#quarantine really be making me go back to old stuff huh
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@shepherds-of-haven, for the “awakening” prompt! Set a little after Chapter 1, and with the children rescued and quarantined.
visit
“Another rainy day.” She mourns aloud, as she parts her curtains. Her window’s covered in fine droplets, and below, the courtyard is muddy and abandoned. The gray, dreary weather is a letdown. With the endless patrols and tasks, she hasn’t had a spare moment to herself. Her energy is waning from the work and lack of sun. At least, she doesn’t start for another hour, but she should grab a bite.
With a sigh, she laces up her boots, and something catches her eye. A corner of white paper, sticking underneath her door. She pulls it towards her and unfolds the middle crease. Her name is at the top, the letters round and neat. Rika’s handwriting, confirmed by the girl’s signature. The note is brief.
Are you free? If you are, please have breakfast with us!
She smiles. The kids must be bored in quarantine, and she really would like to pay them a visit. It’s a short walk to the corridor, that breaks off into their rooms. Even before she sees the entrance, someone’s obviously cooking and that quickens her pace. She heads for the largest main area and beams. “Hello, good morning!”
Instantly, she’s crowded by the dozen kids, who happily return her greeting. Caine hangs in the back, trying to appear cool and failing. But she’s most struck by Trouble, walking up to her with a grin.
“All of you are more excited to see her than me.”
“We saw you yesterday!” One boy, around seven or eight, defends.
“So I’m an old regular, huh?” He ruffles the boy’s hair and tells the group. “Isn’t your food getting cold? Go on, I’ll pull a chair over for her.”
The kids disentangle themselves with slight pouts, but they trudge back to the dining table. She follows Trouble to the adjacent kitchenette. Pans and bowls are strewn about, and he scratches his head.
“Sorry for the mess. The kitchens sent up half the stuff, but I wanted to make something hot for them. Of course, they begged to help out. Crack eggs, butter the toast, taste test, anything. Half of this month’s already gone, and they’re getting stir-crazy.”
“Aw, I wish I’d come earlier. That sounded fun.”
“Yeah, it was. And they promised to clean up too.” He easily lifts a wooden stool. “I didn’t know you’d be stopping by, until Rika mentioned it.”
“She sent me a note, and I thought visiting would be nice. I can only stay for an hour, but I need the break.”
“I bet, I heard you were swamped.” His hand clasps her shoulder, in a firm and affectionate gesture. “How’ve you been doing?”
She’s touched by his concern. “I’m a little tired. With all the rain, I’ve missed seeing the sun.”
“Same, it’s hard to get out of bed when it’s so gloomy.”
“Absolutely.” They rejoin the kids, and he sets her stool down, next to his seat.
“Well, here you go.”
“Thank you, Trouble.” She has her first look at the breakfast offerings, and her mouth waters. Baskets of bread, jars of fruit preserves, scrambled eggs, crispy bacon, a dish of seasoned potato slices, among others. She fills her plate, taking a little of everything. As she does, whoever’s assisted with that item is keen to point out their contribution.
The boy from earlier speaks up again. “I added the salt and pepper!”
“The milk went missing, but we found it.” A pair of siblings chime in.
The youngest girl pulls at her sleeve. “Is the toast yummy?”
“I don’t know, let me try it.” She makes a show of chomping down on her piece, topped off with honey and a generous sprinkle of cinnamon. “Mm-hmm, it’s perfect. You did such a great job, everyone!”
She’s rewarded with their bright smiles, and they momentarily resume eating. Her toast really is delicious, the taste is nostalgic. Without thinking, she licks a drop of honey off the side of her thumb. In her periphery, Trouble stares at her, his jaw slack.
“Oops, forgot my table manners.” She apologizes.
“Er, no, it’s fine. Mine are worse.” He holds her gaze a second longer, before shoveling potatoes into his mouth.
Caine interrupts, calling their names. “Have you two been on any new missions?”
“Actually, we’ve had separate ones.” She says, in between bites. “The last time we worked together, that was when we rescued everyone here. I think this is the longest I’ve spent with Trouble since then. Right?” She looks to him.
He’s chugging his khav, his gold-ringed eyes widening, and he quickly swallows. “Yeah, we’ve only said hello to each other as we walk past. By the way, I still owe you a drink.”
“Yup, I didn’t forget. I’ll remind you when I have more than an hour.”
Caine then asks if she’s experienced anything interesting, and she mentions how her latest shopping trip went, including the clown and his funny antics. Other than that, she’s had a dull sennight. Trouble hasn’t fared any better, and the kids already know his stories.
“Trouble, do you visit every day?” She asks.
“I wish I could, but it comes to about every three or four.”
“Oh? So, yesterday was an exception? This morning makes twice in a row.”
“Well, I usually swing by in the afternoon, but Rika said she wanted to have a breakfast meeting.”
“I see.” Rika’s been the common point in this situation, and with her intuition sparking, she peers down the table. The girl is noticeably taking interest in her juice, not meeting their gazes. “Thank you, Rika. It was nice of you to think of us.”
“You two saved us. My mom says a full belly is the best thank you.” But she shyly smiles.
To her dismay, she notices the time and she has to leave within the minute. “I really want to stay, but I can’t be late.” She rises, stacking her silverware on her plate, when Trouble takes her elbow and steers her to the door.
“We’ll take care of your dishes, so get going. Thanks for being here, it was good to see you.” His expression is warm, like the sunlight she dearly craves.
“Yeah, I had so much fun. It was nice.” And she decides to go for the hug. He’s as solid as she remembers, and he squeezes her back.
“Stay safe out there, alright?”
“Duly noted, Vice Commander.”
“Are you gonna kiss?” The question from Rika shatters the moment, and they pull apart. The girls look enthused at the prospect, the boys grossed out. Caine’s face is an equal mix of confusion and horror.
“Nope, sorry.” She airily replies and enjoys how Trouble’s turned crimson.
“Hey now, you kids shouldn’t see any kissing.”
“We’re not that little.” Caine protests. “And I’ve seen worse than people smooching!”
They’re about to banter, so she waves goodbye. Then, at the threshold, she whirls around. “Can we do this again next week?”
The kids cheer in obvious agreement. Trouble rubs the back of his neck, smiling bashfully. “I’d like that. Sounds like a plan.”
It’s already drizzling when she begins her patrol, but her boots don’t feel as heavy and she squares her shoulders with renewed determination.
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An interview during self-isolation with Zane Lowe (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)
Word Count: 2.2k
Author’s Note: I’ve gotten a ton of asks to the tune of this scenario - about what a quarantine video with Harry and his family would look like. I put as many of them together as I could for you all! Hope you enjoy and it’s not too confusing, as this isn’t my typical writing style, but I tried my best to make it worth your while! Take care and TPWK.
“Harry, can ye’ hear me alright?” Harry heard Zane Lowe’s voice fill his right ear as he readjusted his headphones.
“Yeah, I can hear ya,” he responded, running his fingers through his hair once everything was situated and his laptop was balanced perfectly on his knee.
“I’ve just been video calling and chatting it up with everyone on how they’re navigating the pandemic, so I’m very thankful you’ve agreed to join in.”
“‘S no problem. Thank you f’ having me.”
“Oh!” Zane interjected his own strain of thought, “I see you’ve brought a special guest for us today,” he said when Harry’s screen finally focused and he was able to see everything on Harry’s end.
Harry chuckled, the dimples on either corner of his mouth growing wider at the mention of the sleeping body on his chest that’s got a fuzzy blanket tucked into their sides and draped over Harry’s upper half.
“I have,” Harry agreed, “Though he’s not gonna be worth much. Being a two-year-old is exhausting apparently.”
He gave the toddler a few gentle pats on the back and continued to look at Zane through the webcam.
“This is your son, right?” Zane asked.
“Who? Him?” Harry asked, nodding his head in the direction of his child, “Nah. Found him on the street.”
Both men laughed, but Harry tried to lower his volume as to not wake up his son.
“Well, he looks an awful bit like you t’ be a stray, don’t ye’ think?”
“I suppose the curls are quite convincing, aren’t they?” Harry sighed, playfully rolling his eyes.
“What’s brought your bubs along with you for this interview?”
“Erm,” Harry thought, wondering if he should be talking this much about his personal life but ultimately deciding it wasn’t too invasive, “Y/N’s been pretty tired lately, so I’m just trying to keep him out of her hair so she can rest. He’s going through a phase where he’s very clingy right now so he’d probably be crying f’ me at some point if I left him in his room.”
“Oh, that’s right!” it suddenly dawned on Zane, “You two are expecting again, aren’t you?
“We are,” Harry smiled softly yet proudly into the screen, “‘s kinda scary for us right now, but we’re hoping everything is cleared up before it’s time.”
“Yeah, yeah. I was just about to say right now’s probably not the greatest time to be havin’ a baby.”
“Well, the baby’s not due for a few more months so I think everything’ll be alright, but it’s still just kinda nerve-wracking ye’ know?”
“Absolutely,” Zane added, “This has all got t’ be tough on your guys; having to self-isolate with a toddler plus having one on the way.”
“Ehh, it’s not so bad,” Harry countered, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles as he spoke. “We’ve been spending a lot of time t’gether, which is pretty great. I just got done with all of the album promo, so I’d already been gone for a while. Plus, I was about to leave for tour for like a month so we were kinda sad about having to say goodbye before, but now I don’t have to. We talk to our families a lot and keep in touch with everyone pretty regularly so we don’t feel like we’re going too crazy.”
“Good! That’s good.”
Harry nodded in agreement.
“I was going to ask you about tour actually. You’ve pushed the European leg of your Love on Tour to next year, is that correct?”
“Correct.”
“That must be hard for you, I’m sure. I bet you were so ready to get back on the road and to have it all pulled out from under ye’ was probably not the greatest feeling.”
“I mean, it’s obviously disappointing, but like, in the grand scheme of things, it’s not the most important thing in the world. But I think everyone kinda understands that there’s not anything you can do about it and ye’ have to do what you can to keep everyone safe, ya know?”
“For sure,” Zane nodded, readjusting the hat on his head.
“Plus, it gives you time to practice doesn’t it?”
Harry’s belly shook as he laughed softly.
“Definitely gives us plenty of time to be prepar-”
Harry stopped in his tracks and looked down at his son who was still napping away, lifting his hand up from where it had been rested on his tiny bum.
“Everything alright?” Zane asked Harry after he was still quiet for a few seconds and his eyes were as wide as saucers.
“Uhh, yeah,” Harry stuttered as a noticeable heat climbed to his cheeks, “Think m’ son’s just farted on me in his sleep.”
This made Zane laugh even harder than he had before, clutching his chest while Harry remained embarrassed that his son had just passed gas on him during his first interview.
The commotion seemed to stir Harry’s son from his sleep. His pudgy legs began to stretch against Harry’s chest and his balled-up fists reached up to rub at his closed eyes. Harry seemed to sense some trepidation, like his son was going to start fussing at any given moment, so he quickly began bouncing his small body against his knee to soothe him and shushed him quietly in his ear. Zane didn’t draw much attention to it, but he couldn’t help but swoon over how easily Harry’s son settled back down.
Harry whispered, “’s alright, bubby. You’re alright,” before kissing the top of his curls gently, no doubt making the viewers lose their minds at home with how gentle he was being towards his boy.
“So your boy farts himself awake, huh?” Zane joked.
“Wouldn’t be the first time. He’s an absolute mess,” Harry added.
“Does he take after you or Y/N?”
Clearly, neither of them were interested in talking about music or tour anymore. Harry’s son had stolen the show, and he wasn’t even conscious.
“A little bit of both I’d say. He’s extremely kind and caring like Y/N, but loves to mess around like me. Can’t really say he got any of Y/N’s looks, though.”
“Absolutely not,” Zane chuckled into his mic, “That one’s all you.”
Harry laughed again, rubbing the tip of his nose with the palm of his hand out of habit.
“Is he excited to be a big brother?”
“Ehh, I think he kinda gets the idea, but not really,” Harry tilted his hand back and forth to symbolize the fact that his toddler could just barely come to grips with there being another baby in his mum’s belly.
“He knows there’s ‘something in mummy’s tummy,’“ Harry noted using air quotes, “And he like, gives Y/N’s stomach kisses all of the time because we tell him to and he sees me do it, but I don’t really think he’s come to grips with it.”
“Well, that makes sense,” Zane responded, “He’s only two.”
“Right, right,” Harry agreed, “But he’s, like, super cuddly and loves his stuffed animals and stuff, so I don’t think he’s gonna have a hard time at all really.”
Just when Zane was going to try to get back on topic with his prepared list of questions he had written up for Harry that didn’t involve his son, there was a commotion on Harry’s end that occurred somewhere beyond the view of the camera.
It was the sound of a door shutting a feet padding against hardwood steps.
“Harry!” a voice called out.
“Have you seen my laptop charger? I’m trying to FaceTime Gem- Oh,” the voice stopped.
“Sorry, baby,” Harry spoke above the laptop screen to whoever had just walked into the room, “Couldn’t find mine and I had t’ talk t’ Zane.”
“Which Zane?”
“Is that Y/N I hear?” Zane asked Harry.
Harry laughed at his wife’s words, quickly specifying that it was Zane Lowe and not his former bandmate.
“Yes, it is Y/N. She’s awoken from her beauty sleep it appears.”
The camera wasn’t able to pick up the way Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry.
“Gimme one of those,” Y/N demanded, holding her hand out for the other earbud that Harry wasn’t wearing so she could join in on his conversation with Zane.
Harry swung the free earbud around his chest with his free hand as to not disturb their son, smiling smugly at his wife while she settled onto the sofa next to him and cuddled into his side.
“Hello, gorgeous,” Zane greeted her.
“Hello, handsome,” Y/N responded, “How come you never call to talk to me anymore? Why do you only care about this nobhead?”
She playfully shoved Harry’s shoulder, but not hard enough to actually knock him sideways.
“He does have the number one album in the country right now. Kinda makes sense to check in on him now, dunnit?”
“And I’m his baby mama, so where’s my praise for carrying his little spawns?”
“You truly are a saint for tha’ one. I won’t lie.”
Harry feigned offense but failed to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of his lips.
“I’m sitting right here!” he scoffed.
“We know, love,” Y/N cooed him as she looked over at him and brushed his curls that had fallen onto his forehead back into his mess of hair.
“How are you doing, though, Y/N? We talked a bit about you while you were away. Harry said you’re strugglin’ a bit?”
“Umm, I mean, it’s just normal pregnancy stuff,” she dismissed his qualms as she absentmindedly stroked her protruding belly that was just barely in the frame, “I’m at the point where everything hurts all of the time and everything Harry does annoys the piss out of me, but other than that I’m pretty much normal.”
“Goodness. He didn’t tell me that part,” Zane chuckled, “Please elaborate.”
“Okay, well first of all-,” Y/N started.
“Why are you acting like you were just waiting f’ someone to ask you that question?” Harry forced through laughter.
“Because I’ve got a lot to say!” she exclaimed.
“You don’t pick up your dirty clothes, you leave your tea mugs all around the house, and you and your son eat all of my bread!”
“I do not eat all of the bread!” Harry started to playfully argue with his wife.
“I caught you sneaking into the pantry at midnight eating bread right out of the bag, Harold.”
“Well, what were you doin’ awake in the kitchen at midnight anyway, hmm?”
“I’m pregnant. I’m allowed to be hungry every twenty minutes. You’ve got no excuse.”
Harry sighed in defeat, meanwhile, Zane sat back and enjoyed listening to the two of them bickering like children.
“Sounds like the quarantine might getting t’ the both of you, huh?”
“Oh, no,” Y/N dismissed Zane, “We’re always like this.”
Just then, Harry felt the weight distribution on his chest shift, and saw a pair of emerald green eyes identical to his open and look back and forth between him and Y/N. His pudgy cheeks were flushed a warm, crimson color and the t-shirt he had taken a nap in was tugged over to the side from how well he had slept.
“Well, hello there, bubby. Nice of you t’ join us,” Harry spoke calmly to his son that was in the middle of waking up, gently brushing his fingers along the side of his face.
“Dear god. He looks just like you, Harry,” Zane said in disbelief.
This made Harry blush and hide his face in his son’s plush blanket, and Y/N looked lovingly down at her two boys.
“I know he does,” Harry confirmed, “Poor thing.”
Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry’s comment. As if that was meant to be an insult.
“Hung-y,” the three of them heard the toddler mumble.
“What’s that, lovie?” Y/N perked up.
“I hung-y” he repeated, his arms outstretched for his mother to which she happily accepted.
The boy crawled right over Harry towards Y/N, his foot sinking deep into Harry’s gut and making him grunt in reaction.
“You’re hungry?” Y/N asked, “You want some lunch, bubs?”
He nodded into Y/N’s shoulder where he had tucked himself away, clearly still in the mood to be loved on and cuddled.
“Well, let’s go make you something to eat then. What do you want? A banana?”
“Bread!” cheered the two-year-old, which earned a laugh from everyone in the room and an eye-roll from Y/N.
“Of course, you want bread. Wouldn’t expect anything less from your father’s child.”
“Why are you bullying me?” Harry fired back.
“Because you’re eating all of my damn bread!” Y/N yelled before scooping their son up from the couch and teetering out of frame into the kitchen.
“Alright,” started Zane, “Seems like it’s time for me to leave you three alone. Thanks for stopping in t’ chat.”
Harry chortled, readjusting his headphone one last time to sign off.
“Thanks again f’ havin’ me. Sorry my family crashed your interview.”
“It’s no bother at all, mate. ‘S actually quite refreshing seeing ye’ like this. I’m sure everyone watching would agree. Reminds us all that you’re human and not some robot with perfect hair and the voice of an angel.”
Harry hid his face in his hands, blushing for what felt like the thousandth time during this video call.
“I hope you lot continue to stay safe and healthy through all of this.”
“Thank you so much. You as well,” Harry added.
“Of course. Tell Y/N I’ll ring her up soon.”
“Will do,” Harry nodded, “If she doesn’t kill me f’ asking her t’ make me some toast first.”
#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles x pregnant!reader#dad!harry#dad!harry x reader#dad!harry x pregnant!reader
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We were at the pool today. My ma took a few of the worst pics of me, as of late. I hate posing for photos. I look at them, and judge myself harshly. I looked nothing like I look here, when I have control of the camera. I don’t show you my extra, I got going on all around all over here, on me. The quarantine…. Let’s just say I ate my way through it… and it kinda snuck up on me and hit me like a ton of bricks when I couldn’t put on my old jeans comfortably without the additional muffin top, because I favored my spandex instead of them. (See next post for details…)
I was trying to figure out how to change my negative thought process about how I see myself physically. How do I look at ass photos of myself, without judging myself harshly? I’m asking. Seriously. It’s not a rhetorical question. Well, maybe I can start by not calling a picture of me, ass.
The other day I thought I’d try to find something to love about the things on my body I don’t. And I thought I’d try my hand at writing a love letter 💌 to my cellulite and extra lbs. but I can’t just say nice things and lie. I have to be completely honest, and choose things I can say that I will believe. That’s a tall order. How do I change the way I perceive this situation when ever since I can remember it’s been a really tough thing for me to appreciate? And if I lie, I’ll know about it. And I won’t buy into it, and I’ll feel worse. So, this is a great exercise for me, without busting my ass any more than I physically already have today. Ok?! Ok! So join me, won’t you? Here goes:
Dear cellulitis and other extra lbs on me,
Hello darlings…
Ok, I’m already in trouble, as I am not fond of cellulite or extra pounds, so they are not darlings to me. But saying, “hello assholes” isn’t nice to me either. What do you do, when you have things you can’t immediately control, about yourself that you don’t appreciate? Can you appreciate them? How do you focus on fixing what you deem as a problem without getting lost in “the problem”?
My, this is a conundrum… well, I did what I could do for today. What the hell else do I want from myself?! I can’t change it overnight! Jeez! Come onnnn, me! Give me a break! I went on a walk with my son, I did the brutal but eventually effective “Tracy Anderson” murder mat tape, which I could define better. I will call it, “yay tough for now but easier later sooooo good for me probably will not be able to walk or move for a week afterward but god bless here’s hoping I will feel less pain eventually and work out the lactic acidosis well Tracy may be wee, but she’s fiercely strong for a small woman, but that’s her job, she ducking MADE it her job, and she’s successful. Why don’t i make it my job too?! Cause I’m not built like her, and being a fitness expert isn’t me. Why don’t i get a job?! I can’t figure out what to go back to. Why aren’t I a success too?! I don’t have a good answer for that. And why doesn’t she have rolls like me when she sits down I sometimes have to tuck my belly into the elastic of my underwear when I decide to wear it. yes! I do that, harsh judges of me both internally and then subsequently externally! Do I got a problem with extreme honesty about myself?! Huh?! Huh?! Yeah! Yeahhhhh that’s what I THOUGHT (holy crap)” tape. And I did think that. So, I can choose to once again, think differently, and more positively.
Seriously… she looks amazing! Tracy is a woman whose exercise videos are great, and are challenging for me to do on the daily because I’m out of practice. So Tracy Anderson isn’t the issue. The issue is me. The issue is what and how I feel about myself. I went on the treadmill after I saw this photo…. Inspired action, yes. But what was the inspiration? Fear of rejection or self love? A little mixed bag, I think.
So, because I feel the way I do, I am also avoiding grains and sugar like a mother that I am. And I’m drinking so much water that I’m spending 20 out of the 24 hours, peeing! What more can I do?! Well, maybe I can give myself a ducking break in the meantime. Maybe, I can do something else and not think about my bigger arms, stomach and thighs. Breaking from that train of thought will allow me a brain vacation away from judging my extra pounds and cellulite, and from hurting my own feelings. Maybe, in the meantime, I can appreciate my new boobs, which grew a whole cup size with the weight gain. Yay boobies!!!!
Well, that’s one way to look at it. Another, is not to look at it for awhile. Maybe I can go listen to music, or dance, or learn how to play the accordion or buy up all the tickets to a blue grass concert and give them away for free like some super cool people do. Whatever I decide, I’m going to choose to do something that is actually good for me, that I can enjoy and appreciate while I change for my more desired results! I can decide to think better about myself, so I can make choices, that will lead to better options to aid in my happiness down the line.
Now, I was just reminded by myself, that my ass is bigger too. That is a subjective thing whether it’s good or bad, but since we’re trying to make better thought choices let’s say, like Martha Stewart says hopefully about her ass, that it’s “a good thing”. Since my boobies are now huge, I’m now balanced. Bigger boobies, bigger culi too. Stands to reason. Ok! Great! I’ll start my letter again…
Dear extra on me that I once didn’t appreciate,
Guess what?! I like my bigger boobies! You’re still pretty perky. Also, to my culo, yes, you are bigger, but now we can wear tighter clothing with a greater effect! Yes! We are more pronounced in our lady regions…. Nice! And I’m actively toning the rest nicey nice like to match the other parts I enjoy, so, that’s cool too! Healthy me? Yes please! Ok! Great!
Hugs n kisses,
Me
See?! I’m going to figure out how to get right with me now if it kills me! No. We don’t want it to kill, we just want to be happier, right ladies who judge their bodies on the regular like me?! Don’t let this happen to you! Choose to find something about you to appreciate, and bolster the crap out of that until you notice that you’re happier. The rest will fall into place. But don’t let it fall too far down, otherwise you’ll need a bra, and I’ve given up bras for quarantine. And I’m not mad about it. There are positives to everything. Yes. And if you deem a photo of yourself ass that people take of you, don’t look. That’s one way to lose the weight. You can also make healthier choices, which includes thinking kinder thoughts about the things that you aren’t wild about in your life, or not wild about in you. 🙈🤷♀️😉🤣💕
Appendices: Openness to experience, is one factors of the 5 factor model, aka the 5 main personality traits in psychology. And there are 6 facets of openness (see below). I enjoy stretching my brain, and stretching my own blocks to honesty about myself, and my own personal blocks to love. Thank you, for coming with me on my journey to becoming more open about myself only. 😊
(The pie charts above and below are not mine. The openness chart below does not represent me. It’s only meant as an example of the 6 facets of openness to experience that I enjoy experimenting with on myself in a rudimentary way in my life.)
P.P. S. For those of you like me interested in learning more about how your brain structures affect your personality and how your experiences affect it as well, check out this article about how the 2 are linked. Cool stuff! It won’t let me cut and paste from safari or add the link, but the article is called, “brain structures correspond to different facets of personality” from psypost.org.)
#choose love#love matters#love manifestation#self reflection#self love#self esteem#self improvement#selfworth#self care#self development#selfie#me#love yourself#a love vigilante#weight gain#weightloss#tracy anderson#energy work#workout#exercise
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Alternative {spencer reid}
Chapter 2
summary: Since quarentine was announced, Y/N decided to rewatch all seasons of Criminal Minds. On a lonely night she wished she could be in that universe instead of this. What happens when she wakes up in 2008 in Quantico?
warnings: angst, a very confused reader, regular cm stuff and my grammar (if you find anything else pls lmk)
word count: 2.1k
a/n: ok, i am really excited about this series. and really thankful that y'all are liking it. also, i hope you will enjoy this chapter as much as y'all did the last one! it didn't end up as long as i wanted it it but ig its ok right.
series masterlist
part 1 | part 2
You could hear some familiar voices on the background as you began to regain conciseness, voices you could identify anywhere. You kept your eye shut for a while, feeling the tiredness and dizziness your body was screaming at you despite the fact that you have been unconscious, and on the floor apparently. Even though you're head was still too slow to think straight, you noticed that your face mask wasn't on you anymore.
“Who is she?” you heard the familiar voice of Shamar, or Morgan, given the circumstances.
“Apparently she knows me.” that was Spencer’s turn to speak.
“I met her this morning.” JJ states, you could only imagine the faces they would be making at her, wondering how and why. “I bumped into her walking on the street, she seemed pretty confused but yet she still knew who I was.”
“Well, that’s weird.” Emily said.
When you finally decided to open them, you felt like you were still dream. Once again you found yourself asking what was going on. Why was the whole cast of Criminal Minds standing there simple staring at you and why were they acting like their characters? Out of the two explanations that came to your mind at the moment, only one made any sense. I was a tv prank, it could only be. There would be no other logical reason to it, other wise.
“Are you ok?” Hotch asks, offering a hand.
You stared at him trying to figure out what to say, but without saying a word you took his hands and got up. The whole team was looking at you, with weird expressions. You felt almost like you were an unsub, you hated being stared.
“Yes, I mean, no!” you say. “Is this a prank of something? Because, damn, you guys went too far down with it. Fuck!” you say, finally snapping.
“I’m afraid I don't know what you are talking about.” Rossi said.
You tried not to but as soon as you realized you already had a big sarcastic expression on your face. How wouldn't they? They were tv stars and they were clearly acting, you've seen it.
“Oh, you're not?” you said, as sarcastic as you could be. “Ok, let me enlighten you all, since you ��don’t know what i’m talking about?’. I woke up in this freaking random apartment by myself wearing the exact same thing I was wearing the night before.”
“...and where is the part we fit in there?” he replies.
You ignored him, sighing and trying to push your anxiety down.
“As I was saying, I was wearing the exact same thing and I was in Bellevue, in Washington state. I have no idea who decided to pull this off but as much as I love the show, I am not enjoying this.” you say, looking around trying to find cameras.
They all kept staring at you, Rossi was the only one who didn't seem worried about, it was like he thought you were on drugs or just delusional. You were even starting to believe in that. JJ and Spencer kept staring at each other, possibly trying to figure out what was going on, and how you knew them.
“You believe you were abducted, then?” Hotch finally says something.
You sigh again, trying to be patience. All you wanted was to go home, when you said you wanted to meet the cast - all the hundreds of times you said it, you didn’t mean this. You closed your eyes, because suddenly all you wanted to do was cry. You couldn't count how many times you imagined this happening and it was being just awful. You hated being confused, lost and being pictured as crazy.
“No, Agent Hotchner” you spilled his name, sarcastically. “I am sure.”
He looked at you without much expression - as usual, but you could tell he was superseded you knew him, just as much as the team. Morgan step forward, walking towards you. You stared at him, trying to remain calm.
“Listen, we can't help you if you don't let us.” he said. “Can you tell us your name?”
God, don't they realize this is funny? I do not wanna be acting, some pictures would do the job just as fine.
“Y/N Y/L/N” you say as you watch Rossi give Garcia a look making her nod and direct herself to her ‘cave’, certainly to search you up.
“Alright, you have someone we can contact with?” JJ asks.
You nodded, yes you did. But they wouldn't pick up the phone, as you tried multiple times this morning on the old cellphone. What if something happened to them? This was all so confusing.
“But she won’t pick up the phone, I tried.” you said.
Once again, you caught yourself wondering what was going on. And that was the moment you kind of got what was happening. Would it be possible that you shifted to this universe? Maybe this wasn't all a prank and your wish had just became true. You probably should've thought about it before asking for it. At once it hit you, what you said to your friend just last night.
“What is something you would want to do right now?” your best friend asked you, leaning a bit towards you, laughing drunkly.
“Um, I’d really like to be in Criminal Minds right now.” you say laughing as you best friend rolled her eyes. “No, listen! I’d love to meet Spencer Reid and I don't know, it just sounds better than quarantine.”
“Yeah, sure, because serial killers are just not bad at all, huh?” she laughed.
Maybe this was true, maybe you did shifted. And if you did, you sure sounded like a crazy person, and probably a stalker. You looked around trying to figure out if you could sit somewhere, it all became took much for you mind at that moment.
“Can I sit... Can I sit somewhere?” you asked, probably looking as ill as you sounded.
You watched as Reid rushed to bring the chair. You set down trying to figure out how you'd leave there, and how you'd shift back. Staring at them you felt your heart warm a little, you dreamed about this for so long - as it was all it was, a dream, until now, at least.
Before you could say a word you watched Penelope come back and whisper in Rossi’s ear, probably what she found out about you. Which, maybe was everything, since you had no reasons to hide a thing about your life, which was quite boring, in fact.
“Who are you?” Rossi says, like he’s ready to arrest you.
“I-I already told you.” you answer. “I’m Y/N.”
If you needed any proof about what was going on that was it. It was like you did not even exist, like you weren't real. She probably didn’t find anything because you’re not from this universe.
“Alright. What can we do for you, Y/N?” Morgan asks.
“I need to go home.” you let it out. “I don't know how I ended up here in Quantico.”
Garcia stares ate you, almost like she felt pity about your situation while the rest of them kept a suspicious look at you. It’s not like you blame them, anyways, you would think it’s weird for somebody to come out of nowhere knowing your name and claiming to be pranked.
While you were sitting there, with all those eyes at you, you thought that maybe giving up and trying to figure it all out by yourself maybe would be better. How would they help you, anyways? It is not like they could send you back. And it is also not like you didn't actually wish for this.
There are some wishes that are entirely rhetorical.
“You know what? I’m good.” you fake a smile, obviously. “I’m just gonna go.”
You stoop up fast, not giving them much time to contest you. Spencer looked confused, more than any of the others, for some reason. Maybe he was just curious on how you knew him, or JJ. Either way, you wouldn't know.
Hotch looked at you, wondering your action. Why were you so desperate at one time and tried to pull off as if it was ok? It was definitely not ok. Your smile looked fake, your body seemed tense and your eyes looked as lost as he could think someone could be, as he has seen a lot of lost eyes.
“Thank you, for your attention, though.” you say. “I’m sorry for taking your time agents.”
You stormed out of there, not even realizing that you left your jacket in there. How could you? Not when you ran out of there as if your live depended on it. You let a sigh out as you got out of the building, not even noticing when the tears started to come down at your cheeks.
At that moment you didn't care at all about where you were, you set on the floor, letting the tears roll down and the sobs come out. You never wished to be away from your reality, it only seemed nice in your dreams. Right now, all you wanted was to go home and hug your parents, or even just see them. You felt lost, as lost as a five year old who can't find his mommy at the park.
You got scared as you felt a big hand touch your shoulders. As your turn, to see who was it, Spencer looked as nice as you could ever picture him to, or see on the screens. His face resembles worry, like he was actually wondering what happened to you and why where you there.
“I believe this is yours.” he hands you your jacket.
You stare at him before.
“Yes, thank you.” you wipe the tears away.
“No- No problem.” he said, sitting by your side. “Are you ok?”
“Yeah.” you answered looking away.
“You don't have to lie to me.” he said, as you looked back at him. “I wanna help you, but I can only do that if you cooperate with me.”
Why would he?
“I don't know where I am. I mean, I do know but I don't know how I ended up here. I understand what is going on, I did after a while but I don't know how to change this situation. I don't know how to go back home.” you said.
Not like he’ll understand, anyways.
"Maybe... Maybe me and my team could help you figure it out?” he tries.
“I doubt it.” you shake your shoulders. “I know that you guys are awesome at your job, don't get me wrong, to be honest I’m quite the big fan.” you laughed a bit. “But it’s just out of hand.”
He stops, looking at you. Gave up offering help, you were not accepting he felt it. No, he knew it. It was his job to know what body language was telling him, anyways. He didn't want to stare at you, but he felt like he needed to. He was stuck at your looks, so pretty, yet so lost.
“If we can't help you, is there anything I can do for you?” he asks.
You looked right into his eyes. Thinking, if you should say it. Maybe so, it wouldn't kill you, it was not like it was the real world of something, well maybe it was but you couldn't care less. All you wanted was somewhere to stay this night and figure out how to get back.
“I do need a place to stay tonight.” you say, smiling little at him.
He had a weird look on his face when you said that, like he wasn't expecting it. Because he wasn't. That moment he considered himself a crazy man, because he knew the risks and yet was up for it.
“Uh, ok.”
Taglist: @feverdreamreid @andromedasstarship @paulaern @theetherealbloom @thatsonezesty13 @reidsalvez @pieceofreid @nymeria-targaryen @greeny-kitten @peppermintnight @notebookgirl30 @2sarvinem @holding-on-to-my-youth @mggsprettygirl @iifloweringnightsii @iidontgiveafuckuniverse @mcntsee
#spencer reid#spencer reid tw#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid angst#spencer reid au#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid smut#fanfic#spencer reid fanfic#fanfiction#criminal minds#aaron hotchner#hotch#jj#jennifer jareau#penélope garcia#derek morgan#emily prentiss#david rossi
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i love ur new fic! only a couple of requests - more parts to it! and...more softness between the two of them 🥺 we hardly get given any in the show </3
:)) ty so so much, anon!!! as requested, here’s another installment of the alternate POV fic (this time from tami’s perspective) and a whooole lot of domestic gallavich softness (featuring very sappy kitchen slow dancing)
--
Tami knew that the pandemic had taken a toll on its fair share of relationships— hell, hers and Lip’s included. But as much as she and Lip bickered and miscommunicated and regularly put up solid walls of lies between each other, at least, the very least—
At least they weren’t like Ian and Mickey.
At some point between being head-over-heels, fuck-all-night crazy for each other and getting married, something between Lip’s brother and his stellar choice of a Southside boyfriend had definitely changed. Tami wasn’t really close to either of them, other than Ian’s borderline obsession with Fred and her gratefulness for the cooing baby voice that came over him every time Tami thrust her tired arms out for him to take the screaming toddler in her arms, and she barely crossed paths with Mickey in a situation that wasn’t coordinating frozen waffles for breakfast or sitting across from him in the living room during Gallagher family movie nights that always inevitably turned into a passionate thirty minute screaming match about which movie to pick— but ever since the first time she set foot into the slumped and sagging Gallagher house, Tami knew that Ian and his choice of a prison-break boyfriend were something special, at least at the beginning.
She’d seen it the first time she met the two of them, when these two grown men were willingly crashing in that shitty single bed in the boys’ room while she and Lip were slumming it in the ever-so-spacious privacy of the cramped room with the accordion door, back when the halls were crawling with strangers making tamales and Fred was barely weeks old and Tami was inches away from losing her shit; Tami couldn’t imagine being in a smaller and more confined space than the one that she was in, locking herself in the bathroom behind an actual fucking door every chance for some peace and quiet, distancing herself from Lip every chance she got— and then there was Ian and Mickey down the hall, sleeping pressed together on a concave mattress meant for a single teenager, pouring each other coffee and trading glances as they sat next to each other at the breakfast table, and pulling each other closer every second they had the chance despite the fact that they’d just gotten out of a months-long prison stay together. There was something so earnest, and so weirdly romantic, about seeing a hardass like Mickey Milkovich, someone with “Fuck U Up” tattoos on his knuckles and more of a sailor’s vocabulary than Tami had, turn to putty whenever he was in proximity to Lip’s little brother. Tami had to be honest—she was kind of impressed. These guys clearly had the teenager, puppy-dog kind of love for each other that hadn’t really gone away, something that she didn’t think that she and Lip ever really had, or ever really would— so as much as she felt like her life and her relationship with Lip was spiraling towards a series of cascading failures, it was nice to know that at least someone in the Gallagher house had a sturdy, stable relationship.
And then, of course, the pandemic hit.
When all this COVID shit started, Tami had counted her infinite blessings that she and Lip had gotten a place of their own outside the Gallagher house before all the sprawling weeks of lockdowns; Tami couldn’t imagine the kind of unforgiving hell on earth it would be to quarantine in that tiny slumped house, in a tiny cramped room, for months on end until the U.S. tangentially got its shit together. So it made sense, really, that everything between Ian and Mickey had changed.
She’d noticed it that first morning, when she and Lip finally dropped by the house after weeks of hunkering down to have breakfast with everyone, carrying a box of cheap pastries they’d gotten on the walk over— and the first thing she’d noticed when she walked into the kitchen was how far apart Mickey and Ian were sitting, on opposite ends of the rickety kitchen table, any scarce dialogue between the two of them turned brittle and stale.
There were spats, now, and gentle shoves that turned less gentle; she and Lip weren’t around the house much anymore, thank fucking god, but what few conversations she did see between Ian and Mickey always ended with raised voices and them both practically having steam coming out of their ears, or with some stray bystander needing to plant themselves in the middle of the married couple to tell them to calm the fuck down. Tami would lock eyes with Lip as they scuffled in the kitchen, her eyebrows raised in a message that she knew Lip understood: “See, this is why I never want to get married.”
So that was pretty much the situation Tami expected to be walking into, late one afternoon when Lip was presumably off doing some shady shit with those stolen bikes and Tami was stuck at the Gallagher house waiting to meet up with him so they could keep working through “Operation Sell the Gallagher House to Gentrifiers.” Tami had expected Lip to be here a couple of hours ago, and was honestly debating just saying fuck it and going home— but Fred had passed out in Tami’s lap as they were sitting on the couch a couple of minutes ago and Tami was not going to wake this monster child up before he was ready and took another hour of crying and writhing to settle down again. Tami was leaning back, closing her eyes and enjoying a rare moment of peace in this godforsaken house… when she was snapped back into reality by the sound of a kitchen cupboard slamming shut.
Huh. Tami had apparently drifted off, but Freddie was still sound asleep in her lap, pinning her down. It was definitely the early evening by now— the sun had started to set, glowing purple from behind the thin curtains.
A clang came from the kitchen again, and Tami craned her neck as much as she could without stirring the sleeping toddler in her lap to peer into the kitchen from the open doorway to see if Lip was home— and instead, she saw Ian standing by the counter opening something with a can opener, and Mickey beside him.
It looked like they’d been in the kitchen a while—from the corner of her eye she could see Mickey perched on the countertop sipping a beer, his legs swinging while Ian milled around him pulling things from the cabinets and manning the stovetop. She knew both of the boys weren’t much of a cook, and from what she’d seen Ian’s culinary abilities didn’t exceed heating up canned soup or spreading butter on toast— but it looked like he was chopping onions and opening a can of black beans for something, which struck her by surprise. There was music playing low from a little portable speaker in the kitchen, presumably something Ian had brought down from the bedroom— right now there was some 80s hit playing that reminded Tami of the music her dad used to listen to while he was putzing around in the garage when she was little, if she was bring totally honest. But Mickey seemed to be enjoying it, his head bobbing slightly to the beat while he scrolled through what she recognized as Ian’s phone.
“Okay, the recipe website says you’ve gotta add cumin now. What the fuck is cumin?”
She could hear Ian’s dry laugh. “A spice? I think? We probably don’t even have it, I’ll just add a shit ton of chili powder and it’ll taste fine.”
“Whatever you say, Rachel Ray.”
Tami could see Ian lean to flip Mickey off, then turn to poke through the cabinets. Weird. Ian had flipped Mickey off, sure, but there wasn’t any malice in it; for the first time in a while, it seemed like the two of them were actually coexisting peacefully for once— which, thank god for that, at the very least because it meant Fred would stay sleeping on her lap for a while until Lip got home.
Now that she thought back on it, Ian and Mickey had seemed a bit more settled lately— she’d heard bits and pieces about all the stuff with Mickey’s abusive asshole of a dad moving in next door, and about the two of them starting a security business together in that random ambulance that was always parked in the street now (Tami wasn’t even going to ask)— she could imagine that running errands around Chicago together all day long in matching jumpsuits would bring anyone closer together. This was the first time she’d really seen them enjoy being in each other’s space since the pandemic started, just casually hanging out around the house without something fiery about to erupt between them, whether from anger or passion— and honestly, it was kind of nice to by in proximity to, just listening to their chatter floating back and forth and the sizzling of onions and chili flakes in a pan while the music drifted between them.
Tami sat there for a while, closing her eyes again as the shadows in the room grew deeper, listening to some Bon Jovi song play low in the background and feeling the solid weight of Fred breathing evenly pressed against her chest.
A couple minutes of minutes later, she heard the stove being turned off, and the clanking of plates being taken out of the cabinets as the song ended.
“Hey, can I pick a song?” Ian asked, over the sound of him putting the sizzling pan into the sink.
Mickey burped loudly, and Tami could see that he was still perched on the edge of the kitchen counter by the stovetop.
“Yeah, but put on something good, man. None of your techno bullshit.”
“Pass me my phone.”
Ian fidgeted with the phone for a moment—and then a familiar song, a lot softer than the cheerful drumbeats of the melodies before, came streaming through the speaker.
“I found a love, for me…”
Immediately, she heard Mickey chuckle loudly, like he was surprised.
“Fuuuucking softie,” Mickey groaned, but when Tami craned her neck again to slyly peer at the two of them in the kitchen she could see that he was grinning. At first Tami was confused, but then a memory started to stir— this was their wedding song, wasn’t it? She remembered hearing it waft through the front hallways of the dingy polka house while she and Lip were having their screaming match over Fred. Ah, good memories.
Ian stepped closer to Mickey, and Tami promptly heard the pad of Mickey’s feet hitting the ground as he slid off of the kitchen countertop.
“Dance with me?”
“You’re fucking ridiculous,” Mickey breathed, and then they were silent. From where she was sitting, Tami could see Ian’s broad shoulders standing in front of where Mickey had been seated— his head was curled downward slightly, and Mickey was pinned close against him, his face pressed into the upper half of Ian’s shoulder.
Well, damn. Tami smirked to herself. I guess that security business has worked some magic after all.
Out of nowhere, Fred started to stir and wriggle in Tami’s lap.
“Shit,” she muttered under her breath. She didn’t really want to break up the sappy moment, but Freddie was definitely due for a diaper change and was going to be a fussy mess in about five seconds if she didn’t scoop him up right now.
She quickly rose from the lumpy couch, cradling the back of Fred’s head in her hands and beelining through kitchen doorway.
Instantly, Mickey nearly jumped out his skin when he saw Tami— he immediately detached himself from Ian’s shoulder and detangled himself from Ian’s arms. Ian just grinned sheepishly and leaned against the counter, letting Mickey ever-so-slightly slump against him.
Tami paused, taking the scene in and trying to hold back a knowing smile as Freddie fussed on her shoulder.
“The fuck’re you looking at?”
Mickey’s neck turned blotchy and flushed, and he darted his eyes to Freddie and then back to Tami.
Tami knew she had a sloped, sappy smile on her face. “Nothing. Just good to see you guys not ripping each other’s throats out for once.”
Mickey let out a slight breath, slumping back towards Ian’s chest even more— then he rolled his eyes, but the gesture was light and fond.
“Yeah, yeah,” he said dismissively. Ian was still practically beaming, and draped a hand across Mickey’s waist— and Tami watched as he slowly, slowly pressed a kiss to Mickey’s temple and Mickey’s posture immediately softened, like the air was being let out of him.
Wow. Okay. Guess the old Ian and Mickey are back.
Tami raised Freddie slightly onto her shoulder, then pushed past the two of them towards the back stairs, where Tami could hopefully go up and change her son’s shitty diaper in peace— and as she started to climb the stairs, she heard one final quip from Mickey:
“Your brother can’t sell this house fast enough, man.”
#okay rori u wrote two fics in one day & now u must lesson plan#lol#but i hope u enjoyed!!!<3#gallavich#gallavich fic#shameless#shameless fic#ian x mickey#ian gallagher#mickey milkovich#ian and mickey#tami tamietti
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SMELLS LIKE QUARAN-NEROKIRI SPIRIT
Nero/Kyrie
“In quarantine, Nero and Kyrie spend time together.”
Rodeo’s Two Pieces:
First time writing for Nero/Kyrie. Tread lightly with my take of their dynamic.
(I)- Dalgona Coffee and Cookies.
Despite how everything was shut down and the grocery was found vacant of basic necessities, Nero was grateful to at least be with someone he loved the most.
“Look, we probably need some time off from kickin’ demon ass anyways,” Nico explained, smoking a cigarette during the video chat.
“Yeah, not like demons care about being six feet away. People don’t even do that.” Nero looked at himself in the little square in the corner of his phone. Clad in a grey hoodie, he hadn’t even bothered putting on anything over his boxers. No one had come to visit since the mandate to stay inside, what was the point?
Nico was in her garage again, from what he could see in the camera view. Cigarettes and old cups of coffee littered her desk, warbled country music playing off-view.
“Who knows, maybe I’ll make something to fix that. I was thinking a mask-gun, rapid-fire reloading.”
“Artisan of Arms, huh?” Nero laughed, getting up from his bed.
“You fuckin’ bet. Now I gotta go. Got some things to weld.”
“See ya, Nico. Stay safe, alright?”
“Yeah, yeah.” He gave a peace sign before pressing “end video call.”
The video chat ended and Nero tucked his phone into his pocket. Even banter just wasn’t the same virtually.
“Who was that? Nico?” Nero made it down the hallway to see Kyrie, bustling about getting things from the cupboards.
“Yeah, still building stuff as usual.”
Kyrie had been in their apartment’s kitchen, deciding to try her hand at some recipes she saw online. A bag of flour, too many bowls, and more chocolate than Nero remembered buying, all laid out on the table.
Just when he wanted something to eat, he’d have to wait or his girlfriend would practically make enough to feed an army and be surprised when he didn’t want anymore.
He opted for a cup of water instead.
Nero admired her hair, how it looked when it wasn’t in a ponytail, how it sat perfectly on her shoulders. Seeing how she started to measure some ingredients, he took the hair tie on his wrist, careful fingers bringing it into a low ponytail.
“Oh, thank you.” She commented, opening her booklet of recipes she had handwritten. Neat, slanted cursive in a smattering of blue, red, and black read out recipes for cookies, cakes, and bread.
“You look busy, planning to make all of those?” Nero rested his chin on her shoulder, shrouding her with warmth.
“Well, I don’t know how long we’re going to be stuck at home, might as well try some recipes out. Maybe we can deliver some to the orphanage.”
“That is if I don’t eat all your prototypes first.” She laughed, birdsong to Nero’s ears.
“As long as you help me I don’t mind if you do.” Kyrie handed him a measuring cup. Nero sighed, taking it. He always lost count of how many cups of flour he was supposed to put in the bowl.
A jar of porous dough caught his eye as he sifted some baking soda in his white mixture. He took it from Kyrie’s side of the island.
“Whoa, what is this? A science experiment?” Kyrie chuckled, watching Nero scrutinize the date on the white tape to the top of the mason jar.
“No, it’s a sourdough starter! It’s basically wild yeast. We can make bread with it since people bought out all the dry yeast in the grocery store.”
Nero shook it with curiosity and then opened the silver lid, making an “eh” face at the smell.
“It’s yeast alright.”
Kyrie continued whipping up the sugar and butter mixture, Nero helping himself to a handful of chocolate chips.
“Have you talked to your uncle and father? They must be staying at the shop in Redgrave.”
Nero shrugged.
“Most likely, I haven’t talked to them yet. Dante probably didn’t pay the phone bill and Vergil doesn’t know how to use the phone anyways.”
“Let’s just hope they’re getting along during this time.”
Nero thought back to all the “family outings” he had since his uncle and father returned from hell, mostly just jobs becoming contests of strength that turned to friendly family fights. Endless banter and elbowing.
Honestly, compared to that, standing next to his girlfriend while they shaped cookies for the oven was heaven.
Once the chocolate chip cookie dough was done baking, Kyrie insisted they make some whipped coffee while they cooled.
“I thought you didn’t like coffee, Kyrie.” She stooped down to find something in the lower cabinets. A robotic hand that was colored dark blue and black, his old Devil Bringer, appeared with a tiny whisk duct-taped to it.
“Yeah, but that TikTok made it look so good.” Nero handed her the glass container of instant coffee.
Turning on the Devil Bringer, the tiny whisk spun to life, rapidly mixing sugar, coffee, and water together. With her back turned, Nero popped a thing of cookie dough in his mouth.
“Honestly, Nico should have patented these Devil Bringers, make a bunch of money, and maybe she’d stop trying to rip me off all those times.”
“Support local businesses, Nero.”
He looked over her shoulder, surprised at how an abysmal brown mixture had become fluffy and thrice its previous volume.
Two cups of milk poured, the practically instantly whipped coffee laid on top like a decadent Mount Everest next to a still-warm plate of cookies.
“Cheers!” Kyrie clinked glasses with him, stirring her mug vigorously with a spoon. He copied her, taking a sip of surprisingly light and sweet coffee.
When he lowered his cup, Nero both revealed to the world a mustache of whipped coffee.
Kyrie snorted into her cup, covering her mouth as she bit back a laugh. Embarrassed, Nero went to wipe it off when Kyrie pecked him on the lips. She drew back to reveal an imprint of the ‘stache on her own upper lip.
“We match now.” Kyrie giggled, helping herself to another gooey cookie.
Half a plate of cookies and two mugs properly drained of its contents, Kyrie and Nero loaded up the dishwasher to do the work.
“This is coffee, why am I tired?” Kyrie yawned.
The couch was this god-awful IKEA purchase that took hours for Nero to just figure out what the instructions meant. But right now, it perfectly supported both of them while they slept away their food coma.
(II)- Curl Up And Dye.
After the second time the mandate got lengthened, Nero could sense that Kyrie was starting to wane in her ever-positive attitude. The news had nothing good to say, and the number of shows they had binged left them indifferent to watching anything more.
They did a lot of singing during quarantine, Kyrie always being the musical one. Evanescence was one of their favorites to sing together, Nero’s guitar skills and Kyrie’s ability to hit those high notes left many memorable nights of laughter.
After a while, Kyrie began to just sit on the couch a lot and have Nero pay her company.
“What’s wrong?” Kyrie sighed heavily, curling into Nero’s hoodie as he opted to stay shirtless.
“I don’t know Nero, it just feels like everything is the same. We go through the same things every day and I just feel...trapped.”
Nero kissed the nape of her neck, humming in agreement.
“Look, I’m usually the one going to you for stuff like this but...it will get better. It’s been a really hard time for all of us, and we’re just watching everything go downhill. It’s not a good situation but, you got me. Always. And there’s still a lot of things we can change up if that helps.” He stroked her hair and rubbed her back, feeling her take a deep breath.
“You’re right Nero. That really did help. Thank you for listening.”
“Of course.”
While he scrolled on his own phone, he didn’t heed all the things Kyrie was watching. She touched her own long hair, seeing the way other people recorded their own home-salon trims.
“Things to change, huh?” She mumbled.
So here they were now.
“It looks so bad!” Kyrie exclaimed, her face in her hands, hair on the bathroom sink. Nero shook his head.
“No it’s not, Kyrie! You look fine, just let me fix it!” In the mirror, Nero cringed at the way her hair was ridiculously over-layered.
“Um, what did you try to do-”
“Curtain bangs! Oh Nero, I shouldn’t have tried to change up my hair!” Kyrie was thoroughly upset, seeing how her bout of bravery lead to her bangs being mauled by her own hands.
Nero hugged her, noting that she had been wearing his shirt while she trimmed her hair.
Okay that shirt’s gonna itch for a while until all the hair comes out.
“It’s okay, let me see if I can fix it.” Kyrie blushed in the mirror, groaning at how bad her hair was cut.
“There’s no way you could make it worse than what I did.”
Nero gingerly took the scissors Kyrie put in the sink, a little bit too small for his hands but good enough. Although he was no stylist, he could tell where Kyrie had either cut too much off or unevenly.
Eventually, they did manage to cut it in a way that hid the previous mistakes. Kyrie took another deep breath.
“I shouldn’t have been so impulsive.” She murmured, arms crossed.
Nero chuckled at her rare emotional outburst. He was glad to have been able to be there for her. She always hid how she felt, helping others her way of expressing herself. Now with no one around but him, he totally understood that she felt helpless.
No one liked being helpless.
He kissed her cheek and a lightbulb went off in his head.
“You wanna dye my hair?” Kyrie turned around in surprise.
“What?”
“I mean, who knows how long this shutdown is gonna be, it’ll be fun,” Kyrie noted how Nero had forgone shaving, his peach fuzz becoming something more.
Honest blue eyes peered at her, wondering what she would think. Her surprise softened to a sort of relief in their solidarity.
“What color, Nero?”
“Neon green-”
“Nico’s going to make fun of you.” Kyrie giggled. Nero shrugged nonchalantly.
“I don’t mind it.”
(III)- Can’t Get Out Of It, Get Into It.
“Nero, you look so fucking ridiculous.”
“Shut up, Dante.”
His uncle finally managed to figure out how to work the virtual chat on his fossil of a computer, and Nero was already prepared to end the call.
His father sat slightly off-camera, not in the mood to entertain Dante’s antics to ridicule his son. Although, he did look oddly radioactive with his washed-out green hair and strong quarter-past five o’clock shadow.
“Quarantine did not do you a favor, good lord,” Dante commented, kicking his feet up on his desk. Nero flipped him off.
“Good to know you’re still living in shambles, not surprised neither of you cleaned up after yourselves.” The number of bottles on the floor was a travesty and the couch littered with poetry books Vergil had slowly begun to hoard.
Nico entered the zoom call, smoking another cigarette Nero was lucky to not have to smell.
“Nice broccoli head.”
Nero flipped her off as well. Kyrie came into view, smiling at her boyfriend’s family and their shared friends. Nero decided to get a drink, clicking a few buttons before letting Kyrie have the seat.
As they discussed how the business would continue with Devil May Cry, Kyrie sat next to Nero.
It was mainly business, until it got to a certain line that Dante said.
“I don’t know, it just feels like things are just going to keep staying like this. Hate to break it to you Nero, but it’s going to be tough for a while.”
Kyrie finally heard enough, scooching Nero aside so she could talk.
“Kyrie, wait-”
“We’re going to get past this. As long as humanity still keeps coming together for the sake of benefiting each other, and we keep working to make sure to keep safe, we will get past this. We just have to keep hoping, and sure, hoping isn’t always going to make you feel better. I would know. But in a time where we do feel helpless, we should connect with other people in a different way. That’s why we succeed, we keep moving, we keep adapting! And hope, hope keeps that going.”
Kyrie took a long breath. Looking at the dumbfounded group, she waited for a response.
“Um, Kyrie. You were muted.” Nero finally said. Kyrie realized her blunder and how Nero’s hand was attempting to unmute them.
“Oh.” Kyrie flushed, looking embarrassed.
“I have no idea what you just said, but that’s okay.”
“I’m sorry, that was so awkward.”
“Don’t worry yourself, Kyrie. I bet it was real sweet whatever you had to say,” Nico assured.
The zoom call was full of laughter since, a business call turned to a time to discuss how each person was doing.
Dante and Vergil had spent days and nights sparring, Vergil learning more about humanity from Dante, and “making their own pizzas.”
Nico had continued welding and making weapons for her own curiosity rather than based off of commission-based instructions. The van finally had the vinyl player fixed and she apparently gave herself a stick-and-poke.
“So what did you two love birds do?” Nico asked, lighting another cancer stick.
Nero and Kyrie looked at each other, smiling at their shared memories of this strange period in human history.
“Where do we even start?” Kyrie said, thinking of all the days and nights that seemed to breeze by and also slowly progress.
Nero ruffled his longer messy green hair, Kyrie tucking her curtain bangs behind her ear. As they were two peas in the pod, Nero had decided to get another set of gray sweats for Kyrie, matching finally.
Kyrie bit into a cookie, offering Nero some.
“Smells like quarantine spirit, huh?” Dante finger-gunned.
Nero chuckled.
“Hell yeah.”
#nirvana and dominic fike reference?#nirvana and dominic fike reference#not much vergil in this work i do not care for the man today#nero x kyrie#nerokiri#devil may cry#devil may cry fanfiction#nero sparda#kyrie#dmc kyrie#dante sparda#vergil sparda#nicoletta goldstein
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S5 Ep 15 Pt 1: The Gang Gets Lost in India
Ah, back to Yugioh classic. Sort of. We’re going into the second filler arc before Bakura, which I have been told is kind of nonsense. And youknow what, from the first scene--this is the first scene by the way--yeah I can see the nonsense.
We got Yami cosplaying as the Chrysler building, we got Yugi saying WTFWTF, we got...this thing?
This thing tells us “Join my game, Yugi!” and then the demon just kinda bounces.
K, bye, I guess.
(read more under the cut)
Waking up from this nightmare, Yugi reveals that he has outgrown his good pajamas. Or maybe he just overused them like I did to my favorite pajamas during quarantine (which, not gonna lie, I hand sewed my favorite pajama pants back together 2 or 3 times like they were the Velveteen Rabbit. Quarantine pajamas and me were like best buds for a year there.)
RIP Yugi’s good pajamas.
It’s fine. I’m fine.
I can get used to Yugi in his normal ass old man pajamas without any cute stars on them. I can accept this. He’s getting older. So much older that for a second I thought he was learning Hebrew, by the looks of his books on his counter. I thought...wow, is Yugi actually attempting to learn a language spoken around the time of ancient Egyptians???
But uh...I went a searching and unfortunately that’s not Hebrew, and if that is a language, I don’t know what it is. Pretty sure it’s just random marks because this show has to be translated in so many languages. Man. For a second there that looked like really sneaky world building, but nah, Yugi is still kind of a dumbass who has yet to attend a solid year of school.
Also, I got to take in this mustard yellow as if I’ve seen it for the first time.
It has strong building blocks energy. It’s...so much yellow and it’s extremely the vibe of that one set of animal crossing decorations that I have because it’s a very common recipe, but, can’t figure out for the life of me how to fit into any room.
What am I supposed to do with these, Nintendo? Other than recreate Yugi’s Muto’s haunted game store/house?
Like I live in the Bay area and we have wild painted houses so you can see them through the fog (back when we...still had fog, RIP California) --but this is a little much. This is such strong Protagonist energy but as a house.
Also, I’ve don’t think I’ve brought this up before, but like...Yugi is loaded, right? Like he’s way too good and humble to ever say he’s loaded, and they sort of make it seem like he’s not (when compared to Seto Kaiba) but damn, this location of his real estate sure is something. That and Grandpa’s tiny shop seems to run on a constant deficit and his family just doesn’t care.
We flash back a bit to Gramps sneaking out, and Yugi is like “oh great, my only Father figure I ever talk about is getting a backpack together and just...leaving without any notice, huh? Without telling me you were going to go? Didn’t think that would maybe be a little off putting?“ and Gramps is like “Yes?”
Like Gramps nearly died going to an amusement park a few episodes back so I can see why Yugi is a little bit concerned.
Down the street at a little town lottery, Joey is getting further into gambling (I don’t know what those little street lotteries are called, it’s in a lot of anime--but kinda looks like mom lotteries for moms.)
I’m not sure why India is on Joey Wheeler’s bucket list, seems a little random, but he went to Pegasus’ country, after all and that’s barely even a country.
Joey going nuts on a lottery machine instead of going to school was pretty peak filler, so I’m not really minding this stuff so far.
And then, just to spook me, check this out:
I can’t believe they even let them back into a classroom. In my nerd school, if you missed one too many days, you were sent to the bad schools to be someone else’s problem. But in Yugi’s case...that either IS his school or...Yugi is failing International School, which is just a thing he’s allowed to do, because, as I said before, this kid has got to be loaded. Even Seto Kaiba was like “I’m not spending money on this school anymore. That outfit is like 50 bucks a jacket.”
Youknow, I have seen all the other characters knock on Tea’s choice of cute ass monsters for the last 5 seasons, and she has never once changed them out. She is holding onto this scary seraphim thing with the many wings like every child with their first Pidgey. She does not care.
Also how is this thing cute?
like the front of this orb has a face with hearts on it but like...it is kind of remarkable what Yugioh decides is cute. Magma golem: not cute. this thing? This thing that looks like it’s a chibi version of the last chapters of the bible and will sound the trumpets of the second coming? So cuuuuute.
Tristan used to be the Janitor/hall monitor/square archetype. Like hell he can walk around with that 00′s R+B soundtrack.
Joey appears in order to get us the hell out of school, and the art team retires this school background for the rest of what I assume is this entire series.
Goodbye school. Maybe you’ll come back with Bakura. Which would be weird, since rumor is that arc takes place in ancient Egypt.
On their walk home, Tea lets out in an inner monologue that no one could hear that after 5 straight seasons of his BS, she’s sick and tired of Pharaoh being the center of attention all the time and she needs a freakin break.
TBH, as she was thinking in her head like “Pharoah is just so freakin much” Yugi switched over to Pharaoh and was like “WHATS UP TEA, THINKING ABOUT ME??” and I thought for a split second maybe he read her mind with his Pharaoh powers.
And like...maybe he did? Seems like a thing he can just do but chooses not to tell anyone about. I mean would you tell anyone? I wouldn’t.
So, unlike Miho in Season Zero, who at least had the decency to try to take her Mother to Australia, Joey Wheeler has wisely decided that the 3 other ticket holders will not be the 3 other members of his immediate family. That would have been the most awkward trip between Serenity, his mother he hasn’t really spoken to in 7 years, and his absent father who was written out of the series for being a raging alcoholic. They would have not even made it to the plane.
Instead he’s gonna take the ghost in Yugi’s head and call that an adult (two tickets in one, really). It’s honestly not that bad of a plan, since his only other father figure, Grandpa, is MIA, and his only other, other father figure, Roland, charges like 300 dollars an hour and wants stock options and health insurance.
And honestly they should have taken Roland because he’s one of their best plane guys.
So they take the smallest little Amelia Earheart plane in the world, going from Japan to (checks map) India...which 2 times the distance this plane can go and it crashes...which is exactly what would happen if you took a teeny tiny plane over the Himalayan mountains without refueling that thing.
We call this a magical incident later in the episode, but this is just basic math.
So, fun fact, (and probably why I discuss planes so often on this blog) two of my Grandfathers were pilots (well, three, since my grandmother remarried another pilot), which sounds like a crazy coincidence until you recall that their generation was in WW2 and we just shoved children in planes for 20 years and called that normal.
Anyway, to save on travel costs, my engineer Grandfather built his own plane out of junkyard parts, which, as you can imagine, is a living nightmare, and it was held together by like duct tape and gasoline (which at one time used to be cheap). Tempted God every day that Howls Moving Castle touched the sky.
And while I only know it from photos since I wasn’t exactly born yet, it looked exactly like this plane. So looking at this, all I can think is...yeah...that’s what you get for flying to India in a tin can car. To this day I cannot trust any plane of this size.
So, they climb out of their wreckage virtually unscathed and into familiar Californian territory.
At least Joey thought about bringing a tent.
It’s interesting how our cast has become so accustomed to this that they’re not even all that shell shocked. It’s just another day in the life.
So next time we shall find out what India has in store for us. Or if we’re even in India...because again...feels a lot like this BG team doesn’t do any research into their landscapes and every place feels a whole lot of the same. But...at least they didn’t put any Arizonan mesas in India.
#Yugioh#YGO#yu-gi-oh#recap#photo recap#S5#Yugi Muto#Joey Wheeler#Tristan Taylor#Tea Gardner#School?????#A really ass plane#gambling#And a trip to India
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so. i have been thinking. i know you said you wanted drabble ideas, but this is just a thought i had. how would the creeps react to seeing their s/o after a long time away? like, what do they do while they can't see their s/o? when they can see them in-person again, how is it? like, it's been months since they've seen each other and now they get to be together again?! :) (quarantine loneliness has low-key been getting to me lately tbh 😔) - dove anon 🕊️
Please excuse my shitty layout i have no idea how to use tumblr on a computer (thanks ava for letting me use your laptop at work)
Also Im gonna include your favorites because you're my favorite.
Toby
So Toby is a very clingy person(?)
He craves attention, validation and emotional security
This mans would be a mess without his s/o around
You guys would be apart a lot considering you’d either be a proxy OR a human
You’d be used to him being gone alot because of missions but if it was for more then a week he’d have a hard time
During the time you were gone he’d call you A LOT
And on face time, not just calling or texting
He’d excitedly seggust you stay up all night
Three nights in a row
He would send you his hoodie in the mail or leave it in your room if it was quarentine or something
Would tell you everything about his day and send pictures of the smallest things that reminded him of you
He’d need a lot of support and love on your end
When he finally sees you again no matter your size you’re getting tackled in a hug
Lots of face kisses and nuzzling his face in your chest
He wants to play with your hair, look into your eyes, everything he couldn’t do before
Good luck getting away, this dude plans on keeping you in his lap for as long as he can
Tons of cuddling and him filling you in on absoulutely everything
When he’s done talking he’ll sit there and wait patiently while you tell him all about your life
Will be 100% you changed something about yourself even if you look the exact same
Masky
Tim is a grr im too cool for this shit kinda guy
But will melt upon seeing his s/o for the first time in a while
For this I kinda imagine maybe you’d have something outta town?
He would scroll through his phone all the time
Read old texts, look at old photos, hell he’d scroll to the end of your social media timeline
Constantly look at something when you posted
If you had a favorite food or something your favorite show- it’d be weird to him without you though
This dude would get so upset each day he woke up without you
Would call you just to hear your voicemail
Whenever you do have time to talk to him lots of asking if everythings ok
“I’ll come down there if I have to, it’s not a problem”
Just wants to make sure you’re okay as you can be
When you do come back he feels a bit awkward not sure how to express his emotions
Will offer lots of activities to do
Hiking, watching a movie, whatever you’d like
He’d hang around a lot more then he usually does
Wouldn’t be as clingy (physically) as Toby but would keep his arm around you
If he’s in the right mood might even make you breakfast or something
If you’re away for a REALLY long time he’d take picture of pretty views and make them into little postcards to send you
Babes doesn’t know how to express himself
Ben
As possesive as this little shit is
Thinks ‘Oh yeah I won’t miss em THAT much’
But thats because he can reach you like anywhere there’s a screen
Once he learns theres no devices allowed (where ever you are I dunno)
Automatically everything changes he’s like “Wait- wait what”
And suddenly he feels emotions
Tries his best to convince you not to go or to tag along
“Fit me in your suitcase I’m t i n y!”
Will definetely get discouraged when you keep telling him now
This petty bitch would consider the silent treatment
Only consider because you’d be leaving you soon
When you leave he tries to tough it for the first few days
But not having you around REALLY gets to him
Would bug everyone else for attention and shit
When they eventually get tired of his shit he starts plotting
Lets say you were like doing one of those long cross country trips
Where you stay in hostels and shit
This dude would have like a 35 step plan just to show up in your room
and be like “I told you so!” “...Ben how are you gonna get back home?”
“...Fuck-”
Would sulk around at the fact he was kinda dumb
Inbetween laughs you’d comfort him
Spend time with him as much as you could before he had to go back
From there he’d wait around his phone until you had internet to talk
As soon as you get back he hangs around you
When you’re watching TV hes there
Even if you can’t see him
Will NEVER admit how much he missed you
But you both know
Jeff
So out of all these salty crackers this mother fucker is the saltiest
like so much damn salt the ocean is jealous
sorry I just like bullying Jeff
Anyway! He’d try and get you stay with really shitty tactics
Like he’d take your toothbrush or some shit
“Aw dam what a shame you cant go anymore, why don’t we go watch some TV”
Dumb potinless arguing like “Why do you h a v e to go, you’re not gonna die. What if I die while you’re gone? How would you feel then hUH!?”
Will sit there sulking as you get ready to go cause he wants to see you leave
As soon as you leave he’s calling and checking in to make sure you’re ok
Would send you texts every morning for you to wake up too
Would scroll through your social media and accidently do the thing where you like a 5 year old photo
Panic
Quickly unlikes it and tosses the phone in the corner
begone demon!
He’d look through stuff on your desk or maybe a sketch book you left behind
Read old books you like
Just chill in your room all day cause he misses you
Has the day you’re coming back marked on a calendar
When you come back he‘s like “Yeah you’re never leaving again”
Picks you up and takes you to his bed or something
Yeah you guys are sitting there and cuddling until someone dies
#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#Jeff the killer headcaons#Masky#maksy headcanons#tim wright#masky x reader#ben drowned#ben drowned x reader#ticci toby#ticci toby x reader
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Who Ever Said Anything About Makeup?
hi hi hello loves! i promise i’m not putting anyone else’s requests that came first behind i just saw this from @mrs-spookyd1az and almost died🥺 so i hope you enjoy this lil fic and I HOPE YOU ENJOY MEETING BABY GIRL EVANS🤍
You smiled and waved at your phone as you sat in front of your lit-up vanity in the master bathroom. Tons of people had already shown up and were spamming you with comments and likes.
“Hi guys, it’s (Y/N) Evans!” You grinned. “This is my first ever livestream! I’m a model for Ulta Beauty and Aerie, and today I thought I’d show you my skin and makeup routine!” You said happily. “I know quarantine has been getting us down, so I hope this provides a distraction!” People were commenting so fast and spamming you with compliments, and you giggled. “Thanks for all the love already, let’s get started.” You winked.
Your hair was damp and you were in a fuzzy white bathrobe after just getting out of the shower. You thought that you should do this while your face was still fresh. Though you were a model and set an example for beauty, you weren’t afraid to show your natural self and remind how beautiful everyone was in their own skin.
The companies you worked for were good at that. Ulta embraced everyone for who they are, along with Aerie being so body positive. You only worked with companies like that who didn’t have unreal ideals of beauty. You could always count on Aerie and Ulta to welcome and make everyone feel special.
“So first what I normally do is put on a light moisturizer, nothing much because I hate the feeling of something dense or oily on my skin,” you explained. You showed them your moisturizer tub and quickly scooped a little out, working it into your skin. You smiled and grabbed your eyeshadow palette. “Now since I’m obviously not going anywhere today I’m not going to put on any foundation, but we can get right to this eye look-“
There was a loud babble in the background and you froze and sighed. People in the comments began raving, asking if that was your daughter.
Thirteen months ago, you and Chris had decided you two had wanted a baby. Though it was time for him to be filming Knives Out, he was getting major baby fever after four months of marriage. And in no time you were pregnant. So nine months later, Bianca Elise Evans was welcomed into the world right after Christmas.
It was no secret you and Chris had a baby. It was adorable to think how he gushed to all his cast members at the end of Avengers Endgame about your pregnancy. You remembered having such a stressful yet exhilarating time trying to keep Chris quiet at the premiere and avoid any “future baby” questions from reporters. You remembered finally making a video for Chris to post on Twitter of your pregnancy announcement. He gushed about you and his future baby wherever he went, wether it was to film or in interviews. You had briefly taken a break from modeling at that time, just to cut down on stress.
He cried at the gender reveal when he found out he was going to have a little girl. It was one of the best moments of his life. He showcased your baby bump at the Knives Out premiere and was such an adorable dork about it. He had a hand on your belly almost the whole time, and wether or not reporters asked about it he would bring up his daughter.
And when the time finally came for you to give birth, he cried when his little girl came into the world. The two of you had decided on Bianca since it was such a classy yet strong name. Since the two of you were both Disney freaks, you made the connection of the confident and feminine white mouse from one of your favorite classics The Rescuers. You couldn’t think of a more suitable name for your new baby girl.
You leaned your head back to call for your husband.
“Chris?” You called. No answer. (At this time, some viewers were beginning to make the astonishing connection that you were married to the Chris Evans.) “Chris?” You tried again. He was probably doing a workout while Bianca was asleep, and now she was awake. “Sorry guys, one moment please,” you smiled at the camera. The comments exploded with excitement for getting ready to see your baby.
You walked right into your room and looked through the bars on Bianca’s crib. She whined as she reached for her mom in the darkness of your room. You reopened the curtains to let in some light.
“Oh good morning Bia,” You cooed as you picked her up. She sucked on her fingers as you brushed through her messy brown tufts. You kissed her cheek as you made your way back to your vanity. You sat down with the sleepy baby in your lap and smiled as the comments blew up with heart-eye emojis.
“So for those of you who don’t know, this is Chris and I’s daughter Bianca,” You said happily as Bianca’s blue eyes stared in confusion at the screen in front of her. “She’s four months old,” you added as you read a comment that caught your eye. She rubbed her eyes and blinked her long eyelashes. Bianca was looking to be a carbon copy of Chris, and there was nothing you could do about it.
“So while Chris is doing whatever he’s doing, Bia will be joining us for a while,” your voice got lighter and more cheerful as you glanced down and bounced your daughter. You grabbed a colorful makeup palette and a few brushes. “So I got this palette at Ulta, and this one is really useful for more colorful and vibrant looks,” you explained. You could tell the viewers were more interested in your daughter than what you had to say about makeup, and you chuckled.
“Bia I think you’re stealing the show here, princess!” You teased. Bianca began to coo loudly and pat at your hands in gesture for you to hold hers. You held her tiny hand gently and tried to begin talking again.
“So I’ve got a few brushes here that honestly aren’t too big in size, but they’ll work well for what we’re going with.” You held up about three brushes. Bianca managed to wiggle one out from your grip and try to stick it in her mouth, but you gently pulled it away.
“Ah, not today miss,” you told her and looked around. “Where is Chris...” You muttered. Just then you heard footsteps come up the stairs and walk into your room. You leaned your head back and said “Chris” before your husband turned and smiled at you. He gave Bianca an even bigger smile before walking into the bathroom to check out the scene.
You sighed playfully. “Everyone, please welcome my husband, Mr. America’s Ass,” you teased unenthusiastically as Chris pulled up a stool next to you and laughed that adorable laugh of his. Bianca reached her hands out to her dad and Chris gently moved her from your lap to his.
“What have we got going on in here?” He asked before glancing at the phone with a smile.
“Well I was trying to do a makeup tutorial, but you and B decided to come and steal the show huh?” You joked and smiled down at your daughter to rub the top of her head. Chris chuckled as he read some of the comments.
“‘What a hottie,’” Chris read aloud before breaking out into laughter and causing his little girl to smile. You slugged him playfully in the arm.
“See? Stealing the show,” you remarked. He acted serious for a moment and held up a hand.
“(Y/N), (Y/N), don’t hate me because I’m beautiful,” he said. The two of you laughed and he glanced at the livestream. “Though I’d love to stay and chat, someone has to be fed,” Chris explained to the camera. He didn’t want to interrupt your livestream, he knew how much this stuff meant for your career.
“And by that ‘someone’ he means himself,” you added with a smile. He laughed.
“Thanks for watching everyone, enjoy!” Chris said as he waved to the camera. He quickly pecked you on the lips before carrying his daughter downstairs. You glanced at your phone as all the comments were about Chris and Bianca. You chuckled.
Maybe you’d have to save makeup for a different day.
i hope you enjoyed that lil fluff🥺 bianca is free to be requested in any cevans fics from now on🤍 thanks for all the support, i love you all!
#cevans#cevans x reader#christopher robert evans#chris evans#chris evans x reader#chris evans imagine#chris evans fanfiction#dad!chris evans x reader#marvel#marvel cinematic universe#chris evans x pregnant!reader#chris evans x you#chris evans x female reader#knives out#coronavirus#covid 19
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Quarantine
Pairing: Bruce Banner x Reader
Description: Bruce has taken on a job as a surgeon during the pandemic (thanks to that med school degree), but he has to quarantine every day after work in order to keep you safe. Lots of fluff, some sexy stuff at the end.
Warnings: Pandemic mentions, sexy stuff, surgery mentions
Words: 800+
A/N: This was inspired by the current situation that I’m living with my boyfriend. He works at a hospital in the ICU, so he has to quarantine to be safe. Please don’t read if you want to escape the pandemic, I know some people do. But this story just needed to be written.
“You know, it’s hard to make scrubs look sexy.” You told your husband through the FaceTime call.
Bruce Banner rolled his eyes and smirked, pulling on his navy scrub top over his long sleeved undershirt. His laptop rested on a desk that allowed you to watch him get dressed for the morning. “You’ve never told me that I looked good in scrubs before. Is me being quarantined really getting to your brain?” He asked.
You sighed, flopping onto your bed. Yours and Bruce’s bed. “It really has. I just want to touch you again. I want to hear your voice in person, not through a phone. I want to smell you again.” You explained, adjusting the distance between your phone and your face.
Bruce sat on the edge of his bed, pulling his socks onto his feet. “You want to smell me again?” He chuckled to himself. “Surely I don’t smell that great.”
You giggled and shook your head. “You smell like home. Like coffee and coconuts. I know you were using my shampoo for a while.” You responded.
“Yeah, because it smelled better than mine. I don’t want to smell like Old Spice.” Bruce teased.
“So you asked Tony to put coconut shampoo in your quarantine room?” You asked, watching as your husband began to tie his sneakers.
“Hell no. If I did, I’d never hear the end of it.” Bruce answered.
You laughed with him before looking next to you on the bed. Bruce’s side of the bed. His weighted blanket was still there. You smiled and moved to snuggle under it.
“Do you miss your weighted blanket?” You asked.
There was silence for a moment as Bruce sat at the desk where his laptop was placed. You could see him clearly now. The silver swatches of hair had begun to take over more of his dark curls. It had clearly been a few days since he shaved as you could see his mostly grey beard beginning to take shape. He made getting old look sexy as hell. But clearly this pandemic was stressing him out. Bruce volunteered to work at the local hospital as a cardiothoracic surgeon. Apparently, that was his specialization from medical school. The hospital was incredibly grateful to have him, especially since he had almost no fatalities among his patients.
“I thought I wouldn’t be able to sleep without it because I’m so used to it. But when I get home every night, I’m just so tired.” Bruce explained, resting his head on a propped elbow.
You nodded, still taking in his appearance. “You look so tired, baby.” You noted. “How does your schedule look today?” You asked.
Bruce looked up, trying to collect his thoughts. “I have a double lung transplant at 8 this morning that was supposed to be last night, but the patient’s stats were terrible. Usually I can finish those in 6 hours…but with this patient, it may take 12. Then I have a wedge resection, which is removing a lobe of the lung. That’ll take 3 hours, but again, maybe more with the patient’s condition.” He explained, rubbing the bridge of his nose.
You wished you could be there to hold him, to relieve some of that stress that he couldn’t let go of. “The virus is really taking a toll on them, huh?” You said, mainly to yourself.
Bruce nodded. “Tony’s projections for our vaccine predict that we can start distributing in a few weeks, after the FDA approves it. The trials have been going very well.” He added.
You smiled softly, letting yourself sink farther into the pillows of the bed. “That’s good. I hope he’s right. For the patients’ sake and mine.” You said.
Bruce smiled slightly. “For your sake?” He questioned.
“Yeah. I’m losing my mind without you here.” You answered. “I know you’re doing important things and saving the world like always…but I just need you.” You couldn’t think of a better way to phrase it. It was simple. You just needed Bruce.
Your husband chuckled to himself and leaned back in his desk chair. “Oh, sweetheart, you have no idea. I need you, too. In more ways than one.” He said with a wink.
You felt your cheeks heat up. You smirked and sat up. “Oh really?” You teased before looking at the clock. “You still have about 30 minutes until you have to leave, yeah?” You asked.
Bruce looked at his watch and nodded. “Yeah.”
You carefully got out of the bed and placed your phone against the lamp on your nightstand. You backed up enough so that your full body was in view. Slowly, you ran your hands up your stomach, pulling the thin material of your shirt with it. “Then maybe this will hold you over until tonight.” You said before pulling your shirt off your head.
Bruce let out an unsteady breath as he began to untie the waistband of his scrubs. “Yeah,” he agreed with a devilish grin, “this should help.”
#bruce banner x reader#bruce banner imagine#bruce banner x you#bruce banner#hulk#the incredible hulk#hulk x reader#hulk x you#avengers#marvel#mcu
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Missing You
You’ve been having some trouble with yourself during the pandemic. Fortunately, your boyfriend is there for you every step of the way. Title inspiration: Missing You by All Time Low. Written for @ssebstann‘s writing challenge!
Pairing: Chris Evans x female reader
-
“Sweetheart?” You heard Chris say as he leaned in the door frame of his room, crossing his arms. He was wearing a pair of sweats and a white t-shirt that was a little too big, but his hair had been fixed and he’d obviously been awake for a while. You squirmed in bed a little and turned over to look at him. He saw you and sighed, noticing that you hadn’t been sleeping. You'd just been laying there, staring at the wall.
“Hey,” you said quietly, yawning as you sat up.
“You feelin’ okay?” He asked, walking over to you and putting a caring hand to your forehead. You nodded.
“Yeah, just tired,” you lied. He smiled at you, ruffling your hair.
“Just checking. I’m gonna go get our groceries, I’m just getting a pickup. When I get back I’ll start on dinner, alright?” You nodded again, kissing him, and then he left.
That was the same kind of interaction you’d been having for weeks. He’d asked you to quarantine with him and abandon your apartment, even though you’d only been dating for six or seven months. He knew that you were going through a rough time, and he didn’t want to take the chance of not being able to see you for an indefinite amount of time. So you’d agreed. But soon enough, he’d lost his bright, bubbly girlfriend. You’d been replaced with someone he didn’t know how to help, no matter how much he wanted to.
You’d lost your job about a week into all of the pandemic stuff, and you constantly checked for your unemployment checks that just weren’t coming. Chris was having you do little things for him here and there to keep you occupied, like having you do some of the social media for ASP, but even that came crashing to a halt when the launch was delayed. You had a family member die and there was no funeral to go to and you couldn’t just fly to your hometown anymore.
You acted like you were fine and everything was normal, but it wasn't. Chris could see it. He saw it in the way you almost never got out of bed anymore, the way you didn’t even try to do your hair or your makeup or wear real clothes even though you almost always did that before. He saw you lose motivation to do literally anything except take a daily shower and eat, and as you started gaining weight from it you only became more insecure with your body. You barely let him touch you the way he used to, only because you said you were tired. His heart was absolutely breaking for you, especially when he heard you crying in the shower, but he didn’t know what to do.
He’d talked you into seeing your old psychiatrist, thinking maybe some medication would help, but you would forget about it most days until he nagged you to the point of tears. He knew it was only a matter of time before you stopped eating or you had a full breakdown. He couldn’t do much, but he could try, and that was what he intended to do.
He returned half an hour later with grocery bags, knowing better than to expect for you to have gotten out of bed to help. Normally you were more than happy to help. But lately it seemed like you were the one that needed it more, he thought as he unloaded all of the groceries. He walked back up the stairs to see that you were in the same place you were before. Pausing in the doorway, he knew what he needed to do.
“Babe?” He asked. “You hungry? I’ll make your favorite pasta.” He took his shoes off and crawled onto the bed beside you, pulling your back to his chest even though you were under the covers.
“No,” you replied. He sighed, reaching over to grab your hand and pull it to your rapidly thinning stomach.
“What happened to my happy girl, huh? You’ve never said no to pesto pasta.”
“I’m just not hungry,” you replied. You felt the tears start coming to your eyes and he had a feeling that they were coming too. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. Just eat for me. Please, angel?” You turned toward him when you heard his voice. He was desperate, upset, all because of you. He never called you angel, ever, unless something was wrong and he needed to be easy with you. That made you want to be defiant, to say no, but you couldn’t. You just couldn’t. You laid there for a minute and you let the tears come because it was the only thing you knew how to do. You started crying and he gave you space, removing his hand from yours and starting to rub up and down your side. His lips pressed against the back of your head as he just let you cry.
“I feel like I’ll throw up if I do.”
“You only feel like that because you haven’t. Just do this, for me, alright, baby? And then we can cuddle up and watch Peter Pan if you want.” You sniffled and laid there for another minute, limp, before forcing yourself to get up. “Good girl. Come on.”
You walked downstairs after Chris, hearing Dodger’s tag on his collar as he followed the two of you. You sat down on the couch for the first time in ages, taking your old spot, and Dodger jumped up onto your lap like he knew you were hurting. Chris just went to the kitchen and fixed dinner, moving every so often to get a better view of you in the other room. You had stopped crying, but he had a feeling that this slump was far from over. He was just worried. Worried you’d hurt yourself without even realizing it.
He snuck up the stairs as the water was boiling to go to your side of the bed. Your pill bottles were empty. So you were taking them, or you had been taking them, until you ran out. How long had you been out? He would’ve picked them up for you if he knew, but... He sighed and walked back down to finish making food.
You ended up eating every bite he gave you - he made sure not to give you an overwhelming amount, just enough so that you would eat all of it, and sat beside you instead of across from you. He put a hand on your back as he tried to talk to you, just about anything, to get you talking again. You’d been all but silent for days and he just wanted to hear your voice again. His favorite voice.
“Good girl. Go pick a movie and I’ll clean up here,” he said sweetly, patting your back. You got up and walked back to the couch, sitting down in an almost robotic way. You got better when he joined you and nearly forced you to cuddle up with him. And you fell asleep halfway through the movie, something he wished he could get used to again, in his arms. He kissed you awake, smiling down at you.
Soon enough the credits were rolling and he sat up a little bit, waking you up, and you turned to him with concerned eyes. That feeling, that pit in your stomach, was starting to form again when you saw him. He just looked so sad to see you the way you were. He looked... disappointed.
“Are you mad at me?” You asked timidly, refusing to look him in the eyes. Instead you laid your head in his shoulder, breathing in the slightly faded scent of cologne. He started rubbing at your back, shaking his head.
“No, angel, I’m not mad at you. I’m just worried about you. I’m so worried about you. You haven’t been eating, you’ve barely been sleeping... I saw your empty pill bottle, too, and...”
“I spilled them so I threw them away.”
“You threw them away?” His voice went cross without him meaning to make it that way, earning a flinch. “I’m not mad. I’m not mad,” he assured you. “How long?”
“I don’t know.” You both were silent for a minute, taking in the weight of what you’d said. You didn’t even know what day it was, what week it was. Hell, you didn’t know if it was still 2020. All you knew was that you were letting him down. Maybe he was better off without you. Maybe he didn’t need you like he said he did. Maybe he just didn’t want to leave you because you were too sad, maybe...
“Baby, I want you to be honest with me,” he said. “And I don’t want you to get mad at me, because I’m not accusing you of anything. But I just need to know. Are you hurting yourself like this on purpose? Punishing yourself?” You stuttered to form a response, tumbling over your words.
“Chris,” you finally muttered, tears coming into your eyes before you could stop them. You were mad, you couldn’t help it. You were pissed. “No!”
Your voice came out like a desperate cry, angry but admitting exactly what he didn’t want to hear. He tried to grab onto you, but you got up first. He followed you, and even though he knew you wanted space, he wasn’t going to let you fall into an even worse place by letting you think.
“Just sit down!” He said finally, following you up the dark staircase. He re-directed you into his office, and you immediately fell onto the couch in the corner. You were all but throwing a fit, just angry that he would even think you were intentionally hurting yourself. You were, but that wasn’t the point. He was...
“Why don’t you trust me?” You asked, your eyes brimming with tears. “You’re supposed to trust me?”
“Because I can’t! I want to, but God, you’re hurting yourself and you’re not answering me. I’m trying to figure out how to help you because you can’t or won’t help yourself.” You looked up at him to see tears in his eyes. he was hurting, maybe just as bad as you were, because of the way you were acting. You were the one hurting him. This was all your fault. All of it. Suddenly you felt more guilty than you ever had in your life and you were standing up, walking over to him and hugging him tightly.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I didn’t know I was hurting you too. I wasn’t trying to hurt myself, I just was, and I was so...” You stopped talking, not really sure how to say what you wanted to say. He hugged you back, then led you back over to the couch. The two of you cuddled right up together, like you always did, and he rubbed your back with his hand to calm you down before a storm could start. For some reason, you didn’t want to cry it out. You just wanted to lay there, in his arms, and be at peace.
“Baby, you’re hurting yourself. So much more than you realize. And you can’t just keep doing it, you have to admit it and let me help you. Just let me help you, please, baby girl, okay? I miss you. I miss you so, so much. I just want my happy girl back, no matter how much I have to help you heal.”
“Okay,” you promised, sniffling a little.
“Just hold on and let me take you on the ride if you’re too scared to get on, okay?” He said to you. You briefly thought about your first trip to Disney together, where he’d said almost those exact words about a roller coaster you were scared to go on. He’d helped you get over it then and he was helping you get over this now.
“Okay.”
“How about we go get some of those one dollar plates from Walmart and we throw ‘em in the backyard? Or we can paint one of the walls black? Or we can get in the car and I’ll play your favorite Taylor Swift album and you can sing all the words?” You shook your head, feeling the way that his stomach was moving up and down with each breath.
“I just want to be right here. With you. Is that okay?” You asked. He moved a little until he could grab the blanket that you would sometimes use if you napped while he was working. He spread it out over the two of you and let Dodger jump up until the three of you were in a big pile of cuddles.
“It’s always okay.”
#chris evans x female reader#chris evans x reader#chris evans imagine#chris evans fanfiction#chris evans fluff
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Ah! Hi I just found your blog and I’m so glad you posted your rules! I never want to cross boundaries! Could I request a Shinso, Denki, Todoroki, Iida, and Dabi reaction of their s/o in a shared apartment with the two of them but their s/o wears r e a l l y short shorts either while cooking, just chilling, or anything? It can be sfw or nsfw whichever you’re feeling is fine! And how are you doing with the whole quarantine thing? I hope you and your family are safe and healthy! Take care, love🥺❤️
A/N: I’m doing good!! Online school is annoying as heck but now I finally got the time to start this writing blog. I’m gonna stick for sfw headcanons but I guess they’re still slightly suggestive? Idk, I just suck at writing smut :P also, I just noticed I forgot to do Todoroki but this is already pretty late so (ノ*°▽°*)
How would they react if their S/O wears really short shorts at home?
Shinsou Hitoshi
👾 As Shinsou prepared the popcorn, you were deciding what to wear.
👾 You were going to have a movie night with your boyfriend after a long day of hero work.
👾 You decided upon a pair of booty shorts and a tank top since you were probably going to fall asleep midway anyway.
👾 You got changed and walked towards your shared living room.
👾 “Can you choose the movie, y/n? I’m still frying the-”
👾 He lost his train of thought when he looked at you and his expression changed slightly.
👾 “Nice outfit,” he said with a smirk.
👾 As you cuddled into him during the movie, you could feel his hand slowly moving south.
👾 “So that’s why you like the outfit huh,” you teased, his face going red immediately.
👾 He tried playing it off to no avail by making some excuse about the remote being under you.
👾 “You’re lucky you’re cute.”
👾 After that night, you made sure to wear shorts around him more often, gaining a smirk every time you did.
Iida Tenya
🌀 Oh boy is he embarrassed.
🌀 The first time you wore them you were baking a cake.
🌀 You always got annoyed when your clothes got messy after baking so you threw on your shorts and an old shirt you had lying around.
🌀 When he saw you, he didn’t notice at first. After all, you were wearing an apron.
🌀 But when you turned around…
🌀 *anime nosebleed*
🌀 “Y-y-y-y/n!”
🌀 “Huh?”
🌀 His entire body was red, and he was frozen in place.
🌀 After some seconds of trying to figure out what has gotten into him this time, you connect the dots.
🌀 You face turns a light shade of pink.
🌀 “Oh, do you like them?”
🌀 His hands are shaking as he moves his arms in chopping motions.
🌀 “I really do.”
🌀 You come close to him and kiss him, letting him grab you wherever he wants.
🌀 After that, you made sure to wear more shorts around him.
🌀 He loves your booty, and always appreciates when you wear your shorts so that he can admire it.
🌀 Still, he’s very respectful and makes sure not to cross any boundaries. He doesn’t want to make his favorite person uncomfortable.
Todoroki Touya Dabi
🖤 You and Dabi had moved in together not too long ago and you wanted to see his reaction to something new.
🖤 You had bought them the week before and you knew this was the perfect moment.
🖤 While wearing the shortest shorts you had ever owned, you walked over to Dabi, who was sitting on the couch playing animal crossing.
🖤 You sat on his lap and he complained about you messing his game.
🖤 “Y/n! I was about to place-”
🖤 That’s when he noticed what you were wearing.
🖤 game: forgotten.
🖤 HE IS SO HANDSY!
🖤 Literally can’t take his hands off of you.
🖤 “Y/n, you can’t do stuff like this,” he says as you turn to face him and he gets a handful of you; “it drives me wild.”
🖤 After that, wearing shorts around him became much more common.
🖤 Whenever he sees you in short shorts around the house, his brain just goes: Grab
🖤 Although he mostly does it on impulse, he always asks if it’s okay to do so.
🖤 However, once you give him the green light, he goes rampant.
🖤 Needless to say, there are times where his marks stay on your skin for weeks.
Kaminari Denki
⚡ It was a hot summer afternoon the first time you did it.
⚡ You were wearing extremely short shorts that shouldn’t even be allowed to be called shorts.
⚡ Half of your butt was hanging out and, if you leaned forward just a bit, your underwear was visible.
⚡ You were prepping dinner when Kaminari walked into the kitchen.
⚡ You were looking away from him, concentrated on making sure you didn’t burn your apartment down.
⚡ As he saw you, his eyes quickly diverged down your back until…
⚡ He sees them.
⚡ His brain short-circuits, and this song starts playing.
⚡ “Y-y/n,” he stutters, “w-what are you wearing?”
⚡ When you turn around and see him, his expression said it all.
⚡ He was blushing hard and his eyes were devouring you.
⚡ “Oh, these?” you asked pointing at your attire, “I was just hot and needed to wear something more breezy.”
⚡ “I can see that,” he replied, his eyes never leaving your body. ⚡ “Hot temperature-wise”
⚡ “Oh.”
⚡ Let’s just say, things got heated pretty quickly after that, and it wasn’t because of your clothes.
#shinsou#shinsou hitoshi#shinsou x reader#shinso#shinso hitoshi#shinso x reader#shinsou imagine#dabi#dabix reader#dabi imagines#dabi bnha#kaminari#kaminari denki#kaminari x reader#denki x reader#kaminari bnha#shinsou bnha#iida tenya#iida x reader#iida imagine#iida tenya x reader#tenya x reader#iida bnha#bnha#mha#bnha x reader#mha x reader#mha fanfiction#mha imagines#bnha fanfiction
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Now, for the fake quarantine dating au aka the Fuyumi has gone feral au, we’ve now got 3/4 todoroki siblings hanging around the league of villains. Obviously this can only go well. Incorporating some lovely suggestions I got in here.
Fuyumi is now on quite good terms with most of the league. She’s practically adopted Toga as her new younger sister. Because really, the girl is quite sweet when she’s not stabbing people and she’s still a teenager. Fuyumi is a really good influence on Toga and while there’s obviously a lot of things she can’t help with, she’s able to at least get Toga to be better about consent and stalking.
Twice & Fuyumi become super close, at first just because Twice is keeping an eye on her to make sure she’s not taking information she’s not supposed to, but it quickly becomes a regular friendship. Twice is extremely supportive of Fuyumi and honestly he’s just so happy to be helpful that Fuyumi can’t help but like him.
She’s so used to being in a caretaker/helper role, that Twice being so eager to help her out is unfamiliar to her, but honestly a godsend at the same time. Twice helps her manage the new extra workload of being a villain, and encourages her to keep going when she starts worrying that she’ll never find Touya.
I should mention in here that the league is actually the paranormal liberation front by this point, and Skeptic/Re-Destro/the others are hanging around, and at the very least Skeptic and Re-Destro are aware of who Fuyumi is and why she’s here/that she’s not really a villain, but honestly they’re just so relieved that there’s an Adult that Tomura and the others will listen to and who seems to actually know what’s she’s doing, so they’re keeping their mouths shut.
There’s probably a good month in here where Fuyumi suspects that Geten might be Touya who got quirk swapped by AFO, but eventually that theory gets disproved, putting her back at square one.
Under Fuyumi’s guidance, the league rescues Kurogiri from jail (although none of the core members are aware of his status), so now they have two Real Adults around, which is great.
Tomura is extremely happy to have his foster father back. Kurogiri is so proud of the progress he’s made while he was gone (and he 100% pulls Fuyumi aside privately to thank her for getting Tomura to dress respectably), and the two of them have a genuinely nice reunion.
One problem: Tomura now has now been dating Natsuo for a month, has caught Serious Feelings, but nobody knows about any of this and Tomura doesn’t even know how to go about telling anyone, let alone Kurogiri.
It doesn’t help that 1) since he accidentally told Natsuo his old name, Tenko, he then had to tell Natsuo that he’s still in the closest and ask him not to mention him to anyone by name to stop that from getting out. 2) Natsuo has no idea that he’s a villain, let alone the leader of the league of villains, because for obvious reasons, Tomura doesn’t think that will go over well.
He doesn’t want to lie to his boyfriend, but he doesn’t know how to tell the truth either. There’s so many things he can’t say, and even though he’s mostly just been avoiding answering certain questions, it’s still weighing on him.
All of which comes to a head one evening when the two of them are lying in bed, not doing much besides cuddling, something that is still extremely foreign to Tomura and which makes him a bit nervous, even with special gloves on. Maybe it’s how undemanding Natsuo is for answers, or maybe it’s because getting Kurogiri back has made Tomura more brave, or maybe it’s just that he’s kept secrets for too long, but regardless, Tomura’s the one who breaks the silence.
“I feel like- I- There’s things you should know. About me. That I haven’t told you. That I need to tell you. But-” And he doesn’t even know where he was going with that, because he can’t tell Natsuo, but god he needs to.
“Hey, hey, hey, easy.” Natsuo has a grin on his face, softer than his normal one but every bit as bright. “It’s okay. I mean, if there’s things you want to tell me, than I’m happy to listen, but you don’t owe me answers or anything. I get it. Everyone’s got skeletons in their closet. If you’re not ready to tell me yet, that’s just fine.”
God, he was so nice and Tomura wanted nothing more than to take him up on that, but all the same he knows that Natsuo wouldn’t be saying that if he knew.
“I want you to know, but I also don’t. Because it’ll change things. Don’t try to say it won’t. I know it will. There’s no way it won’t. And you deserve to know about it, but I don’t know how to tell you. I want you to know, but I like things how they are too and I don’t want them to change.”
Natsuo’s quiet for a moment, clearly considering before his fingers come up to gently stroke through Tomura’s hair, and fuck if that doesn’t help him calm down.
“Okay. I get that. It’s still okay if you aren’t ready yet though. If it makes you feel any better, there’s stuff I haven’t told you either, for the same reason. I like what we have now, and I don’t want to lose it. But hey even if knowing more about each other will change things, that doesn’t mean it’ll be worse. Just different. Change can be good too. Who knows.”
Again, it takes a lot for Tomura not to interrupt and say he knows this won’t be a good change. But he manages. He doesn’t manage to find any other words to say though, too busy wondering what secrets someone as kind as Natsuo could possible have.
“Tell you what, I’ve been meaning to get this off my chest anyways, so how about I go first? Then if you feel like telling me your stuff, you can, or we can just save it for another night. Okay?”
Tomura nods, because that sounds nice, and who knows, maybe he’ll get lucky and Natsuo will reveal that he’s a villain too or something.
“Alright, here goes; the reason I haven’t told you my last name is because it’s Todoroki. And yes, it is the Todoroki you’re thinking of. Endeavor’s my father, and Shouto Todoroki, from the UA sports festival and stuff, that’s my younger brother.”
Oh god fucking damn it.
Suddenly, Tomura’s brain helpfully supplies him with a few facts.
He has, while not directly tried to kill Natsuo’s (and Fuyumi’s???) father, enabled Dabi to attempt something of that scale.
Wait, doesn’t Dabi have a grudge against that guy? It’d always been a bit weird to Tomura, but he hadn’t really questioned it. Not until now. That’s going to be a major problem.
“I didn’t tell you for a few reasons. One, I didn’t want you to like me or not like me because of him. Two, I noticed you were kinda jumpy about hero stuff and I didn’t want to scare you off, and three, my relationship with him is kinda... complicated. Definitely not great. It’s got to do with a lot of things, but Touya’s a pretty big part of it all.”
It takes everything in Tomura’s body to hold back his instinctive responses of ‘Do you want me to kill him for you?’, because at this point he doesn’t want to make that offer unless he means it, and he might mean it soon. Depending on a few things. He let’s his gut guide his tongue instead.
“You’re brother’s pretty important to you, huh?”
Natsuo laughs, and it’s something soft and bittersweet, but fond. Still so very fond.
“Yeah, I mean, both of them are. But Touya was my older brother. He was always looking out for me. He was a pretty sickly kid, but he had a fire in him like nobody I’ve ever met. Literally and metaphorically. I still remember how some older kids tried to pick on me after school- it must’ve been ten years ago now- he was so tiny back them, but that didn’t stop him. They weren’t taking him seriously, one of them asked him what he planned to do against them when he wasn’t even up to their shoulders.”
This time Natsuo’s smile is more fond, lost in memories. Something about this is causing ideas to connect in Tomura’s brain, and he knows it’s heading towards something, but he’s scared to get there. Why though?
“Touya looked the guy right in the eye said ‘This’, and without blinking or even changing his expression, just with a little flick of his hand, he sent a wave of flames across the ground. Before they could do anything, he melted their shoes in place so they couldn’t do anything. Then, while they were panicking about it, he got his big creepy grin on his face. The kid who’d been leading them looked up and I think he almost fainted out of fear when he realized that he couldn’t fight back or get away. He apologized real after after that, promised they’d never do it again, and Touya said they better not, or next time it wouldn’t be their shoes that he melted. Then he turned on his heel, grabbed my hand and walked me all the way back home. I never got picked on again after that. But that was Touya for you, nothing ever scared him.”
Vividly, a memory flashes in front of Tomura’s eyes of some low level grunt getting in Dabi’s face. The guy had been getting a bit too friendly with Toga while she was still recovering from her eye injury. She was on pain meds at the time, and honestly Tomura had been about to decay the guy where he stood when Dabi stepped in and told him to back off. Apparently the guy thought he was hot shit because he asked why he should.
The very next second, blue flames had erupted and the guy was stuck in place, bound by his own shoes and helpless to do anything but simper out apologizes as those flames hovered around him, the smell of burning flesh hitting the air. Tomura hadn’t heard what Dabi had said, but he’d heard the rumors afterwards. ‘Next time, my flames will be burning a whole lot more than just your feet. Got it?’.
He hadn’t actually burned the guy’s feet off all the way, but it was enough to leave scars as a reminder.
Tomura had wondered many a time what Dabi was like when he was younger. Before he was Dabi.
It was almost funny, to find out that he’d always been like this. At least on some level.
Years of training was the only reason Tomura managed to keep a straight face and his voice somewhat even.
“Sounds like he was a pretty good brother.”
“Yeah. He really was. I miss him so much. All of us do. I know Fuyumi told you guys that she’s thinks he’s still out there, I don’t know if I believe that or not, but I don’t really have the heart to tell her to let it go. I probably should. It’s been years. I just... I just really like to think he’s still out there somewhere. I’d give almost anything to get him back, if I could, so I can hardly blame her for looking for him.”
Silence for a moment.
“Sorry, that’s kinda a lot to dump on you- I don’t really talk about him a lot these days.”
“No, no, it’s fine. I- I get it. My family- some of them anyways- it’s not the exact same, but it’s similar. I miss them a lot too. And-”
Tomura wanted to tell him the truth, but fuck, he couldn’t. As much as he wanted to tell his boyfriend that his brother was alive, had been this entire time, even now looked out for them because now that he was thinking about it, fuck, no wonder Dabi had been avoiding Fuyumi even while he vouched for her. But-
But it wasn’t his place to. That wasn’t his secret to share.
“-who knows, I can’t say I’m one to believe in miracles, but they do happen sometimes.”
Fuck that sounded sappy. It made Natsuo grin though, bright and wide, and so it was worth it. Worth the guilt that settled in Tomura’s chest, for all the things he couldn’t say yet.
Biting his bottom lip, Tomura decided to switch topics, meandering back to far lighter discussions of new games coming out soon. He’d wanted to tell Natsuo everything- but not tonight.
There was someone else he had to talk to first.
#tomura shigaraki#dabi is touya#dabi is a todoroki#natsuo todoroki#natshig#dabi#touya todoroki#fuyumi todoroki#twice#toga Himiko#the league of villains#the lov#bnha#mha#fake quarantine dating au#drabble#sif speaks#sif writes#my headcanons#man I started out intending for that to be short#but honestly if anyone expects anything less from me than they are a coward and a fool
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26 + 70 please! I'm loving these!
Anonymous asked: 89 + 70 to ease ur boredom?
26. Massage Fic + 70. Locked in a Room + 89. First Time
from fanfiction trope mash-up prompts here
some VERY OLD prompt fills I never got around to finishing! im talking like 3 years old. better late than never? this fic has a similar conceit to this one I posted last year, but it’s not like newt and hermann aren’t probably quarantining themselves constantly after lab accidents LMAO. sexy/not SFW stuff under cut
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“Mandatory isolation,” Newton says. “This blows.”
Hermann says nothing, choosing instead to aggressively turn a page in his book. He’s already said plenty to Newton on the subject, and he doesn’t imagine anything he has to say now will provide any new insights, or indeed even be moderately politer. Newton has—really, really—royally screwed things up this time. More than anything he has before. Hermann finds his anger over it all to be quite righteous, really. “Hm,” he hums instead. He turns another page.
“One whole week,” Newton says. “Locked in, nothing to do…”
Hermann grits his teeth. Truthfully, the book is for show, and for the excuse to ignore Newton, but it’s very hard to pretend to concentrate on it when Newton won’t stop talking to him. It’s especially irritating considering Newton is saying absolutely nothing of value. Then again, when is he ever? “Is there something you’re trying to say to me?” Hermann says.
Newton shakes his head. He’s playing with one of the little stress toys he keeps in his desk (a large foam strawberry), squeezing it over and over. “Oh, nothing. Just trying to make small talk.”
One whole week, locked inside the laboratory after one stupid little mistake meant Newton’s scalpel slipped where it shouldn’t have on his kaiju sample. One whole week of bloody self-isolation to make sure they don’t…infect the Shatterdome with anything they might’ve picked up in the resulting explosion. Not even a day in and Newton is already acting up. Kaiju withdrawal, perhaps, having been explicitly forbidden from working on any new samples until their containment passes. Squeeze. Squeeze. Hermann flips another page in his book. Newton clears his throat. “I know you’re not actually reading that,” he says.
“Aren’t I?” Hermann says.
Newton tosses the foam strawberry in the air with one hand and catches it with the other. “Tell me one thing that’s happened so far in it. Actually—tell me the title.”
“The title,” Hermann says, “is—”
“And no peeking,” Newton says.
This stumps Hermann. He slams the cover shut and makes to chuck the whole thing at Newton’s head, but decides better of it. He could get written up for workplace violence or some rubbish of that sort. Plus, without access to medical until the end of the week, Hermann would be the one who had to tend to any resulting wounds. Not worth it. “Fine,” he says. “I’m not reading it. Are you pleased, now that you have my undivided attention?”
Squeeze. “I guess,” Newton says. He smiles at Hermann. “Want me to suck your dick?”
This the last thing Hermann expects to hear. He startles; he blushes; he stammers; he nearly falls off his chair. Surely he must’ve misheard Newton—or, if he didn’t, surely Newton is teasing him. Newton has never done anything of that sort to Hermann before. Nor has he ever offered. It’s simply not how their relationship works. “I,” he says. “What?”
“Do you want a blowjob?” Newton says. So Hermann didn’t imagine it. “I just thought, since we’re both stuck here and bored as shit, may as well have some fun. People tell me I’m pretty good at it.”
“Good at—what?” Hermann says.
“At sucking dick,” Newton says. “Obviously.”
Hermann wonders what the appropriate response here is. Certainly he would like nothing more than to take Newton up on the offer and forget all his annoyances for a few wonderful minutes, or rather, to take his annoyances out on Newton’s never-ceasing mouth. If Newton’s offer is serious, Hermann is sure such an acceptance would be welcome. If Newton is not serious—if he means it as a joke—it could only lead to humiliation for Hermann. Something for Newton to hold over his head for the rest of the week. Hermann really thought Newton would suck him off? But the temptation of getting Newton’s mouth on him is too much for Hermann to resist, and he really is quite bored: he nods, shyly, and legs his legs part open an inch.
Newton grins.
He tosses his stress toy to his desk and gets down on his knees in front of Hermann with an admirable speed. Not saying a word, he settles his hand on Hermann’s thigh, then creeps his fingers along Hermann’s right inseam. “I bet it’ll make you feel better,” he says. “It’s gonna make me feel better. When’s the last time someone blew you, Hermann?” He fixes his eyes on the vee of Hermann’s parted legs, where the fabric of his trousers is tightening none-too-subtly at the mere notion of what Newton is offering. Hermann makes a weak show of closing them. He swallows a few times.
“I don’t, ah—I don’t remember.” Newton’s wandering fingers stop just before where Hermann wants them most, then skip over to the left side. “A few months. Years. Newton, I must—must ask—why are you…?”
Newton shrugs, and begins rubbing circles across Hermann’s inner thigh. “I’ve been thinking about how to get you to stop being pissed at me all day, and honestly, this seemed like it would work. Pretend it’s an apology or something. Man, Hermann, you’re tense.”
“You have no one to thank for that but yourself,” Hermann says. He shuts his eyes with a groan when Newton squeezes his left thigh like it’s his bloody stress toy. “By Jove, Newton, that feels marvelous.”
“Tense,” Newton says. “I told you. You don’t need a blowjob, dude, you need a goddamn massage.” He braces a hand on each of Hermann’s thighs and begins to work them over—clumsily, since (for all his skills in human biology) Newton is hardly a masseuse, but far better than anything Hermann could do all the same. Hermann sinks lower in his seat and muffles another embarrassing noise behind his hand. “Luckily, though,” Newton says, “I’m gonna give you both, because I’m an awesome lab partner. Let me know if something starts to hurt.”
Newton begins to focus his efforts on Hermann’s left leg, avoiding his knee at first, and then tentatively working his fingers over it as well. Hermann wonders if Newton can feel the scar tissue beneath his fingertips, or if Hermann’s trousers are acting as buffer enough for it. Hermann begins to sag in his chair. He feels positively boneless. He also feels that if Newton does not move those fingers (or, better yet, and as promised, his mouth) to his rapidly-stiffening prick soon, he’ll positively burst. “You enjoying yourself?” Newton says.
“Mm,” Hermann says. “Though, Newton—I don’t mean to be impolite, as I’m awfully grateful for this, but…”
Newton laughs, and with a final parting squeeze to Hermann’s leg, moves those lovely fingers to Hermann’s belt buckle and fly instead. “I got you, man.”
Hermann opens his eyes (not fancying missing this) and watches with bated breath as Newton draws down his trousers to settle comfortably at Hermann’s knees. He nearly blushes at the sight of his white boxer briefs, not just for their plainness, but for how badly they hide how wet his prickhead is already. Newton must feel Hermann’s eyes on him; he shoots Hermann a wink, and, not breaking eye contact, leans forward to press a wet, open-mouthed kiss to Hermann through his briefs.
Immediately Hermann clamps a hand down over his mouth to keep from shouting. He feels Newton laugh again, a vibration that thrums in the pit of Hermann’s stomach, and he pushes his hips eagerly up towards Newton’s mouth. Newton darts his tongue out this time, dampening the fabric of Hermann’s briefs further. Then he tucks their elastic waistband down below Hermann’s prick. “I didn’t expect it to look like this,” he says, and grazes his thumb idly across the head. He pulls it away sticky, and Hermann whimpers.
He moves his hand from his mouth long enough to say, “Have—have you thought about it often, then?” He means it teasingly—to regain some ground from Newton, some sliver of self-respect—but his voice trembles, and Newton’s grin returns with a certain lasciviousness to it that it’d not held before, and Hermann knows he’s merely given Newton more ammunition. He licks Hermann’s precum off his thumb. Hermann shivers.
“Oh, sure,” Newton says. “I jerk off thinking about your dick all the time.” He flicks his tongue over Hermann and makes a satisfied little noise, his eyelashes fluttering. He leaves another sucking kiss further down Hermann’s prick. Then another back up at the top. His fingers (Hermann notices vaguely, as if through a heavy fog) have begun rubbing soothingly at Hermann’s left hip. Hermann can only take so much: when Newton finally gets his whole mouth on him, two pink lips circling just under his head, Hermann grips blindly at Newton’s hair and comes down Newton’s throat with a muffled grunt. He feels Newton choke, but swallow it all down.
“I’m sorry,” he gasps, when he finally finds himself able to speak. “I ought—ought to have warned you.”
But Newton merely wipes his smug little mouth on the cuff of his sleeve and waves Hermann off. “I’m just that awesome, huh?” he says. He gently tucks Hermann back into his briefs, then does up his trousers. “It’s cool. It was pretty hot, actually.” Once he finishes looping Hermann’s belt, he stands and stretches his arms above his head with a groan. “Hey, you want some coffee?”
“Coffee?” Hermann says, dizzily.
“Yeah, I was gonna brew a pot,” Newton says. “Get the taste out of my mouth and everything.”
Hermann blinks at him. Newton’s rather thrown him for a loop. Aren’t these sorts of things meant to be reciprocated? Hermann didn’t mean to assume—but he really was looking forward to the chance to, er, give Newton a similar favor. Very much looking forward to it. “That’s it, then?” he says.
“We have six days to go, dude,” Newton says. “No need to rush anything, right? We can work on your,” he smirks, “endurance after lunch.”
“Oh,” Hermann says. He considers it. “Coffee would be nice, then.”
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HC of you meeting of of the boys(preferably Ben or Joe) before COVID and when it hit you stayed with them because you were far from home. Is this too much? Btw I love your posts and just want you to post more again 💀
How it started:
You were traveling around a lot before it was finally after the holidays
You were in New York, staying in a hotel when the news about COVID was getting big
In your final days you were going to a shop everyday, just to grab what you needed for the day
That’s when you ran into Joe. You knew you knew him from somewhere but didn’t say anything until you saw him there the next day
“Are you stalking me?” You would ask as you grabbed a bag of chips. He would let out a loud laugh as he looked at you
“Yeah actually, what gave it away?” People sworned around them.” This is crazy huh?”
“Yeah, I gotta get home soon if this keeps up.”
“Or stay in New York? Maybe run into each other before we turn into zombies?” He joked. “Totally.” You would agree and leave it at that
You two saw each other a few more times and gave flirty smiles through out the week and some small talk. He told him about his place and you talked about where you lived
A few days later when you realized that things weren’t going to get better you packed your bags. You first stopped at the shop to grab a few things because you didn’t know what the airport could be like
When you walked in, you saw Joe with a big shopping cart
“Oh my god, I totally started the zombie apocalypse.” Joe said when he saw you
“I won’t tell if you don’t.” You told him as you walked down the isle
“Are you going to be comfortable staying in a hotel?” You would give him a weird look. “I’m heading to the airport.” You told him with a laugh. “All of the airports shut down. No flights anywhere right now.”
“Oh my god. Oh my god.” You would start to call every hotel as Joe was checking out. Everything seemed to be booked or they were taking anyone new. How caught you outside as you stood by the cab, calling places
“You okay?”
“Everything is booked, Damnit!” Joe would hate to see it. “S-stay with me.” You gave him a look. “You could be a murderer.” You told him before he laughed. “I’m not and I’m serious. You can’t be on the streets right now and I have another room. And I think I have more reason to be worried, get in the cab crazy.”
You stayed in the guest bedroom, and even alone you felt awkward. You thought you should just try to call someone willing to drive all of the way to get you but you couldn’t ask anyone to do that and you didn’t think they would
The next morning you woke up to him pouring coffee. As he gave it to you and started small talk you stopped him.
“Stop. This is super nice but weird. I will call someone and leave. I- I think I should leave but this is great. If you start a bed and breakfast I will def give a good Yelp review.” He would laugh at you.
“Please don’t. Just stay until something opens up and you can safely be on a flight or a hotel. It could be fun. You could tel you kids about it one day or something. I swear I’m not a creep and I really would feel bad if I left you ok your own.”
Staying:
You called your family and told them you were staying with a friend and to not worry
It was awkward at first because either of you knew how to be comfortable with the other but it got better
Making breakfast for each other, being a good house guest, watching a few movies together a week, all around stuff
After two weeks of being in a house together, you thought it time to know each other and started to cook dinner. But horriblely messed up and Joe called his mom for cooking tips
“Mom I’m not joking, no she didn’t add water.” You blushed heavily as he talked to her. He ended up cooking for you which made you feel even worse
“Why were you cooking anyways?” He questioned. “I wanted to be something nice. We’ve been in the same house now for two weeks straight and I don’t know you. You could still be a murderer.”
“I’m an actor actually, pretty sure you knew that. I’m a Virgo, I play bass-“
“And you like long walks on the beach? Real stuff Joe! Also, I guessed Virgo, your earth sign energy is crazy, what’s your moon?”
“I- I don’t know. Ask me something then, anything.”
“Do you like coffee?”
“You crossed the line.” He told you, making you both laugh
Through out quarantine:
Going through 2020 together was the most chaotic thing that happens to you
Watching just about every show on Netflix
Everyday something worse happens you two take a shot and then put a tally on a peice of paper
Having 2020 bingo cards, literally
Ordering a lot of games to pass time
Making bets about what next month will hold
Getting to know Joe in weird ways
Having to explain to where you work that you’re now working from New York
Joe being the most chill person, even with the things that are happening
Him trying to make the days better
Joking about separation anxiety with each other but lowkey if one of you goes to the store for too long the other ones is worried
“What day is it?”
“Thursday.” Joe would question everything he’s done all week but can’t remember a single thing
Becoming rather close and very chaotic
“This is everything we need to do after it’s over.” You would tell him
“An aquarium?”
“Well it’s that or we could get high and watch Jaws, your choice.”
“I’m glad we aren’t those people that go on walks and zoom with their families, that’d make us seem way to normal.”
Trying your best to pass the time, April and May being the worse
Getting a lot of little arguments
“You called me a child when I bought them, and then you took HALF!” You would yell
“You’re fighting with me about this?”
“Yes because you made fun of me. You either get more or we fist fight.”
Neither of you know how to shop for food in the beginning because everything was being taken from the shelves
“You bought two packs of energy drinks?”
“Everyone was taking the water and soda, I had to act fast.”
Catching yourself falling for him
How could you not? He took you in, cooks dinner, helps ease your pandemic anxiety
Him being the biggest goof
“Joe, it’s 1am, I’m not making a fort with you.”
“Why not?”
When the summer came you two held out hope for better things to come but they just seemed worse
Meeting the boys over zoom
“Sorry, we’ve all been really surprised when we heard the story. It’s very Joe but we were scared some weird things would happen.”
“Yeah, I don’t watch him sleep or anything like that.”
“Really? I’m a beautiful sleeper.”
Making him tea
Hearing him over sing in the shower
After the summer with numbers rising again, going home seemed like a dream
You didn’t want to risk your family getting sick but staying with Joe more seemed too much
Wishing you had met at another time because it seemed too weird to make a move. You were getting almost a middle school feeling crush. This ended up in a debate with yourself, talking about pros and cons and leaving and all of the things you have wanted to say since March
“You can do this. You are a strong woman, you are to the point and the worst thing he could say is no and that’s okay, you’re still that bitch.”
“Who’s saying no?” Joe asked you as he came in
“No one, maybe you, I don’t know, wanna watch a movie?” Joe would look at you as you stood awkwardly.” Don’t look at me like that.”
“What’s happening right now.”
“I’m sorry, it’s not you. It is but it’s like your fault but I also have some blaming but you did it.” Joe would nod his head, trying to make sense of anything that was happening.” I have developed, a sorry of, very tiny and minor, crush. That I’m sure it just because another man hasn’t looked at me since March but at the same time I think it’s because you’re a really great person and now I’ve made this awkward and we won’t talk about it ever again.”
“A crush?” “I just said we won’t talk about it.”
It worked out because he ended up liking you back but it was definitely weird for a little
You two felt more in the way or each other than living together
But after a few weeks you two realized how weird you were being and figured out it was nothing
“Trump got COVID.” “Shots?” “Yep!”
As you two were drinking you looked at each other and laughed, spitting the drinks everywhere.
“Wanna order in? Act like this week didn’t happen?”
“Yeah.”
Felt like you were living out a literal movie
Making the best of 2020 although it was weird
Dating:
The same as before but now it’s this new part of Joe
He’s more romantic but still funny and himself
Having “date nights” once a week. That just meant he would light candles and turn the lights out and pretend it was a fancy restaurant
Finding out a lot about each other
Him telling his family about you and how it’s been with you. Making you freak out a lot on the inside
The boys all telling him they were calling it
“You can’t just threaten to lock yourself in the bathroom just because I said I didn’t want pasta tonight.”
“Watch me!”
Still tiny agruments but nothing serious, ever
“It doesn’t matter why! He just did!”
“Then where did the hammer go when he left! He took it with him but when he came back old all he had was the shield!”
Planning out where you two would travel next
You two having the weirdest comfort level with each other
Talking about what would have happened between you two of the pandemic didn’t happen
Game nights becoming twice as better now that you’re both more comfortable with each other
Making both of your guys friends join a zoom to play with
Flipping coins to see who makes dinner
Whenever you don’t eat what he makes he always threatens to never cook again
“Have peanut butter and jelly everyday, I don’t care. You’re missing a real Italian man right now!” He said, coping an accent
Coping each other all of the time just to see what the other one will do
Having the most fun you’ve ever had with him, even with you two stuck in a house
Realizing the a pandemic made you find the love of your life
#Joe mazzello#joe mazzello headcannon#joe mazzello headcanon#joe mazzello imagine#joe mazzello x reader
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A random Dialogue I came up with in my head while trying to fall asleep the night before. // G.D
Been having trouble writing lately and ended up just daydreaming (night dreaming?) abt Grayson one night, so I thought I’d try and just get it out and write something. Enjoy :)
You’re sitting in your bedroom, laying on your back with your laptop sitting on your stomach. You’re cuddled up with your jumbo-oversized teddy bear, your head resting on it’s furry stomach and your elbows lazily resting against it’s fat squishy legs. A google doc is opened on your screen, and you’re trying to half-assedly write a response for your final project on why Duke Orsino actually was gay in Twelfth Night, along with many of the other supporting characters, despite what most old white bardolators may tell you.
You feel a vibration near your leg, and you tilt your head to the side to see someone calling your phone. You pick it up, and your eyes widen when you see that it's a facetime call from Grayson Dolan. This was, of course, a shock, considering you and Grayson weren’t even that close friends, you only occasionally texted each other anymore, barely ever called, and literally NEVER facetimed. You guys had barely spoken to each other since quarantine had started, so it was definitely a surprise.
Your eyes flicker to your laptop screen, seeing that it’s around 9pm. Not too late that it’s sketchy or anything, but still pretty late for it to be strange.
You place your laptop down beside you and situp, leaning back against your headboard, quickly tying your hair up into a quick messy bun to make yourself look somewhat presentable. You slide the green phone icon across your screen.
Grayson’s face appears on your phone. He’s wearing a cute oversized fuzzy hoodie. His short hair is a bit frizzy, and it still takes you by surprise because you’re so used to seeing his long flowy locks.
“Heyy,” Grayson says, smiling at you. From behind his screen, Grayson sets himself down onto the living room couch, laying back on the arm.
“Hey.” You respond.
“What’re you up to?”
“Uhh, not much. Just working on final assignments and whatnot.”
“Oh, yea, school’s almost over for you, right?”
“Yep, just a few more weeks.”
“Bet you’re excited to finally get time off.”
You chuckle. “Yeah, tired of being stressed all the time.”
“Makes sense.”
An awkward silence fills both your rooms.
“Soo…” Grayson lays his head on the side of his couch.
“What’s up? Why’d you call?” You ask him.
“Oh, no reason. Just bored and felt like talking to someone.”
“Ethan not home?”
“Nah, he went out skateboarding with some friends.”
“This late?”
“It’s not that late. Just went to the park nearby.”
“Sounds fun. You know, I’ve always wanted to learn how to skateboard.”
“Yea?”
“Mhm. Maybe E can teach me sometime.”
“Hey, I know how to skateboard too. And I’d definitely be a much better teacher.”
You laugh. “Alright, next time we meet up you can teach me how to skateboard.”
“It’s a date.”
You both give a lighthearted chuckle, but then things turn quiet again.
“Erm, hold on.” You place your phone down on your bed.
“Where’re you goin’?”
“Gonna put my phone on a pillow so I don’t have to keep holding it,” You say, grabbing your nearest one and doing your best to balance your phone on top of it.
“Is that a giant teddy bear?” From the angle of your phone, Grayson can see your big stuffed animal sitting behind you.
“Haha, yea.” You lean back down on it briefly to give him a better idea of the size. “He’s my cuddle buddy.”
“That’s cute.”
“Our relationship has gotten a lot stronger since quarantine started.” You peck the bear on the nose. Grayson laughs.
“I’m happy for you guys.” You giggle, sitting back up.
“Why thank you.” You turn your attention back to your laptop quickly, and Grayson follows your line of vision.
“So what subject is this final for?”
“English.” You sigh. “Which sucks, because I’m shit at it.”
“I’m sure that’s not true.”
“Oh but it is. I always do incredibly bad, I’m literally the worst.”
“Well you’re definitely not the worst, because I exist.”
“Well yeah but it’s not your fault that you can’t read.”
“Hey, I can read!”
“Sorry, It’s not your fault that you’re ass at reading. It is however my fault that I can’t write for shit.”
He laughs. “Fine, sure.”
You giggle. “Sorry. Just a bit stressed.”
“No big deal.”
Silence again. Usually now would be the time you’d make some excuse and cut the call. But for some reason unknown to you, you didn’t want to do that. You want to fill it.
“Oh, I watched your guys’ last video.” You raise an eyebrow at him. “Tell me you guys weren’t just trying to look like douchebags with your literal 100 grand.”
“Aughhh,” He groans, rubbing his face with the hand not holding his phone. “I swear we really weren’t.”
“Uhuh.”
“I realize that it may not look like that,”
“Oh really?”
“Considering we actually had wads of cash,”
“Mhmmm.”
“But we weren't, I swear. We just thought it’d be funny for a stupid little video.”
“Okay then.”
“Hey!”
“Not judging.”
“Since when do you watch our videos anyways?”
You gave him a side-look. “What do you mean? You think I don’t?”
He shrugs. “Dunno. Just assumed…”
“You’re my friend. ‘Course I do.”
He smiles.
“Plus they are pretty fun. Like to have them on in the background when I work sometimes..”
“No way, really?”
“Yeah, why not?”
“I mean, all the ones since quarantine we’ve had to be pretty creative with. Since we’re stuck at home and all.”
“You guys don’t give yourselves enough credit. I love what you come up with. It’s cool to just listen to you both ramble about stuff.”
“...Are you saying you also listen to the podcast?”
Your eyes shoot back to him. He was actually joking, but seeing your guilty expression lead to the smug sort of look on his face.
“You guys have very satisfying voices, okay?”
“Uhuh.”
“Shut the fuck up!” You laugh, and he does as well.
“Either way, thanks. It means a lot that you do. I never really know if people we’re friends with like our stuff, so it’s good to know that at least someone does.”
You smile, and he returns it.
You suddenly hear a ding coming from his side.
“Oh shit almost forgot about my toast-” You see Grayson’s phone wobble as he gets up to head for the kitchen.
“Avocado?”
“You know it.”
“Dang, I don’t think I’ve had avocado toast since…” You pause. “Huh. I guess since I accidentally ran into you at that one restaurant and we happened to get food together.”
“What-” He rights the phone so it’s facing him again. “That was ages ago!”
“Yea, I know.”
“That’s unacceptable.”
“You may think so.”
“Alright, so after I teach you how to skateboard, I’m gonna have to take you out for food.”
You laugh. “Is that a set in stone thing?”
“Oh definitely.”
He sets his food down on a table, and you watch as he tries to balance his phone up against something. He sits down, then takes a bit before looking back up at you.
“So when’s this due?”
“Uhh, tomorrow night.”
“You almost done?”
“Er..” You look at your half written page. “...sort of.”
“So no,” he chuckles, and you do too.
“I’ll finish it, don’t worry.”
“Didn’t say I was.”
“Well that’s ru-”
“Because I know you’ll finish it,” He interrupts you, and you roll your eyes. “You always do.”
You sigh, setting your elbow down on your knee and resting your face on your hand. You watch him silently for a bit, and he takes a few more bites before realizing your eyes on him.
“What?” He says, food still in his mouth.
“Nothin’,”
“Yea?”
“Yea, just… kinda just miss you.” You finally blurt out.
He stops chewing suddenly, and looks at his phone with a very intent look. He expects you to say more, but you don’t, looking back at your laptop screen.
He swallows, then sets his toast down. “Kinda just miss you too.”
You smile, trying to hide it by squishing the palm of your hand into your face, not taking your eyes off of the illuminated laptop.
“Why don’t we hang out anymore?”
“Because we’re legally not allowed to.” You finally look back at your phone, grabbing it from it’s pillow stand and then flopping down onto your bear’s belly.
He rolls his eyes. “No, smartass. Before that.”
You shrug. “Dunno. We never really did to begin with.”
“Sure we did, there was the restaurant, and…” He trails off, looking far away at some corner of the room.
“I mean we hung out with other friends. And we talked sometimes.” You shrug again. “Not really much else though.”
He runs a hand through his short hair. “Why not?”
You laugh. “Bro, I don’t know! You never asked!”
“Well I fuckin wanted to!” He rubs his face with both his hands as he chuckles.
“Really?” Your laughter dies down now, a softer tone taking on your voice.
“Duh, of course.” He tilts his head as his soft eyes look at you. “You’re really fucking cool, and I really wanted to get to know you better, but it felt weird to just randomly come out of no where and be like ‘hey, wanna hang out?’ like that shit usually comes naturally, yknow?”
“Well, we don’t really hang out in the same circles, so I don’t know how it would.”
“Yeah, but I thought maybe…” He sighs. “I don’t know. I didn’t even know if you wanted to be friends or anything, so..”
“Well that’s frustrating.” You slump your shoulders down, relaxing more into your bed. “I really wanted to be friends. Just didn’t wanna seem fucking… annoying or anything.”
“Oh my god why are we like this.”
“I don’t fucking know!!” You both burst out laughing, and you momentarily drop your phone to rub the tears out of your eyes.
“Okay, it’s settled then.” You hear his voice and pick your phone up off your stomach to face it towards your face again, now sitting up.
“What is?”
“After quarantine and everything is over I’m definitely taking you out for food and skateboarding.”
You grin. “Okay. Sounds amazing.”
“Great.” There’s quiet again, but it’s not awkward anymore, both of your gleeful grins speak volumes over it.
“Okay.”
“Okay.”
You giggle. “Okay, I should go. Should probably actually try and get this thing done.”
“Right. I’ll… call you tomorrow?”
You bite your tongue. “Yeah.”
“Okay, bye.”
“Bye.”
You cut the call, and let your arms fall down to your sides as you fall back on your bed and grin up at the ceiling. You squeeze your eyes shut, just breathing in and out to calm yourself down from the little rush. Though the buzz of your phone once again catches your attention.
You get up and look at it, seeing it’s a text from Grayson.
Grayson D.: Just realized you probably don’t have a skateboard…
You bit your lip, and flopped down onto your belly now, your legs up in the air as you text him back.
Y/N: You’d be right 😅
Your eyes eagerly watch the three dots bouncing on the screen.
Grayson D.: Would you wanna borrow one of mine?
Y/N: I’m totally good with getting my own, but idk where
Grayson D.: Well there’s this shop near my house…
Assignment long forgotten, you and Grayson end up talking well into the night.
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