the Triskelion disaster. 

No, you preferred it this way. So similar to the way you used to exist within these mortal confines on Earth.

Nick Fury had changed that aspect of your life once the trickster god seemed fit to cause chaos in the human realm. You enjoyed the anonymity of your previous existence and it was one you were more than eager to return to - especially when said ex-Director requested your help in dismantling the old regimes of HYDRA.

When Agent Carter dropped the entirety of SHIELD’s files onto the internet, far more than what should have ever been buried was recovered. Maybe it was a sense of guilt - knowing you had participated in years of the organization without noticing this evil growth from within - that sent you on trail after trail. 

Like connecting points on a spiderweb, the bases and old headquarters appeared from within their dusty tombs, encrypted evidence falling to the wayside in the aftermath.

Warsaw is one more checkpoint on the seemingly never-ending list of missions. Deep within the depths of the Political Science and International Studies building, lost behind fake walls and hidden staircases rests yet another HYDRA remnant of post-war Europe.

The air itself is stale and stagnant from disuse. Dust floats down in an ongoing cascade within the beam of ancient overhead lights. You had suspected as much - this close to the general populace, it would have been a miracle if this place was still in operation. But still, you sweep the rooms - from the offices to the medical ward, to the holding cells. Carefully skimming through the few remaining documents left behind by the previous occupants.

You had only discovered the location of this particular bunker two weeks ago. And from there, it had been over a month since finding the vague mention of a Polish bunker within the notes of a report from a facility in Finland.

The surprisingly large underground compound must stretch beneath the entirety of the central university, so you assumed. With its twisting hallways and flickering lights that give it an all too familiar eerieness about the place. Not to mention the time it had taken you to scout out the entrance and finally calculate a time in which you could slip inside unnoticed by the students.

Nick would be content to mark another check on the list, even if this particular place gave you little information that wasn’t already common knowledge for HYDRA operations.

As you exit the ex-commander’s office at the end of the hall, a folder of possibly useful files in the crook of your arm, you come to an immediate stop when you hear the sound of muffled voices up ahead.

Pressing against the wall, craning your neck ever so slightly to try and distinguish the sound. You had observed this place for well over two weeks now and never once had you seen a single person stop at the hidden wall entrance. The amount of dust and decay within proved that you had been one of the first people to open this particular tomb. But perhaps an unknown alarm had been triggered?

Preparing yourself, as the sound of feet grows closer and the voices come to a sudden deafening silence, with a steadying breath you round the corner of the hallway and immediately have to throw your arm up to block the attack.

Sharp rounded metal meets the backside of your forearm, bouncing off of your body with a reverberating sound as the object hits the wall before being swiped up by the assailant once again.

Bringing your hands up to a defensive stance, the adrenaline rushes from your body as you stare down the three familiar faces just a few feet away.

“Steve?”

The supersoldier, with his shocked gaping mouth, slowly lowers his shield and takes a hesitant step forward - as if expecting you to vanish from sight. 

“Athena?”

Your lips break into a smile as you cross the floor to meet him halfway, eyeing the shared look that Nat and Sam share just behind the man’s back.

“Wow,” he blinks, lips curving up into a warm smile though his features are slightly obscured by the harsh lighting in the tunnel, “Are you… are you good? I wasn’t expecting to - you know,” the supersoldier gestures vaguely at your arm.

With a laugh, you say, “Come on, you know it’ll take more than that shield of yours to get me.”

He shakes his head, chuckling, “Right, right. So… still doing Fury’s work?”

Tapping the folder once, you reply, “You know it. Better question, what are you three doing in the middle of Warsaw?”

It had been nearly three months since you had last caught up with him in New York. And between Nick’s request for limited contact, you were really only able to tell him about the various locations you tackled after the fact.

At that, he glances back at his companions, looking a hint hesitant to admit, “This was one of the first places Buck was taken to after… the train.”

With a little hum of understanding, you pull back, “I’m not sure what exactly you’re expecting to find here, but I only grabbed these from the commandment’s drawers - nothing more than a collection of generals and possible locations.”

He gives a terse nod, deciding to take a look around for themselves anyway. Without another word, you return to the interior entrance of the bunker - by the concrete stairwell - to wait for your friends.

You knew that Steve had continued looking for Bucky after the events in D.C., but the few times you spoke about it together he had made very little progress. Even with the help of Tony and his access to the millions of cameras within the nation’s capital, the man had still managed to disappear without so much as a footprint left behind.

It wasn’t any wonder that Steve had turned to tracking him through the past. Who knows what little piece of information could give value to his old friend’s current whereabouts?

The four of you walk companionably through the University’s main courtyard, trying to look as inconspicuous as possible - though with Steve walking next to you, even with his baseball cap and sunglasses, it was hard not to be noticed.

He had not found whatever it was he had been searching for, apparent in the grim frown on his face as he emerged from the hidden bunker complex. It had merely been a stop between the Alps and Moscow in Bucky’s journey, he told you. Maybe there had been records at some point, but with the University basically destroyed to its foundation in the war, and the way the Nazis had departed when the Soviets came in, well… it was a miracle that any record from 1945 had survived.

“So, where are you staying?” you ask, glancing over at Sam.

He huffs, eyes flicking further over to Natasha who’s walking beside him, “Nowhere yet. And I’ve had my fair share of trying to sleep on the jet.”

The thought of the three of them crammed into the seats of a quinjet makes you smile, “Well, there’s plenty of hotels and such around here, pretty cheap too. Though, I’m sure you - ” you direct that towards Natasha, specifically, “ - probably have a good contact for that.”

She nods, typing something on her phone, “That I do.”

“And you?”

You turn to look at the man on your right-hand side, pausing at the crosswalk for the busy street along the river. He looks calm in the afternoon light, with only the faintest dusting of worry around his eyes. Steve shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels for a moment as he stares you down - a small smirk ready to form on the outer corner of his lips.

“Where am I staying, you mean?”

He nods. The crosswalk clears of traffic.

Clutching the folder to your chest, you answer, “Nick has a place for me in Old Town. Been there since the fifth. Right above a tea house.”

You can feel the heat of his body next to yours, though your arms barely even brush as you walk down the sidewalk, side-by-side. Behind you, you can hear the very muffled noise of Sam and Natasha conversing, though you can’t make out the words for the life of you as cars zoom by and more tourists pass you.

“So,” Steve’s forearm lightly collides into your own, “You’ve been in Poland since the fifth?”

You laugh, having to crane your neck slightly to get a better look at his face, “No, I’ve been in Warsaw since the fifth. I was in Lębork before that, and Koszalin before that. So… about six weeks or so?”

“What?” Sam chimes in, “Can’t use your zap zap teleport powers?”

Your features furrow for a moment, “Not since the fall of SHIELD. Thanks to Nick, Pierce got a hold of the formula they used to track my arrivals. Cosmic energy released on a small scale, but noticeable enough if you know where to look. So, I keep the journeying pretty limited these days.”

The other man gives a thoughtful ahh, looking like he wants to ask possibly more questions of you, but seems to find a reason to close his lips once again. You look over at Steve, but his own gaze seems to be pulled in the opposite direction.

Eventually, the colorful brick masonry of Old Town comes into view. Castle Square is bustling with people: tourists posing by Sigismund's Column, locals seated outside of the Italian restaurant, all set to the sound of a plinking street organ grinder somewhere nearby. 

Glancing over at two of your companions, you watch as Natasha pulls at Sam’s forearm to which he replies with a hushed okay okay. Steve seems oblivious to them as he slowly takes in the Square. You instantly feel the need to move alongside him as he squints against the radiant light from overhead.

“First time in Warsaw?”

He blinks, gaze lost in a realm known only to him as a distant voice passes his lips, “No… not my first time.”

At once, you understand in so few words. You nudge his arm with your elbow as you lean into his space.

“It took years to get it back to this. Had to rebuild everything from scratch, basically.”

He sniffs, eyes a little glassy when he asks, “When did you…?”

“April 1945. And again in ‘52, ‘65, ‘83, and ‘91. I’m probably missing a date or two, but I think that’s the gist of it. I worked at the National Museum for a year, you know,” you watch as his eyes seem to pull their focus back towards you and away from whatever long-gone memory had held his attention.

Steve turns his body towards yours, interest piqued, “Where did you work?”

With a knowing smile on your face, you look up at him, “Would you be that surprised to hear that I oversaw the Gallery of Ancient Art?”

At that, he tilts his head back and laughs.

“It’s a bit of a personal specialty,” you say with a playful curve to your lips.

“Hey! Shieldmaidens.”

You both turn towards Natasha who has a permanent smirk on her face, though there’s something else there - in her eyes. Steve gives an exasperated huff, clearly in disagreement over the given nickname.

“I’m gonna take this one,” she pulls on Sam’s arm, “and get the three of us a place to stay for the night.”

Steve presses forward, “Okay, we can catch up later - ” he smiles down at you, a hand on your shoulder as he goes to leave.

“Hey, you two go on. Looks like you were reminiscing and talking about shared interests or whatever it is you two do,” Sam grins. “I’m just carrying the bags and then I plan on passing out once she gets us a room.”

“Yeah,” Natasha agrees. “Don’t let us spoil you two catching up. It’s been, what Rogers, three months?”

The supersoldier in question coughs roughly into his fist, all of his attention focused away from you, “If you’re sure,” he says with a slightly biting tone that you’re surprised to hear.

“Positive,” Sam beams, allowing himself to be led away by the redhead.

The silence stretches between the two of you as you watch your companions walk away, disappearing into the crowd of people and down one of the first brick roads. Steve seems rigid beside you now, as he flexes his fist next to his side. You’re still not sure why there’s been a sudden change in his demeanor, but it had been three months since you’d had the chance to catch up with each other.

“So…” you start, feeling shockingly cautious as you turn towards the man next to you.

With a long exhale, Steve slowly turns towards you, “So…?”

The tea house is off the tourist path. A small sign next to the door is its only indicator of existence - though the larger sign for the pub next door seems to garner most of the attention from passersby. At the end of the entrance hall stands two sets of stairs: the keycard-locked wooden staircase that leads up to the rental apartments and the slightly curved stairs that lead down to the hidden restaurant.

Steve has to hunch his shoulders and duck his head to make it through the bottom stone archway.

The room is cave-like with its candle-lit aura. Curved archways made of light-colored bricks make up the small room. Several small petrified log tables line the outer perimeter of the chamber, with cushioned ottomans and wooden chairs dispersed evenly throughout. A luminescent counter rests along the back wall between a shelf of tea boxes and the main seating area, with antique teapots lining the wooden serving surface.

You pick the table in the far corner of the room, in a small alcove where the outline of a now bricked-up window resides. A carefully stacked bookcase rests beside the table where a long white-stick candle is already lit and waiting.

For the middle of the week, the patronage is low for the time of day. With only a group of young women occupying the table next to the stairs.

Steve takes a seat on the ottoman opposite yours, ruffling his hair with his hand after pulling his baseball cap off and tucking it away on his knee. His sunglasses remain folded on the hook of his shirt collar.

After tucking the folder away for later, you shyly meet his eyes in the low light of the room, “So… how bad is your Polish?”

He folds his hands onto the tabletop, taking a long sweeping glance around the room before answering with a genuine, “Bad. Very bad.”

With a knowing smile, you drop your elbow onto the table and stare at him - glad for the companionship once again, “If we were anywhere else in town, you’d be in luck. Almost everyone speaks English, German, or Russian here - helps with the tourists.”

His blue eyes seem to sparkle as he rests his cheek on his hand, “I’m guessing there’s a but to that?”

“However,” you smirk, “You’re very fortunate that your dearest friend is quite fluent in Polish these days.”

The blonde laughs with a warm chuckle, muttering a low, “Very lucky, indeed.”

You order for the two of you at the counter, seeing the way that Steve has turned almost fully in his seat to watch you from across the room.

Poproszę grzane wina i czarne herbatę. Och, i lawendowy sernik, you tell the server before returning to your table and immediately telling the supersoldier that he’ll just have to trust your ordering-ability and maintain a little bit of patience.

An indie rock station plays in the background as the two of you sip from your drinks - you from your mulled wine and Steve from his black tea. He had spent an inordinate amount of time looking over the painted porcelain of the cup and saucer he had been given by the waitstaff.

“So,” you begin, lowering your drink, “If you’re retracing his steps, where’s the next stop?”

His eyes flick over his cup to your face for a moment as he finishes drinking from his tea blend, carefully placing it back down on the saucer before responding.

“I don’t actually know. I was hoping we’d find the smallest lead down there, but… here we are. Square one, again.”

You make a low hum in your throat, folding your hands onto your lap as you watch a new group descend the stairs in search of their own table.

“And I assume there have been no sightings since…?”

Steve gives a shake of his head, eyes pressed closed.

“I’m sorry, for what it’s worth.”

You reach across the small table to squeeze his free hand and his eyes blink back open. His thumb is calloused and warm as it rubs over the back of your hand.

“Thanks,” he ducks his head for a second, cheeks pink from the heat of his drink. “But we don’t have to talk work.”

“Okay,” you lean back in your seat, allowing your hand to slip from his grasp - if only to rest on the table just a breath away from his own. “How’s living with the resident playboy billionaire then?”

Steve huffs into his drink, a smile spreading to his face though he tries to hide it behind his cup, “Surprisingly good?”

Your brows raise in their own volition, “Really?”

He nods as you take a long sip from your wine.

“Mostly stays down in his lab, so not a bad roommate. Bruce is around a lot. Sometimes Clint or Nat. It’s a little… modern for my taste. But, I can’t beat the gym he has set up. Have you ever seen the training rooms there?”

“Once,” you admit, eyeing the lavender cheesecake that the waitress brings over to your table. You wait for her to leave before prodding, “So, are you still looking for your own place in the city or…?”

With a lackluster shrug on his part, “I don’t know. A place in Brooklyn is worth more than I’m willing to spend. And, I hate to say it, but it’s not all that bad living at the Tower.”

Scooping a piece of the dessert with your spoon, you can’t help but let out a small moan of satisfaction as the flavor hits your tongue. You miss the way that Steve’s eyes flash and darken all at once.

“Mmm,” you swallow, offering a sheepish smile, “There’s nothing wrong with that though, Rogers. Probably good for you to be around people like that. Well… maybe not Tony necessarily.”

He chuckles, watching you with a comfortable look on his face - golden light from the candle making his features appear more rugged than usual, “Think I could ever convince you to get a room there?”

Your spoon freezes halfway to your mouth as the words hit you.

“Are you serious? Me? Live there with you nutcases?”

The candlelight’s flickering flame dances in the depths of his ocean blue irises as he stares at you from across the table.

“Thor does.”

You blink.

Steve reiterates, “Thor. He has a room at the Tower. Comes and stays for a few weeks at a time.”

“I… I thought him and the astrophysicist were - they are, were, living together last I knew.”

It wasn’t often that the two of you conversed, you and the God of Thunder. But the last meeting, some six odd months back, he had been gushing over the good Jane Foster, and did you ever try rollerblading? He had grown quite fond of it thanks to her. 

Had so much changed since that last conversation?

“Huh,” is all you can manage, staring into the swirling reds of your mulled wine for a moment.

“Just a thought,” he says quickly, as though it had merely been a silly idea on his part and not an actual very serious suggestion. The rapid tapping of his fingers against the table makes it clear how quickly the conversation has shifted.

“So,” he breathes out in a rush, forcing a smile, “You’ve been here for a month and a half. And the other six weeks?”

Grateful for the change in topic, you eagerly begin regaling your journey from Sweden to Finland, sailing across the Baltic Sea. More bunkers and compounds and abandoned (or not so abandoned) research facilities stretching between Estonia and Lithuania. Traveling across half of Europe without your powers, you remind him.

He listens to your stories, enraptured as your drinks cool in their cups and more and more people fill the tea house.

Steve tells you about training with Natasha and following strange leads across Southern France in search of Bucky. You hear all about Sam’s new baby nephew and how he can’t stop showing them all photos on his phone every time his sister sends him one (per his request). The two of you talk and talk until you can barely hear each other over the sound of the crowd.

Placing his hat back on, though forgoing his sunglasses, Steve holds the folder for you as you collect your coat and go to pay and tip the staff.

Back in the hallway, you can hear the muffled sound of the raucous patrons from the neighboring pub. When you look down towards the front door, you can see the shop lights flickering against the darkness of the evening dusk. The two of you linger, there, in the space between.

“How long do you think you’ll be staying here?”

The supersoldier tilts his head in thought, “Maybe a day? At most.”

A sudden frown seems to find its way onto your lips and it brings with it the startling realization that you aren’t willing to say goodbye to him just yet.

It was silly, really. Nearly two thousand years on this planet, traversing the globe on your own for centuries at a time. And yet, with only three years of knowing Fury’s team, you had grown strangely attached to them all. 

It was almost painful to admit that someone like Steve Rogers had successfully fused himself into your life. Six weeks on your own, with only text messages on a burner phone shared between you and Nick, and here you were aching for the first bit of familiar human contact you came across.

And as you look at your companion, with his looming physique and soft blue eyes, you find yourself asking, “Do you, uh, wanna come up?”

Gesturing at the closed-off stairs behind you with your thumb.

Steve blinks once - twice - before slowly nodding, a smile tugging at his lips.

“Yeah,” his voice is shockingly low in its tone, “Think I have time for that.”

The rented apartment is warm and inviting with touches of older detailing throughout the small space. On the third floor of the building, up a metal spiral staircase to the fourth floor to access the slanted-ceiling bedroom. It was cramped quarters for sure if more than two people were staying there. Luckily for you, it had perfectly fit your needs for the past two weeks.

But with the hulking presence of the supersoldier suddenly there beside you, invading that already small space, things become far tighter than you realized they could ever be.

Steve lays his folded leather jacket over the back of one of the two dining chairs, watching as you slide off your boots and make for the chest of drawers under the small wall-mounted television set to deposit your folder of files at long last.

When you look back at him, it's with a sudden burst of nervousness that makes you laugh and hold out your arms, “Home sweet home.”

He gives a surmising nod, looking over the tiny kitchen in the corner of the U-shaped living area - with the staircase right dead center in the room, “It’s no Olympian temple.”

You catch the playfulness in his gaze as he slowly makes his way over to you.

“Probably for the best. Gold and glamour never really suited my taste anyway.”

“So,” he comes to a stop just a foot away from you, “How long are you staying here?”

That was a much lesser known fate, you had to admit with a shrug, “However long until Nick sends me another location to scout out.”

The huff of breath that escapes his lips sounds sour to your ears as he asks, “You plan on doing all of Fury’s work for him?”

You smooth your hand over your shirt sleeve, “Keeps me busy.”

Truth be told, you probably could have said no to the ex-Director at any given time and he would have accepted it and found another agent to fill your shoes. This job, though, did keep you busy. It kept you from thinking about Olympus and the betrayal of SHIELD. It was a single-track direction with a clear endpoint.

Was it lingering guilt still keeping you rooted in the position? All those years working for the security agency and never once clocking into the nefarious group buried in the underbelly of SHIELD.

Steve’s face softens with the quietness of your voice, offering a gentle, “Sorry. Guess we both have our own reasons for following these old paper trails, huh?”

You give him a half-smile in reply.

“Was a nice surprise seeing you down there today, actually.”

It was more than nice. It was like a breath of crisp winter air - a relieving balm on the ongoing ache of your solitude. Though the position of his body next to your presence sends your heart racing from the close proximity and the tight space of the apartment becoming an overwhelming force. You back away, to the balcony window - in need of truly fresh air.

“You know,” you gasp softly, trying to steady the flush of heat coursing through your body, “You can’t quite get a view like this back in New York.”

That makes him raise his brows with curiosity as you gesture for him to follow you with the tilting of your chin. Pushing the two-paned window open, you hop up onto the sill and tuck your feet in to hop through to the small metal balcony.

The very distant starlight is barely visible over the brightness of the city. Instead, it's the glowing golden orbs of streetlights that fill the night sky. Steve’s boots make a heavy thud as he lands next to you, resting his arms on the railing as he looks out over the cityscape. A boat horn echos off the Vistula River.

You find that you don’t mind the closeness of the supersoldier out here so much as you did inside.

“Sometimes, I miss the way the stars used to light the sky.”

He turns his head towards you but remains silent.

“Before automatic lights and gas lamps and lanterns. When the moon and stars were enough,” you explain with a distant sort of voice. “All good inventions, but… nothing beats the view of an unpolluted night sky.”

Steve’s eyes are nearly black in the low light that emits out of the window from inside the apartment. His elbow is jutted up against yours on the railing and you find yourself wanting to lean into his radiant heat - if only to stave off the chill of the evening air.

“Sometimes, I remember…” he stops for a moment and clears the hitch in his throat. “When we were taking down HYDRA bases, just the seven of us, we’d find shelter in all sorts of places. Blown-to-bits churches, abandoned barns, sometimes just a makeshift foxhole.”

He stares out over the city, but you imagine it’s not what he’s seeing in his mind’s eye.

“Never could sleep much on those nights. Just remember looking up, seeing that blanket of stars up there, and wondering how the hell something that beautiful could remain untarnished by everything going on down around us. You know?”

You meet his pointed gaze.

Staring at each other for a long silent moment, comfortable in each other’s familiar presence. Steve’s eyes flicker across your face as he suddenly turns to face you, a large warm hand reaching down to gently encircle your wrist.

“Athena…” he murmurs, lowering his head slightly as his eyes flicker down to your chin before moving back to your eyes.

There’s a beat of a moment where you think something’s happening. With the sudden closeness of his face to yours. And you almost find yourself slipping into that moment of unknown with him.

But it’s the sudden shrillness of ringing bells that makes him pull back, angrily fishing his hand into his pocket to retrieve a phone. You give him a small smile, backing up enough on the tiny balcony to give him the idea of space.

“Yeah?” he all but barks into the receiver.

You can’t make out the words from the other person, but his brows shift together as he nods, “Yeah, she’s here.”

Tilting your head in question, he continues to listen to the caller with an increasingly deeper furrow on his face.

“Mhmm, twenty minutes. Yeah. Okay. Got it. Bye.”

He presses the power button and stares at the blank screen for a long moment.

���Dare I ask?”

At the sound of your voice, he pockets the phone once again and says, “That was Nat. Tony put out the call. Thinks he has a location on Loki’s scepter finally.”

Your brows raise in surprise. 

It had been three years since the Battle of New York when the STRIKE team had supposedly taken the scepter into SHIELD’s safe hands. It had been a year since the Triskelion. Nearly nine months since Tony had started sorting through every single file and organizing an ongoing list of people and locations and terrorist groups.

“Where?”

Steve rubs his hands together, looking like he’s all but ready to leap back inside, grab his things, and go.

“Sokovia.”

You nod in understanding, “Well, you better get going then.”

His eyes widen slightly and his head quirks to the side as he looks down at you, “Could probably use another person to even out the team, you know?”

Crossing your arms over your chest, you eye him up, “Is that so?”

He shrugs, “Unless you were looking to be Fury’s loyal agent and go searching through more empty bunkers for him?”

There’s a particular teasing tone of voice there, one that you try to ignore despite the growing smile on your face.

When you throw together your duffel bag of items, tucking the latest folder on top of your belongings, Steve leads you down the stairs and out of the apartment. On the cobblestone streets of Old Town, you could pass for any other tourist couple as the man wraps his arm around your shoulders and guides you to an idling car.

At the airport, in one of the hangars, Sam and Natasha are already waiting for your arrival. The other man stifles a yawn behind his hand as the Russian smirks at your approach, pocketing her phone as she calls out.

“Hope I didn’t interrupt anything.”

Steve brushes past her, walking up the ramp of the quinjet with a brisk, “Not at all.”

You settle into the secondary seats behind Steve and Natasha - content to let the humans do the flying. Next to you, Sam is already dropping off to sleep, head lolling to the side as you fly over the border of Poland into Germany.

Every now and then, Steve turns in his seat, glancing back at you. For your part, you’re surprisingly happy to find yourself back on a real mission again after all this time. And if it meant that something as big as the scepter was finally put into the right hands, then it was a much better use of your time than running across Europe for Nick.

Offering Steve a gentle smile, you ease yourself back into the hardback chair and settle in for the next few hours of the flight back to New York City.

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#steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x reader #marvel fan fic #series: shameless wonder #my fic

[ambersock]

Sam Winchester Appreciation Week 2023 | Day 6 | Fav' moment with another character: Sam and Mary

All the things we should've said (AO3)

“Donatello's in this because of me. A police officer is dead because of me. I'm the one who let Nick go, I'm the one who…” Sam looks heavenward in anger and grief. “What was I thinking?”

Mary looks at Sam, really looks at him in a way she hasn’t since she came back.

She’d kept a distance between Sam and herself for a long time, and it was more than just the fact that she had only known him as a baby, that she was gone before he had even developed the idea of permanence. And it was more than the guilt she’s carried around with her for dooming him to years, decades, of suffering because of her deal to save John. Ever since she’d returned, Sam has treated her like the perfect mother he imagined her to be, something that she knows she couldn’t live up to, and she just couldn’t face his disappointment.

Except… she was wrong. It’s not that Sam has been projecting his ideal vision of a mother onto her. This is just how he actually sees her, as the best version of herself, even knowing all of her flaws and despite everything that’s happened to him because of her rash decisions. Because that’s how Sam sees everyone.

She wishes Sam could see himself that way, too. Even with how much time they’ve been apart for the past couple of years, with the hunting and the time she was stuck in Apocalypse World, Mary hasn’t missed the anger and the criticism hurled at Sam, people he loves lashing out at him when they’re under stress and there’s no one else to blame. She knows how she’d react if it was her on the receiving end: she’d chew them a new one. Several new ones. Maybe deck them for good measure. Dean gets that from her. But that’s not Sam; he takes on their pain, never reflecting it back, never projecting his own onto anyone else, just absorbing it all like a sponge. And when he becomes saturated, it comes out like this, turning that pain inward into self-loathing. It kills her when he does this to himself.

What Sam never gets to see is the whispered respect, awe even, amongst other hunters he’s lead. The amazement on Dean’s face when Sam makes that mental connection that everyone else missed. How Jack looks up to him. Mary’s own admiration for his uncanny ability to make everyone around him want to be better. Yet he’s focused entirely on building everyone else up while tearing himself down. It’s about damn time someone tells Sam what he needs to hear, build him up for a change, and maybe Mary has been far from an ideal mother, but this is something she can do for him.

“You gave him a chance because you felt for him… because you're a good man.”

Sam looks away in disbelief, down in self-deprecation. Mary wants so badly to get through to him, make him see that this is a strength, not a fault. She pulls out her secret weapon, the Mom Voice, the one that demands full attention and brooks no argument.

“You are.” Sam’s eyes lock onto hers and focus. “It's one of the reasons I'm so proud of you.”

The truth of it hits home, something in Sam releases its hold, and a corner of Sam’s mouth tweaks upwards in a ghost of a smile.

If Mary ever needed any reason or justification for being brought back, this would be more than enough.

#samwinchesterweek #2023

[aimwigs]

DADWIG!!!!!

another dadwig snippet from earlier in the timeline except this one is slightly less wholesome and also about parents splitting up... being a parent is not aways easy i fear

Lucy is only three, but Ludwig is pretty sure that she hates him.

Honestly, in some ways he gets it. It has to be confusing, to have your dad living at home one day and then halfway across Los Angeles the next, but he had kind of figured that she would be too young to be super affected by it. If anything, he was worried about Ryan, who’s more than halfway through kindergarten and definitely old enough to kind of understand the talk that they gave the girls about how the two of them aren’t in love anymore, which is the best oversimplification they can muster of what really happened between them.

Ryan is seemingly fine, though. She’s always been a smart, quiet kid. She seems sort of sad, which makes him feel like a horrible fucking person, but she also seems to get it— apparently, one of her friends has parents who don’t live together.

But Lucy fucking freaks out. According to QT, her behavior gets worse after he leaves, including hitting her sister over something as stupid as her putting a different show on the TV and upending her plate onto the ground because QT had the gall to put broccoli on it. This type of stuff was something they anticipated could happen; this is a huge change and they knew it might be something that the girls don’t really know how to process. Even though they both firmly believe it’ll be better for the two of them in the long run, that doesn’t change the fact that it’s difficult now.

What he doesn’t anticipate, though, is Lucy not even talking to him the first time that he has the girls over at Slime’s, where he’s staying until he can find a suitable place. She barely even looks at him.

The weird thing is, she doesn’t even seem that upset. She’s happy to run around and play with Ryan or chat away with Slime all fucking day— seriously, he’s pretty sure that kid loved him more than she loved Ludwig even before all this— but she won’t even acknowledge him.

“It’s a big fucking change. You just need to give her time,” Slime tells him. “Like did having divorced parents fucking blow sometimes? Yeah. Did I love my parents completely until the very end? Also yes. She’s a little kid. She’ll bounce back.”

It should be reassuring— QT said something similar, after all, and both of them actually are children of divorce— but he worries that maybe this will be different. What if she resents him forever? Sure, she’s too young to understand what’s really going on now but it’s not like that erases the fact that she’s going to have to grow up split between two different homes.

He figures that maybe a zoo trip will win her over. Part of Lucy’s idolization of Slime stems from their mutual love of monkeys and even though he’s busy today, she’ll surely still have a good time seeing all the animals. Plus, it’s a fun little day trip and he knows Nick and Aiden would probably both be down to go.

And maybe Lucy doesn’t seem any more focused on him than before, opting to ride around on Aiden’s shoulders all day as they zip from exhibit to exhibit but at least she’s having fun.

Things still seem off, though, and he can’t really shake that.

Ludwig decides to ask Nick who, despite only having a kid for a little over a year now, is like a superdad which is extra impressive given his equally awesome wife. It shouldn’t be surprising seeing as Nick is just someone who is generally competent in a lot of things, but he’s definitely a great fucking dad with everything you could ever need packed away in the diaper bag shoved in the bottom of the stroller he pushes around the zoo. His son sleeps inside, having worn himself out by the time they saw the dolphins.

“I wouldn’t sweat it, man. If she’s actually mad at you, I’m sure she’ll just get over it. Kids don’t hold grudges.” he tells him when he brings it up, both of them watching Aiden reading off the sign that they have posted next to the lions about their pack structure and eating habits to the girls. God, Aiden seriously needs to shave that stupid fucking mustache he’s been sporting recently.

“It’s been two weeks,” he reminds him because he’s pretty sure that’s a long fucking time for a three-year-old to hold a grudge.

Nick shrugs. “Yeah, and you fucking love her, bro. That’s what’s going to shine through in the end. She’s not even going to remember this shit when she’s older.”

It temporarily instills some confidence in him, up until he asks her what she wants for dinner in the car on the way home and she leans over to whisper into Ryan’s ear instead of replying to him directly. He didn’t know kids that young could be this fucking petty.

And then she gets into a fight at preschool the next week and QT calls him to pick her up since she has a meeting this afternoon and his schedule is generally more flexible.

He finds out when he gets there that she bit another girl because she was playing with a toy she wanted, which is usually grounds for a week's suspension but since her teachers are generally aware of her circumstances, they’re only sending her home for today. That doesn’t stop them from giving Ludwig dirty looks when he picks her up, though.

“You can’t be biting people,” he tells her with a sigh as he drives back towards Slime’s place. “Imagine if someone bit you. That would make you sad, wouldn’t it?”

When he looks in the rearview mirror, she’s looking out the car window with a quivering lip.

He tries again. “Did you really bite her just because she wouldn’t share with you?”

Lucy erupts into tears, wailing and sniffling in an instant. The only thing he can make out is, “I want Mom!”

Ludwig makes a show of taking a deep breath, gesturing with his hand to encourage her to take one too. She doesn’t.

“Mom is working right now. You get Dad instead.” He pulls off into a parking lot and parks so that he can turn around and face her. When he reaches over to wipe her tears away with his sleeve, she lets him even though she doesn’t stop crying.

“I want Mom,” she says again in a trembling voice, quieter this time. “Wanna go home.”

“I’m sorry,” he tells her, digging around for a tissue and handing it to her. She poorly attempts to wipe away the boogers under her nose. “Sometimes it’s gonna be Dad that picks you up and takes you to his house instead. Soon I’ll get a new house and you’ll get to pick out a brand new room. Isn’t that cool?”

She doesn’t look impressed. “Wanna go home.”

Fuck, this isn’t going to work. He’s always believed kids are much smarter than people give them credit for, but this conversation is beyond the scope of a three-year-old.

“Do you want to get ice cream?” he asks, knowing that it’s probably the worst thing you can do after your kid gets kicked out of school. He figures that it’s special circumstances. “This isn’t a reward. Biting is still bad,” he adds for good measure.

She lights up a little. “Strawberry?”

He nods, very seriously. “Strawberry.”

Lucy smiles at him for the first time since he moved out. “Strawberry!” she starts to chant.

Ludwig lets out a laugh as he pulls back onto the road and drives toward the ice cream shop. Maybe things will all be okay, just like his friends said. Maybe some one-on-one time was really all that they needed after all.

“I love you so so much, Lucy,” he tells her.

“I love strawberry,” she replies, and he takes it as a win.

#'ficlet' 'snippet' and then i continue to write stuff that i could probably just post on ao3 except this way i dont have to title it #dadwig #ludwig #my fic #answered #anonymous

[thedeathdeelers]

all i ask

“Please, I-” she’s cut off by a sob clawing its way out, her breath hitching in her throat as tears continue to flow down her cheeks. She squeezes her eyes shut tighter, burying her face into the warm expanse of his chest while her arms refuse to let go.

“Julie what- what’s wrong?” She hears and feels the vibrations of his words as they seep into her ear, tries to let that soothe her. His arms come up from around her, fingers clasping onto her arms as he tries to gently push her away, but all that does is make Julie panic and hold onto him tighter.

She shakes her head, still locked in place.

“Julie, you’re scaring me. What happened?” His hands flutter up and down her arms, then revert back to her back, his fluttering movements starting to mirror the slight panic in his voice.

And then all at once, they still, his body following suit.

“Did- did Nick do something?”

Julie immediately shakes her head, pulling back just enough to look him in the eye.

She feels him ease up beneath her, hands resuming their soothing motions on her back.

“Then what’s wrong?” His voice softens, his eyes roaming her face and lingering on the tear stained cheeks. “Please tell me. I can’t help if I don’t know.” She’s always found it harder to look at him when he’s staring at her so tenderly — the concern, the love, so clear in his eyes.

If only that love matched the desperate beating of her heart.

Her heart squeezes painfully at the thought; at the reminder of this forever unrequited love.

He cups her cheek in the palm of his hand, his thumb swiping at the relentless stream of tears. Her eyes flutter closed at the contact as her fingers twist the fabric of his shirt. She knows she must be stretching the material, her grasp unyielding, but she can’t get herself to let go, to loosen her hold on him.

What if the moment she does, he slips through her fingertips?

But she knows that no matter what she does, he’s leaving, that she’s only delaying the inevitable.

Sunset Curve were headed for stardom, and he was leaving her behind.

No, that wasn’t fair — she was letting him go. They had asked her to tag along, to be a permanent guest appearance but Julie had only felt like she would be in their way — this unofficial groupie who would make it awkward for Luke and the boys. Would they feel like they had to babysit her? Keep her company instead of hanging out with fans?

Would she feel like someone was repeatedly stabbing her heart every time girls came up to talk to Luke? To get his autograph? To get their pictures taken, slip him their numbers as they giggle and flutter their eyelashes at him?

Would he feel obliged to say no, feeling awkward knowing that she was there — or worse, would he eventually accept someone else’s advances?

Julie’s face contorts into a grimace at that thought, and Luke’s thumb freezes.

“Julie, please,” he begs, his voice cracking with unrestrained worry. “Tell me what to do.”

She opens her eyes to find him staring at her with a burning gaze, his face closer than it had been earlier. Air rushes out of her lungs and she’s momentarily stunned.

She was doing just fine when they had told her about their year-long global tour. She was doing just fine last week, yesterday, last night. But then this morning…something changed, finally clicking into place.

Her heart had caught up to her, and it had shattered into a million pieces.

She had lost her chance, and now it was too late.

Julie ducks her head as she pulls herself back into him, burying her face in his chest once more. She hugs him to her, telling herself this is the last of it.

One more hug, one more moment in his arms; that was all she was allowing herself.

“Just hold me like you love me; like I’m more than just a friend,” she whispers, quiet enough that she thinks (and hopes) he might not hear. She thinks maybe she’s lost her mind. “Give me a memory I can use before you go, before I have to let you go.”

For a moment she lets herself believe that he hasn’t heard her, lets the disappointment and relief wash over her. But as she’s about to let out a sigh of relief, moving to pull away — she feels him tense in her arms. The hand that was comfortingly tracing patterns on her back stops, his fingers no longer touching her. The arm that was wrapped around her waist moves, hovering just out of reach.

Her heart starts pounding in quick succession, while something heavy in her chest shifts, sinking past her stomach and down to her toes. She should have kept her mouth shut, her feelings locked in — it’s what she’s done for nearly 8 years, why ruin everything now?

Panic & heartbreak, she thinks, that’s why.

Julie takes a deep breath, preparing herself for a rejection she never wanted to experience.

Reluctantly letting go of the now surely creased material, she balls her hands into fists and drops them to her sides. She can still feel Luke’s arms on either side of her, there but not touching, caging her in. She opens her eyes, her gaze glued to the floor, working up the courage to look up.

He was so quiet, so still. It was never a good sign.

Her nails dig into soft skin, giving her momentary distraction.

“Julie,” he breathes out — her eyes immediately flick up to meet his wide, stunned ones.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-” she stops, her voice coming out hoarse. She clears it and tries again. “Whatever you heard, just forget it. Please.” She can see Luke starting to shake his head, mouth opening to form words. “Please Luke, for me.”

He stops at her plea, his mouth snapping shut. Her heart drops even further, drowning in its own doing.

Julie nods once, fully aware that she needs to leave or she will crumble at any moment.

“I- I just came to wish you luck. I know you guys will- you will rock it. You were always meant to share your music with the world, Luke.”

She struggles but she makes it, willing a small, albeit sad, smile on her lips.

Using a strength she didn’t know she still had in her, Julie takes a deep breath and steps back, breaking out of his embrace.

Throwing him another strained smile and awkward nod, Julie turns away, ready to make a hasty exit.

But before she can even take one step, a hand reaches out, fingers hooking into her belt loops and pulling her back. She stumbles, air leaving her lungs in a rush, as her back comes in contact with a warmth she had just struggled to let go of.

“Luke-” she tries, only to stop, the words dying in her throat when she feels Luke burying his face in the crook of her neck while his arms wrap fully around her waist.

All Julie can do is stand there in shock, lips parted in confusion as her heart works to beat out of her chest, singing a song of…hope?

Her hands hover just over his, unsure of what to do, her legs slowly turning to jelly.

He lets out a breath, tickling her and causing her skin to pebble while a shiver wreaks havoc all the way down her spine. She’s frozen to the spot, her mind unable to process….anything.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity of uncertainty, Julie hears (and feels) Luke let out a soft chuckle, shaking his head while the tips of his hair brush against her skin.

“I can’t believe…” he starts, trailing off as he lifts his head from the little home he’d made by her neck. The air that rushes in when he moves his head is almost painfully cold.

“Jules.”

Julie closes her eyes at his use of her favourite nickname, unsure of what to do..or say.

Slowly moving his arms but never letting go, Luke loosens his hold on her only to turn her around to face him, hands gently coming up to cup her face — just like he did earlier, and yet it felt…different.

“Julie, open your eyes.”

Julie doesn’t think she’s ready to look at him yet, to open her eyes and find sympathy, concern, awkwardness; a dream shattered.

His thumbs brush against her skin, lingering at the corner of her lips.

The calluses on his fingertips against her soft skin makes her shiver again.

“Please.”

Her eyes ease open without her consent at his plea, unable to deny him anything even at the cost of a broken heart.

He’s close again, but his gaze seems to be softer, more tender. There’s a small tentative smile playing at the corners of his lips, as if he’s holding himself back…in case.

“What you said,” he starts, but barely manages to continue as Julie rushes to cut him off.

Luke, to his credit, sees it coming a mile away and stops her before she even has a chance, his thumb resting on her bottom lip.

“Julie, I- I love you.”

Julie blinks once, her mind stopping altogether.

“I think I’ve loved you from the moment we met — when you first sang to me and then turned and smiled at me, I-” he cuts himself off, laughing breathlessly as he takes her in. “I was a goner.” He’s shaking his head again, almost like he can’t believe it — any of it.

Julie thinks she might understand what he’s feeling — she’s sure as hell struggling to grasp any of the words coming out of his mouth.

“How could you- I thought you knew? I thought you were just trying to spare me, always keeping it friendly, never holding my hands and always pulling away from any hug, I…”

All Julie can do is continue to stare, her mind finally kicking into overdrive.

He- She was always pulling away to protect herself, never letting herself hope or fall into the trap of thinking he might love her too. Luke showed his affection for others with touch, and Julie was always terrified her heart might mistake it for something more.

She’s shaking her head without realising, her lips parting as she tries to find her footing.

“I- I-” She doesn’t know what to say, what to do.

Her hands, previously hanging limply at her sides, slowly move up as they come to rest on his chest, fingers clasping onto the material for strength. Her eyes follow the crinkling of his t-shirt, for a second mesmerised by the sight of the bold graphics beneath her fingertips.

He loves her.

Luke…loves her.

Julie’s eyes track their way back up to meet his, a hushed look of wonder brushing over her features.

“I love you.”

The words are out, and she feels like she’s run a marathon, like she’s sung for hours to a stadium packed with people, like she’s just composed the very best melody she will ever hear.

Breathless, ecstatic, invincible.

Julie feels like she’s just conquered the world.

And when she takes in Luke’s bright eyes and the ever growing smile on his face…

She thinks he might be feeling the same way, too.

With a growing smile of her own, Julie uses her hold on his shirt to pull him down towards her, rising on her tiptoes to meet him halfway.

Finally.

#i’m so tired this was supposed to be a short dRABBLE #a 5-6 paragraph thing #ANYWAY #inspired by that one lyric from all i ask by adele #jatp #juke #julie and the phantoms #my fics #jatp fics