#um so i literally meant to post this like a fucking week ago

[crvstybowlofcereal]

i literally love this song so much and they played it at the goodwill i went to today and my brain short circuited, my friend was looking at stuffed animals and i was just singing and dancing (more stimming than dancing but yk) and could not focus on anything else i was so shocked they played it.

people were staring but idec i was having fun

#today? its 2:30 am so technically yesterday but #me being goth in the wild #ALSO A COOL ALT EMPLOYEE COMPLIMENTED MY OUTFIT #AND I DIDNT KNOW WHAT TO SAY SO I WAS LIKE #“THANK YOU.. SO MUCH” #and i complimented them back when i passed them again #um so i literally meant to post this like a fucking week ago #and i did but i posted it to THE WRONG BLOG #so act like i posted this saturday night/early sunday morning? #i am deleting it off the sideblog i originally posted it to #you guys arent allowed to know about that one #Spotify #edit: this was from fucking 2 weeks ago not just one i am so dumb #i never even realized i had it posted to the wrong acc

[classroomconfidentialblog]

Modern (millenial?) parents are SO hard to work for. If you are one of them and you actually care about what your kid is experiencing at school every day, please read this.

Is it just me or has the parenting style taken a radical turn maybe in the last 5 years or so?

I don't know what it is... post-COVID exhaustion and anxiety? a very high sense of entitlement? a completely different mindset than any generation of parents prior to you? Gentle parenting?

And I'm sure there are still some rare "chill" and "no bs" parents out there who want the truth. But so many more are basically like an emotional landmine just waiting to explode... and destroy teachers in the process. because they simply will not tolerate any honest or even remotely negative communications from the Teacher.

Everything upsets them. They take everything hyper-personally. They won't ask you for clarification, oh goodness no. And they don't give a fuck what your intentions are or where your heart is.

They certainly don't value you or respect you, even though they also don't seem to realize that they are entrusting their young child, and that child's cognitive development, physical and emotional wellbeing, with you.

To them, you're the bitch they can't wait to complain about because you asked them to hold off on potty training for one more week while other kids who need more time for mastery can get a little more time with the teacher's attention.

To them, you're the bitch. Because you try to inquire about what that child might be experiencing at home, so you can try to fill in the gaps of knowledge about how this child operates, and support that child to the best of your ability at school. And this parent feels like you trespassed some sort of sacred boundary asking about how they handle that behavior/ situation at home.

And yet they will also turn around and irately say things like "you don't know our family history"... um... yes (slow clap), that is why I'm *asking* you what things look like AT HOME , girlfriend; when your child demonstrates x, y, and z behavior. Because, dare I say, I *don't* know your family history? Therefore I have to do this thing called "ask the parent"??? 

Like, goddamn you people are the most impossible cohort of parents I have ever worked with. you're impossible to read and you're impossible to trust.  your fake as hell to be perfectly honest. and I miss straight shooter truly smart and knowledgeable white collar parents like Kathleen, the no bullshit mother who would both fiercely protect her child and help me get what I needed from administration if it meant it could help her child and the whole class.

I can't even trust if I truly have positive rapport with these millenial parents; or if they're just lying to my face and preparing to turn into a viper in a few days and report something to my boss that I allegedly said that I didn't even know I said; and can't remember the details of anymore. Because to me, I was just checking in on potty training readiness or letting them know their kid had a rough day today. Which are things that I have done on a regular basis for over 15 years. 

And millennial parents, when you backstab your child's teacher, y'all will turn around and report trivial shit to their boss, that in the mind of the teacher wasn't even a big deal -- these kinds of things are literally an every day part of any preschool teaching job that any preschool teacher would have to do!  and then you request a meeting, and you're probably gossiping about it to the other parents, and you have clearly sat on this issue and let it fester in your mind for several days if not weeks because the precipitating event wasn't yesterday; it was like many days ago. But only now you're bringing it up.

You've probably gone to your therapist and complained about it. And your therapist probably told you that you need to be empowered as a parent and blah blah blah, and you have every right to march into that school and voice your feelings and have that teacher burned at the stake!

... yeah how do you think that is going to ripple through the chain of command? 

Did any part of yourself stop and consider that teacher also has to help other peoples children at the same time as yours?  And to meet with you she has to step away from all of those children? Did it cross your mind that some teachers out there genuinely have the best interest of the entire classroom in mind and that all the other parents, not just you and your immediate needs? and if you keep creating drama for teachers like this they are not going to want to stay in the profession?  Because of parents like you??  And that this stupid meeting and your stupid bullshit complaints might just be the straw that breaks the camels back and makes her quit out of the blue, when she thought she genuinely liked working for what she thought was a really great school, finally. And now your drama is making her reconsider her own thoughts about wanting to put in a couple more years as an early childhood educator?

Did any part of yourself stop and consider that your child having a little bit of a rough patch emotionally may have been the least of the problems that day, because there are bigger problems than just your child missing mommy that day? 

Did any part of yourself stop and consider that you might want to feel grateful that the teacher is keeping it real with you instead of hiding the truth in order to keep you emotionally happy and soothed?

Did it ever occur to you that there could be a lot of other shit that that teacher is basically being forced to hide about the truth of the reality, because her superiors have asked her not to say anything to you all?

Are you guys aware that administration will literally come to the teacher and tell the teacher to immediately cease all communications with youas soon as you file a trivial and selfish complaint about her? 

Because that's what really happens. I'm not just here making this shit up.  I'm here confessing this shit. Because I'm tired of holding it in. 

Just because you operate out of some weird version of parenthood that you imagine in your mind where you have all the power, doesn't mean that's actually true.

Every professional and licensed Preschool, unless it is owned and run by the teacher herself, always answers to a higher chain of command.  Remember that. she's not working for herself, she's working for a larger organization. 

So it may have started off that you had a really lucky relationship with your child's teacher, where she felt safe and honest enough to tell you the truth about what's really going on with your child. She may have initially felt like she had the freedom to inquire with you on an honest and authentic level, so that she could support your child in a simple, non-dramatic, effective way; and help everybody move forward from some thing that wasn't that big of a deal to begin with, with simplicity and ease. 

But then you got all defensive and took it personally, and then it had to go to her boss, and then it had to go to that bosses boss, and in some instances it's going to go to boards of people. And those people are all gonna tell us, the teacher to stop talking to you. like literally no joke at more than one school when a parent complains I have been told to stop talking to parents completely.

Is that what you really want?  You really want the direct educator and caregiver of your child, Monday through Friday, who can observe your child through professional eyes and who knows the classroom situation more intimately than anyone else-- the person who designed the entire fucking classroom from the ground up literally. Literally, most of the shit your child is experiencing and enjoying on a daily basis Monday through Friday, was brought to the classroom by the teacher you want to tear down, and was a literal creation out of that teachers mind into your child's daily school reality.

Yepp. Her. That lady. You want to cut off communication with the person who literally created the reality that your child experiences when they go to school everyday.  She built the furniture with her hands, and she composed out of her own brain the fucking songs that your kid goes home singing nonstop, because they love them.

You want to cease all communication with **her**??? Forreal tho?????

Okay, cool. Your wish is my command. not even because I want to but because my boss is making me now, thanks to you.

So let's all millenial it up, and be fake AF for the rest of the school year. 

Your kid is doing great! 😁. They had a great day! 😀Fake smile. 😇. Let's all just play pretend so that you millenial parents can have happy emotions at times. let's make a bunch of people on different levels of your child's school organization have to have a bunch of drama they have to deal with. because you don't have the balls to just accept basic ass Preschool communication. Great job, millenial parents.

I either need to leave this field altogether, or I need to hurry up and start start my own preschool where I have the power to just kick people out if they're gonna be immature drama. 



[finelinevogue]

hiii ! could you write something about harry stalking y/n's Instagram but her account is private, so he sends a request and she accepts and she follows him back, and harry likes her pics (which aren't many) and tries to find out if she do you have a boyfriend or something?

this might be quite short but i hope this is alright for you;

“What’s the correct reaction I should use when Harry Styles requests to follow me?”

You asked your best friend, Heather, as you were both lounging on your bed. She was sat up against the headboard and you lay the opposite way around, holding you phone to the ceiling.

It was just another simple day for the two of you. You’d worked a long shift at the local supermarket and Heather had worker her long shift at the cat shelter, both of you now just having some down time to relax and regroup your thoughts before you even thought to start on dinner. Heather, your best friend and roommate, was an absolute tyrant in the kitchen which meant you were often the one to cook dinner. Tonight was shrimp risotto, if you could be bothered to get out of bed to actually make it. However you were no grounded to your bed more than ever, shocked with the current notification staring you square in the eyes.

“Why?” Heather laughed at you, not noticing your heavily serious face to your question, “you having your daily dreams over the man again?”

Okay, you didn’t have daily dreams… Nightly dreams, maybe. You had liked Harry for a while actually, perhaps since he had cut his hair for a movie he had done. You weren’t a huge fan of his and listened to his music occasionally - like when you were folding laundry or on a long train ride - but you weren’t dedicated to him. He was cute and his voice sounded really lovely. He was definitely the face you used in your nighttime scenarios, but you would never admit that out loud.

“No,” you briefly paused to find the right words to say, “because Harry Styles just requested to follow me.”

“You— What!” Heather sprung up from her position on the bed, but you stayed still and eyes fixed to your phone.

“Appropriate reaction?” You asked again, handing her your phone so she could see for herself.

“Um, ascending into heaven, I don’t know do I? The really question is why the fuck haven’t you accepted it?” She was quick to answer your question and even quicker to ask hers, looking at you as if you’d just told her you were born with only one tit.

“Maybe because it’s Harry Styles!” You exclaimed, sitting up and looking at her now the same way she had just done you.

“Babe, honey, that’s exactly why you need to accept him.” Tossing you back your phone you caught it as you looked to her. God, what was happening? You’d been stacking shelves at a supermarket 3 hours ago and now you were about to accept a follow request from Harry Styles - like the same man who you think about every night before bed and yet know barely anything about.

“Oh fuck it.” You clicked accept and then followed him back, switching your phone off and throwing it down onto the bed.

“Did you..”

“Yeah.”

“So…”

“Yeah.”

Then you started to freak.

It hit you that Harry Styles could see all of your instagram photos - even the ones you were tagged in. Then you questioned whether he would even bother to stalk you? Was he that kind of person? How did he even find you in the first place? You had 489 followers to his near 50 million, so it’s not exactly like he just saw you appear in his notifications - you didn’t even follow him until 30 seconds ago. Let’s say he did see your photos, what would he see? For starters there’s the photos of you and your parents dogs and then just your parents. There’s you on the beach and you in the snow. There’s you with friends and still some posted of people you didn’t like anymore. It was okay.

“Do you think he’s wanking off to that picture of you in your lingerie?” Heather broke the silence.

“What?” You looked at her baffled by such a question.

“You know? The one you just posted like two days ago because it was body positivity week at the gym?”

Fuck.

You’d completely forgotten about that photo and you scrambled quick for your phone. God, you couldn’t let Harry see you like that. You’d felt really, really, good when you’d posted it, dressed in your black lingerie from Victorias Secret, but now you were insecure that Harry could’ve looked at the photo and… well, vomited maybe?

“Oh no, no, no.” You repeated as you went back onto Instagram, only to freeze. “Holy fuck balls.”

If your mother heard the tone of your tongue from the past 5 minutes, she would have you strung up on her washing line by your toes. Okay not literally, but something similar.

“What? What’s happened?” Heather pressed, nosy to the current situation.

“He liked the photo.”

“He what?” Heather shouted, a shit eating grin on her face.

“Oh my fuck he liked the photo.” You put the phone on the bed and got up off to stand up, pacing whilst your rubbed your hands over your stressed temples. “He liked the look.” You repeated to yourself, trying to convince yourself that this was actually happening.

Harry Styles had seen a photo of you in your lingerie. That is not something you’d ever thought you’d ever say, but there’s the fact. Like he’d seen you - your body. You paced the length of your bedroom, completely in your own head wondering where you’d go in your life past this moment. Crawling under a heavy rock to live forever sounded pretty good right now though.

“Have you done freaking out yet?” Heather asked sarcastically, watching you pace with your phone in her hands.

“No. Yes. Maybe. Is this an acceptable reaction?” You stressed your hands through your hair and cupped your hand over your mouth in shock that this was genuinely happening.

“So I shouldn’t tell you that he’s also sent a direct message?” She asked rhetorically, making you stop wearing a track into your carpet.

“He…”

“Yeah.”

“Saying?”

“Do you want to sit down first or…” Heather asked, clearly concerned you weren’t handling this all very well.

“No. I’d rather just collapse afterwards.” You nodded your head, egging her to continue.

“Okay…” She rolled her eyes and returned her eyes to the screen to start reading out the message. “Y/N—”

“Oh jesus.” You interrupted, clutching onto your desk chair as your legs went weak and you had to sit down. Heather laughed at you before continuing, her eyes lighting up as she skim read the message.

“I hope you’re having a lovely day. I hope you don’t find my follow request or liking of your photos too creepy or forward, it’s just I think you’re really beautiful and ever since I heard about you I just had to know who you were. If you don’t want to reply, that’s alright I understand, but if you would like to know me a bit more as I would like to get to know you then feel free to call me or just message back. If, however, you are already seeing someone I apologise for this message to both you and your partner. Wishing you all the best, H. x”

Breathe check. Yes, still breathing.

“Y/N?” Heather asked, noticing you were struck still.

“Okay…” You let out a shaky breathe, doing some internal meditation to try and calm the buzzing of nerves that were rushing throughout your entire body.

“Y/N?” Heather snapped you out of your attempt of peace. “What do you want to do now?”

“He called me beautiful.” You smiled at her she smiled back, happy that you were happy.

“He also said he had heard about you from somewhere?” Heather asked, having picked up on that important bit of information.

“And he wants to get to know me.”

“Yes, okay lover-woman, let’s focus here.”

“Right, yes. Focus.” You nodded your head, still in a dreamy daze.

“Should we call him?” Heather asked.

“Are you out of your goddamn mind?” You threw your hands up in the air, which shocked you both. “Woah, sorry. Do you seriously think he’s going to want to listen to me paralysed at the lips? No.”

“So, text?”

“Text, yes.” You sighed, coming to sit on the bed next to her and draft a message back to the man who was about to change your life.

#harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fanfiction #finelinevogue #finelinevogue harry styles #harry blurb #harry oneshot #harry styles concept #harry styles text #ask finelinevogue #ask harry styles #anon response #anon #finelinevogue blurbs #finelinevogue harry masterlist #finelinevogue masterlist #harry styles instagram #harry styles slide into the dms #harry styles fluff

[papercupids]

past the happily ever after - wong kunhang

pairing - wong kunhang x reader

genre - post breakup!au; angst; music producer! hendery;

summary - bumping into your ex reopens some unhealed wounds.

word count - 2k 

warnings - none that i could point out

as you waited for the employee to wash his hands and get back to you to take your order, you glance around the shop a little more, quaint little wooden tables are lined up messily and on top of them, matching brown stands which are home to almost 5 spoons, forks and knives respectively per table. The sunlight coming in abundance right in to illuminate every nook and cranny of the corner cafe.

It’s not too crowded here, maybe because 3:00 pm is not exactly the definition of a rush hour. 

the bells of the coffee shop rang and scanning the whole room, just to feed your curiosity more, you turned back. And when you do, you really wish you hadn’t, because just in the span of a mere second, your heart is ripped out of the place its caged in between your lungs because all of the time you’ve spent thinking about this moment did not prepare you for when it’s really happening. You turn back quickly, after freezing in your place when you first see him, and you’re scared that anyone who looks at you right now, including him, can see right through you and feel the trembling in your knees. But more than fear and awkwardness it was a simple debate of feelings of love and hate both that made you freeze right now.

 Countless accusations, numerous insults, you had so many questions for him, so many secrets to spill, it had come to an extent where you would imagine him sitting next to you jst to calm your overwhelmedness.

But you had later come to a conclusion. If your love meant nothing to him, neither will your hate.

 And hendery was just as shook as he spotted you and your face registered itself into his brain.

 the smell of pancakes, the small noise of it crackling on the pan, the sun pouring in just like in the cafe, but a little dimmer, the morning version of it. from the small windows of your apartment, soft music playing at a low volume and you’re humming along to it.

“y/n,” he calls out and that’s your cue to know he’s already up and you flip the pancake and walk over to him still lying in bed, adoring the rising sun from his position on the bed.

“Why did you wake up so early?” He mumbles groggily. “It’s your holiday today, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” you make your way back to the kitchen, “i just had a craving,” the pancake is perfectly golden when you take it out and place the batter for the next one.

A few moments later you hear the shuffling of feet before a pair of arms wrap around your waist and a face nuzzles itself in your neck.

“goodmorning, dery.”

“Mmh,” he inhales your scent as if it was the very oxygen he breathes, and when he does exhale it tingles on your neck.

Turning off the stove, you turn to him and catch his lips in a slow and chaste ‘good morning, honey’ and ‘i want this forever’ kiss. 

“Hey, y/n,” hendery currently has his hands in his pockets and you can hear the awkwardness in his voice, someone who was ever so frank and comfortable with you. You can swear this guy grows more beautiful each time you see him. The last was almost a fat six months later after you broke up with him, on an instagram story of a mutual friend of you both. You muted his story after that and it took you two weeks to stop listening to taylor swift after that. And now, it’s two years later but you still love this man as much as you did the first time you ever said it to him.

“hendery, hey, didn’t expect to run into you,” you pray that he can’t feel the beating of your heart which in your opinion is vibrating enough for your body to shake visibly.

“Yeah, me neither, how are you though? Long time no see,”

“Yeeah, i’m fine, just a little over the place.”

“Oh, well.”

The employee behind you both could literally feel the tension between you both from where he was standing. Either way, he needed to get over both of your orders before any one of you messed it up and made the other leave. It could strongly affect the revenue of this small cafe.

“Miss, what would you like to order?” He calls out to you, causing you to turn.

“Oh, yeah. A caramel macchiato, please.”

“And, you, sir?”

“I’ll have an Americano, thanks.”

“So it’s a combined order?”

And the next few seconds is just you and hendery awkwardly communicating through your eyes asking if the other’s okay with having coffee together and strangely enough even against your best interests, you both are.

“Okay, i’ll have it on your table in a few,” and the man disappears behind the curtain, quite proud of himself. If this one couple made it together, if they were broken up right now, their kids would hear of this cafe. He giggled and went on with his work.

As for you, it was not at all like the time you had once imagined in the shower how meeting hendery would be like. There were no slaps, no “fuck you’s” and absolutely no drama unlike how you imagined it in the shower.

You sat opposite on one of the round tables, besides the glass panel.

“So how have you been?”

“Oh, good. Just finished an album I was working on, a week ago. And damn, I'm tired.”

“Oh,”

 the music blasted through your ear and you hit the lower volume button as you rolled your eyes at hendery, if he continued to keep the volume this much, he’d end up losing his hearing, for sure. You try to tell him that, which comes across more as a shout than a normal tone to him because of your inability to listen to your own voice above the song. He nods carelessly, he’s just concentrated on your expressions as you listen to the track.

but it's just the way it was, life wasn’t always a happy ending, it was rough without any mercy. and you weren’t a fictional character, neither was this a fairytale.

You’re in his lab today, chocolate wrappers, guitar, papers here and there, the nightlife hours starting outside. And you are both sitting opposite each other, you’re sitting on hendery’s usual seat, a comfortable huge chair you loved to dominate whenever you’d drop by here and he’s sitting on a random stool that was lying outside, not complaining a bit.

“So, um,” you remove the headphones a few minutes later. And hendery listens in rapt attention, something you wished he did when you asked him to choose which dress he liked better on you,

“I hate to tell you this, hendery,” his expressions tighten as he tenses his jaw, “but, babe, you’ve nailed it this time around too!!!” You scream and envelope him in a hug.

And poor hendery is still shocked, but he hugs back as it soaks in his mind.

“This song is gonna be the shit people hear on loops, hendery, loops! This is a bop,” he pulls away.

“You really think so?” You nod your head.

He hugs you again, more tightly, “i love you,”

“So,” he drums his finger on the table after a long few minutes of awkward silence. The order still hasn't come. And you both have been looking at the other tables, there weren’t many people here.

“How’s life been for you, aside from your profession?” he asks.

“I don’t think I quite gave it much time, don’t regret it though, what about you?” your profession, for you, had been something of a coping mechanism in the past few years, it had been something you had given your everything to, and strangely enough it hadn’t packed up its bags one day and said, ‘we aren’t working anymore,’ and left.

“Oh yeah, no, i did try to make it work with someone, it’s going good for now.”

The last nail in your coffin. It takes up your entire energy to not flip the table over him and run away from not only the city, but the country and never leave a chance to ever bump into him again, because you see you did try to forget him.

But it never happened. It was just automatically that your hand reached over to the other pillow in your bed to ruffle hendery’s hair to wake him up to only be met with the cold side of the bed, and to take out two cups of ramen, only to quickly keep it back inside and to pretend it never happened.

“That’s nice,”

And thankfully, the cafe guy is coming over with your drinks.

And you sip on your macchiato as it gets awkward again. You can’t bear to look him in the eyes, no. It just cracks your very soul and you suddenly get annoyed with the fact that if he wanted he would have kept the girlfriend thing to himself, but he had to put it all in your face.

But your thoughts wander furthermore after this, does she get to listen to his songs firsthand? Does she get to eat the food he makes? gets to ruffle his hair first thing in the morning? gets to wrap her arms around him and feel his heartbeat?

 hendery slammed his hands on the steering wheel. He had fucked up. Big time. Plus the traffic wasn’t budging. He rested his head in his hands. The cars honked occasionally and the city lights hurt his eyes, an upbeat song was playing over the radio in a low volume and the car was warmer than the outside.

This was the third time in a row he’s done this. And he could feel the guilt build up in him, he wasn’t worried about your reaction to this.

You’d kiss him, tell him to not worry about it and go to sleep as it was probably late and he would be tired.

He was scared that this was gonna keep happening and he’s gonna wake up without you instead of you sobbing softly out in the living room. He was afraid he had messed you up too much. And what for?

The traffic clears as he presses the accelerator and lets go as fast as he can.

And back home you’re not disappointed, you’re just tired. You weren’t upset that hendery hadn’t showed up, but he hadn’t even texted you, surely it would take just a second.

But it was okay, he had work. It was important. You sighed as you slipped into your pyjamas and moved to the sofa to watch something.

And you hear the key turning then, signalling hendery was home, you stand up to greet him and as soon as he’s visible, a sympathetic look is plastered on his face.

“I’m sorry….” you hug him before he can complete and he hugs back with equal force.

“‘S alright, hendery, it’s fine.” And you rub his back.

And suddenly you hear a sobbing sound from him. A long and choked up noise and you pull away to get a good look on his face.

“dery?” You cup his face, “what’s wrong, honey?”

“Oh, babe, i’m not going anywhere.” You crawl close to him and wrap your arms around him. “I’m gonna be right here hendery, and things like these happen all the time, but that doesn’t change the fact that i love you, okay? I’m gonna stay. I’m gonna be with you as long as you want me to.”

“I messed up, I mess up all the time, why are you even here?” He’s sitting down now, crying in his hands.

He nods as his sniffles fade away slowly and you’re both just sitting on the floor, holding each other, knowing no one’s gonna go away. 

“And, um, y/n, i have to tell you something.” He finally speaks up. His body language tells you it’s been what he’s wanting to tell you since you met at the counter and you nod at him to continue.

“I wanted to apologise.”

You almost spit your drink.

“Why?” Even though you know the answer, you want him to confess his sins. Confess the fact that he threw a forever away in a matter of a moment, that he didn’t listen to what you had to say.

“I’m sorry for what I did, I truly and genuinely loved you and I made a huge mistake. Everyday I think about what could’ve been if I didn’t do what I did.”

loved.

But that made the two of you if he thought about it. It was okay now, now that you met him, now that he apologised to you, know that you’ll say “it’s okay,” to him, piece by piece it’ll start to get better. You believed it.

You’ll still love wong kunhang, but a little less maybe.

the silence in your home is biting. You can hear the low whirring of the air conditioner and the tick tocking of the clock. The text bell breaks the silence though, for a second, but it does.

“Coming home, give me 5 minutes.”

hendery wasn’t late. He just hadn’t came home for the entirety of last week. He has to work on this new album, he’d said to you when you called him this morning. Normally he had told you not to call him when he was working since it broke his link of working but it was out of hand now.

And he told you he’d come home today and talk.

You sighed as the lock clicked, and he closed the door behind him.

He throws a small smile at you, “y/n,” and he knows this is going to be hard when you don’t return it.

He sits beside you as you try your best to not let the tears fall, “what?”

“I’m sorry but this isn’t the way i want to see you, i want you to be happy-“

“Well, then damn, dery, keep me happy!”

“Will you let me complete?” You glare at him as you blink more to keep the tears at bay.

“Look, I realised that i want to see you happy, but i’m just simply, i can’t. So,” he takes your hand and grazes it with his own.

“So, i’m letting you go, y/n,”

“What the actual fuck ‘letting me go’?” Now there's no meaning in trying to keep the tears hidden, they come as fast as you stop trying to hide them.

“The thing is hendery, if you would’ve been sorry right now, i would have honestly had no problems in being here again and to end up in this same situation, i would go through it all again, but the fact that you just want back away is so disgusting,”

“Sorry would have meant that i would no longer do it again, y/n, and you know my work, I can’t keep promises,”

“So that’s it? We’re finishing this conversation and you’re taking out all the shirts from our wardrobe?”

His silence is a reply enough, and you can’t do anything but sit there as quietly as you shushing yourself and hoping this was someone else in min hendery's body and that tomorrow you’d wake up to him apologising and explaining how his body got swapped with someone else.

But it never did happen 

“It’s okay, hendery. You did what was best for both of us,” you take a sip from your drink. “I couldn’t see it then, but I do see it now,”

“You do?” He raises his eyebrows,

“Yes,” you nod gently.

And his phone rings. “Excuse me, i gotta take this,”

And he’s barely a few steps away from the table when he receives the call and says, “yes, babe, i’m coming i just met an old friend.”

And you smile. It was okay. You’ll probably cry yourself to sleep tonight but tomorrow will be better, and you will be better again.

#prism.nw #neoturtles #nct x reader #wayv imagines #wayv x reader #wayv scenarios #nct x gender neutral reader #nct drabbles #nct scenarios #nct angst #nct x y/n #wayv #wayv hendery #wayv angst #wayv smau #hendery imagines #hendery x you #hendery x reader #hendery #nct timestamps #nct oneshot #nct fluff #nct u scenarios #nct u x reader #kpop x reader #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #nct wayv

[letstalkaboutshtufff]

A Bad Feeling Pt 1

Levi x Reader

Part 1

Paring: Levi Ackerman x Cadet reader

Warnings: 18+ attempted rape/assault, cursing, mention of injury, violence

Summary: Reader feels uncomfortable around a overly friendly captain. Are they just over reacting? Or is there something else going on. What will Levi do when he finds out?

***************************************************

A.n. ok so I literally wrote this in one go, it's probably trash but I wanted to post it anyway. Please lemme know what you think in the comments! Thank you!

"Y/n! captain Oro is asking for you" you did your best to hide the discomfort Armins words made you feel.

You smiled what you hoped was a convincing one and nodded. With a deep breath you made your way to Captains Oro's office.

Ever since you had been introduced to him those few weeks ago, he had taken a special liking to you. At first you had been excited, having such a highly skilled and well known captain take notice of you was one of the best feelings. Especially since your squad leader, Levi wasn't exactly heavy on praise.

Everyone loved Captain Oro, he was known for his strength and stamina on the battle field. He was both charismatic, and charming. Your fellow cadets practically swooned over him. You couldn't help but also get caught up in his perfection. At first that is..

Over time you noticed things about your meetings that put you on edge. An unnecessary shoulder touch here, a too low pat on the back there. Something was off. And although you had done your best to distance yourself from him, it was hard when your squads often had to work together.

But it was hard to say anything against him because even your cold blooded captain seemed to enjoy his presence.

Once you brought it up to your friend Sasha, about how you felt he was being too friendly. But she waved her hand and basically said you were worrying for nothing, he was just a friendly guy. And you were being dramatic.

Maybe you were overreacting? If captain levi approved of him, surely that meant he was a decent person right? Maybe he was just being really really friendly.

You decided to give him a chance and knocked on his door when you finally arrived.

"Come in" a muffled voice came from the other side.

With a click you entered the candlelit room. It was nearing sundown after all.

"Ah cadet y/n! Perfect, I was wondering if I might ask your opinion on something?" He smiled angelically and gestured towards a parchment on his desk.

"Of course sir" you nodded and approached him, reminding yourself of what sasha said. Just relax.

From the way the parchment was positioned you had no choice but to come to his side of the desk.

"Do you see this area here?" He gestured to what you now saw was a map. "What do you think of leading a squad through here instead of what we originally planned?"

The next 30 minutes you spent completely and professionally discussing strategies. Being the member of your squad that was best at this, made him asking for you completely justified. You felt bad for ever doubting his intentions.

"Thank you y/n, I think I have a better idea of what course we should pursue on our next expedition" he smiled sincerely.

"I'm glad I could be of service" you nodded and allowed a relaxed smile to pass your features. Feeling stupid you had judged him so harshly.

" If you wouldnt mind just one more thing?" You nodded as he pulled out a stack of papers.

"If you could look over this report of the last mission before I send it out? See if theres anything else to add?"

"Sure, I'd be happy to Captain" you grabbed the stack.

"And please if you can, return them to me tonight, I'll need them for the meeting bright and early"

"Yes sir, I'll finish it asap, good evening" and with that you exused yourself.

Tonight? It was already sundown. Well whatever, hes so busy he probably doesn't know what time of day it is.

You found a quiet spot amonsgt the crowds in the common room and got to work.

************************************

"Oi brat, it's passed curfew, go to your room now, we have important work tommorow" the unmistakable voice of your captain rang through the now empty hall.

You looked up in surprise and meet his usual scowl, not even realizing how late it had gotten.

"Hai, s-sorry captain, I'll go now" you gathered the report and quickly left, not wanting to receive another scolding for taking too long.

Oh crap you still had to deliever the report. Changing routes you snuck quietly down the familiar hallways. Not particularly feeling like running into Levi again. Something about him always made you act just a little dumber and it was definitely not because of your non existent crush on him...definitely not.. he was just intimidating is all.

*knock knock*

You waited patiently but there was no answer. Crap did he already go to bed? But he knew I was coming? Ugh what should I do? He needs these reports..

With a sigh you change direction again and head for his personal chambers. There was no way you were getting in trouble for not delivering these reports on time.

You smiled when you saw dim light flood from beneath the door.

Lightly you knocked, "Captain Oro, its y/n, sorry it's so late but I have the rep-" you were cut off abruptly when the door swung open and there stood Oro.

Except he looked nothing like the Oro you were used too seeing. His hair was loose from it's normal slicked back do, and the edges were dripping slightly. His shirt was loosely thrown on revealing a decent amount of skin. He must've just bathed.. you could see why the girls were so obsessed with him. He was, platonically speaking, a very gorgeous man.

You were taken aback but reminded yourself that you did knock after hours so of course he wasnt going to be all soldiered up.

"U-um s-sorry Captain, I have the reports" you averted your eyes and shoved the reports in his direction.

"Ah y/n, thank you, would you please put them on my table? My hands are still slightly wet." He laughed holding them up innocently.

"S-sure" god why were you stuttering so much, you fight goddamn titans for a living?! But somehow you were more nervous now than when a 10meter was clawing at you.

You entered the room and tried to avoid looking around too much.

You always wondered what the inside of the higher ups rooms look-

*click*

You whipped around, alarm bells suddenly back in full force.

"Captain what are you-"

"You're such a good girl, you know that y/n?" Oros whole demeanor changed and you cursed yourself for not trusting your earlier instincts.

"U-um" you really did not know what to say or do as he took a couple steps closer.

"Always so obedient for me, I think you deserve a reward don't you?"

Shit

"That's not...that's not necessary captain, I really should be going" you tried to lunge for the door but he was quicker and much much stronger.

"I don't believe I dismissed you cadet..." he purred pinning your arms to the door in the blink of an eye.

You were by no means weak, but your struggles were useless against him.

"Let me go" it took all your strength not to stutter in fear.

"How adorable, you know I love it when you follow my orders so well, but I think..." you shivered in disgust as you felt his lips near your neck and press down.

"I'd like to see you fight me as well" you whimpered as he sucked and bit down on the soft flesh.

"S-stop it, p-please" he smirked and looked into your fearful eyes with his lustful ones. "Stop? But that's not what you really want is it? You see I know exactly how girls like you are" he chuckled darkly and moved one of his hands to grip both your arms, while the other slid lower. You gasped when he cupped your breast. "S-stop! I'll, ill scream If you don't!" You felt a tear slide down your shaking form.

"Scream?" He snickered like you had told the funniest joke.

"Go ahead and scream doll, itll be very interesting to see what happens"

"W-what?" You were utterly confused.

"Think about it, if someone walks in on us, what would they think? Seeing a cadet after hours in her superiors chambers?"

"B-but I! I was bringing the reports i wasn't-!"

"Do you honestly think theyll care what you have to say? Who do you think theyll believe y/n? You a nobody cadet who's been fighting titans for 3 seconds? Or me, a selfless hero whos saved countless of scouts lives? All I have to tell them is that you came into my room and tried to seduce me. When I tried to restrain you, you screamed. Who do you think theyll listen too? Why else would you be here so late at night?"

"Y-You're..you're insane, you're not a hero, y-you're a coward who-" he grasped your jaw harshly causing you to wince.

"I'd watch that mouth of yours y/n" he squeezed harder. I am your superior after all, and we wouldnt want any nasty rumors going around that would have you suspended from the survey corps now would we?" He bent down and to your horror pressed his lips against yours.

Fuck fuck what do I do?!? Hes blackmailing me now. I cant fight him, hes too strong, think think think.

But your mind was blank when his cold lips pressed against your lips again. "Open your mouth" he ordered in a voice laced with animilistac lust.

You abruptly turned your head away desperate to get away.

"Heh, always such a tease" he traced a finger up and down your cheek, flipping over your lips. "I'll enjoy this-"

"CAPTAIN ORO, COMMANDER ERWIN REQUESTS YOUR PRESENCE IN HIS OFFICE IMMEDIATELY" a voice shouts from the other side of the locked door.

With an annoyed sigh, Oro pulls away slightly, "Did he say why?" He lazily looks over in the direction of the door.

"NO SIR!"

"guess it can't be helped... Alright tell him I'll be there shortly" he yelled out.

"Hai" the footsteps recended and you stood deathly still.

He pulled away from you and you immediately pulled your wrists to you, they were an angry red, and it scared you how much strength he had so effortlessly displayed.

"Sorry doll, it looks like we'll have to continue this another night" he stepped away and began dressing normally as if he hadn't just been assaulting you 5 second ago. You quickly make for the door but his voice falters your step, "Oh and y/n?"

You dont look at him, but fear held you in place until he finished, "If you mention our little moment to anyone, you know what will happen" you nodded quickly, anything to appease him and get out.

When the door shut behind you, you felt the flood of tears break through.

D-did, d-did that really happen?!?

You held a hand to quiet your sobs and quickly dashed through the hallways.

You're heart thumped and you felt the need to vomit. You hadn't felt this way since the first time youd encounted a titan. All you wanted to do was get to the safety of your room, just through the hall.

It felt like a bucket of cold water had been thrown on you when a cold voice shouted out and halted your movements. Please not now, oh god any time but now.

"Oi cadet y/n are you deaf as well as dumb? I asked you a question.

"Why are you out past curfew?" he sounded definitely annoyed and you gathered all your strength to hold the sobs out of your voice.

Without turning around you answered, "I-I had to deliver some r-reports..I'll head to my room now.." you stepped forward hoping he would let you go but you were not so lucky.

"Oi brat, did you hit your head? I didn't dismiss you yet. Not to mention you haven't even addressed me properly, maybe some time cleaning up horse shit will remind you how to respect your superiors" fuck he was definitely angry now.

Still you didn't turn around, you couldn't..."S-sorry Captain Levi, I'll do better in the future.." you barely could even focus on the words coming out of your mouth, your heart was beating a mile a minute. Please just leave me alone!

"Hahh" Levi uttered in disbelief and severe annoyance, even the most novice of cadets turn around when being spoken to by a superior. "Are you trying to piss me off brat?!?"

"No sir..." still you didnt turn around, but gulped in fear when you heard sharp footsteps near you.

"Cadet y/n, you have three seconds to turn around and salute me properly before I throw you into the cells for insubordination" he ordered in his dangerously calm voice, that you never thought would be directed at you.

Having no other choice you slowly turn around, hoping to god the darkness of the room would be enough to hide your current state.

You kept your head down, letting your hair fall over your face, but gave a proper salute. Hiding the Wince that came when the tender flesh of your wrist had to bend.

Your eyes were trained on the floor. And you tried to remember how to breathe normally again.

"At least you remember how to-" abruptly his harsh scolding stopped.

Why did he stop?! Fuck did he notice something. No no calm down, he probably just is coming up with another punishment...right?

Wrong...

Levi was far from being done with dicisplining you but he caught sight of your bruised wrist and furrowed his brows immediately. He knew for a fact the last time you spoke in the hall those had not been there. He was quick to take in the rest of your demeanor and knew immediately that the reason you were acting disrespectful was because something was wrong.

"Cadet y/n.." he said suspiciously slow and not full of anger anymore.

"Y-yes?" Please dont ask me, please dont ask me, please dont-

"Look at me"

*******************************

Part 2 here

Okay so that's part 1! Please comment and lemme know what you think🥰also I'm super sensitive so please no hateful comments. Thanks for reading!

#levi x y/n #levi x you #levi x reader #levi x oc #levi ackerman #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman imagine #levi ackerman x cadet #levi ackerman x cadet reader #snk #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfic #levi ackerman fanfiction #self insert #part 1 #injured #rape #hurt #comfort #captain

[pftones3482]

One of the commissions I'm doing for @randomfandomfan ft Hurt/Comfort Adrinino. Find it on my AO3 here.

Set post Rocketear and pre any kind of romantic relationship (tho it's hinted at). This was already a fic I wanted to write, and one of the prompts they sent me fit the concept almost perfectly, so I ran with it.

Under a cut for length.

~~

“It’s your fault.”

Nino jumped about a foot in the air, whirling from where he’d been shutting his door with his phone pointed menacingly at the source of the voice. His backpack smacked him in the hip, knocking him off kilter, and he stumbled, bracing himself on the doorknob. His eyes scanned the room slowly, shoulders easing when he didn’t spot anyone. “Hello?”

“What are you, dense, kid?” scoffed the voice again, from right in front of him, and Nino squeaked at an embarrassing pitch when he registered the Kwami floating there.

The Kwami.

The Kwami.

A black cat Kwami.

Nino dropped his defensive (if somewhat undignified) stance, staring at what was definitely Chat Noir’s Kwami. “Um. You’re not supposed to be here.”

The cat’s eerily green eyes rolled. “Wow. Intelligent.”

Nino spluttered, feeling awkward. “W-Well I’m sorry, dude, how do you expect me to react!” he demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. Something like ice settled in his gut as the Kwami’s existence finally clicked. “W-Wait, why are you here? What happened?”

“You happened,” the Kwami snapped, and uh. Okay. Not what Nino wanted to hear right now.

“What?”

“YOU. Do you have any idea how much you upset him? How much you hurt him the other day? He won’t say it, Nino, but he’s hurting. He’s been hurting, and you unloaded on him and beat him and told him how awful he was and if you weren’t his best friend and I didn’t think you were the only one who could help right now, you’d be in a pile of rubble.”

Um.

Holy shit.

Nino had never heard a Kwami so pissed. Wayzz could get a little condescending sometimes, and Ladybug had admitted that her Kwami could be a little snarky (as could Trixx, as Alya had confirmed time and time again). But never had he seen a Kwami literally shaking in rage.

He’d be more terrified if the cat’s words weren’t sinking in.

“Hang on, hang on, dude,” Nino said, crossing his arms in an “x” through the air. “Is this about Rocketear? I apologized, I-I thought me and Chat were okay. Also like, I respect the guy, but he has no idea who I am, dude, we’re not best friends.”

“Had,” the cat spit out. “He had no idea who you were.”

Nino’s stomach swooped out from under him and he gripped his desk chair tightly to keep from tripping. “What?”

The Kwami gave him a smug, if not irritated, smile. “You told him yourself.”

“D-During…when I was fighting him?” Nino squeaked. “N-No, I saw the footage, I didn’t tell him I’m Carapace!”

The cat softened. “Before, Nino. Before you were akumatized.”

“I didn’t-”

“Of course, when Ladybug appears, he throws himself to her feet with roses and love confessions!”

Fuck.

“But he is always rejected, because Ladybug thinks that he’s annoying. And she is COMPLETELY right!”

Oh, fuck.

“I know because I’m also a superhero. I’m Carapace.”

“Shit.”

Nino fumbled for his desk chair, sinking into it hard and banging his elbow on the back. The pain was almost numbing. He put his head in his hand, pushing his hat back off his head and staring blankly at the wall.

“Oh my god, dude, I-?”

“Yeah.”

The Kwami sounded almost sad this time, and that, somehow, was worse than him threatening to kill Nino.

He didn’t really remember being akumatized, until the end, when Alya broke him from Shadowmoth’s hold. And despite warnings from his friends, he’d watched the footage from his akumatization. Even without Alya recording, someone usually was, and the footage was always online by the end of the day.

He knew what he’d done to Chat Noir.

He’d seen the way he dropped his baton, a sign of surrender. The way Rocketear hadn’t hesitated to push him back with everything he had, pounding him again and again and again into that van, how he’d grabbed him by the head and slammed him backwards like-

“Nino!”

The Kwami’s paw was gentle on his wrist and Nino shuddered, scrubbing at his eyes furiously and dislodging his glasses. “Oh my god, oh my god, where is he?” he choked out. “I-I need to find him right now, Kwami dude, I-I can’t believe I-”

“Plagg,” the Kwami offered, his scratchy voice easing Nino from his panic. “And it wasn’t you, kid.”

“B-But it was, that’s the worst part,” Nino whispered, standing and pacing now. “I hated him, I hated him so much I – oh my god, he tried to tell me.” He laughed, bitter, holding his hands together behind his head. “He tried to tell me Alya and Chat didn’t have a thing and I-”

“Nino,” Plagg interrupted. “He’s on the roof.”

Nino stopped, blinked at him. “He’s what.”

Plagg nodded upwards, his antenna bobbing. “On the roof. Been there every night for the last week.” His voice lowered. “He wanted to talk to you, but he’s too scared.”

“He’s on the…he’s on my roof?”

Nino scrambled around his room, grabbing a jacket and an extra hoodie before reaching out, snatching Plagg, and shoving him into his hat. He froze a millisecond later. “Um. Please don’t cataclysm me for that, dude.”

Plagg’s chuckle was more like a purr. “Please. As if I’d need to use all that on just you.”

Nino supposed he should be insulted, but with everything he now knew, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was nearly one am – he’d been out late studying with Alya – so now he crept from his room and to the front door, hopeful not to wake his family. Grabbed his key off the hook by the entrance, and then eased the apartment door shut behind him.

It was only one flight up to the roof access, usually locked, but Nino had come up here with Alya more times than he could count, so he knew that if you wiggled the lock just right, it would come undone on it’s own. They’d oiled the hinges ages ago so that it didn’t scream every time it was opened, and now it was silent as Nino pushed it up and stared over the flat top.

Adrien was silhouetted in the moonlight, precariously close to the edge, and it made Nino’s breath hitch. He pushed the door all the way open and clambered up onto the roof as quietly as possible, easing the hatch shut again before turning back to his best friend and slumping.

Best friend.

God, how could he have-?

“You didn’t know,” Plagg whispered, gentler than Nino had expected him to be. The Kwami zipped from his hat, hovering in the air next to him, and he offered Nino a grim smile. “I might hate you a little right now for what you did to him, but you didn’t know, kid.”

Nino let out a shaky breath and started the trek over to his friend, fiddling with his extra sweatshirt. The night air was chill, and he was glad he’d brought it – Adrien was in nothing but short sleeves.

“All week, huh?” he murmured, watching as Adrien jumped a little, fingers tightening on the edge of the roof. “Could’ve just called, dude.”

Adrien twisted, lips parting. “How did you know I was-?”

His eyes landed on Plagg and a squeak slipped from his mouth as his hand shot to his shirt pocket. It wouldn’t have been funny if he hadn’t gone so pale.

So Plagg hadn’t told him he was telling Nino. Interesting.

“Y-You can’t-! You told-?”

“You’ve been here all week, Adrien,” Plagg snapped. “You weren’t gonna tell him, I was. You need a cheese in your corner.”

Nino had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to care.

Adrien’s eyes were tired. There was no glint in them. The circles under his eyes were deep – he must’ve been wearing makeup to school, because Nino hadn’t seen them until now. His hands were trembling, his lips were bitten raw, and Nino felt his entire heart shatter.

“I am…so sorry,” he choked out, tears spilling over. Adrien jolted, turning his gaze from Plagg to him.

“Nino-”

“No, dude, no, I-I-I…I don’t care that I didn’t know. I should never have said those things, I should never have hurt you like that, oh my god dude, I hurt you so bad, I like could have killed you, a-a-and…”

He froze, reeling, and stumbled back. Adrien got to his feet warily, holding his hands up. “Nino?”

“You were gonna let me.”

He wanted it disproved, but Adrien’s flinch told him everything. His chest seized and Nino choked on his breath. “You were gonna let me, you would’ve fucking let me, you fucking asshole how could you? Do you have any fucking idea how much I care about you dude?”

He shoved Adrien without thinking, hands firm against his shoulders, pushing him back and away from the edge. Adrien’s eyes were wide, lip trembling, and Nino pushed him again, closer to the center of the roof, this time forcing the sweatshirt into his grasp. Adrien clung to it, lips parted, and Nino dragged his hands through his hair, pacing as Adrien shrugged the sweatshirt on. He’d left his hat downstairs, he registered somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Oh my god,” he choked out. “I-I…I’m so sorry dude. I’m so sorry, your dad, and then school, and modelling and your stupid model diet and then you’re a literal superhero and I’m supposed to be your best friend and I didn’t even…”

“You weren’t saying them about me,” Adrien whispered. “I know that.”

Nino spun to face him, vision blurry. “If you knew that you wouldn’t have been on my roof every night for the last week working up the nerve to talk to me. If you knew that you wouldn’t have thrown down your weapon and let me beat you to-”

He cut himself off with choked cry and he rushed at Adrien, clinging to him with a force he didn’t know he possessed. He cradled his friend’s head gently, heart sinking for a moment until he felt Adrien’s hands lift to settle tentatively on his back.

“I don’t hate you,” he whispered into Adrien’s ear. Nino swallowed, throat aching. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate Chat Noir. I was mad. A-And that’s not an excuse for what I said, and I’m so sorry. I’ve never hated Chat Noir, dude. He was always my favorite. I just…”

“You were upset,” Adrien finished, soft.

“Jumped to conclusions,” Nino corrected. “I was jealous of Alya keeping stuff from me, and I jumped to conclusions, and I hurt you, shit I-I hurt you, I-”

“I’m okay, Nino. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Nino croaked, tightening his grip. Something in him breathed easier when Adrien tightened his own back, harder, his shoulders starting to shake. “It’s not okay, I love you, dude. Don’t do that for me. Don’t ever stop fighting back when it’s your life at stake, I-I can’t…”

Adrien’s grip clenched in his hoodie and suddenly Nino’s neck was wet with tears. Nino carded his fingers through Adrien’s hair, turning his head just slightly to press his lips against his temple. “Talk to me, dude,” he whispered. “I’m here now, you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

“You can’t tell, Nino,” Adrien croaked. “I mean it, not even Alya. Y-You can’t. Promise me.”

“Hey.”

He pushed Adrien back, gentle, and cupped his cheeks, swiping away the tears on his skin. “I promise,” he said firmly, staring Adrien in the eyes to show he meant it. “This is too big to tell, dude.”

“You told me-”

“I trusted you,” Nino said, squeezing Adrien’s shoulders. “I was pissed, and I knew I trusted you more than anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t say anything. A-And I was wrong, dude. I shouldn’t have told Alya’s identity. Mine is one thing, but that wasn’t okay. But man, dude, you have it rough as it is, without anyone knowing you’re a superhero. I’m not telling, dude.”

Adrien swallowed, throat bobbing, and glanced behind Nino, where he presumed Plagg was floating. Plagg must have indicated something, because he slumped and gave a weak smile. “Thank you, Nino.”

Nino shook his head. “Don’t thank me. D-Don’t…not after that.”

Adrien’s hands were on his cheeks now, fingers freezing. “Hey. It wasn’t you. You might’ve been mad, but it wasn’t you. It was Shadowmoth amplifying those emotions, and you beat him. You beat him, Nino. I’m…so proud of you for that,” he whispered, voice cracking.

Nino pulled him in again, arms clinging to his back and his nose pressed into the hood of Adrien’s borrowed sweatshirt. “I’m proud of you too, dude,” he said. He felt Adrien’s grip tighten on his back. “No one ever says it. I’m proud of you. And I’m-”

“If you say sorry one more time,” Adrien croaked, laughter behind his tears, “I will personally dangle you off the Eiffel Tower by your shield.”

Nino chuckled and stepped back, tugging Adrien’s wrists gently. “Come inside,” he pleaded. “It’s cold out.”

Adrien glanced behind his shoulder, teeth worrying at his lip. “I should get home,” he said. “It’s late.”

“Then they won’t notice,” Nino said, pulling him a step further. “C’mon, dude. You’ve been by yourself for so long. I wanna hear about being Chat Noir.”

Adrien looked back to him, lips parted. The glint in his eyes was illuminated by the surrounding buildings, and something in Nino’s stomach twisted in a way he wasn’t going to question at the moment. “Really?”

“You kidding? Of course, dude.”

Adrien’s mouth slid into a tiny smile now, head tilting in that puppy-dog way only he could pull off. “Yeah. Y-Yeah, I’d like that. If you’re sure it’s-”

Nino knelt down and lifted the roof access cover, climbing onto the ladder and looking back up at Adrien with what he hoped was an inviting grin. “Dude. Just get inside already.”

Sneaking back in was harder than sneaking out, only because now he had another person in tow, but they managed to get back into his room without waking anyone (even after their quick excursion to the kitchen for a block of sharp cheddar, because Plagg was whiny). Nino shut off all the lights in his room except his desk lamp, leaving the soft glow to illuminate the corner and moving to his bed.

Adrien hesitated at the foot of it, fiddling with the sweatshirt strings on Nino’s hoodie (and Nino was ignoring how much he liked that image, that was something he could confront in the morning). “Um.”

Nino rolled his eyes and held out an arm. “Come cuddle, bro. And tell me about being the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

That got a snort from his friend, and Adrien crawled into the bed next to him, flopping against Nino’s side and leaning his head against his shoulder as Nino tucked an arm around him. “I thought I was the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

“Oh my god, you and your alter ego literally are competing for the same spot, that’s so fucking funny,” Nino cackled, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake Chris next door.

Adrien chuckled and then fell quiet, and Nino traced a circle on his arm, feeling the mood shift. “Wanna talk about what’s been going on with you and Ladybug?”

“How did you-?”

“It’s pretty obvious when you’re working directly next to the two of you. And especially now that I know it’s my best bro behind the mask? What’s up?”

Adrien went still again, and then rolled over, pressing his face into Nino’s shoulder. “Can we talk about that tomorrow?” he mumbled. “I’d rather just…hang out, for now.”

Nino tightened his grip, focused on the ceiling, and tried to quell the racing thoughts in his mind. “Of course, dude. Of course.”

Adrien’s breathing evened out, and Nino had a feeling he probably wasn’t heading home anytime soon. He didn’t care, just shifted to put his phone and glasses on his nightstand and then rolled over to hold his friend closer, smiling thinly when he instantly clung back.

Plagg was curled up on the pillow above Adrien’s head, and his cat eyes blinked sleepily as he studied Nino. “Thanks, kid.”

Nino loosened a hand and reached up, scratching the cat on the head, fully prepared to lose a finger. To his surprise, Plagg just purred and nudged up into the touch. “Thanks for breaking the rules for him,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry I put both of you through that.”

“You’re a good kid, Nino,” Plagg said, yawning and curling his tail around himself. “Stupid, but good. Wayzz likes you for a reason.”

The Kwami went quiet and started snoring, leaving Nino to flush at the compliment, run his fingers through Adrien’s hair, and fall asleep with a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

#my writing #writing commissions #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #rocketear spoilers #plagg #miraculous ladybug #ninoir #adrinino

[crackheadgeminibby]

jealous

pairing: chris evans x black!reader

warnings: age gap, language

word count: 2k

a/n: this lowkey sucks and i’m sorry for that but i really wanted to post it🤭

i do not consent to my work being copied in any way, shape or form or reposted on any other platform

not my picture

You’re sitting on your couch, eating popcorn and watch Fresh Prince reruns when your phone starts to ring. As expected.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, where the hell are you? You said you would come.” You groan loudly. “I know, but I started to feel kind of sick and I didn’t want to get everyone else sick, you know?”

There’s a pause at the other end of the phone for a couple of seconds before, “You’re such a liar. You’re never sick.” You roll your eyes at that. Of course he would know that.

Ah yes, Scott Evans, your best friend of multiple years. You had met in college and practically hated each other at first. You both were very sarcastic people and it annoyed each of you in the beginning, but you ended bonding because you were the only people that really understood each other’s humour.

“Fine, I just didn’t want to come, okay? I’m tired and I just wanted to chill at home.”

“But Y/N, you never miss the mid-summer barbeque. My mom keeps asking when you’re getting here. And I freaking miss you. Just like pop over and eat a burger or something than you can go back to your popcorn and your cat boyfriend.”

“Hey! Leave Mr. Business alone, he didn’t go anything to you.”

Scott bursts into laughter at that.

“Okay, okay, sorry Mr. Business. But Y/N, seriously, please, just come for a while.”

You groan even louder than the first time, “Fine. But I’m eating a hot-dog and fruit salad and then I’m leaving.”

“Yes! Okay, see you in 30!”

You hang up the phone and reluctantly get up from your couch, headed to take a shower.

You normally didn’t mind going to Lisa’s house because you adored Scott’s family. Since the beginning, they had all been so nice and welcoming to you. Well, you know, except Chris.

Chris and you did not get along, to say the least. He annoyed the shit out of you, always showing up with a new bimbo on his arm, making out like there’s no tomorrow in front of everybody. Like, literally. Every single time you saw him, he was with a new girl. He also spent the entire time you were at the house taking digs at you. Always for different reasons, which kudos for the originality, but they were always increasingly mean. This meant that you could never stay too long when Chris was there or you would lose your shit, like at that one Christmas dinner. Oof, bad memories.

As you’re standing in front of your closet, you contemplate all of your summer clothes. You end up deciding on a sheer long sleeve top and black dress. You rapidly do your hair and makeup as you hear Scott sending multiple texts, probably asking where you are.

You finally arrive at the house about 45 minutes later. You immediately head to the backyard, where lively noise and soft music are coming from.

As soon as you get in the backyard, you spot Scott, sitting on a chair, beer in hand, talking with his mom.

When he sees you, his face lights up and he excitedly waves you over.

“Hi guys!”

“Y/N! We were starting to think that you weren’t going to show up!”

You laugh slightly, “You know me, always have to make an entrance and all!”

You sit down on a chair next to them and listen distractedly as they continue with their conversation.

As you’re starting to think about getting yourself to eat, Chris enters the backyard with another one of his hook-ups, as on schedule. You roll your eyes slightly as you tell Scott and Lisa that you’ll be right back and head to the food table.

You’re distracted by the customization of your food and don’t realize that your seat is now occupied by your least favorite Evans.

“Um, excuse me. I was sitting there.”

Chris barely spares you a glance as his hook-up looks at you, offended, and scoffs. “So? There’s plenty of chairs in the backyard.”

“Okay, well, this chair has my phone on it so obviously I was going to come back to sit here, so move.”

Chris makes a mocking pout at you and says, “Oh, you’re right, sorry.” He then rolls his eyes and smirks, “Or not.”

You grind your jaw and swallow your pride. There’s no need to make a scene. You give Chris the fakest smile you can muster and bend down to take your phone from the chair’s drink holder and turn around to sit on the other side of the pool.

Unfortunately for you, this gives you a direct view of Chris’ make-out session. You shudder and groan as you direct your attention to the children playing in the pool.

After eating, you head to the cooler to get a beer but, of course, it’s empty.

Knowing that Scott always keeps a secret stash of his favorite beers in the basement, you leave your plate and phone on the chair before heading inside. As you go down the stairs, you remember that they didn’t have any light down here. Would have been pretty smart to bring your phone but, oh well, too late.

You get a bottle from the fridge before cracking it open on the door. You’re about to go back upstairs when a sound surprises you and you let out a scream while throwing a punch out in the dark.

“Ow, you hit my face! What the fuck is your problem?”

Of course it would be him.

“Well, you scared the shit out of me so not my fault.”

You skirt around him and head back upstairs. However, before you can pass through the kitchen and head back to the backyard, you feel a hand around your arm.

“Wait. I wanna talk to you for a second.”

You turn around and shake your arm out of his grip. You take a sip of your beer while you wait for him to speak. Chris sighs loudly before asking, “Why do you hate me?”

You choke on your beer before looking at him with wide eyes.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re always super rude to me whenever you see me, and you always leave parties after like an hour when I’m here.”

“Okay, so we’re doing this.” Chris frowns in confusion at this.

“First of all, I don’t hate you, you just really annoy me. You’re always showing up with a new girl, always more plastic than the one before. You’re always eating their faces in front of everyone, which like, ew. And you’re the one that’s rude to me, by the way, so…”

You shrug and are ready to down your beer and leave when Chris whispers, “Wait, you don’t like that?”

“Why the fuck would I want to see you making out with a different girl every few weeks?”

“But Scott said that-” When he realizes what he’s saying, he stops abruptly and puts a hand in front of his mouth.

You tilt your head in confusion, “Scott said what?”

“Umm… Well, he said that… Uh, you liked bad boys?’

You feel heat making its way from your belly all the way up to your cheeks. You were attracted to the more edgy ones but what the hell did that have to do with anything?

“And?’

“Well… I thought that, you know, if I was like that, you would like me?”

Realization hits you and you mutter, “Oh my God, I’m way too sober for this shit.”

You gulp down the rest of your beer and try to think of what to say when you hear, “Baby, come back outside.”

Chris’ date saunters into the kitchen and glares at you as she practically hangs herself from his arm.

“Yeah, um, good luck with that,” you gesture to the girl next to Chris and finish with, “and I’m gonna go.”

You put your beer bottle in the trash and head to the backyard. You get your phone and rapidly say by to Scott and Lisa before practically running out to your car.

Once you’re back home, back in your pyjamas and watching TV, you ponder over your short conversation with Chris. It kind of made sense that he suddenly started acting all macho around you. The first few times you had met Chris, he had been pretty nice to you but was very reserved. You just assumed that fame had gotten to his head and that’s why he had started acting like that. You roll your eyes as you remember that Chris had said that he was acting like that because of Scott.

you, 6:45pm:

so why exactly and in what circumstances did you reveal my type to chris?

You put your phone down but almost immediately receive a response.

scott, 6:45pm:

I didn’t know you guys could have a conversation without murdering each other.

I don’t even remember talking about this with him

you, 6:46pm:

he told me that you told him that i liked “bad boys”

scott, 6:46pm:

Oh, that

I’m pretty sure I told him that like 15 years ago when you met him

You frown at this. He’s been acting like a dumbass for 15 years and for what? You shake your head as you look for Chris’ name in your phone contacts.

you, 6:47pm:

where are you right now?

You put your phone down and head to the kitchen to make yourself a quick snack to eat. As you’re washing the things you used, you hear a text message coming in.

christopher, 7:03pm:

I just got home.

Why?

you, 7:03pm:

we need to talk, come over

You were kind of nervous. Chris had never come inside your house and you were sure that he would have plenty to say about it, but you were not in the mood at all.

About 15 minutes later, you hear your doorbell ring. You exhale slowly before opening the door and stepping aside to let Chris in.

He walks in and looks around before turning back to you and saying, “It’s pretty.” You could feel that he was different from the other times you had seen each other.

You mutter a “thanks” and motion for Chris to follow you in the living room.

“Okay, so you said that Scott told you the type of guys that I liked but you didn’t say why he told you that.”

“Um, I asked him, a long time ago.”

“Why?”

“Well, you know…”

You start to get annoyed and reply, “No, I don’t know, otherwise you wouldn’t be sitting here right now, would you?”

Chris exhales loudly before responding, “I thought you were beautiful and smart, and I liked you and I wanted to be like the other guys you liked.”

“I- huh?”

“At first, I thought it would make you laugh or something but then you didn’t react so I thought that if I was a little mean, you would notice me but then it didn’t work so I thought that I would try to make you jealous and here we are.”

You look at Chris with your mouth agape as you try to register what he just said.

“That seems rather cliché, no?”

“Yeah, I know, it was dumb and weird, but I didn’t know what else to do to make you notice me.”

“I don’t really know what to say, to be honest…”

“How about I take out sometime and you can get to know the real me?”

“Umm… I guess?”

Chris gets up, a grin on his face, as he heads towards your front door.

“I’ll text you then.”

As you hear Chris start his car and leave, you’re still sitting on the couch, completely shocked.

What the fuck just happened?

#chris evans #chris evans x black!reader #chris evans x reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfic #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x woc #chris evans fanfictions #chris evans fanfics

[andypantsx3]

say the word and you know i’ll follow

pairing: Todoroki Shouto / Reader

status: complete

length: 3,262 words

summary: While moving in with Shouto, you get caught up reliving the scene of his confession. Quite literally.

(A smutty oneshot sequel to my fic if i could keep cool.)

tags: romance, reader-insert, fluff, smut

warnings: aged up characters, eventual smut, cunnilingus, light bondage

notes: Also cross-posted on my AO3! The manga really has me all in my Todo feels rn but I don't wanna write a whole other fic before I finish the Hawks one, so please have this fluffy smutty one shot as a compromise. It likely won’t make sense unless you’ve read if i could keep cool first, so please check it out if you have the time!

It was sweltering when you stepped outside to make your way to Shouto’s apartment.

A thin film of sweat immediately began to build wherever your skin pressed against the box you carried, and the sun beat down furiously on the crown of your head. You instantly started to second guess your choice to take the train, wondering how dumb of a move it had been to decline an alternative means of transit. It was going to be like being packed into a sardine can and roasted over a hot stove.

Shouto had offered to send an agency car, but there were only so many more times you were going to make the trip from your crumbling student apartment to his place, and you had wanted to make the most of it. You didn’t even really need to bring boxes over just yet--as Shouto had hired a moving company to take care of everything next week--but you didn’t want to lose anything that was inside this one. This one held all your most treasured items--keepsakes from your friends, a pressed white tulip, and all the gifts Shouto had ever given you (minus, of course, the vegetables).

Steeling yourself for an uncomfortable twenty minutes, you set off towards the station, weaving through the tired crowds of people who looked just as sun-weary as you. Thankfully, with a hat over your face and a box you could shift to obscure your features, very few people seemed to recognize you as you did so.

A lot of the media attention surrounding your mishap a year ago had died down, and you had been good about keeping your relationship mostly private, so you weren’t exactly a household name to most people. But there were enough twitter-savvy teens and meme-literate college students that you were sometimes recognized as you went about your daily life.

This time, you were only eyed curiously by one pair of teenage girls as they bundled into the train car across from you, but they didn’t say anything to you, didn’t ask you to reenact the most embarrassing five seconds of your entire life into their phones, as many often did. The box hid you from the rest of the train car, and no one else seemed to take interest in your presence.

After exiting the train at downtown, you made it to Shouto’s building in record time, all but rocket-fueled by your desire to get out of the hot sun. The security team in the lobby of his building gave you friendly nods as you passed, one of them graciously pressing the button for the elevator so you didn’t have to fumble around your box.

You thanked her, making your way into the elevator and elbowing the button for Shouto’s floor. The elevator was even cooler than the lobby, and you shivered in delight as the frigid chill of air conditioning washed over you. God, this building was so fucking nice compared to yours. You were going to be spoiled as fuck once you lived here.

You made it to Shouto’s floor without incident, though digging in your bag for your keys was impossible at the moment, so you knocked on his door as firmly as you could manage with the box still balanced in your arms.

There were a few seconds of silence. Then, the door swung open and Shouto stood there, grinning at you.

His hair still looked a little damp from a recent shower, and he was wearing a dark button up over a soft tee shirt and a pair of dark jeans. He looked unbearably good, as boyishly handsome as ever, and your heart gave an embarrassing little stutter, like it always did whenever you saw him. You suspected it was always going to be like that, no matter how long the two of you had been dating.

Shouto’s eyebrows went up as he considered the box in your arms. That heterochromatic gaze picked over you curiously, expression going carefully blank, like it typically did when he was up to some mischief. And then, after a long moment, he spoke.

“You’re not wearing the scarf,” he said, sounding upset.

You stared up at him, feeling your brow wrinkle. The scarf? It was fucking summer, and the scarf was neatly tucked away in the box you were holding. It was literally boiling hot just outside the well-air conditioned hallways of his building. Why on earth did he think you would be wearing--

You inhaled a little sharply when the answer hit you.

The scarf.

The scarf was the first thing he had mentioned the day he had finally confessed to you. Well, after you had confessed first, really, on national television earlier that week, that you were thirsty as hell for him and were also really bad at picking up subtle clues. Or overt clues. Or any clues, honestly.

But now you were standing in his hallway with a box again, and he was clearly remembering what had happened the last time you had done so.

You wracked your brain for what you had said to him in reply that day, trying to hone in on the words past the sudden swell of embarrassment.

“Uh, it’s in here,” you finally replied, gesturing to the box.

That grey and blue gaze dropped to the parcel in your arms, then flickered up to your face. You pushed the box at him, the way you had the day he’d confessed, feeling just as squirmish as you had then.

What else had you said to him? Something very watery and over dramatic, likely. Something like...

“It’s all, um, there--if you wanted to check,” you said. “Except for the vegetables obviously. But I can pay you back, if you give me a couple months.”

Shouto was clearly suppressing a smirk as he feigned curiosity. “Pay me….what?”

You suppressed your own absurd laugh, wondering how far down mortifying memory lane he wanted to go.

“I also wrote down a recommendation for a new cleaning lady, if you want,” you said, patting the top of the box. “It’s in there. Her name’s Mika, she’s super nice. And I can message you or your manager when I have the money. Just let me know which one you’d prefer. Or I can have Mika drop it off.”

Shouto gripped the box, then, long, elegant fingers pulling back the flaps for him to peer inside. He looked absolutely delighted to find the scarf actually within. In one fluid movement, he pulled the scarf out, depositing the box behind him, and turned back to grab your sleeve, pulling you quickly into the apartment with him.

“Okay, what are you doing with the scarf this time?” you laughed, breaking character.

One white eyebrow went up as Shouto gripped your wrist firmly, eyeing you closely as he pulled off your baseball cap.

“Mm,” he hummed absently in his deep tone. “Something I should have done the first time.” He caught your other wrist, pressing it into the sinfully soft fabric of your favorite accessory.

You looked at him, bewildered, feeling your mouth twist into a slight frown. You rather liked the way things had gone the first time around, considering that you had ended up with a boyfriend at the end of it all. What was his bone to pick with the first time around?

“Uh, if I’m recalling correctly, the first time went great,” you said to him. “Like, really really great. Christening your countertops several different times great.”

There was a flash of white teeth as Shouto grinned.

“Ah, but I missed an opportunity,” he said. A soft sensation slid over your other wrist, and you looked down in confusion.

Then it hit you what he was up to, and your face instantly went up in flames.

A firm tug had your wrists knotted together, and Shouto smirked down at you, tugging you closer by the silky fabric of your scarf. Your stomach swooped at the intent look in his eye.

“I had been upset you weren’t wearing the scarf,” he said. “But there was an easy way to fix that.”

You swallowed heavily, your tongue feeling strangely thick. Your brain was suddenly, but predictably, very very empty.

“Y-yeah. But technically you, um. You did fix it,” you babbled helplessly, limbs growing shivery with static as Shouto pressed closer. He was so warm, and he was so stupidly handsome.

“I’ve, uh, worn it a lot since,” you managed.

Shouto considered you quietly, a familiar, wry little smile pressing at the corner of his mouth.

Before you’d started dating, you’d been confused as hell by that expression, suspecting it meant he was bewildered by your very existence but was too polite to say so. After just over a year together, however, you had learned that was just what his face did when he thought you were being unreasonably appealing. Which, mystifyingly, was mostly when the working part of your brain disconnected from your mouth.

You scrounged around for other coherent words, thoughts thick and sluggish, like you were thinking through pudding.

Shouto, however, was merciful, putting an end to your suffering by leaning down and taking your mouth with his.

All the coherent thought you’d managed to dredge up melted away like frost under the morning sun. You pressed yourself closer to him, leaning up to give him better access to your mouth. Shouto kissed you as stupid as he always did before a hot hand came up to cup your face, thumb sliding over your cheek affectionately.

“It seems I’ve got you in the scarf as I had wanted,” Shouto said quietly, once he let you up for air. “But now I find that the scarf is all I want you in.”

You opened your mouth to respond, though what you might have said was as much a mystery to you as anyone. But all that managed to come out was a choked, breathy little noise.

Shouto laughed.

Then there were large hands on your waist, and the next thing you knew, you were staring down at the wood paneling of Shouto’s floor as it moved underneath you. Shouto adjusted you over his shoulder briefly, and then he was charting a brisk course to his bedroom, depositing you like an errant pillow back onto his sheets.

Your cheeks burned as he crawled over you, gaze hot and searching.

“Are you alright, love?” he asked.

You nodded vehemently, eyes pulled to the little flat sliver of his abs where his shirt had ridden up.

“Good, yeah, I’m so good,” you managed to garble out. You were going to be so embarrassed about this later, but as usual when it came to him, you really couldn’t help it. If you’d learned anything in the year you’d been together, it was that you would always have the world’s fattest crush on Shouto Todoroki.

Strong fingers came up to grasp your chin, tipping your face up for another searing kiss. You managed to loop your bound arms over the back of Shouto’s neck, tangling your fingers in his soft hair and pulling him down to you more firmly.

Shouto flattened himself against you, so that you could feel every strong plane of his body, every hard muscle. You shuddered, and you could feel Shouto smirk against your mouth.

“Like that, do you?” he asked, hands pulling at your shirt. You wiggled so that he could pull it out from under you, sliding it up to rest just below the scarf. In the next second he’d also gotten you out of your pants, so that you were mostly bare to him in the cool apartment air.

Shouto looked you over for a moment, looking like he still couldn’t believe you existed. “Having you over the countertops was something that I wouldn’t change. Something that I won’t change, once you move in.”

Your face went hot and you squirmed underneath him.

“However,” he said softly, “I believe I would have liked to have been more deliberate with you. Taken my time with you,” he paused. “Perhaps...I might have made you come once for every photo of me on your twitter.”

The tips of your ears went hot. Jesus Christ, he couldn’t be serious.

You had deleted that twitter over a year ago, and though he’d apparently been allowed access to the contents by his manager (rude) there was absolutely no way he could remember how many pictures of him you’d retweeted. You’d been the one doing the retweeting, and even you didn’t remember, though you thought the number was probably embarrassingly high.

“There was like, one,” you squeaked out.

Shouto’s smile went dark and he leaned over you, his perfect, infuriating mouth so close he might have kissed you again.

“Thirteen,” he said, mouth brushing yours as he spoke. “There were thirteen photos of me on your twitter. All while you tried so hard to act like you didn’t want me, that you wanted to be just friends.”

“Hey, you said you wanted to be my friend,” you protested. You jerked when his hand slid up your side to cup a breast, thumb slipping under the band of your bra.

“You weren’t accepting my gifts,” he said, fingers grazing your nipple. You bit down on an embarrassing noise, letting out a sharp breath. “How else was I to make you take them?”

You opened your mouth to respond but Shouto made another pass over your nipple, and a moan escaped you instead.

“That’s right, love,” he said encouragingly. “Now I’m going to make you give me something in return. Thirteen somethings, in fact.”

He peeled down the cup of your bra, fastening his hot mouth over your breast. You whined, twitching when he flattened his tongue, dragging it slowly over the point of your nipple. A strong arm came up to press your hands down over your head.

“Shouto, thirteen is insane,” you panted.

He paid you no mind, instead swirling his tongue in a way that made your vision blur.

A tugging at your wrists made you look up, in time to see Shouto one-handedly looping the long end of the scarf through the slats on his headboard and pulling tight. Your whole body clenched up at the implication.

The slide of fabric over your breasts told you that Shouto had also managed to get your bra up, and hot mouth closed over your other nipple, long fingers carefully plucking at the other. “We have all weekend, love. Thirteen is ambitious but quite possible.”

You made a weak noise of acknowledgement, hips shifting forward against his stomach.

Shouto laughed, hot breath ghosting over your breast, and then he was crawling down your torso, hands grasping your underwear. He pulled it down slowly, torturously, until he managed to get it off you, then pulled your knee over his shoulder.

You whimpered, feeling like you might actually pass out from how hot he looked, one thigh thrown carelessly over his shoulder, gaze intent, staring down at you like a starving man looking at a hot meal.

You squirmed, trying to pull your arms down to get your hands on him, but the scarf held fast, pulling more firmly over your wrists.

“Shouto, please,” you said, though whether you were begging for him to touch you or to let you go, even you didn’t know.

Shouto seemed to take it as permission. Those two-toned eyes passed over you hotly, and then he was leaning down, biting down gently on the inside of your thigh. You jerked violently, but he held you in place, mouth trailing slowly, slowly down to where you wanted him.

You thought you might actually black out before he got where he was going.

“I can’t believe I ever told you you were unwelcome in my apartment,” he murmured, sucking a slow bruise into the skin at the crease of your thigh. “Once you move in, I’m never going to let you leave it.”

“Oh my god,” you said.

Shouto’s tongue flicked out, catching the edge of your sex, and you tried not to choke on air.

Then, finally, he moved, fastening his mouth over you, exactly where you wanted him. All reason completely left you.

After that, everything was an unbearable flurry of feeling--a soft tongue swirling over you, the tickle of his bangs on your stomach, the press of broad shoulders between your knees. There was the rasp of his sheets between your shoulder blades, the slow, deliberate press of two fingers inside of you, a firm grip on your thigh, fingers digging in tightly.

You could feel every point of connection with him, every minute movement of his mouth over you, and the sensation built up into something so horribly, terribly good. You were unable to do anything but writhe and pant underneath him, babbling something that sounded like it might be an approximation of his name.

Shouto hummed and sucked softly, those long fingers curling inside you. He finally hit a spot that made you see stars, and you practically lifted off the bed, back bowing. Shouto licked you through it, tongue curling expertly around your clit while you sobbed out his name, only slowing when your body went slack, collapsing back into his sheets.

When you could see straight once more, you realized he was staring up at you, that wry smile curling the corner of his mouth again.

You fought down a blush, feeling an embarrassed grin pull at the corner of your own mouth.

“You’re unreal,” you said. “I can’t believe I’m going to get to have you all the time.”

Shouto pressed a short kiss to the skin of your hip. “You already have me all the time.”

You flapped a hand in its bindings. “You know what I mean. I can’t believe we’re going to live together.”

His fingers slid gently over the back of your thigh. “I’d have had you in here sooner, if you hadn’t insisted on graduating first.”

You laughed. He was always so very straightforward about whatever he wanted.

He had been making very unsubtle noises about living together only a few months into your relationship, but you’d insisted that you wait at least a year. He’d grown up with more conservative mores, having been raised a rich boy, and taking things quickly once he knew he was serious about you seemed to be the style of things. But you, despite your frankly unreasonable thirst for your own boyfriend, knew the value of taking things just a little bit slower.

So you’d waited a year, just to be prudent, though you’d known all along how things would end up.

And now he finally had his way.

“I’m all yours now,” you promised, laughing. “Soon you’ll be sick of me hogging the bed, and leaving books everywhere, and getting so blackout at the farmer’s market that we don’t have room for all the vegetables.”

“Ah, you’re using me for vegetable access,” he accused, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the smile he was attempting to smother into your thigh.

“A girl’s gotta have her priorities,” you grinned.

Something lit up in Shouto’s gaze again, and he shifted up against your thigh to lean over you more fully. His fingers gripped the back of your knee tightly.

“I'll make you pay for that,” he promised darkly. “Twelve more times.”

You shivered as he took your mouth again, fingers sliding back between your thighs with obvious intent.

And then you really did. You paid for it.

Twelve more times.

#todoroki x reader #todoroki shouto x reader #shouto todoroki #bnha fanfic #bnha #smut #fluff #bnha x reader

[todrokishoto]

times two | katsuki bakugou

summary: you deserved the world times two and bakugou couldn’t give it to you. 

warning(s): swearing, heartbreak, angst, sad!bakugou 

a/n: based on the song chicken tendies by clinton kane. um, idek where this came from. heard the song for the first time and this was born,,, so enjoy some mild bakugou angst, i guess?? 

also, my very first time writing for bnha/mha. just started the show two weeks ago soo (yeah, i know i’m slow). i’m currently watching season 4, so no spoilers pls

katsuki bakugou wasn’t usually at a loss for words. while he didn’t always have a clever retort or a proper answer to a question, he would at least typically respond with a half-assed insult. 

so when his crimson eyes landed on the girl that was practically a spitting image of you, he surprised even himself as his words got slower and slower until they stopped all-together. his throat felt tight. chest heaving, he gasped for air. 

izuku midoriya followed his friend’s — although bakugou would have his head on a platter if he uttered the word aloud — gaze. his green eyes were locked on the person that could quite literally pass as your twin. but it couldn’t be... could it? no, that was undeniably and unmistakably you. 

and the blond hot-head knew it. he spotted all the telltales right away. how could he not; he knew you better than the back of his own hand. the biggest giveaway, though, was your dress. the one he had gifted you on your birthday last year. 

he wondered if that was still her favorite color.

he watched quietly, unable to will his feet to move, as the car you had just gotten into shifted into gear and began its journey. as it merged with traffic, his chest tightened at the sight of your small hand shooting up through the sunroof. 

“tch. why do you always do that?”

“i don’t know. i like the way the sun warms my skin. and the way the wind moves in-between my fingers... makes me feel so carefree.” 

the memory was taken from his mind before he could fixate on it as the green-eyed hero next to him called out his childhood nickname. he didn’t have to look at the annoyingly energetic man to know he was sporting a worrisome expression. so he ignored him instead, stalking off as a quiet growl escaped his lips. 

later that night, katsuki bakugou found himself alone on his balcony, trying his best to ignore the cold breeze caressing his exposed skin. he was also trying his very best to get the image of you from before out of his mind. he was a pro hero, for fuck’s sake, and he couldn’t afford to be distracted. 

he refused to dwell on the irony of it all. how your relationship had dwindled due to his irrepressible need to constantly prove himself; to become number one. he was too focused on his hero duties, you had said. but now, he couldn’t focus on said duties even if he wanted to - mind too preoccupied with painful memories of you. 

the silence engulfing him was deafening. he hated it. he missed your bubbly laugh. he missed your gentle ‘let’s go lay down’s. he missed your constant smile. he missed your blaring music and mediocre dance moves. shit, he even missed hearing his own voice scolding you. 

anything was better than the silence he couldn’t escape. 

he missed you.

you were always so full of love. full of laughter. always so carefree and positive. the literal sunshine of their class at u.a. high. as his classmates loved to point out; the literal opposite of him. he was explosive and straight-to-the-point while you were cheerful and (sometimes) a little naive. 

he wasn’t quite sure what post-breakup stage he had reached. he never really could bring himself to pay attention whenever kirishima and kaminari talked about it. all he knew was that all the pent-up rage and frustration that had once resided within him was now replaced by sadness and self-hatred. 

the signs had been there, he was sure. so why hadn’t he noticed until it was too late? the thing is, proving himself as a capable hero had always been his priority. more than you, unfortunately. and he couldn’t blame anyone but himself. 

you had looked happy though, he realized, the scene from earlier replaying in his mind. like a scratched dvd disc that couldn’t move past a certain point. his mind wouldn’t let him forget, despite his heart begging with every painful clench. 

it was for the best. his friends had uttered the words to him in their own ways. deku had been beating around the bush for weeks before gently suggesting that maybe it just wasn’t meant to be - maybe this was better. kirishima and even mina hadn’t been quite as gentle. kaminari hadn’t tried to sugarcoat it at all.  

you deserved better than him. you were happy. he hadn’t been able to give you what you wanted - needed - and now someone else had filled the spot in your heart where he used to be. you deserved the word times two and if he wasn’t able to give you that, he refused to hold you back. 

“i hope he treats you better than i ever could,” he whispered into the black night, his hand coming up to wipe away a tear that had managed to escape. 

#bnha #mha #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #boku no hero imagines #mha x you #mha x reader #my hero academia imagines #bnha x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x you #bakugou x reader #bakugou angst #pro hero!bakugou #pro hero!deku #deku #izuku midoriya

[inkbyajm]

Bottled Up

pairing: C.H. x fem!reader

category: angst, fluff

warnings: yelling, crying, insecurities

word count: 2.2k

notes: apologies for the tardy post, i wrote and rewrote and re-rewrote the whole angsty scene because i didn’t know if it was written well enough, i wanted to make sure you guys could feel the emotions that i vividly visualised and tried my best to put into words  :( i did send it to a friend to check and she seemed to like it, so let me know how it goes for you, my loves. the angst for this one was inspired by 2 different songs - hold me while you wait by lewis capaldi and i will run from you by cemeteries. it’s not necessarily about the lyrics, but more about the melody and the mood you get into listening to them (they go in order). give those a listen :) also, beware of the upcoming philosophy references, i did study philosophy last year, hopefully no one gets triggered lmao

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Is a person’s scent something a normal human being picks up on before taking into account the rest of their features? Would a normal human being remember said scent and be able to recognise it in a crowd full of strangers? Corpse wasn’t too sure about the answer, but one thing he did know, is that she smelled delicately sweet, like cherry blossoms, and that ever since he had noticed it during their game night a few weeks ago, he simply couldn’t let it go. It was intoxicating, but in a calming way. 

━

Corpse and (Y/N) each lay on their beds in their own homes, going into the third hour of their call. He couldn’t exactly fall asleep, so he had decided to see what his dear friend was up to, and even though she was this close to succumbing to sleep, she said nothing and stayed up to keep his busy mind company.

“Okay, hot topic: what do you think about soulmates? More specifically the romantic type?” the girl asked, not knowing how much of a risqué question it was. How was he supposed to answer?

“I don’t really have an opinion on it. Why?”

“I read Symposium by Plato the other day and it presented an interesting concept about human beings. Basically-” Of course she fucking read philosophical books. How were they even having a conversation with each other? Why were they even friends? She was on a whole other level of smart. “-so this guy says that humans were like androgynous blobs, so they’d come in two sets of everything a normal person has. But those humans were so powerful, the gods were literally shaking in their robes, so Zeus decided to cut everyone into two to weaken them. But then humans became so miserable, they spent their entire lives searching for their other halves. In the end, Zeus kinda felt bad and said fuck it, I’ll give y’all dicks and vaginas for every time you wanna hug each other. And that’s the oldest explanation there is about the idea of soulmates.” she sighed, finished with her rant.

“That was...not at all the story I expected to hear.” she heard him mumble on the other side of the call. “Yeah, Greek philosophers were up to some reeal freaky things, you would have loved them,” he laughed at her joke, “I honestly think it’s cute. Not the whole cutting people into two thing, but like, longing for someone and then finding them because you finally feel complete. Don’t get me wrong, I’m a strong independent woman who doesn’t need a prince in shining whatever to sweep me off my feet. But it does sound nice, that ideal comfort, a person you’re just...meant to be with, I guess.”

There was a moment of silence that neither of them really minded, before it was Corpse’s turn to ask the second bold question of the night. “Have you found that person yet? Your soulmate?”

She’s never thought about it before, but she hasn’t really thought about soulmates that much either, it was a spontaneous thought she had said out loud. “I’m not sure, actually. (B/F/N) could be one, I guess.” (Y/N) shrugged in return. Wasn’t she going to ask him about it? She probably didn’t care that much. Understandable.

“My favourite quote about love is «You come to love not by finding the perfect person, but by seeing an imperfect person perfectly.». It’s by Sam Keen, the American philosopher. It maay be the hopeless romantic in me shining through, but I do very much agree with his statement.” Did this mean anyone could have a chance with her despite their fuckups? So if he were to try, would she-?

“Obviously, there are some things that just can’t be ignored or avoided, but at that point it’s preferences and personal tolerance. Depends on the person, ya know?” she swiftly added, unaware of the effect it had on him. Sick. Some people were just meant to rot alone.

The final question was posed by (Y/N). She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t at all curious. This little crush of hers had been steadily growing with every hang out, every laugh, every hug and every glance. There are rarely ever moments where one could casually discuss a topic this personal with friends, at least there weren’t with friends one had feelings for. This was the perfect opportunity.

“Corpse?”

“Hmm?”

“Have you ever been in love?” her voice was soft, her approach gentle.

“Well, I’ve been in relationships before, so I guess, yeah? It’s been so long, I don’t even know what love feels like anymore.” he let out a breath resembling a chuckle. Lamest fucking answer ever. But it was true. He hadn’t thought about love in that way in quite a while.

“A lot of people describe it as having an intense range of overwhelming feelings. Lightheadedness, slight shakiness, heart palpitations, some people have even reported losing their appetite. Crazy how human bodies work, huh? Oh! Speaking of chemicals-”

She had continued on to ramble about...chemistry? Eyes? Corpse couldn’t really hear what she was saying anymore, let alone concentrate on her words, as he pieced everything that’s been happening for the past few months together. The nauseating feeling. The pounding of his heart so fast it felt like he was about to die. The urge to make as little eye contact with her as possible, because otherwise he’d turn into a furnace. The obsession with her perfume, like he was some fucking creep. The fool was falling in love. And it was at that moment that everything had come crumbling down.

━

(Y/N) and Corpse hadn’t talked for a couple of weeks. Or rather (Y/N) messaged the 23 year old many times, but he’d either claim to be busy or just not answer at all. There were two possible reasons for the sudden lack of contact: he was indeed busy with his musical projects and couldn’t allow himself to be distracted; or something much more serious was going on. It didn’t matter, for she was already in her car, on her way to his apartment.

Arriving at her destination, she used the spare key he gave her months ago, a sign of absolute trust, and allowed herself into his humble abode. Silence reigned in her friend’s residence. She thought maybe he had gone somewhere, and though that was unlikely, it wasn’t unprecedented. The door to his recording room was closed, and while she was tempted to check if he was in there, she refrained from doing so, knowing that specific room was not to be entered unless he was around to give permission.

“Corpse?” she called out just to make sure. There was no response for a few minutes, which made her assume she had the place for herself, until she heard a door open behind her. Turning around, she saw his figure emerge from said recording room in a white t-shirt and black sweatpants, his curly hair disheveled.

“Hey, how are you d-”

“Why are you here?” he spoke flatly, interrupting her. “Well- You weren’t, um, answering your messages or any of my calls, so I thought something had happened.” she replied, suddenly nervous, fiddling with the rings on her fingers. “Nothing happened. I told you I was busy.”

The air around them seemed colder as tensions rose. (Y/N) could tell he was irritated, but she couldn’t exactly figure out why. She had never seen this side of him before. “Okay. Tell you what, I assume you haven’t had dinner yet, so why don’t I go ahead and start cooking something up while you-”

“Get out.”

She blinked a few times, not quite registering the words that had just left his mouth. “Sorry?” Her voice was quiet. She was taken off guard.

“Are you deaf? I said get. the fuck. OUT.”

Corpse shouted the last word, making her flinch in what appeared to be fear. Good. Run away while you still can. Heart pounding, (Y/N) took a second to remind herself whom she was speaking to. “I see that you’re angry, but at least give me a reason why-”

“You want a reason? I just don’t fucking WANT you here!” Anger grew inside of him like a tumor, but it wasn’t intended for her. She had simply been caught in a storm that had been building up for years. “Do you understand that?! I can’t fucking be around you without feeling like I’m going to EXPLODE.”

His words hit her like paintballs. They were only words, plain and simple, but they dug deeper and deeper into her skin with each hit, until, eventually, it broke. Eyes burning, she felt the tears slowly welling up in them.

“Why are you doing this to me?!” her own voice grew louder with frustration, but mostly, confusion.

“Maybe because I can? Because I’m a goddamn asshole?” 

“Don’t say that.”

“How?! How can I not say it when it’s the truth!” He wanted to stop. His mind told him to cease whatever it was that he was doing. However, blinded with resentment towards himself, he only spilled words he would regret after it was too late. 

“I can’t function like a normal fucking human being. I can’t be a good friend, son, or whatever the fuck else, and I sure as hell can’t love you.”

The paintballs had turned into a singular sword. A very long, very sharp sword that had found itself plunged deep inside her chest. How did he found out? When? Had she been too obvious? Had she been pushy? Clingy? Way out of line? The woman before him was unable to conceal her shock, as tears came rushing down her hot cheeks. Her voice brittle, she tried defending herself. She couldn’t leave it at that. She had to try. Try to have him see reason. “You don’t love me, that’s fine. But you didn’t have to deliver it this way-”

“But I did.” breathless with fury, Corpse clenched his fists so tight they had turned cold, yet they were still trembling. “You can get so naïve and dumb, you won’t understand things unless they’re spelled out nice and fucking bold for you.”

He closed with (Y/N) until their noses nearly touched. He noticed the way she silently shook, her eyes which shed endless tears never leaving his gaze. Unable to make a single sound, she felt the man’s hot breath on her face, his aura domineering.

“Now get. out.”

Her body wouldn’t cooperate as she just stood there. Staring back at him, her inner brows raised. Corpse wanted to hug her. Envelop her trembling figure with his and tell her he was sorry, that he meant none of it, that he had lost his mind. But he couldn’t bring himself to do anything. And with his own tears threatening to spill, he created a distance between them. He needed her gone.

“Leave! GO!”

His yelling was enough to jolt (Y/N) out of her trance, and, in a hurry, she sprinted towards the entrance. The door closed behind her, she felt a sudden urge to fill her lungs with much needed air. She jumped at the resounding scream that emanated from deep within his soul, letting out all of his pent-up rage.

Feet carrying her all the way to her car parked outside of the building, the young woman managed to climb in, and this was the queue for her body to break down. The night was young. The street empty. No one around to hear her long-lasting wailing. She clutched the steering wheel for support, fingers wrapping around the leather in a tight grip. A headache was creeping up from the back of her skull. Her ears pulsated in response to the heavy pounding of her heart. Clumsily, (Y/N) inserted the key into the ignition, felt around for the gear stick, and drove away. She didn’t know where she was going or how long it was going to take to get there. She needed to get out.

What went wrong? When did it go wrong? She couldn’t help but feel guilty, feel at fault. She had never seen that side of him before. He had never treated her that way before.

It was the hugs, wasn’t it? He had to have noticed the way she held on for a second too long to enjoy the smell of his cologne. Her vision blurred as she resumed softly weeping, her salty tears staining her top. Or it might have been the touchiness, she would practically glue herself to him during their movie nights. Unaware of both her actions and surroundings, (Y/N)’s breathing quickened, becoming ragged. Maybe he didn’t like the way she called him three times a week. Her hands were slowly losing control over the wheel, over the vehicle she was driving. She invaded his privacy. That was definitely it. Fuck. How could she have been so damn blind, selfish, ignorant, FUCKING STUPID.

Lights. Something was moving towards her- MOVE.

With a sharp turn, she dodged the approaching car just by a hair’s breadth, but as she had avoided one accident, another came just as quickly. 

#corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse x you #corpse husband x you #corpse husband fic

[bethpeaches123]

So I loved the Oh it’s You update! I was dying when they were talking at the end of the chapter and Peeta is clearly entranced with Katniss...would you pretty please write an outtake of that scene in his POV- I would love to know what was going through his mind when she was talking to him about his marriage....about what he really wants lol

Okay my friend, here you go! It got a little long...hope you enjoy!

I'll be posting this to AO3 soon too, I just don't know if it'll be separate from the rest of Oh, it's you or if it'll be a separate thing.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Peeta sat at a table in front of the window of Brewed Awakening, his hands wrapped around the steaming mug of tea that Sara, the cashier had just placed in front of him. He smiled his thanks as she turned and walked back to the counter, him turning back to stare at the tea bag floating at the top of the mug.

It had been a rough few weeks since he and Delly had broken the news to Connor. Every time he thought about his son’s sweet little face peering up at him as he told him he’d be moving out of their house, and Mommy and Daddy wouldn’t be together any more, his heart physically ached in his chest. He hated that he was causing his favourite person in the world any sort of upset, especially his precious boy.

Peeta felt guilty. He’d tried for so long with Delly. They’d been together since high school, when they were just kids.

Back then, he’d been so fixated on Katniss Everdeen, ever since the day he’d met her, but could never work up the nerve to talk to her, let alone ask her out. He’d been so frustrated and disappointed with himself over it. Peeta had himself so worked up over it, he pushed her away as much as he could and vowed to move on.

The day Delly asked him to go to the Halloween dance in junior year, he accepted. She was a pretty girl who was sweet and bubbly, and he liked that. Liked how she made him feel. There was no real stress with Delly. No real excitement, but it was comfortable. Safe.

He didn’t really think much of the state of his relationship - he just thought it was normal to not be madly, hopelessly in love. He loved Delly, yes, but it was never passionate or all-consuming like the great romances in movies made love out to be. He went through the stages of a relationship with her, did all the things he thought he was supposed to. Delly seemed happy and so did both their families, so when they’d been together for a few years and she started leaving links to engagement rings open on her laptop, he took the hint and proposed. All the while thinking maybe things would become more passionate or...loving, once they got married.

But it didn’t happen. In fact, six months in, he realized things weren’t going to get better and was prepared to ask for a divorce, but then Delly announced she was pregnant. And he knew he couldn’t leave then. Becoming a father was terrifying but it was something he’d always wanted, more than anything else in life. So he decided to once again dedicate himself to his marriage and the mother of his child. And it worked for a little while. But forcing a marriage never works in the end, no matter how much you may want it to, no matter how much you want to put up a united front for your child.

The bell on the coffee shop door chimed as someone opened it and out of the corner of his eye he saw Katniss step inside. His body immediately started to tingle like it always did whenever she appeared. It was like his senses became heightened and hyper aware of her when she was around. He could feel almost like an electric current running through his veins.

She approached the table a few minutes later with her own mug and said softly, “Hey Peeta. How are you doing?”

He was about to reply with a smile and his prepared front, ready to fake it, when he looked at her and read it all over her face: she knew about the split.

He sighed. He should’ve known Madge would open her mouth about it. It wasn’t exactly a state secret, but he would’ve liked a heads up that people knew. That Katniss knew.

“You know,” he said blankly. She hesitated and then replied, “Yeah. Madge and Gale told me. I’m really sorry.”

“Yeah...not exactly great news.”

He pondered it for a minute and then just decided to be honest. “Is it weird that I’m...almost relieved?” he said softly. “Kind of like a weight’s off my shoulders?”

He thought about the way Delly had looked at him that last day. How resentful she looked. He never wanted a woman to look at him that way again. Suddenly, he realized who he was saying this to, and jerked back. He shouldn’t be discussing such personal things with Katniss. “I mean - I don’t mean that, I-I just...just feel...fuck. I don’t fucking know.” he stuttered. “I don’t mean it like that. No one wants their marriage to fail. I just tried for so long to make her happy but nothing seemed to make her happy. Or I never seemed to get it right. Could never get it right for years.”

He felt so defeated. But he didn’t want to talk about this with Katniss. Didn’t want her to think he was pathetic or a failure. Even though he felt like he was both. He was about to change the subject when she spoke up.

“Peeta...it could have been four years or forty years, it doesn’t matter. If it’s not right, it’s never going to be right. It doesn’t matter how much time you dedicate. Some things just aren’t meant to be. You shouldn’t have to try so hard in a relationship. Yeah, they take work, but not that much work. Not that much grief.” He watched her as she continued, entranced by her words.

“It should be...effortless, in some ways. Like when you meet someone, and you click, and it’s like… ‘oh. It’s you. There you are.’ Like you’ve been waiting for them this whole time and didn’t even realize it.”

Peeta stared at her, frozen at the words that seemed to tumble from her mouth. The click she spoke about. Oh, it’s you. It’s...you.

Like you’ve been waiting for them this whole time and didn’t even realize it.

Well, he realized it now. He still liked her. The pull he’d felt all those years ago to Katniss Everdeen was back. As much as he forced himself to try and forget about her, being around her the past few months had dragged those feelings right back up. Oh.

“Oh.” He hadn’t realized he’d said the word out loud. And that he’d been staring at her this whole time. He briefly watched as her eyes left his and flickered down to his mouth. Woah. What was that? Was she…?

Katniss coughed lightly and said quickly, “well, like I said: some things aren’t meant to be, no matter how hard you try. As shitty as this is, and as much as I’m sure it’s going to be difficult to work through, maybe this is the start of a new chapter for you. Where you can figure out...what makes you happy, without having to focus so much on making someone else happy. Besides Connor. Take some time to figure out what you really want.”

What he really wanted. What did he want? Right now...he could finally admit to himself that he wanted what was right in front of him. He wanted...her. He realized that the split from Delly meant that he was...free. He wasn’t elated by that, but it did make him realize that he was essentially on his own, once the paperwork went through.

What did he want?

“Yeah...what I really want.” Possibilities and future scenarios began to run through his mind. He didn’t realize he’d been staring at her, lost in thought, until she spoke again.

“Um, maybe we should take a look at this menu, hey? See what you’re thinking for it?”

Peeta was jerked from his reverie. Woah. Slow down. Collect yourself. Get it together. You literally just separated from your wife like three weeks ago. Calm down.

“Yes, of course. Um, there’s a few different options we could go with, like having a savoury package and a sweet package. I was thinking of a herbed goat cheese biscuit for one, but also…”

He pressed on, determined to push his earlier daydreams aside and focus on the task at hand. She seemed to space out for a minute and then made some comment about being concerned about keeping the hot items warm because it was cold in the winter, which made him laugh harder than he had in months.

When they had finalized everything, Katniss made to leave, saying something about another meeting. Peeta was reluctant, but he knew he had to get back to the bakery anyway. He stood up to pull his coat on as she thanked him again, when suddenly, she reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a hug.

He froze.

It was the first time they’d ever hugged. Katniss Everdeen had her arms around him. Katniss was touching him. He couldn’t let this moment pass him by.

He stiffly moved his arms around her and felt her warmth underneath his hands. He took a deep breath and inhaled. Fresh linen. Sandalwood. Vanilla. She smelled heavenly. He exhaled slowly and tightened his grip on her waist. He could feel her slight curves as he breathed in again and felt the electricity buzz through him even stronger. He could also feel the stress he’d been holding onto for so many months start to slowly pour out of him. It was incredible what a simple hug could do. But this wasn’t a simple hug. Maybe it had to do with whom he was hugging.

This was a turning point and he knew it. He was a goner.

~*~*~*~*~*~

#oh it's you #bethpeaches123 writes #oh it's you outtake #peeta mellark #katniss everdeen #the hunger games #everlark #everlark fanfiction #everlark fanfic #mrspeetamellark

[weaselbeaselpants]

Weird week behind me weird week ahead of me but I’ve done a lot of self reflection and came to the weirdest epiphany. The older I get the more I realize all my ‘problems’ with VivziePop - her thoughts on criticism;  the choices she makes in story telling; some of the people she’s worked with (not that any of that’s my business; I’m not her mom) really aren’t about Viv, but more about her fandom.

I’m speaking of the preHazbin era Viv here and as someone who’s only watch horny fish jump at the surface rather than jump straight into the Hazbin-fandom, but given my ‘noncritical’ fellow fans have told me that the Vivziefandom now is also terrible - I guess I’ll go over my experience and make the most out of what I do know.

I followed Viv in 2009 and fell off in 2013 cause I kinda just lost interest and found myself wrapped up in other fandoms. I’ve always felt amicable about her content; I could give or take designs or the way in which she wrote characters -- ((Zech represent!!!)) but it’s honestly surreal and really fun seeing this person I recognize make it big and improve so much. Like I’ve said before I am very happy and very impressed with Viv doing all she’s done in the span of TWO YEARS. wow gurl.

Trouble is, there was the particular breed of fan who really made me...uncomfortable. They felt almost possessive of Viv’s attention. They sang praises about her work in a way that just made me want nothing to do with it because I was worried if I drew those characters these people would be like ‘hey, I’M Viv’s fav artist, not you!”. They would  unironically write Viv messages like:

“you are a GOD” -- “I’m so not worthy compared to you” --“I wish I was as talented as you” -- “YOU ARE EVERYTHING AND CAN’T DO WRONG VIV”.

The kind of messages which were meant to sound flattering but, intentional or not, came off as gaslighting, like they were guilt tripping Viv about being better than them. This behavior, treating your favorite artist/internet personality like your superior and groveling like Starscream, it strikes a nerve with me; partly because I was this way with my favorite artists and influences back in the day,  but also because once I got a taste of that treatment myself I realized just how bad it could be:

There was once a girl on dA who was jealous of me because of the attention I got on my art instead of her. I told her that I wasn’t gonna stop drawing but also that there was nothing wrong with her art and she’d find her place. It was weird being put in that position where someone is very clearly upset at you but also looking for your approval.

The second was some scumball who I blocked in 2016. He wouldn’t speak to me, only write condescending, backhanded comments on my art; check on my profile daily; call me a bootlicker (cuz I took commissions) behind my back; redrew my art and would talk about me in his personal artist notes about how I ‘probably wouldn’t see this’ - oh yeah all the while he did fan art of my characters but again never spoke to me when I replied. When I finally messaged him about his behavior he said he thought I was “really overrated” and “bad for the fandom” cuz I took money and kept him from getting the love he deserved. It took messaging another person within our fandom, one I had been in spats with online before, to finally realize I shouldn't put up with that bs....

That guy who was stalking me btw did so while I was well under 1.K watchers and am still pretty obscure. Anyway, I had one guy unhealthily watching me for the wrong reasons. Just one. This is why when Viv says she “hates creeps” I 150% believe this woman and am not about to call her a liar who just can’t take criticism. Like, if you really think that, I’m sorry but you don’t know what Viv’s gone through from both her critics AND fans.

Of course, a lot of people will be like “I bet you’re just jealous and really just want that kind of attention yourself so you’re preaching to the choir”, but like...no. I am envious of just about any creator who’s the social butterfly I’m not, but, like, if I'm jealous of an artist none of that is that artists’ fault. Ever. It’s my own issues with being comfortable with myself are at stake. If I criticize Viv’s work it’s not because I see her as competition or my Squilliam Fancyson; it’s because I’m a critical fan of animation and cartoons and have my own thoughts to share on the cartoons of an artist I’m familiar with.  Jealousy/envy/mixed-admiration/godIwishthatwereme.jpeg feels are totally natural and valid emotions when you’re a creator. Envy becomes a problem when you internalize, weaponize, and scrutinize people on the basis of them being what you aren’t which -yes - some people do in the name of criticism. ((Although, I would hardly say some of the nastiest AntiViv folk are jealous as much as they are angry that this project they think is harmful is getting attention and using that as justification for some really shitty behavior of their own, which no, this post is not a part of by virtue of coming from a critical fan.))

Critique can come from either a good place or bad place; good critique can be used to bad ends and bad critique can come from a well-meaning place, and vice versa.   It’s the difference between many a criticalfan having a sour taste in their mouth regarding the Viv’s base but persisting in a critique+admiration separate of that, and this asswipemonster trying to weasel his way into Spindlehorse while also bashing Viv on a public forum for clearly vitriolic reasons. He was a creep.

So yeah um please stop insisting that every Hazbin critic is just jealous’ because a) there are people who have a past with Viv’s base and that clouds their judgement, but in a lot of cases that doesn’t invalidate their feelings or thoughts on her work separate from that, and b) I’ve seen what clingy gaslighting jealous fans are. Spoiler: they’re not so much Annie Wilkes as much as they are Tommy Wiseaus. You don’t want Tommy Wiseau following you.

Another bad vibe I really picked up on that I can kinda confirm is still probably the case now: people think that they know Viv and the Spindlehorse crew and have the right to send them shit they don’t need or WANT to be seeing.

Like, I talked with Viv once ages ago. I don’t remember what I said other than we were talking about Frankenweenie, I think. She was nice. Outside of that she said “thank you” to my comments on her deviations but that’s it. I DO NOT KNOW THIS WOMAN AND unless you’ve worked with or are a legit friend/mutual of hers, NEITHER DO YOU. But I don’t think every Vivzie stan/critic knows this. Whether it be people assuming she MUST think they’re headcanon is now canon-canon cuz she liked a comment they made; or some critic thinking they must have seriously hurt her pride because they’ve been blocked by her on twitter (or you know, maybe she and the rest of Spindlehorse is tired of getting @s and don’t have to time to read through your analysis so they’re gonna just block and move on cuz they’re busy).

Just because the creators talk with fans doesn’t mean fans are literally their best friends and have a part in the show’s direction. And yes, critics and reviewers fit that bill as well. Know your damn boundaries people.

If you find/make some kind of contribution as a viewer that’s awesome but you should never expect nor DEMAND the creator see it. The most obvious horror stories involving this and Helluva/Hazbin have been the Instagrams made by the crew being harassed by incestpedo enthusiasts, but it applies even to just @ing creators as well.

I’ve seriously had someone tell me to just take my criticisms directly to Viv and like...no. Why would I do that?

I respect Viv and the artists working with her enough to know that they’re working their asses off on an animated series and should not be bothered. I don’t want them to stop all they’re doing and reply to me. I want them to keep working. Also, that kind of logic makes me wonder how many critics Viv’s found because she found it on her own or if some obsessed fan told her about it - which is really messed up cuz if it IS just good critique you’re, again, just pestering her, and if it wasn’t critique but full on harassment WHY THE FUCK WOULD YOU MESSAGE HER ABOUT THAT ANYWAY? I’m sure she doesn’t need to be reminded that people drew and said really awful shit about her on Tapatalk. My point being I’m sure what people think they’re doing is

“OOOoh Viv lookitwut this person is doing in our fandom we need to ban together against this toxic behavior”

but what they’re actually doing, and sounding like, is -

“Hey Viv I know you are working so hard on the show and you’re trying to figure out where to go from here but LOOKITWHUTTHISHATERSAID. LOOKATIT! VALIDATE ME VIV AND PUT’EM IN THEIR PLAAAAAACE!”

TL;DR Viv’s fanbase back in the day consisted of everyman artists and interests but there was this one breed of fan -who I hope was just a vocal minority- that ruined it for everything else.

Call it stanning or ‘simping’ or as it’s classically known, ‘white knighting’, whatever it was it really soured a lot of people on her because of those fans.

That’s why the DollCreep drama got so bad from what I can tell. Doll and Viv had a falling out and then called out eachother online where people who took it upon themselves to speak for them starting throwing mud.

Back in the day I remember Viv used to get mad at artists for ‘stealing’ her style. I think this attitude from Viv directly has vanished but I remember it happening because one of the people she thought was stealing her style did art for me at some point and they were basically shamed/chased off deviantART by a gaggle of these really nasty Vivfans.

inb4> “VIV WAS AWARE AND STILL WEAPONIZES HER FANS THO”

I don’t know that. And honestly, where I’m inclined to believe she’d do something like that then I think Viv is really different and has improved her business and public image from her college days. I’d be very disappointed in her if she was pulling a Butch Hartman or Derek Savage, but I just don’t think she is one, k?

Viv is more self critical and aware than any of these uber protective-gatekeeping fans give her credit for. She said on the Pizzapartypodcast that she knows the Hazbin pilot wasn’t perfect; she’s been able to identify the problems with old Zoophobia; this woman knows that criticism of all kinds need to exist and from what I see she sounds like she’s trying to get used to that. It’s just, you know, when you have nasty antis badgering you, stalkers, obsessive yes-mam’ fans, opinionated shit posters, r34 artists, entitled shippers and the NDAs of a company alongside your own branded image - all that negativity, even the constructive bits, tend to clump together and you just want to scream at it so you can finish the damn cartoon already!!!!

TL;DR: PART TWO

VivziePop/mind is basically indie Tim Burton.  Her work is fun, shallow and made with love but is marketed as being for everyone when it’s really not. Parts of it I love to watch; parts of it drives me crazy cuz of reasonswhatev this isn’t a review.

BUT any fanbase where people tell me I should just “expect what’s coming to me” when I’m trying to argue against dragging creators into fandrama is troubling. People have a parasocial bond with fandoms and their creators and they need to learn when to back off.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #helluva boss critical #critical fandom #I'm sorry to all the people I messaged n bothered over the past year bout my stupid thoughts #tw: stalker

[trashforhockeyguys]

Days Gone Silent - Jeff Skinner

Part two to Days Gone Quiet.

A/N: So, pregnancy, mentions of a possible miscarriage, trip to the hospital. If any of those things make you uncomfortable, maybe don’t read. 

A whopping 6.6K, but I’m honestly very proud of this story. I’m proud of how this story is. I’m proud of the character growth.

Two pink lines. That was all you could see. Those two stupid lines. Seemed ironic to you that there happened to be a vicious thunderstorm outside. Each clap made you jump, but it was those two lines that made you feel sick. Those two lines….they weren’t what you wanted. 

Your hands shook as you tried to get a grip on yourself. You had to meet Jason in twenty minutes. You were going to the Sabers game tonight. You almost wanted to laugh. This wasn’t supposed to be your life. 

You pulled at your hair for a moment. This was not how your twenties were meant to go. You shook your head and pushed away from the counter before throwing the test in the trash. You could push it out of your mind for one night. 

You arrived at the arena later than planned. Still, you didn’t rush to your seat. You didn’t run to meet Jason. Instead you slowly walked up to your level. Jason liked the higher levels because he could see more. Plus he liked it when you were able to explain the plays to him.

“You’re late. Nearly missed half of the period,” Jason announced when you sat down next to him. 

“Sorry…” You trailed off, scanning the bench even though you knew he wouldn’t be on it, “Um. Yeah, sorry. There was traffic.”

“You okay?” Jason asked.

You nodded slowly. You knew he wasn’t on the ice, he hadn’t been cleared yet. But you knew him well enough to know that he was in the arena. He was here. You hadn’t seen or spoken to him since you left his apartment nearly two months ago...but he was here.

It was half way through the first intermission before you spoke again, “I’m pregnant.”

“Oh..wow..” He blew out a deep breath, “Well, at least we know I’m not the dad.”

“Jason.”

He studied your face before looking back at the ice, realization seeming to hit him like a truck, “Oh shit. It’s his.”

“Well...that’s the only option.”

You scratched at your neck and tried not to keep looking for him. You felt sick, but a different kind of sick. You tried so hard not to think about it. Or to think about the argument that ruined your once perfect relationship with the one man you loved more than anything. 

The engagement ended, mere months before the wedding, because of one simple thing- you didn’t want kids.

You’d never been that person that saw yourself having children. Never thought about being a mother. You loved kids, always swore you’d be the best godmother and aunt, but never mother. That’s what ended it. He wanted them, so desperately, and you didn’t. He knew that it was one thing you wouldn’t waiver on. You would bend when it came to so much, but this was one thing you were going to stand firm on. 

You could still remember the way he looked at the spare bedroom, telling you that he thought that it would one day become a nursery. You remembered the hurt that fell across his face when you made it abundantly clear that it would never happen. 

“Okay...So you call him and tell him,” Jason shrugged, “He’s a good guy, he’ll take care of you.”

“You don’t get it Jase,” You sighed, “I never wanted this. He’s always been the one that wanted kids, I never ever wanted to be a mom.”

“We’ll, there’s option 2,” He said almost grimly.

“No…” You shook your head, “I need to tell him. I might hate it...but damnit he has a say in this.”

You tugged on your hair and tried to figure out how you were supposed to tell him. It had been nearly two months since you talked last. You were the one who left this time. You doubted you could just call him out of the blue. You knew you couldn’t just spring it on him, even though that’s all you wanted to do. You wanted to just rip off the bandaid, tell him and get it over with. Figure out how you were meant to move on from this.

“Or maybe I just don’t tell him.”

“Y/N, you know you can’t do that.”

“I know...I just-” You took a deep breath and tried to push down the feeling, “We didn’t get married because I didn’t want kids. And then when he got hurt we kind of found our way back to each other, until we both slipped and now there’s a fucking baby.”

Jason grabbed your hand, trying to calm you down as best as he could. He might not have known you as long as Jeff had, but he knew when you were stressed. And this….this was more than stress. 

Meanwhile, across the rink, Jeff could see you from the box the team put him in. He was off his crutches, and was allowed to skate again, but hadn’t been fully cleared to play. He thought about calling you since you left his apartment. He wanted to have you back in his life, but he also knew you’d run if he tried. But he missed you. He missed the late nights and the quiet mornings spent in bed. He wished there would've been a way that the two of you could’ve worked it out. It had only taken him a couple of weeks after the entail breakup to realize he didn’t want to live his life without you, but the damage had already been done and he didn’t know how to reverse any of it.

He could see you clutching onto another man, he was pretty sure it was that guy you’d told him about. A blind date that turned into a great friendship. He tried not to be jealous of the way you leaned into the guy, the way you seemed to cling to him. Jeff knew he had no right to those feelings.  

But he still felt like you were his forever...even if he knew that wasn’t going to happen now.

It was nearly a week later when you walked out of the office, a small stack of pictures in your hand. It was a little blob, barely more than a blip on the paper, but it was there. You were nearly out of the first trimester. It was real now.

You took several deep breaths as you walked through downtown. This was really happening, there was nothing you could really do about it. There was going to be a baby. You tried to imagine what your life was going to look like now. Your apartment was big enough for now. But the thought of moving back home to be closer to your family sounded nice, just so you could have help. You weren’t sure how you were even meant to raise a child. 

You found yourself pulling your jacket in closer. The cold wind caused you to shiver. You knew you needed to call Jeff….whatever happened, he deserved to know. Especially when he was the one who always wanted this life. He wanted the white picket fence and swingsets. 

“Y/N!”

You looked up to see Jack just a few feet away from you. Startled, you dropped the small stack of black and white photos. You jumped, realizing he was moving to pick them up. He got to them before you could fully tell your body to grab them first. You could see the emotions fly across his face before he handed them back to you. 

“Do you want to go get some lunch?” He asked, taking you by surprise. 

You let out a deep breath before nodding, “Yeah...lunch would be good.”

So the two of you landed at a table in the corner of the restaurant he brought you to. You knew Jack wouldn’t bombard you with questions, but you knew he had them. He, like the rest of the team, knew you were living with Jeff while he was getting back on his feet, literally. It wouldn’t take much to try to put two and two together. 

“So..are you okay?” 

You weren’t expecting that to be the first thing he asked you. Jack, the sweet man that you and Jeff both befriended not long after coming to Buffalo. The man that was there for Jeff after the breakup, who let him crash on his couch more than enough times. The one who would still like and comment on all of your posts, especially when you got a massive promotion. He was sitting there like nothing ever changed, like you hadn’t forced all of them to choose Jeff. 

“I um-” You shook your head slightly, “I don’t think so. Not this time.”

He reached his hand across the table and gently grabbed yours, “I’ll be here, if you need a friend.”

“You’re not even going to ask?” I questioned, “You don’t care who’s it is?”

“I didn’t think I had to ask. He was pretty forthcoming with the details of those weeks.”

“I didn’t- I hurt him again. Again and again and again, that’s all I do.”

Jack shrugged, “You two are fire and ice, but somehow I don’t think either of you mind in the moment. It’s when you leave each other again that the pain sets in.”

You shook your head, “We broke it all off for a reason. Seems like the universe didn’t care. I missed a couple of pills, and now…”

“It happens.”

“Not to me, it doesn’t. But...here I am anyway.”

“And you haven’t told him yet?” His tone was cautious, he didn’t want to overstep. 

“You would’ve known if I had. Just not sure how to…”

He smiled softly and squeezed your hand, “It’s Jeff, he’ll be alright.”

And so that night you found yourself outside of Jeff’s apartment. You bounced on your feet and tried to gather enough courage to knock on his door. Your stomach twisted, you weren’t sure if it was because of the morning sickness that took hold of you all hours of the day, or if it was your own fear.

You were sure you looked awful. You’d spent the last couple of hours throwing up. It seemed the thing inside you didn’t appreciate the lunch you’d eaten with Jack. Although, there was little that that tiny little blip did like. 

You raised your hand and gently knocked on the door. So gently, you wondered if he even heard it. But then you could hear the scuffle from the otherside of the door, maybe even some laughing. 

His face was flushed, a careless smile was spread across his face. His shirt was half unbuttoned and you could smell the cheap perfume, it was enough to make you want to vomit all over again. 

“Y/N,” He looked as if he’d been hit. 

“Hey come back, I’m lonely,” The female voice called from somewhere inside. 

You were stunned. You felt cornered. I could feel myself backing away, trying to make a quick escape but my body wouldn’t let me. As much as I wanted to run, my legs were stuck.

“I’m sorry...I-” You couldn’t finish before the smell of that perfume became too much. You turned and ran as fast as you could, until you were outside and the cold crisp air hit you. But even then, you found yourself hunched over the nearest trashcan as the heaving began. You wanted all of this to just be over already. The sickness and the feeling like the world was going to cave in on you. You wanted to feel happy like so many other moms. But you were scared. Only scared. 

“Y/N?” 

Next thing you knew, you could feel someone pulling your hair back out of your face. The wind stinging as it hit the warm tears that were falling. You hated getting sick. But you hated whatever was going on upstairs even more. 

He still smelled like her, of course he would. You knew Jeff, he likely just bolted after you as soon as you ran, leaving her alone. Once you composed yourself enough you tried to put enough distance between you two. Knowing if you got closer it would all just start again. 

“Just...stay there.”

“What’s going on? Are you okay?” He was panicked.

“You should-” You took another deep breath of the cold air to try and clear your lungs, “You should go back. You’re busy.”

“Fuck that,” He snapped, “What’s going on with you? You show up and then just bolt?”

“Seriously, unless you want me to start throwing up again...you should go back inside.”

“What the hell Y/N?”

“It’s the perfume, okay. I can’t- the smell makes me sick.”

He laughed almost coldly. You hadn’t seen this side of him since the night you broke things off. He was angry, he had every right to be. 

“Then maybe you should have called before you just showed up here for nothing,” His tone made you take a step back, “Obviously I was preoccupied. So I think I will go back upstairs.”

“I’m-” Your voice was so small as he turned and took a few steps, “Jeffy.”

He turned at the sound of your voice breaking, “Jeff...I’m pregnant.”

He went quiet and unmoving. Your hands were clenched at your side, not anywhere near your stomach, where the ghost of a bump was starting to form. Yet, his eyes drifted there anyway. You wished you knew what he was thinking. You almost wanted to laugh at how cruel all of this seemed. You and Jeff would’ve been happily married by now, living in the house with the white fence, and this wouldn’t have been such a shock. 

“I should-” He took a deep breath, still looking at your stomach, “I should go tell her to leave.”

“Jeff.”

“You can wait outside the door if you want,” He said, “I’ll change too.”

“Jeff.”

“Isn’t that way you came then?” He asked, turning back towards you, “To talk about this? To talk options.”

“I thought-you aren’t mad?”

“Jesus. No. We weren’t exactly the most sensible during those months. Not that I expected this, or wanted this for you. But...how are you?”

You weren’t sure how to answer. Too much was going on inside your head. You had no idea how you were, “I don’t know. I’m...I’m pregnant. I don’t know.” 

“How?” He took a deep breath, “How far along?”

“Far enough,” You stated. 

You could see him trying to do the math. He’d always been attentive. When you were still together he knew when to expect your period, and knew when you were late. You often wondered if he didn’t have it marked in his calendar so he’d know what to expect from you.

“Sometime either right before or not long after I left,” You answered the question you knew he was silently asking. 

“Give me five minutes, you can wait in the lobby if you want.”

“No, it’s okay...We can talk tomorrow,” You said, a weird sense of guilt washing over you. 

His face changed, something seemed to shift within him, “I turned you out into the cold once, Y/N,” He stated sadly, “I refused to listen. I won’t make that mistake again. So...please.”

You nodded slowly, knowing this was something the both of you needed to do tonight. Before either of you lost courage, or somehow decided this wasn’t a good idea at all. So you slowly followed him back inside, letting the warmth of the building overtake you. But rather than waiting in the lobby, you opted for the small sitting area at the other end of his floor, far enough away from his door that his friend wouldn’t see you. It seemed odd to you that you felt a pang of jealousy in your chest, he wasn’t yours anymore. 

Having his child didn’t change anything. You weren’t together. Even after all of the years you spent sleeping next to him, you had no claim to him anymore. Not after you walked out on him again. 

“You’re still here,” Jeff said a few minutes later, seemingly stunned by the fact you were right where he left you. 

“I told you I wouldn’t go anywhere,” You whispered, “But I guess I don’t blame you. I’m not always the best at keeping promises.”

He let out a small laugh, like it was meant to cover up the pain you knew you caused him, “I put a kettle on. You can still have tea, right?”

“I don’t think it’ll kill me.”

The apartment smelled clean, like he’d opened windows to air it back out. The pillows on the couch, which you were sure had been thrown, were back where they belonged. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he’d just come home from a road trip and the apartment was cleaned while he was away.

“How are you, really?” He asked you. 

You sighed and started to play with your fingers, “Sick all of the time, and achy. I get these horrible headaches too, sometimes they’re so bad it’s hard to move,” You explained to him, “And I’m tired. God, I’m always so tired. Little thing is zapping everything out of me I guess.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” You could hear the guilt in his voice without even looking up, “I know this isn’t what you wanted. I’m sorry.”

You tried not to think back to the night your engagement ended. How different this conversation was to the one had that night. It seemed almost funny to you how different both of you had become since then. Both of you grew, but you had to grow apart in some ways. 

“You’re right….I didn’t want this,” You said softly, almost a whisper, “I never saw myself with kids. And to be honest I’m still not sure that I do see myself with them. But this is happening Jeff. And I haven’t really let myself think about it, but...I think I could want this.”

You tried to force down the wave of feelings that was building, “I never wanted the picket fence and swingsets and stepping on Legos all the time...and there’s still a big part of me that’s terrified of what’s coming. But then there are other days, when I’m in bed alone at night, or during the day when it’s quiet, that I just feel… I don’t know really. But I can see the picket fence, and the dirty diapers, and the little mighty mite hockey games down the road. And I think I’m excited, and happy. But I don’t know how to be, because I hurt you when I said I’d never want this, and now I-”

“Shh,” He pulled you into his chest, holding you as tightly as he dared to, “This is happening, it doesn’t matter anymore. If you want the picket fence then we’ll figure out a way to get that life back. But you won’t be doing any of it alone.”

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to do anything Jeff,” You admitted, “I don’t want you to feel like I’ve trapped you.”

He nearly laughed and gently grabbed your hands, “Funny, last year you were saying I was the one trapping you.”

“Jeffy-”

“Believe it or not, I’ve been hoping you’d come back since the second you left. This is just a little extra,” He shrugged like it was no big deal, “We’re in this together now. Now drink your tea, you look like you need it.”

“You bought more of this?” You said after taking a sip of the tea that you’d been drinking for years. 

His back was to you as he fixed a cup for himself, “Like I said, I kept hoping you’d come back.”

Your chest hurt. He didn’t seem to miss you all that much, but you knew he wouldn’t lie about something like that. One thing about Jeff was the fact that he had his heart on his sleeve, always had. From the moment you met him during his rookie year, you knew that. You tried not to let tears burst forward. Now was not the time for that. 

“I’m-” You swallowed the large lump in your throat, a hand wandered down to your stomach, “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“You look like you’re about ready to drop,” He stated, “You’re free to steal some of my clothes and make yourself at home. I don’t want to send you back out into this snow, it’ll only get worse.” 

You nodded slowly and made your way to his room once you finished your tea. Not much had changed in the short time since you’d last been in here, other than the fact that he’d replaced the bedspread like you suggested to him. 

For a second you allowed yourself to close your eyes and see the life he could obviously see so clearly. For as long as you could remember, your future never looked clear to you. You couldn’t see things the way he could, you only saw yourself as you were in that moment. 

Yet, you could almost see the two of you cuddling a small baby. You could see him teaching them how to skate when they were old enough. Maybe in a couple of years, you could have another. He always wanted more than one, you knew that. 

You pulled out a pair of sweatpants from one of his drawers, you knew normally they’d be too big, but you were already starting to put on some extra weight. You pulled your sweater over your head, catching sight of your reflection on the mirror that hung on the back of his closet door. 

You didn’t look pregnant, and aside from being unbelievably sick half of the time, you didn’t feel pregnant. Yet, even still, there was the smallest swell of your stomach, to anyone else it would just look like you were bloated. Had too much bread, or ate too much and had a food baby. But you knew...you knew. 

You stepped closer to the mirror, dropping your sweater on the bed. You hadn’t really allowed yourself to really think about any of it. You blocked out most of your doctor’s appointment, all you had to know was that the baby was healthy. The rest just sort of got blurred out.

So you stood, sideways so you could really get a look. You knew it would get bigger in the coming weeks. You wouldn’t be able to hide it anymore, everyone at work would know. You’d have to call and tell your family for sure, and Jeff….he would have to tell his family too. 

You were going to have his baby. For better or worse, you two would be parents. 

“Do you want any-” Jeff fell silent at the sight of you gently holding your stomach. 

You didn’t move, as if you didn’t even hear him. He leaned against the doorframe and watched you. Your eyes were glued to your reflection, so deep in thought you had no idea of your surroundings. He knew you didn’t want kids, but he also knew you’d be an amazing mom. He’d known that for years, he remembered watching you with his teammate’s babies over the years, and just how wonderful you were with them. He never would’ve forced you to have a family, but he couldn’t wait to see you with this child. 

He knew you were scared, hell he was terrified. He didn’t know how to be a dad, he didn’t know the first thing about pregnancy, or what the two of you were going to be once this was all over. But he knew he was excited to be a dad. He might not have been ready, and this wasn’t how he planned it all to be, but he was ready.

He took a step towards you when he noticed your shoulders started shaking as you fought off tears. He wouldn’t pretend to know what was going on inside your head, but he knew that you needed him. Even if you wouldn’t admit it, you needed him. 

“I’ve got you,” He pulled you into his chest, not even skipping a beat. 

“I’m pregnant,” You finally felt the full force of the situation hitting you. 

You were going to be a mom. This wasn’t something you could avoid, you were having a baby. You were responsible for a human life. Your body shook against his as you cried. You couldn’t figure out if you were happy now or not. As much as you never wanted a child, you did want this. You wanted the picket fence life with Jeff. You wanted this baby that was growing within you. The little blob on the pictures. The blob that was changing your life already. 

“Jeffy, we’re having a baby,” You sobbed.

He held you, not quite knowing if he needed to try to calm you down, or cry with you. He carefully pushed you back towards the bed and pulled you into his lap. Without even realizing it, you grabbed his hand and put it on your stomach. His touch was calming to you, always had been. 

He was one of the only people who could calm you down during the worst storms...this was another storm. Just a different kind of storm.

Two weeks later, you were splitting your time between your apartment and Jeff’s. He wanted to spend as much time with you as he could. There were very distinct lines that had been drawn, and the two of you tried desperately not to cross them. For the sake of your baby, you tried not to toe them, tried not to be anything but friends with him. But you wanted to be close to him all of the time. 

Keeping distance when his teammates were around though, was hard. Jack knew, not only because you told him, but because Jeff did as well. As for your families, you didn’t yet know how you were supposed to do that. You weren’t sure how either of your families were going to react to the news. But you’d worry about that later.

Because right now you and Jeff were curled up in his bed, his hand resting on your belly, which was slowly getting bigger. You were almost to the point where you couldn’t hide it anymore. Your larger sweaters were almost too small. The thought almost excited you, you felt like you were ready to show off. 

Jeff was fast asleep next to you, but didn’t dare to let go of you. This was how it was when you stayed with him. You couldn’t deny that you felt safer in his arms, you always had. You slept better too.

It was a sharp pain that ripped you from your peaceful sleep. You let out a cry as it ripped through you again. Jeff was sitting up in an instant, reaching over to turn on the lamp on the nightstand. You nearly screamed when you moved the blankets away and saw red. No sound would come out though, only tears as you couldn’t take your eyes off from it. 

Jeff was moving as soon as he saw it. He tugged on a shirt and grabbed an extra pair of pants for you, the thickest pair of sweatpants that he owned, and a sweatshirt. You barely moved as he carefully put them both onto you, all you could do was hold your stomach. 

“It’s too much,” You mumbled, almost in a trance, “Jeff there’s...it’s too much blood.”

“Shh,” He tried to quell your fears, and tried to force down his own, “We’re going to get you to the hospital okay? It’s going to be fine.”

But how could it be when you could practically feel that perfect life slipping away from you. Bit by bit, you could see it all falling away. You said nothing as he drove you to the nearest hospital. You only cried and winced with each new bit of pain. You knew what this meant...you knew it was over.

Jeff tried to reach over for your hand, if only to try to comfort you and make sure that you knew you weren’t alone. But you shied away from him. He would blame you for this. You didn’t want the baby in the first place, surely this was your fault somehow. 

You felt almost numb.

You fell asleep shortly after the doctors finished running tests. They were able to stop the bleeding, but didn’t yet know what your condition was. All you could do was sleep. Jeff was pacing in the halls, having been asked to wait until the doctors were done with you. He’d been promised a nurse would come for him, but he just wanted to be by your side. He promised you wouldn’t be in this alone, and he felt like he was abandoning you. 

He wanted to call his parents and beg for help, but they didn’t know. Most of the team didn’t know. Neither did your family. The two of you were alone in this for now. He was alone in this...and you were alone. For as long as they kept him away. 

“Mr. Skinner?”

Jeff’s movements stopped as he saw the doctor coming towards him. His breath halted, he knew just as well as you did what the outcome was going to be. Even he knew that was too much blood no matter the stage you were in. You were past the point where spotting was normal, and that was far from spotting. 

He tried to brace himself, he tried to come to peace with it. Even if it was only so that he could be strong for you. He knew you were excited, you wanted to take daily pictures of your growing bump so that you could show them off when the time came. You’d been so excited to find out what you were having at your next appointment, and made Jeff swear he’d be there. As if he would miss that appointment for the world. He caught you looking at nursery ideas on Pinterest. He knew you were ready for this now. And just as you’d come to terms with it, and allowed yourself to be excited about the baby, it was taken from you. 

“We stopped the bleeding, we’re still working to find the cause of it. But we’d like to keep them here at least overnight, so that we’ll be able to monitor both mom and baby,” The doctor explained. 

Jeff’s knees threatened to give out, “Both of them?” He tried not to hope. God did he try, but all he could do was think that maybe it wasn’t all gone. 

“The baby is fine, Mr. Skinner, as is Miss Y/L/N. We have her on fluids and we’ve given her some blood, but we’ll continue to run tests to find the cause,” The doctor paused when they truly saw the look on Jeff’s face and gently put a hand on his shoulder, “Your baby is just fine. Trying to kick up a storm by the looks of the last ultrasound.”

“They’re both okay?” Tears finally fell from Jeff’s eyes. He wasn’t able to hold them back any longer. He tried to prepare himself for the heartbreak that he thought was going to come, but he never considered that he might find relief by the end of the night, “They’re okay?”

The doctor smiled softly and nodded, “I’ll take you to her room. She’s asleep, but I’m sure you’d like to be there when she wakes up.”

Jeff sat by your side for hours, constantly looking over to the fetal heart monitor. Sometimes his hand would rest over your stomach, he couldn’t feel the baby but he knew it was there. That was enough for him. You began to stir quite a few hours later. Jeff was exhausted, but knew he needed to be awake when you finally came around. 

He sat straight up and held onto your hand tightly. You started silently crying almost instantly, thinking the worst had come to pass. 

“I’m sorry,” Your voice, though not above a whisper, broke. 

“Shh, you’re okay,” He kissed your hand, “Love, you’re both okay.”

At that exact moment, one of the doctors came in, rolling a large screen attached to a machine in with her. Your confusion didn’t go away as you addressed the room. You were hooked up to double the monitors, but that shouldn’t be the case. 

“Alright, time to check on how you’re both doing,” The doctor announced, “And, this time you’ll both get to see your baby.”

“I don’t understand I-” 

Jeff kissed your hand again, eyes brimmed with tears, “You’re both okay, Y/N. The baby is okay.”

You were released three days later. The second you got back into Jeff’s apartment you went to the couch. You’d been placed on bedrest, for the sake of you and your baby. You weren’t thrilled about it. It meant you had to be relieved from work for the time being, and you wouldn’t be able to go to any games or really go anywhere at all. But your baby was fine, healthy even. 

“She’s a fighter, like her mom,” Jeff said, catching you looking down at your belly. 

“She scared the living hell out of us,” You replied, “Listen here little miss, don’t do that again for a long time. You need to be gentle with me, I’m new to this.”

Jeff laughed softly and put down your bags before joining you on the couch. He wrapped his arms around you, allowing you to rest your head on his shoulder. The world seemed so different to both of you now. The three days spent in the hospital, you both realized the lines you’d drawn no longer mattered. There was you and him and the baby. Your little family.

“I still want to marry you,” He stated. 

“And I still want to be married to you,” You replied, “Just...after she comes.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Jeff warned.

He put a hand on your stomach just in time to feel a tiny little kick. She wasn’t kicking with much force yet, but she was kicking. Jeff still couldn’t believe he was having a daughter. He declared that it was the only good thing to come out of the trip to the hospital. He got to see his baby for the first time, all ten fingers and toes. Got to see her little face, and point out the fact that she already looked so much like you. He didn’t know he could love something so much, without even having met her yet. But she was his, and she was yours. A perfect combination of the two of you, even if she wasn’t planned. She was still loved.

The coming days and weeks blurred together. You weren’t able to go anywhere. You did a lot of online shopping so you’d be able to put together a little nursery. Jeff had a spare bedroom that you’d use. Both of you decided not long after your trip to the hospital that you should stay there. Besides, home was always where Jeff was. Your little apartment was just a place you ran to, because you didn’t feel like you had a home anymore. You had more than a home now though. 

Jason came by a lot. He was finally able to meet Jeff, making Jeff realize Jason was really like a brother to you these days. Jason stayed a lot when Jeff was gone for games. He kept you company and called you at least everyday. He helped out a lot more than you ever expected him to. But he made you promise you’d grant him the title of Uncle Jase when the time came.

The news of the baby took both of your families by surprise. They didn’t know you two were still close. It nearly made you laugh when your parents went silent before your mom started screaming. Jeff’s family was a little more laid back, but even you could tell they were holding back. The sight of you and Jeff holding onto one another while showing them the pictures from the ultrasounds was too much for both sets of parents. Because the two of you were finally getting your happy ending. 

“What about Caroline?” Jeff questioned as the two of you sat trying to figure out a name. 

“Caroline? I thought you wanted a family name?” 

“I think that name is more important.”

“How so?” Confusion took over you. 

“For Carolina. We wouldn’t have met if I hadn’t been drafted by the Canes,” He clarified, “Or if you hadn’t gone to NC State.”

“Technically we met because you, Mr. Hotshot Rookie, showed up to the State Hockey House,” You laughed, “I was half drunk, but there you were with rosey cheeks and goofy smile.”

He laughed, “We played beer pong together, right?”

“You lost the game, and I threw up in the bushes.”

His laugh was loud as he recalled those events, “Ah college and the early years.”

You smiled and kissed his neck. Your little girl was kicking up a storm under Jeff’s hand. Her little movements followed wherever he moved, either with a foot or a hand. He’d play the game with her for hours, until she seemed to fall asleep. He’d poke where a foot was and she’d kick back. You already learned she seemed to like hockey, as she became more active when you watched it. Or maybe it was because you got more excited. 

Jeff would come home and give you both details about the game, his head was always by your belly so she could hear him better. Nights like that made you want to cry. There was a whole new world that the two of you were about to enter into and you couldn’t wait. You wanted to be able to hold the little girl you’d once been so afraid of. 

“She’s kicking a lot tonight,” Jeff whispered. 

“She likes it when you’re here. A daddy’s girl already,” You told him. 

“She’s already taken my heart, just like her mama,” He replied, “I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Twirly Bird.”

Your daughter was born shortly after that night. A few weeks early, but she decided she just didn’t want to wait anymore. You and Jeff loved her from the moment her cries broke through the room. You named her Caroline afterall, agreeing that it was the perfect name. You and Jeff were married not long after. The wedding was small, nothing big. A year after Caroline was born, the three of you moved into a spacious house, big enough for more children. 

It didn’t take you long to realize you wanted more. You didn’t want it to just be Caroline. There was a large yard, big enough for a swingset and plenty of room for her to play when she was old enough. Her little feet padded on the hardwood floors all the time, constantly chasing after the dogs. 

But the best thing about the house, besides the fact that it was where your family was going to grow? The fact that you finally had a white picket fence with Jeff. After all of the bumps in the road, and the number of times you walked out on each other. You finally had the life that you never thought you wanted. But it turned out to be the life you didn’t know you needed.

#Jeff skinner #Jeff skinner imagine #Jeff skinner imagines #Jeff skinner fanfic #Jeff skinner fanfiction #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey imagine #hockey fanfic #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #buffalo sabres #sabers imagine #sabers imagines

[youknow-igetit]

i’ve always had the headcanon that neil learns how to pole dance and dan helps teach him and i saw someone else post something similar to it (iconic of them, really) and it made me want to elaborate on my hc

some days, neil wakes up and he can’t stand looking in the mirror

he look in the mirror and despite the scars on his face and hands and the vibrant orange hoodie and the chipped nail polish on his hands, all he sees is his father’s eyes and hair and cold smile

so he usually finds himself at the gym building, blasting music in his ears and facing away from the wall of mirrors as he purposefully overworks himself so he’s too exhausted to care about the cold smile that he knows well

either that or he’s in the basement, hitting a punching bag with taped knuckles and pretending that the canvas is his father’s face, lola’s, romero’s, sometimes even his mother’s

one morning he wakes up at four with the phantom pains of hundreds of knives wracking his body

he can’t go back to sleep, so he heads to the gym and picks the lock to the basement

he’s so caught up in his own head that he walks right past the room full of punching bags and opens the door next to it

despite it being in the basement, the room has the same high ceilings as the upper floors, maybe twenty or twenty five feet

there’s no equipment that neil can see in the dark room, nothing except for the mats covering the floor and four vertical poles bolted to the floor and ceiling

he’s confused at first but then... oh

he’d obviously heard of pole dancing as a sport, he remembered seeing the words on the gym directory

but actually seeing the poles, he was kind of intrigued

but he backed out and went into the right room and ran himself down, and despite heaving on the floor, he felt like he could finally breathe

he was exhausted by the time the exy team started trickling into the main gym to do their workouts, but he honestly didn’t care about the stern talking-to kevin was attempting to administer

over the next week, inexplicably, neil’s mind kept going back to the room with the poles. he found himself watching pole dancing competition videos and tutorials and reading articles on different products that help to stay on the pole

on another one of Those Days, he finds himself purposefully breezing right past the boxing room and opening the door to the pole dancing room

he turns on the light, which is still dim, and walks nervously up to the pole in the far right corner

he’s bad at first. not as bad as he thought he’d be, but still bad. youtube isnt exactly the best coach

but he comes back the next day. and the next. and it eventually becomes a regular thing as he becomes better at it. sometimes, when his school workload isn’t heavy, he spends his free periods between classes practicing.

he never sees anyone else there, no matter what time, and he likes it that way. he gets more confident in himself, eventually ending up stripping down to just his briefs as he learns new moves

he doesn’t tell anyone about it. it’s not that he’s ashamed, but the idea of the ex-mafia kid exy player spending his free time pole dancing? it was a little embarrassing

like andrew knows in general where he is at those times but he doesn’t know/care what neil’s doing there. he guesses its just more things to do with exy

and kevin is suspicious but when is he not

but all in all no one finds out

until

one day it’s like three pm and he had the most annoying argument with the TA and he’s still pissed as he descends the stairs to the basement of the gym, just wanting to dance and blow off some steam

he bursts through the door and stops abruptly as the person whirls around

“dan?”

“neil?”

they both kind of just stand there for a moment before neil’s like “sorry, i was--uh, the boxing room is right next to this one and--”

“you were planning on boxing?”

“uh huh”

“in skinny jeans?” dan raised an unimpressed eyebrow

neil glanced down. he was wearing skinny jeans. “um.”

neil shifts nervously. “what are you doing here? nobody ever goes in here.”

“I was just--” dan pauses. “wait, this is where you’re going when you disappear?”

neil rubs the back of his neck. “kinda, yeah”

“kinda or definitely”

so neil tells her everything, about how he’s been going there for months and teaching himself how to dance and whatnot

dan is highkey impressed and asks him if he wants her to teach him anything

“what?”

“I used to be a stripper, neil.”

“oh. right.”

“no, you’re okay. it’s just... i kind of missed it. not the stripper part, but during the day, when the club was closed and my sisters were teaching me. it didn’t feel like it was for anyone. it was for me....it was liberating.”

neil nods. “i get that”

so dan ends up joining in on his practices more often than not

at first neil’s kinda uncomfortable being so physically exposed around someone that wasn’t andrew

but he finds a weird comfort with dan, both of them in just their undergarments swinging around on poles in a big empty room with music playing out of one of their phones

dan ends up teaching neil a bunch of moves she knows, like how to bend over upside-down and spin with just thighs

“and if you twist like this, it shows off your ass”

they also end up talking a lot, about random things, but dan also tells him a lot about her stage sisters and what her high school life was like and in turn neil ends up talking a bit about his life on the run

they also end up talking a lot about their relationships, like how dan learns that andrew likes to snuggle (dan is astounded) and neil learns that matt sleeps with his socks on (neil is apalled)

some of the foxes notice that dan has joined in with neil’s disappearances and she tells them that she’s teaching him “how to be a captain for you assholes. it’s hard fucking work, i’m giving him seminars about you little shits”

but one day matt comes up to neil during practice and he’s like “hey neil can i talk to you”

and neil’s like “you’re talking to me now”

“no i mean like later”

neil’s like ?? but he agrees

after practice everyone leaves the locker room except for matt

he nervously sits down on the bench so once neil’s done he hesitantly sits next to him

“what’s up?”

matt’s acting shifty and weird and isn’t look at neil’s face

“so um, i need you to be honest with me, okay? and i know you wouldn’t do this, but i’ve been having doubts and i just--” matt sighs. “is dan cheating on me with you?”

neil is... absolutely pissed

“what the fuck?!”

“i mean, like, you guys have been disappearing off on your own and then you come back sweaty and flushed--”

“we work out together”

“but she’s always smiling and content after!”

“i literally have a partner”

“that doesn’t stop a lot of people, neil”

“don’t you remember that i don’t swing? dan’s like my sister, matt” neil is surprised when he says it and finds that he’s being truthful. “dan loves you. she’d never hurt you like that. stop selling yourself short.”

matt nods and neil leaves

the next time dan and neil practice together, the next day, dan asks him about matt and neil tells her everything

“i think he’s just paranoid that you’re leaving at the end of the year” neil spins around and hooks his ankles around the pole

“yeah... i’ll talk to him” dan sighs and wraps an arm around the pole and hoists herself up a few inches

“if you’re fine with it, he can come to our next practice”

“you’re sure?” a few weeks ago, neil had told dan how insecure he was about his scars and they both enjoyed the privacy they had at the practice room

“yeah. it’s just matt”

they twirl around for a while, soft music playing from dan’s phone, the artist singing something about being sorry that she fell in love with someone while they were in a hotel room

“what about your boy?” dan asks

“what about him?”

“does he ever doubt you?”

neil shrugs, as well as he can while upside down “we trust each other”

dan thinks for a minute. “are you going to show andrew too?” dan motions to the room with her foot. “i’m fine with it if you are”

so later that day, back at the dorm, neil turns in his bean bag and asks andrew if he wants to come to his and dan’s next practice

andrew replies with a “not particularly”

“don’t you want to see what we do?”

“not really. you don’t ask me to watch renee and i spar.”

“yeah but that’s cause it your guys’ thing. also, dan and i definitely don’t spar”

“it’s still your thing.”

“i wouldn’t ask you to come if i didn’t want you to”

andrew looked at him before saying “you’re insufferable.” neil knew that meant he’d be there

so the next day finds dan and neil leading matt and andrew down their familiar basement path

andrew shows no reaction to the poles except for a quirk in his left eyebrow (neil knows he’s very surprised)

matt, on the other hand, says “this is what you guys have been doing?”

neil nods and takes his shirt and pants off, which leads to another shocked sound out of matt and another raised eyebrow from andrew. (that’s both raised eyebrows. neil’s never done that. he takes it as an achievement. andrew’s eyes tell him not to read too much into it. neil smirks)

andrew leans up against one of the untouched poles as neil talks to matt about liquid chalk as dan takes her own clothes off

matt sits down on the edge of a mat as they start practicing. after a few minutes neil almost forgets that there are two more people in the room than usual, the only giveaway being andrew’s sharp eyes never leaving him and matt’s amazed “ooh”s and “ahh”s

after the alarm on dan’s phone beeped to tell them that their hour and a half were up, matt stood up as the two stepped away from their poles

neil started pulling on his clothes as matt went “I--um--that’s--that was--”

neil picks up his bag and starts walking toward the door, knowing that andrew’s following

“don’t fuck near my pole” he calls, and he can hear dan laugh as he shuts the door

andrew is silent all the way to the dorm

later on the roof, he asks “why?”

neil sighs. “it makes my mind quiet. suspended like that, fifteen feet in the air, the only thing that’s keeping me from falling is me. it’s not like exy, where I have to rely on my teammates. It’s... it’s finding trust in my body.” he looks down at him scarred hands, at the one interlaced with andrew’s. “also my father would never pole dance. neither would my mom. god, she’d be so pissed.”

neil smiles

“what do you think about it?” neil asked as andrew took another drag on his cigarette

“it doesn’t matter what i think”

“it matters to me.”

“I hate you.”

“mmhm. don’t i know it.”

they were quiet as they watched the sun slowly dip over the horizon

“you’re more flexible than i thought”

“what’s that supposed to mean”

“it means i liked it. you are as confident at pole dancing as you are at playing exy.”

“are you telling me that you like when i play exy?”

“shut up. yes or no?” he flicks aside his cigarette at neil’s yes

a few days later, matt apologizes to neil for his assumptions. he ends up convincing neil and dan into entering a pole dancing competition that takes place a few weeks after the championship game

they end up winning third place

(the competition was recorded and put on youtube. neil’s proud. he catches andrew watching the video more than once)

(when kevin finds out about it he practically combusts and tells neil how bad it is for his exy career and what will pro teams think blah blah blah neil doesn’t care)

after dan graduates, neil and her keep up their practices through facetime

the next year they’re able to win first place

#can you tell that i'm fascinated by pole dancing?? #neil josten #dan wilds #matt boyd #andrew minyard #andreil #matt boyd x dan wilds #aftg #aftg hc #andreil hc #all for the game headcanon #pole dancing is so cool i want to know how to do it so badly #why do i have to live in a town of bigots?? #i just think its neat #Also the song I mentioned is 'is there somewhere' by halsey if anyone is interested in knowing #I love Matt but I also think that he's still insecure about being with an actual goddess #This has nothing to do with the post but I hc that Dan proposes to Matt

[alexawynters]

TW

Venting. Don’t take this too seriously it’s fine I’m fine.

So my recent ex gf of 8 months (I count the time we were fucking around as well as dating bc let’s not lie I caught feels early because I’m pathetic) who broke up with me a little over two months ago is now hooking up with one of my closest friends.

Its cool. I still cry myself to sleep, have nightmares, and wake up crying throughout the night but it’s fine. I spend more time drunk than sober (I had been doing so well! It was two years since I was last an alcoholic) and replaying every red flag, every moment where I thought to myself “you know, I don’t think she really likes me, you don’t treat the people you like this way right?” And then my dumb desperate ass was like “no we’re going to overlook this because surely she would tell me right? Besides I’m asking for too much, I should just be grateful she even expressed any interest at all. Stop being needy. Stop asking for anything other than what she is giving you because you’re lucky she’s even with you, what’s wrong with you?

Like. The first two months we were together? I called my besties every other week crying because I felt like a human sex toy. She didn’t even seem to want to do relationship things. I didn’t understand why she even asked me out, I had told her before we got together if all she wanted to be was fwb that was okay. But she asked me out so I was like okay cool. You want to date me. As in be in a relationship. I’m excited for this. Let’s do relationship things. We didn’t often do relationship things. We did sexual ones instead.

Then after two months suddenly the sex all but stopped. I thought to myself okay cool every relationship hits a plateau, and levels out. This is normal. Little did I know that was the slow death of us. The. I was calling my besties every other week again, still crying, begging to know what I was doing wrong. Why wasn’t I good enough? Why didn’t she seem interested but was still with me? What was I doing wrong? What was I not doing enough of, or too much of, or just not doing right? What was wrong with me that I couldn’t seem to interest her beyond the bare bones minimum?

I found myself begging for her to spend time with me. I lived with roommates who were our friends, and it always felt like she wanted to spend more time with them than me. I had to ask her if we could have some “just us” nights which, rarely were ever actually just us unless we went out. There were times she would literally, every five minutes look out the window to see when my roommates were home, and I was like ???? Do you not want to spend time with me? She would go to the kitchen to get something and be gone for twenty minutes to an hour at a time, having gotten distracted and hanging out with them. Which isn’t inherently bad to be clear but it happened so often and I wondered. I never forgot about her when I was leaving the room and got stopped for a conversation. If I knew I was going to be long I would text her to invite her or let her know.

I had even told her if she wants to just hang out with them, she could. I genuinely wouldn’t have minded that. Have fun with your friends, you should. I could hang out in my room and be me (I’m incredibly introverted, autistic, and have anxiety, and the living situation had me ~*stressed*~ out) but she didn’t want to do that.

If we were out on a date, she was almost always texting, or snap chatting somebody else. I always tried to make it a point to focus on us when we were in dates, but it never felt reciprocated. I brought it up and then felt like an asshole for already asking for just us time, and now to please not be on your phone when we’re on a date. She looked so sad, like I had scolded her. I would replay it over and over in my head - I tried to be gentle and polite, not accusing or angry. I checked my words carefully and ran them by multiple people to try to be as non aggressive and non accusatory as I could before I ever spoke them to her. Clearly I didn’t succeed.

She has OCD (nothing against it and I usually found it endearing) and would sometimes go into a loop. I always tried to help her but usually just ended up frustrating her. She snapped at me on occasions including in front of my friends and didn’t often apologize for it. Something my friends brought up after she did it in front of them, and I made excuses for it. She was stressed out, I would be too, stop being so hard on her.

She never planned anything with me, I always had to do it. I brushed it off as her having anxiety and not liking planning, but when she asked me “oh we’re still doing that?” for the trip for my nieces wedding in which I was taking her to meet my (extremely judgey) family, the trip that I had been updating her on weekly about the plans trying to get any input from her on, the trip that I had to pull in favors for and grovel to get the time off to go to? I should have said never mind and cancelled it.

She didn’t even help plan my birthday. My best friends did, and showed me the texts where they were getting frustrated with her lack of input on it because she’s my girlfriend and surely she would want to participate in that? Want to help surprise me? It was my first surprise party ever. I told her thank you and she acted like she had absolutely had a hand in planning. Meanwhile my friends all got together while she and I were gone to vent about how pisses they were at her for her lack of effort.

I have some childhood trauma and I don’t like to be touched sexually. I’ll touch my partner and even enjoy it but I don’t like being touched. It triggers me. But she said no less than three times to different people “yeah I’ve still never gone down on a girl or anything” which made me feel like I wasn’t being a good enough girlfriend. So I got sex therapy. I worked through it as best I could. Not for me. I didn’t want to be touched that way but I wanted my girlfriend to be happy. I wanted to do right by her and give her everything she wanted or needed in a relationship. Right about this time is where the sex stopped. She also stopped flirting or doing things she used to do before we started/right as we started dating that were clear indicators that she liked me. (I am an oblivious idiot)

I started to get worried. Why was I working this hard if she didn’t actually want to touch me? I was happy not being touched, but now I was starting to think something was wrong. I was starting to feel like she didn’t even want me. I started asking for sex as reassurance that she was still interested. Still attracted.

She called me a horn dog.

Not just to me but also later to my best friend. I was so mortified I wanted to jump out of the window and run into traffic. *I* was a horndog? All I wanted was affection and reassurance. She said her love language was physical affection and so was mine but she rarely gave me the cuddles I needed. I would ask her for “pets” - where she would play with my hair or just run her hand up and down my arm. This for me is intimacy. I had no problems doing it for her ever but she would get annoyed when I asked, saying it was hard for her to focus on the tv.

Okay? So? I’m not asking much, I didn’t think. I stopped paying attention to the tv when I was petting her. I made her my whole focus so she would feel loved. I mean unless it was like Harry Potter but I would be mindful to alternate so she wouldn’t be left out.

She only introduced me to one of her friends (who I thought was pretty cool but I worry she hates me so I just don’t talk to her now). At first I thought this was because she was in the closet. To be clear I never had a problem with that. I would never push someone to come out before they were ready and I hate movies and media that have the partner doing that. It’s shitty and dangerous. If she felt safer in the closet more power to her. I actively went to bat for protecting that secret for her. Sometimes our friends would forget and tag her in shit that would out her. I would be in their texts and calling them immediately explaining the situation and asking them to untag or take the post down. I’m not saying that as any sort of bragging. That’s literally the least I could do. I’m saying it to illustrate that I don’t have a problem with her being in the closet. But then she told me her friends knew about us. So I was like okay cool you’ve met all of my friends and are part of the group. I’d like to meet your friends. “Um.. they’re just really busy”. I mean. Yeah so are my friends and I didn’t mean like right now I just meant maybe mention it to them and we can some time schedule a hang out. “They’re just really busy”. Red flag but okay. Gonna just. Overlook this one too. It’s fine.

I spent more nights when she visited waiting for her to fall asleep so I could cry myself to sleep over how worthless I felt. Why was I doing this? Everything hurt but maybe I was just asking too much. Had my expectations too high. I’ve been told that before. Usually by people who have left me, those who stay (and my therapist) insist I’ve been asking for the bare minimum. To this day I still don’t know. If all you get is nothing , surely you are nothing? You don’t deserve to ask for more.

By June I started thinking she’s not happy with me. I’m not the one she wants. I don’t think much of myself. I don’t think I’m worth anything. I wrote her a letter that sat in my desk at work, basically saying that she deserved to be happy. She deserved to be with someone who sparks excitement, joy, and romance in her. Someone she wants to introduce to her friends (that she’s out to). Someone that she wants to spend time with and forgets about anyone else (within reason obviously, not like actually forgetting the world friends and responsibilities). Someone she is actually excited to spend time with and looks forward to. Someone that makes her not want to cancel every other date. She shouldn’t settle, even if it’s for me.

It broke my heart to write that letter. I was going to give it to her after her birthday because I didn’t want to be a sick and break up with her right before/on her birthday. Turns out she beat me to the punch and dumped me after I took her home.

I don’t know why I was surprised. The entire relationship things didn’t feel right. I always felt like I was doing something wrong. People in my life always seem to like the idea of me and then when they get to see the real me suddenly it’s like oops too much I’m out. Or alternatively they just.. they think I’m interesting and then lose interest.

My birth mother rejected me not once but twice. My adoptive mother was thrilled at the idea of me until I got to be about 4 and she realized something wasn’t quite right. My dad doesn’t care enough about me to stop drinking. Almost every single best friend I’ve ever had growing up has left usually because of some stupid shit I’ve done or because they’re embarrassed of me. Cheryl thought I was some monster out to hurt my friends (even when said “hurt” friend who was actually there went to bat for me and confirmed that I was literally just in the wrong place at the wrong time). Holly stopped caring. Brie never cared. Johanna only cared when she could use her affection of me to hurt someone else she was being petty with. Lissa only wanted someone she could bully, and even once she had me it wasn’t enough. Jerika definitely didn’t want me, and even my closest friend of 17 years Amy left for three months in which I genuinely thought she wasn’t coming back because I had the audacity to try to help her out of a panic attack. Jocelyn couldn’t stand me for more than a week at a time and roxii didn’t have the time of day for me after Americorps.

I feel like my whole life has just been a game of measurements that’s found me wanting. I tried. I tried so hard and I know I didn’t succeed I know there were things I could have done differently with my latest ex. Things I could have done better. I’ve never wanted anything to work so much in my life. Never tried so hard and still I wasn’t enough. I’m never enough.

I watched her, the woman that I was in love with, slowly lose interest in me over the course of about 4 months. Do you know what that’s like? What that does to you? The more I tried, the quicker she seemed to fade. I kept thinking if I just try harder, I’m just not doing, saying the right things. I read every book on relationships I could get my hands on (blatantly ignoring the parts that told me I should see the red flags for what they were and step away). I took notes. I watched therapy videos. I put to work every therapy technique I had ever learned. I wasn’t perfect but I was going to give this everything I had. Just once I didn’t want anyone to be able to say I didn’t try. I wanted to be as healthy, loving and supportive of a partner as I could because I loved her and didn’t want to hurt her. I knew that I had a lot of personal growth that I had been working on before I met her and I wanted to really ramp that up while I was with her to be good to her. To be good for her.

I’m not even mad. My friends say I should be. They’re mad on my behalf and I’m the one telling them to be nice, and defending her. Part of me thinks they’re right but mostly, mostly I think I’m just a steaming pile of shit and I deserved this.

I wasn’t enough. I’m tired of not being enough. I’m tired of fighting the universe showing me over, and over, and over, and over, and over again how absolutely worthless, not shit I am.

When she broke up with me I told her I felt like I was losing one of my best friends. She said we’re still friends I’m still going to be in your life and we will still talk. Turns out that’s only if I initiate and usually shortly after she shuts it down. So. I guess not.

I asked her one thing and that was when (not if because obviously when, I mean if you saw her you would understand) she moved on if she could just not bring the new person around for the first few months so I didn’t have to see it immediately I would appreciate it and she was like yeah for sure. I told her I wanted her to be happy and I meant it. I just didn’t realize it was going to be barely over 2 months and with one of my good friends.

To be clear she can date whomever she wants. I just thought there might have been more time between them showing up publicly and honestly? Even if her friend was single, interested in me, and I interested in her, I wouldn’t have dated her friend. Even if the positions were reversed and I actually broke up with her first, I wouldn’t have dated her friend. I would imagine that would hurt and I never want to hurt her. Ever. I just.. I wouldn’t have done it. And then she told my one best friend to not tell my other best friend or me and I’m like?? So you know this is a little shady and you’re still gonna?? Like you literally couldn’t wake a couple more months? Just til after Friendsgiving so I don’t have to come to a group event and plaster on a smile when it makes me want to stab myself in the heart.

Alright. Well. Good for her. And I mean that. I just.. can’t see that right now so I’m not seeing any of them. I heard the song Reminds me of you by Kim petras today “cut off all my friends because they remind me of you” and literally felt punched in the gut. Like yep. Too right. Because what am I supposed to go go hang out with my closest friends, where she and her new partner are, and fake a smile? I’m barely holding it together. There’s literally not a day in which I don’t want to kill myself.

Not because she broke up with me. Because I’m tired of being worthless to everyone I care about. Like why the fuck am I even here? Is this what I was born for? To be trash? To be used by people until they find someone better? Or to be someone’s quirky new friend until they find out my quirks are not an act? Or for people to think Im interesting only to slowly realize that I’m not and want nothing to do with me?

I think about all the things I’ve survived that I shouldn’t have and get frustrated because wHY? Why couldnt I just have died and been done with everything? I said to Nathan the other day that at some point I have to realize that the common denominator here is me. Clearly I am the problem. Clearly I am worthless and it’s time to fucking accept that. His reply was that it’s easy to think that you’re the common denominator when it’s your life but that’s just because you’re stuck in it. Idk man. I don’t think I have just extraordinarily shitty luck. I think it’s just me.

I am worthless. Not shit. To anyone. There are some who have stayed but it’s literally just a matter of time until they leave. It’s inevitable, and I’m tired of trying to pretend it’s not. I’m tired of trying to pretend I’m worth something to anyone. I’m tired of begging people to care about me, family, friends, partners. I’m just tired. So tired. Im tired of being tired.

Fuck my life insurance policy. The majority of the people on it don’t care about me anyway, so fuck it if it doesn’t pay out. It wouldn’t be my problem. Sitting here trying to think of ways that wouldn’t traumatize my roommates, would be guaranteed, relatively pain free, and wouldn’t put anyone else at risk. And then I remember I’m a coward and if I fuck it up then there goes what little I have made of my career, I’d lose my job (not that I’m thriving anyway), I’d probably be permanently damaged in ways that would then make me a burden to my parents.

Maybe I can’t kill myself, but somebody else sure could. I could find somebody abusive and just throw myself into that until one day they take it too far. That’s about what I deserve. And then my policy would pay out and the people I live most would be taken care of, regardless of how their treatment of me makes me feel. Maybe I could do some good in this world. The only good I’ll have ever done but it has to count for something right? Who am I kidding nothing I do counts for anything but I’m crazy and keep doing the same things expecting different results.

It’s funny. The one person who wants to leave me the most, can’t. I wish I could though.

Don’t take this too seriously I’m venting. it’s fine, I’m fine.

#God I wish that I could do that #Good for you #TW depression #I’m fine #tw suicidal ideation

[haroldtea]

i wrote something!!

soooo I’m a pathological “i have a fic idea and i’m never going to write it or I write a few pages and then fall off” writer buuuut I had this very cute idea and wrote 4k words of it! I wanted to post it here before ao3 because 1) not sure if I’m a fan of starting a multichapter WIP because I still may abandon it like my other stuff 2) i want feedback before i continue!!

here’s the gist: it’s princess prom except it’s a high school au and princess prom is actually homecoming. Adora is very happy and supportive of Glimmer and Bow running for king/queen. Glimmer is very, very passionate about winning. The problem is they’ve naturally got competition, in the form of Perfuma (who is equally as passionate about winning, for her own reasons) and her new girlfriend Scorpia. In a sitcom-style mishap, Adora sort of accidentally signs up to run as well...with Catra, Scorpia’s best friend who Adora doesn’t not have a crush on. The two decide to go through with it with the intention of getting eliminated from the race as soon as possible. Then, their friends come up with a different plan for them.

so, take a read below at 4k of stupidity and let me know what you think, and if you would be interested to read more :) (fyi there is a lot of swearing lol)

“I’M GONNA BE THE QUEEN!”

Adora shrieks, flailing her arms and almost knocking her lamp over in the process. She whirls around in her desk chair to face the intruder, arms raised in karate chop form (she does not know any martial arts), and finds Glimmer, who has flung her bedroom door open and has that crazed Glimmer look in her eyes that only means trouble.

“Fuck! Glimmer, you can’t just sneak up--wait, how did you get in my house?!”

“Didn’t you hear what I said?! Also, the door was unlocked,” Glimmer replies, kicking off her shoes and launching herself onto Adora’s bed, which she had just painstakingly made.

Adora presses her hand into her face, sighing. “I was kind of busy trying not to piss myself. Haven’t you heard of knocking? What if I was, you know...” she says, gesturing vaguely.

Glimmer rolls her eyes. “Please, Adora. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Anyway--the student council decided to bring back the homecoming pep rally!” she squeals, gleefully kicking her feet in the air.

Adora leans back in her chair, brows furrowed. “Bring back? Didn’t we have one last year?”

“Yes, but after the water balloon thing they weren’t gonna let us have it anymore, but it turns out that one senior who wasn’t gonna graduate did graduate so I guess they figured it would probably be fine, ‘cause like, who’s ever gonna try and top that?”

“Right,” Adora hums, thinking back to last year’s pep rally. Just before homecoming court was announced, a group of rogue seniors had risen from the bleachers, unleashing dozens of water balloons they had stashed in their backpacks. What ensued was a pandemonium Adora could only remember in flashes, resulting in almost the entire student body and the school’s hallways being completely soaked.

The catch was that the seniors had filled the balloons with blue paint. It had taken the janitorial staff weeks to get the gym bleachers, the lockers in the science wing, and the cafeteria ceiling (don’t ask) to look normal again. Classes were cancelled for almost an entire week because the paint had messed up something with the internal plumbing. It was single-handedly the coolest thing Adora had experienced in her living years.

It was all led by the legendary Mara Hart, notorious for sticking it to the man during her K-12 years. The prank had all but gotten her and her friends expelled, but given that she was otherwise an A+ student and no one could technically prove who was behind it (her friends were loyal to each other to the bitter end), she walked at Bright Moon High’s graduation to uproarious applause from her classmates.

Adora knew some of the more grisly details because Mara had been captain of the girls’ lacrosse team last year--effortlessly cool Mara, endlessly caring Mara, definitely part of Adora’s gay awakening Mara--but it had become something of an urban legend at BMHS over the past year.

“Wait, how do you know any of this?” Adora asks, because while she was personally connected to Mara in a small way, she hadn’t been aware that they were going to cancel the pep rally indefinitely.

Glimmer arches an eyebrow. “Um, hello? My mom’s the principal?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“And Mermista totally let it slip when I asked her about it after the student council meeting,” Glimmer adds, then pauses. “Okay, it was more like I didn’t even wanna be there and I wish no one had ever voted for me and I’ll tell you whatever, but still. I’m...” she props her face in her hands and bats her eyelashes, “in the know.”

Adora smirks and rolls her eyes fondly, turning back to her desk to shut her textbook and put her notes away. She can never get anything done when Glimmer’s around. “Okay, so, pep rally’s back--that’s cool,” she says.

“It’s not just cool, Adora,” Glimmer scoffs. “Being homecoming queen is literally all I’ve wanted since I was a kid. I thought my dream had died with Mara’s academic career, but now there’s hope again--it’s meant to be, Adora. It’s destiny.”

Adora had literally never heard Glimmer talk about this, but, “Um, okay.”

Glimmer huffs and dramatically rolls onto her back, flinging her arms out and further messing up Adora’s sheets. Lesson learned, it isn’t worth the effort for Adora to make the bed anymore. “My mom was the homecoming queen like a hundred years ago, and my aunt was the homecoming queen before that. It’s, like, my birthright!”

Adora lifts a shoulder, twisting around in her chair to look at Glimmer. “Okay, then we’ll just get you to be the homecoming queen too. Can’t your mom just...make it happen?”

“Ugh, no,” Glimmer sighs. “I already asked. It’s a student vote.”

“Oh!” Adora brightens. “That’s easy, then. Everyone loves you.”

Glimmer pouts. “I know, but it’s not just a popularity contest--it’s, like, a whole thing. Me and Bow are gonna have to do a talent show, and there’s a relay race, and other stuff that if we don’t do well in we won’t even get to be in the final vote.”

“Wait, what?” Adora doesn’t remember any of that from last year. “What do you mean, Bow? Is...he's running for homecoming queen too?”

“Ha! No,” Glimmer laughs, then her expression darkens, eyes narrowing. “I would crush him.”

“Right...” Adora says. Actually, Bow would make a pretty good homecoming queen. But Adora values her life, so she decidedly does tell Glimmer this.

“No, every queen nominee has to also have someone to run with them as their ‘king,’” Glimmer explains, making air quotes with her fingers. “There’s no boy/girl bullshit, but you do have to be in a pair.”

“I don’t remember any...talent shows, or whatever,” Adora points out. “I don’t think I’ve ever even heard of one of those happening in real life.”

“Well, obviously you never went. It would’ve all been during your lacrosse thingies and you would've been too busy making googly eyes at Mara Hart,” Glimmer replies, wiggling her fingers at Adora.

Adora crosses her arms and blushes a deep red. “I would not. I would’ve been playing lacrosse. And stuff.” Okay, maybe she did make googly eyes at Mara, but only sometimes, as a treat, and Glimmer doesn’t need to know that.

Glimmer flips back over on her stomach and levels Adora with a pout. “Adora, this means a lot to me. We’re gonna need your help to win this.”

Adora has no idea how she could possibly be of any help with this, but hey-- “Of course, Glimmer. Whatever you need. I’m there.”

Glimmer grins, eyes sparkling. “Yaaaaay. Also, my mom’s making meatloaf tonight, you in?”

Adora pumps her fist in the air. “Sweet. Hell, yes.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“This is a joke, right? Like, you’re joking?” Catra says into the receiver as she shoves another handful of popcorn into her mouth.

“I am usually a pretty funny gal, it’s true--but, ah, no. This time I’m serious,” Scorpia replies on the other end.

Catra hoists her phone higher up on her shoulder while she adjusts her grip on her Xbox controller. “Okay, please explain,” she says between chews.

Scorpa sighs, and Catra visualizes her sitting cross-legged on her bedspread, hugging one of her many stuffed animals to her chest. “I know it’s kind of silly, but Perfuma sounded really excited about it, ‘cause I guess if you win, you get to pick what charity the proceeds from the dance ticket sales go to, and...I just couldn’t say no?”

Catra smirks, mashing a series of buttons on her controller as her TV screen lights up in front of her. She’s been trying to get past this level for weeks, but she’ll probably die right before the end again whether she’d answered Scorpia’s call or not. “You are so whipped,” she says.

Scorpia sighs again, but this time Catra can hear a smile in it. “I guess so, kitty cat. Still, it sounds kinda...fun? I mean, it’s more time spent with her, if anything else. She’s talking about writing an original song together for the talent show and incorporating her Tibetan singing bowls into it.”

Catra takes that in and barely suppresses a laugh. Her New Year’s resolution was to make fun of her friends less. Some days are harder than others. “Um, wow,” she says instead. “That’s, uh...that’ll be interesting. Do I have to call you Queen Scorpia if you win?”

“Oh, Perfuma doesn’t believe in gendered royalty,” Scorpia replies. “She wants us to be known as Homecoming Monarchs.”

“Of course she does,” Catra mutters. Perfuma is endlessly kind and patient and makes Scorpia smile, so by default Catra likes her, but otherwise they...don’t exactly share identical values, let’s say. Catra brings her own point home by pressing a button on her controller and chainsawing an alien in half on screen.

“Do you...think it’s a stupid idea? The whole...running for homecoming thing, I mean.”

Catra hears the telltale signs of Scorpia-doubting-herself in her reply, so she pauses the game. “Nah. If it’s something you guys wanna do, you should go for it. Fuck what anyone else thinks.”

“Okay, thanks,” Scorpia says, sounding lighter. “I think it means a lot to Perfuma. It would be cool to win it for her.”

“Well, hey,” Catra continues, un-pausing her game. “If you need any help, let me kn--oh, fuck!”

“Catra?” Panic sets in Scorpia’s tone. “Kitty cat, speak to me--do I need to call 911?!”

“No, no, Scorpia, please don’t do that,” Catra groans, tossing her controller aside. “I just got blown up in my stupid game again, that’s all. I’m never gonna beat this final boss.”

Scorpia sighed in relief. “Aw, don’t give up, kitty cat. One of these days, you’re gonna really give it to--what’s the dude’s name again?”

“Prime something-or-whatever,” Catra grumbled, reaching for her popcorn.

“Yeah, that guy. He’ll never know what hit him.”

Catra snickers into the receiver. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Scorpia.”

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The lunch period at BMHS is, naturally, chaotic. Being a regional high school, every inch of the place is usually crawling with students, and the cafeteria is no different. The student population is small enough and the cafeteria big enough to condense into one lunch period, although Adora has oftentimes heard Perfuma lament about the ethics and health concerns of overcrowding.

Adora likes chaos. She likes that the overlapping sounds of chairs scraping and garbled chattering combine to form a comforting din that allows her to drown out whatever weird TikTok plans Bow’s making (ok, to be real, she will be asking about them later) and quietly observe the antics happening at tables around them.

She takes another bite of her pudding and her eyes land on the table to their right where Kyle, Lonnie, and Rogelio from her math class always sit together. Lonnie is mechanically chewing her gum as she stares into a compact mirror, examining her eyebrows with fierce concentration. Across from her, Kyle is holding up something on his phone to Rogelio with one hand and gesticulating wildly with the other as he holds a corn dog. Rogelio is nodding along but is staring down fondly at Kyle rather than at the screen Kyle’s pointing to, one arm hanging loose around Kyle’s shoulders. Lonnie slaps her compact shut and shouts something at them, pointing emphatically to her eyebrows. They all pause for a moment before bursting into laughter. Then Kyle drops his corn dog.

Adora pointedly does not observe the table across from theirs. She’ll gladly watch the Star siblings silently and intensely do their homework for the next period, or listen to Mermista fight off Seahawk’s PDA attempts, but nothing could compel her to look at the table straight ahead.

That table was where Catra Weaver and her friends sat.

Including: Perfuma’s new girlfriend, Scorpia Garnet; Entrapta Dryl, who was dating one of the Hordak twins (Adora was ever completely sure which one); the Hordak twins in question, one of which who usually broods silently and one of which who usually stares around smiling at nothing and everything; the stylish and blonde ruler of the theatre kids who has been nicknamed Double Trouble for as long as Adora can remember; and finally: Catra Weaver. Effortlessly cool, effortlessly gorgeous, effortlessly effortless Catra Weaver, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed, coolly regarding the rest of the cafeteria as she holds court at her table of wonderful misfit toys.

Today’s effortless ensemble: cool jean jacket, a cool crop top, cool black jeans, cool combat boots, she got a haircut recently so--

“Um, Earth to Adora?”

“Huh?” Adora says, jerking her head up.

This is why she avoids looking at Catra Weaver’s table. Or Catra Weaver in general.

“We were talking about homecoming,” Glimmer says from her seat across from Adora, raising an eyebrow. “You were totally spaced out.”

Adora clears her throat, willing herself not to blush. “Sorry,” she replies, digging back into her pudding.

“Glimmer’s trying to convince me not to run for court,” Perfuma continues, crossing her arms.

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s totally lame and stupid and a waste of time,” Mermista answers from beside Perfuma, inspecting her nail polish. She glances up when she senses everyone at the table staring at her. “What?”

“Mermista, you’re on the homecoming committee,” Bow says.

Mermista shrugs. “So? I said what I said.”

“Look, Perfuma,” Glimmer starts, sliding her hand across the table toward Perfuma. “I just don’t want you to be disappointed if you lose. Homecoming’s a really big deal to me, and I really want to win.” She smiles saccharinely, tilting her head at Perfuma, eyes gone wide. Bow and Adora exchange a look.

Perfuma smiles back. “Oh, don’t worry about me, Glimmer! I’m sure our classmates will select the most deserving and talented couple to win,” she says, then goes back to stabbing a fork into her salad.

Glimmer’s eye starts twitching. Bow slowly and gently takes Glimmer’s hand and slides it back to her side of the table. “Glimmer, we’ll do great. The most important thing is to have fun,” he says, patting her hand.

“The most important thing is the charity,” Perfuma mutters.

“That too.”

“Is anybody else we know running?” Adora asks. Glimmer and Perfuma both shake their heads in response, until Mermista sighs dejectedly.

“Unfortunately,” she groans, raising her hand.

“Wait, what?! You just said it was stupid and lame!” Bow squawks.

“It is,” Mermista rolls her eyes. “But the rest of the student council said it would look really bad if I was on the planning committee and didn’t run. I was forced against my will.”

“Isn’t that a conflict of interest?” Glimmer asks, gripping her lunch tray so tight Adora wondered if she was going to launch it at Mermista’s head.

“I don’t know? I guess not? I’m planning on getting cut as soon as humanly possible though, so whatever,” Mermista replies, flicking her hair behind her shoulder.

“We won’t win with that attitude, my love!” Seahawk roars, throwing his arm around Mermista’s shoulder and raising a fist triumphantly. “You and I are going to be the greatest King and Queen this school has ever seen!”

“Oh my god, please stop,” Mermista groans, hiding her face in her hands.

“Picture it: you, me, newly crowned, gliding down the science wing--the students stop and stare! Could it really be our King and Queen in the flesh? The teachers stare too! I am going to give them both straight A’s!”

“Please just sit and eat your sandwich,” Mermista begs.

“Never,” Seahawk says, then kisses her on the cheek and acquiesces, taking a big bite of his sandwich. Adora tries to hide her smirk when she sees Mermista blush a deep red. She elbows Glimmer and nods in their direction so she can see.

“Aw, how cute. I’m going to destroy them,” Glimmer whispers in Adora’s ear.

“I know,” Adora whispers back. “But try to at least be nice about it.”

“No promises.”

“Ok, I have to pee,” Adora announces to the table, grabbing her lunch tray as she stands, grinning at Bow’s groan of TMI, Adora!

She makes her way over to the trash cans by the cafeteria exit, waving to her friends on the lacrosse team as she dumps her leftovers in the trash and sets the tray in the dish bin beside it. She should probably go over and check in with them about practice tonight, but she really has to pee, which reminds her that she forgot her water bottle all the way back to the table and needs to refill it before her next class.

“Damn it,” she mutters to herself, still smiling at her lacrosse friends as she whips around to head back--

And crashes right into someone, their heads knocking smack together.

“Ow!” Adora yelps, losing her footing for a moment. She rubs at her stinging forehead, glancing up as she apologizes, “Shit, sorry, sorry, that was totally my fault, I--”

And stares right up at Catra Weaver.

“I...I...I...”

She blinks a few times, but yes, that is Catra Weaver, rubbing at her own forehead and fixing a few strands of hair that had come loose from behind her ears. Catra Weaver, up close and personal, who she hasn’t talked to since...

“Your forehead is fucking hard. And big,” Catra says, holding her tray in one hand as she narrows her eyes up at Adora.

“Oh, um, you too...I mean! Thanks? I grew it myself,” Adora replies spectacularly, and then promptly wants to crawl into a hole and never come out.

Catra raises one eyebrow at her. “How hard did I hit you?”

Adora scrambles to answer. “Oh, not at all! I mean, not hard. It was my fault. Are you, um, are you okay?” This is going amazingly.

“I’m fine, Greyskull,” Catra replies, sending a tingle up Adora’s spine. She goes to deposit her tray. “Just watch where you’re going.”

Adora grins dopily. “Yes. I mean--I will. Sorry. Again.”

Catra glances Adora up and down, eyebrow still raised, and goes to say something else, when they’re interrupted by a foreboding, familiar voice.

“Ah, Adora! I’m so pleased to see you taking an interest in student affairs.”

Adora turns to see Glimmer’s mom looming over them, hands neatly clasped together. Maybe looming isn’t the right word as she’s smiling brightly down on her and Catra, but she’s tall, ok? “Oh, hi Ang--,” Adora starts before remembering they’re at school, “um, Mrs. Moon. What’s up?”

Angella gestures between her and Catra. “I was just observing how wonderful it will be that Glimmer will have a friend to share the homecoming experience with.”

Adora tenses again, remembering that Catra is still standing very close to her. “Oh, haha, yeah, super great. Wait, what?” Sharing?

Then she notices that her and Catra are standing in front of the wall where the Homecoming Court Signup Sheet is hanging. A sparkly pen tied to the clipboard is dangling within Adora’s reach.

“Oh, um, actually, Perfuma’s already--”

“I think this activity will make a fine addition to your college applications, Adora. And you know how Glimmer gets,” Angella leans in conspiratorially, not bothering to lower her voice. “I think it will calm her nerves to have a friend by her side. A bit of friendly competition, even!” she claps her hands together, delighted. “I remember having so much fun with my friends back in my day.”

“But, I’m already on the lacrosse team...” Adora mumbles, scratching the back of her neck. She glances down at the pen.

“Oh, but you know schools these days, always looking for that something that makes a student stand out,” Angella says, waving her hand dismissively. “And don’t worry, I’ll speak to Coach Huntara about any scheduling conflicts. You’ll get to have the best of both worlds!”

Wait, but lacrosse was Adora’s whole thing--does she not stand out enough? Will she seem boring to UEternia? “I...”

“Oh, Ms. Weaver!” Angella says, as if she’s just now noticing Catra. “I didn’t take you for the...school spirit type.”

“I’m not,” Catra replies, crossing her arms. She smiles saccharinely and adds, “ma’am,” for good measure. God, she’s cool.

“Ah,” Angella says, creating an awkward pause before brightening again. “Well, still, here you are. Are you Adora’s running mate?”

So, sometimes Adora panics.

Look, she’s in a high-stress situation. The girl she doesn’t not have an embarrassing crush on bumped into her, talked to her, and then her best friend’s mom swooped in basically saying that lacrosse is boring and dumb and running for homecoming court will get her into UEternia. At least, that’s what Adora got from all that. And then she insinuates that she’ll be doing that with Catra Weaver.

So, she panics. She panics, and she grabs the glittery pen, and she continues to panic.

“Yep! We’re running together!” she says, grinning.

“Say what?” Catra hisses.

“Oh, wonderful!” Angella squeals, clapping her hands together again. “I must say, I think this will turn out to be a very interesting competition. You’ll have to come dress shopping with us, Adora.”

“Haha, yeah...” Adora says, quickly scribbling Adora Greyskull & Catra Weaver on the signup sheet. Oh fuck, oh god.

“Hang on a fu--” Catra starts, then clamps her mouth shut, because the goddamn principal is still talking to them.

“Oh, I wonder what you’ll do for the talent show! I can’t wait...well, I’m off. It was great catching up, girls!” Angella says, and winks, and does weird-mom-finger-guns, and then she’s gliding away as quickly as she came.

Adora continues to grin and wave awkwardly until Angella is out of sight, then she deflates. That was so weird.

Then she turns and sees Catra reach for the pen that’s still in her hand. Adora has half a mind to snatch it away. Or half a brain cell, at least. “Hey!”

“Cross our names out. Right. Now,” Catra growls through gritted teeth, still trying to grab the pen. Adora tries to hold it up out of reach, but it’s still attached to the clipboard, so the best she can do is weave her hand in and out of Catra’s way.

“Um, no? I just told her we were running!”

“Well, we’re not. Give it to me!”

“No!” Adora grunts, yanking the pen away. “You heard her--she’s gonna talk to Coach Huntara. I can’t back out now.”

“Well, I can!” Catra says, grabbing at Adora’s arm, where she has the pen tucked under her armpit. “Find someone else to run with you!”

“I can’t! They’ll want to win!” Adora says, twisting her body away from Catra. She’s having a slight meltdown over Catra touching her so much, but she’s focusing on the pen for now. “No one’s gonna want to run with me anyway.”

Catra mutters something under her breath that Adora doesn’t catch, then she snakes her hand under Adora’s and takes hold of her wrist. Adora stifles a gasp. “Wait, you don’t want to win?” Catra asks, eyebrow quirked.

“Noooo,” Adora furiously shakes her head. “No, no, no. Glimmer would kill me. She wants to win. I just, um, panicked. I guess?” The heat from Catra’s hand is searing into her wrist.

Catra glances down at their hands and back up at Adora. “So, your friend will kill you if you run for homecoming. And you just signed up in front of her mom?”

“Um...” Adora thinks for a second. “Yes?”

Catra huffs out a laugh. “Wow, you’re even more of an idiot than I remember.”

Adora feels her face redden, shocked at Catra’s casual mention of the past, and glances away. “Look, let’s just get eliminated as quickly as possible and then we can forget it ever happened. Deal?”

“Ugh,” Catra lets out a groan, leaning her head back. She tugs at Adora’s wrist a few times, finding that she isn’t budging. “Fine! As quickly as possible.”

“As quickly as possible,” Adora nods, finding herself grinning as Catra loosens her grip and pulls away. “I’m gonna take this pen home, by the way,” she calls out as Catra begins to head back to her table.

“Fuck!”

After Adora finally pees and refills her water bottle, she gingerly sits back down beside Glimmer. Poor, sweet, deadly Glimmer, who’s chattering away excitedly with Seahawk about some new music video or something.

She says, in a very tiny voice, “So, um...I think I’m running for homecoming queen?”

Glimmer whips her head around, nose flaring. She stands up, slamming both hands down on the table with a smack.

“You WHAT?!”

And then the bell rings.

#she ra #she-ra #spop #catradora #catradora fic #scorfuma #glimbow