#having an emergency trip and stuff

[corcnaiism]

;-- alright ya'll here is the deal: starting on 12/21/24 i will be out of the country until 1/3/24. depending on how much signal i got where i'm going, this blog will be put on a small hiatus until i get back just to be safe. if i post anything at all between that time, i'll be mobile only and won't be doing replies. so yeah, just wanted to let you guys know.

[thevioletcaptain]

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[shimp-heaven]

🫩

[beast-feast]

Thinking of opening sketch cömms for a lil...I have 7 slots open and they'll remain open until next Friday (August 25) :)

[flyingwiththefish]

Some camping advice:

Bring enough underwear that you can safely shit yourself at least once a day

Bring enough socks to wear two pairs a day, either to double up or sweaty feet (or the sock goblins eat half of them)

Bring a spare for your spare air bed. I cannot stress enough how many spare air beds are necessary

Bring an in-case-of-emergency-poncho or something else that can be stored in a pocket or bag and used as a waterproof in a sudden downpour

For the love of all that is holy bring an extra air bed

Presume that rain means the tent is flooding and presume it will rain every night, don't leave books or electronics on the floor (I have sat in a tent through record-breaking downpours on nights that were supposed to be clear, the weather men are full of lies)

Bring a small first aid kit - even if no one is injured, the plasters can help temporarily fix air beds

Bring some empty or create some empty bottles to fill with water on the campsite - for drinking or washing things later, it's really helpful

At all times take an in-case-of-emergency-toilet-roll

Take hand sanitizer everywhere

Power banks for phone charging

There's probably other stuff but I can't think past my rage at air beds right now

[matt-murdockk]

Nine-Nine!

an extremely self indulgent brooklyn 99 and criminal minds crossover

pairing: spencer reid x reader (with a tiny bit of almost jake peralta x reader for funsies)

words: 3.0k

warnings: none, this is fluff and comedy <3

summary: Spencer Reid’s grip on sanity? Loose. (Y/n)’s patience? Tested. Jake Peralta? Accidentally in the middle of a romcom finale with no snacks. There’s banter, jealousy, a tasered vending machine, and one (1) emergency love confession.

a/n: crossover episode my beloved; this was extremely fun to write lolllllll, hope you like it <3

Spencer was already three tangents deep into the geographic profile, talking fast, hands moving like the words were trying to escape faster than his brain could handle. (Y/n) had learned years ago to just let him go. He’d loop back around eventually. Usually.

“The spacing of the disposal sites suggests he’s sticking to a routine. All within a tight radius— three miles or so. That kind of pattern almost always means it’s familiar territory. Could be work, could be home base. Most likely night shifts, given the dump times— between 2:10 and 3:30 a.m. Which means fewer witnesses, less traffic—”

“Or he just likes moonlight and solitude,” (Y/n) said absently, scribbling something in her notebook. “Creepy guys tend to romanticize the weirdest stuff.”

Spencer didn’t look up. “That’s… statistically consistent with other narcissistic or compulsive offenders, actually.”

She glanced over at him. “You know you could just say ‘you’re right.’ It won’t kill you.”

He did look at her then, quick, with the faintest smirk pulling at his mouth. “I’m not sure I’ve tested that hypothesis thoroughly enough to risk it.”

She snorted. “Tragic. I thought you loved me.”

Spencer didn’t miss a beat. “I do. But not enough to sacrifice academic integrity.”

“Wow.” She pressed a hand to her chest. “Wounded. Devastated. Utterly betrayed.”

“Noted,” he murmured, turning back to his screen with an annoyingly smug look.

Derek leaned forward from his seat across the aisle. “Are y’all gonna do this the whole flight?”

JJ didn’t even look up from her file. “They’re gonna do this the whole case.”

“I’m sitting right here,” (Y/n) called over.

“And yet, you keep doing this,” Emily muttered, sipping her coffee. “Every case. Without fail.”

Spencer turned his tablet toward (Y/n), pretending not to hear them. “There are five possible buildings inside the comfort zone. Abandoned commercial spaces, all accessible. No cameras.”

She leaned closer, squinting at the screen. “That one. Tucked behind the construction site. No visibility from the road.”

He nodded. “I had that ranked third.”

“I outrank your list.”

“You outrank logic?”

“I outrank you, Reid.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Bold claim for someone who once tripped over their own shoelaces during a takedown.”

“You’re never letting that go, are you.”

“Absolutely not.”

(Y/n) sighed, grabbing her coffee and slumping back in her seat. “You’re lucky I find your chaos charming.”

Spencer, without looking up, murmured, “You’re lucky I find you charming.”

And just like that, she paused.

It wasn’t even the words— it was the way he said it. Like it was obvious. Like it wasn’t meant to land the way it did.

Her fingers stilled on the coffee cup. Just for a second. Then she shook her head, eyes narrowing. “You trying to throw me off before we hit the ground? Because that’s a dirty tactic, Reid.”

He smiled, faint. “If I wanted to throw you off, I’d bring up that time you accidentally used your taser on the vending machine.”

“That was one time.”

“I still have the video.”

Derek threw up his hands. “Okay, I need noise-canceling headphones or a fire alarm. One or the other.”

“Let them have their foreplay,” Rossi grumbled from behind his paper. “Just as long as it doesn’t slow down the case.”

(Y/n) rolled her eyes, but she didn’t stop smiling. Not even a little.

And Spencer? He didn’t say anything else.

But his knee brushed against hers under the table.

And he didn’t move it.

——————————————————————————————————

The precinct was pure, barely-contained chaos. Phones ringing, printers jamming, someone yelling “I said decaf!” from the breakroom. (Y/n) stepped in behind the team, her eyes scanning the flurry with the kind of calm that only came from years of being thrown headfirst into crime scenes that smelled like old pizza and adrenaline.

Then— like he was summoned by the gods of caffeine and chaos— a voice cut through the noise.

“FBI? Oh thank god. Tell me you’re the FBI. If one more lieutenant hands me a case file on raccoon-related vandalism, I’m going to start speaking in riddles.”

The guy had two coffees in one hand, a folder under his arm, and the kind of face that said yes, I’m sleep-deprived, but I’ve made it part of my personality now.

“Detective Jake Peralta,” he added, stepping forward and immediately handing one of the coffees off to a passing officer. “You must be the reinforcements. Welcome to our deeply unfortunate circus.”

(Y/n) stepped forward with a polite smile. “Agent (Y/l/n), BAU.”

Jake looked at her and forgot what vowels were.

“Oh. Cool. Yeah. Wow.” He blinked. “Hi. Sorry. That was… a very professional reaction to a federal agent. I’m super normal.”

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow, amused. “Totally. You look extremely normal.”

Jake pointed at her like he was confirming her existence for himself. “And funny. She’s funny, too. Great. Just awesome.”

Spencer, two steps behind her, tilted his head the tiniest bit. Not enough to be obvious. Just enough that Emily, walking next to him, noticed immediately.

“So,” Jake said, already spinning on his heel and motioning them toward the evidence board, “we’ve got three victims, matching M.O., a dump site triangle, and a ton of questions. I’d love to walk you through it. Bonus: I also know where the best snacks are hidden in this precinct. Critical intel.”

“Let me guess,” (Y/n) said, falling into step beside him, “you keep gummy bears in a murder folder?”

Jake gave her a wide-eyed, deeply serious nod. “Listen, I can’t solve murder with low blood sugar. That’s just biology. Forensics and fruit snacks— two pillars of modern justice.”

She actually laughed, bumping her shoulder lightly into his. “That’s what you’re going with? Fruit snacks and felony charges?”

“Look,” he said, glancing at her with a grin, “some people have badges, some have instincts— I have a snack drawer and a vibe.”

(Y/n) shot him a look. “And a lot of confidence, apparently.”

“It’s the only thing holding me together.”

Spencer, still watching from behind, clenched his jaw and stared very intently at the murder board— as if sheer willpower would make Jake Peralta spontaneously combust.

Derek leaned over slightly. “You good?”

“I’m fine,” Spencer said. Way too quickly.

“Uh-huh.”

(Y/n) looked over her shoulder, smiling. “Spencer, you coming?”

Spencer blinked. “Right behind you.”

Emily raised an eyebrow as he passed, giving him that look— the one that meant I know, and I’m about to say it out loud.

He walked faster.

Behind them, Emily whispered to JJ, “We have now entered full-blown Jealous Spencer territory.”

JJ winced sympathetically. “He doesn’t stand a chance.”

——————————————————————————————————

The dump site was taped off, abandoned and eerie in the late afternoon light. A narrow alley backed by cracked concrete walls, discarded furniture, and silence— except for the occasional buzz of Spencer’s pen clicking in his pocket. Repeatedly.

Jake and (Y/n) were walking ahead of the rest of the group, ducking under the tape, their steps crunching through gravel.

“Okay,” Jake said, scanning the alley. “I know it’s not exactly a five-star view, but I promise this is the cleanest murder site we’ve had all week. That’s a weird sentence.”

(Y/n) laughed. “It’s fine. We spend half our lives in parking lots and basements. Honestly, this is kind of charming.”

Jake pointed at a tipped-over dumpster. “Ah, yes. Classic small-town ambiance.”

She crouched near a drainpipe, tilting her head. “He’s dumping at night. No cameras. But the dumpster’s too obvious— too accessible. He’s not just hiding the bodies, he’s watching them.”

Jake blinked. “Okay. That’s… both creepy and very insightful. You do this a lot?”

She looked up at him, playful. “Solve murders? Yeah. Flirt at them? Not usually.”

He smirked, a little lopsided. “Hey, I haven’t even started flirting yet. That was just me being charming.”

“Oh, just charming?” she teased.

Jake leaned against the wall, watching her. “Let me know when you’re ready for the full Peralta experience. It includes sarcasm, emotional baggage, and an impressive knowledge of Die Hard trivia.”

(Y/n) stood, brushing off her knees. “That’s a lot to take in on a first crime scene.”

He grinned. “So you’re saying there’ll be a second?”

A beat. Just a pause. She didn’t answer right away.

Spencer, across the lot with Derek and Emily, had stopped mid-sentence, his entire expression shifted from mildly focused to openly horrified.

“She’s laughing,” he said flatly.

Emily glanced up from her notes. “Yeah, that tends to happen when people are enjoying themselves.”

“With him.”

“Oh no,” Derek muttered. “We’ve lost him.”

The rest of the team returned to the SUV, but Emily stayed behind, as if she knew this wasn't done yet.

“She’s laughing at his jokes,” Spencer repeated, eyes still locked on the two figures across the alley.

“She laughs at yours,” Emily said.

“That’s different. She knows mine are objectively not funny.”

“Okay, you know what?” Emily snapped her folder shut. “We’re doing this now. Let’s go, Genius.”

Spencer blinked as she grabbed his elbow and dragged him toward the SUV.

“What? No— I’m working.”

“You’re spiraling,” she corrected. “And doing it in a crime scene, which is new.”

Behind them, (Y/n) was still talking to Jake, standing closer now, arms crossed and leaning in like she didn’t even realize she was doing it.

Spencer’s voice dropped. “Emily, I’m fine.”

“You’re jealous,” she said, eyes sharp. “And for a guy who can read microexpressions from thirty feet away, you are shockingly bad at clocking your own.”

“I don’t get jealous,” he said, almost insulted.

She gave him a look.

“…Okay, I am jealous,” he admitted under his breath. “But I don’t know what to do about that.”

Emily leaned against the SUV, watching Spencer like she was trying to figure out whether she needed to slap sense into him or hug him. Maybe both. Probably both.

He was pacing. Not frantically, just… tightly. Hands in his pockets, jaw tense, doing that thing where his eyes tracked the ground like the answers were written there.

“I mean, it’s fine,” he said finally, like he was trying to convince the air. “She’s allowed to laugh at someone else’s jokes. I’m not— entitled to anything.”

Emily stayed quiet.

He glanced back at the alley where (Y/n) was standing with Jake. She was leaning on one foot, comfortable. She looked happy. And it gutted him.

“It’s just— he’s charming,” Spencer muttered. “And funny. And he’s got that whole casual swagger thing going on. I mean, who even has swagger in 2025? Apparently, Jake does. And she’s… she’s smiling.”

“You’re allowed to be upset,” Emily said, her voice soft, even.

Spencer didn’t answer. His hands were twitching in his pockets now.

“I’ve had… crushes,” he said finally, like it was painful to admit even that much. “A few. Not a lot. But some. And usually they’re easy to understand. You think someone’s cute. You like their voice. You want them to notice you.”

He shook his head.

“This isn’t that.”

Emily just watched him.

“I notice everything,” he went on, his voice quieter now. “Not because I’m profiling her. Not because I’m analyzing anything. I just… do. I know when she’s about to make a bad joke because she gets this look— like she’s proud of it already. I know she only pretends to like black coffee when we’re around local PD because she thinks it makes her look tougher.”

A pause. His voice dipped even lower.

“I know the sound of her laugh when it’s real. I know when she’s tired, even if she’s smiling. I know when she’s faking being okay. And I know when she’s actually okay. And I know that right now…” He looked up, eyes fixed on her across the lot, where she and Jake were still talking, still laughing.

“…She’s really okay. With him.”

Emily stepped closer, gentle. “Spence.”

He didn’t look at her.

“I think about her all the time,” he said, like he was just realizing it out loud. “Not in a way I… planned. Just— suddenly I’m at a bookstore and wondering if she’d like the cover of something. Or I hear a song and I can’t tell if I like it until I know if she would. It’s— constant.”

He laughed once, breathy and humorless. “And statistically, I know crushes fade. The brain adjusts. The novelty goes away. But this? This has been over a year. Maybe longer.”

Emily tilted her head. “And?”

Spencer blinked.

“…And I think I’m in love with her.”

A pause. Then—

“Oh,” he breathed. “Shit.”

Emily smiled, just barely. “Took you long enough.”

He ran both hands over his face. “I don’t— what am I supposed to do with that?”

“You tell her,” she said gently.

“What? No, I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Emily, she's quite possibly the closest friend I have. What if it ruins everything?”

Emily didn’t answer for a second. She just looked at him— really looked at him— and said, “Spencer. You're already miserable. At least ruin it with some dignity, damn it.”

He looked back at (Y/n). She was saying goodbye to Jake now, walking back toward the team, tucking her hair behind her ear like she always did when she was distracted. She looked like home.

Spencer exhaled. “Yeah. Okay. I’m completely screwed.”

Emily nodded. “Yeah. You are. Oh, and for the record, I thought I was your closest friend, and honestly, I feel so attacked right now."

"You'll live."

"Hey!" retorted Emily, followed by a smack to his arm.

——————————————————————————————————

The sun had dipped low, casting long shadows across the precinct lot. The case was wrapped, files turned in, media dodged. (Y/n) was leaning against the SUV, arms crossed, sipping from her now-cold coffee like it was still doing something.

Jake jogged up to her, slowing as he approached. Not suave. Just… trying.

“Hey,” he said, offering a lopsided smile. “So, weird question for the end of a triple homicide, but— any chance I could take you to dinner sometime?”

(Y/n) blinked. “Oh.”

She smiled, a little surprised. “Jake, you’re— great. I had fun working with you.”

Jake’s grin faltered just enough to be human. “But…?”

“But—”

“Wait!”

Both of them turned.

Spencer was standing about ten feet away, looking like he had sprinted here but didn’t want to show it. His hair was windswept, his shirt slightly crooked, and his expression somewhere between resolute and deeply alarmed.

(Y/n) blinked. “Spencer?”

Jake glanced between them. “Should I…? I can come back.”

“No, no,” Spencer said quickly, stepping forward. “You’re fine. I mean— not fine, you’re not staying. I mean, yes, you’re staying right now, I just—”

He looked at (Y/n), all the air gone from his lungs.

“I need to say something.”

(Y/n) tilted her head, cautious now. “Okay…”

Spencer glanced at Jake. Then at her. Then back at Jake.

“This is going to be weird with him here,” he muttered.

“I can pretend to be a lamp,” Jake offered, backing up slightly. “I’m excellent at furniture-based camouflage.”

“Jake,” (Y/n) said, half-laughing, “you don’t have to—”

“I really think I do,” he said, hands raised. “There’s a lot of emotion in the air and I don’t want to get hit by it.”

Spencer ignored him. His eyes stayed on her.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” he said softly. “I told myself it wasn’t the right time. That we had too much to lose. That maybe I was just… projecting.”

He swallowed. “But then I watched someone else get to make you laugh. I watched you lean in, and talk like he already belonged in your world. And I realized— I’ve been pretending that I didn’t already live there.”

(Y/n)’s breath caught.

Spencer took another step closer. “I know the way you look when you’re solving a puzzle you don’t know you’ve solved yet. I know how you take your coffee differently when you’re pretending you’re fine. I know that you hum when you’re reading case files, and that you’ll always find a way to make the worst days seem funny, just to keep us all going.”

He paused, voice low. “I notice everything about you. Not because I’m profiling you. Just… because it’s you.”

Jake mouthed oh my god to himself, backing up another step.

(Y/n) stared at Spencer, wide-eyed. “You— you’ve never said any of this.”

“I didn’t know how,” Spencer admitted. “But I’m in love with you. And it took me way too long to say it. So if you’re going to say no— please do it fast, before I combust.”

Silence.

Then—

“Spencer,” she said softly, stepping toward him. “You’re an idiot.”

His face fell— until she reached out and grabbed the front of his jacket and kissed him.

It was fast. Then slow. Then somewhere in between. Like they’d been waiting for years but were still trying to catch up.

Jake, standing off to the side, made a quiet choking sound.

“I am so intruding,” he muttered. “You know what? I’m gonna go. I’m gonna walk into the woods and never come back. I’ll start a new life. Join a wolf pack. Change my name. Just... yeah.”

They didn’t hear him.

(Y/n) pulled back just slightly, forehead still resting against Spencer’s.

“You’re in love with me?”

He nodded, breathless. “Deeply. Disastrously.”

She let out a laugh— half relief, half disbelief— as her forehead rested against his. “Oh, thank God. It was killing me thinking it might just be me.”

Jake was halfway to the sidewalk when Spencer called out— without looking—

“Thank you for not asking her out.”

Jake froze. “I did. You just… intercepted mid-sentence.”

Spencer blinked. “Oh. Sorry.”

Jake clapped once. “Well, that was the best romcom finale I’ve ever witnessed. I’m gonna go cry in my car.”

He turned again, walking toward his car like a man who had just lost a bet to fate.

God, I’m never gonna hear the end of this from Rosa.

[p1astr81]

just a prank - op81

in which: Lando has his friends over, and while his roommate is taking a shower, they decide to play a prank on her. Oscar is the one to come to her rescue.

pairing: Oscar Piastri x Lando’s roommate!reader

warnings: uni au, fluff, bullying lowkey, use of y/n, a little objectifying, my first fic on here so pls don’t be rude

‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧₊˚ ⋅* ‧₊ ‧

Y/N just got off work, and she desperately needed a shower.

Wanting to become a physiotherapist, she worked part-time at a private secondary school alongside the athletic trainer to make some money while she studied at uni. She was helping one of the football athletes. He’d sprained his ankle earlier in the season, and she was having him do a few exercises to rebuild his strength in that foot.

Long story short, three boys came in asking for her to tape up their knees. Before she could say anything, one of the boys “tripped” and spilled an entire can of Red Bull down the front of her. The nice football player offered his shirt to her, but she politely declined. She’d remained in the sticky clothes for the rest of the day. And as soon as she got home, she jumped in the shower.

Conveniently, her roommate, Lando Norris, forgot to tell her that he invited a bunch of his friends over. So a quarter of the way through her shower, the shared apartment became filled with boys.

“What is taking her so long? I have to piss,” Keegan complained. Lando just shrugged. “Oh!” Carlos exclaimed, like a lightbulb just went off in his head. “Let’s play a prank on her.” He suggested. “Like turn off the lights?” Max Fewtrell asked. “Or turn off her music.” Ginge grumbled. The pop music was blasting, filling the apartment with the vocals of various pop girls.

“I was thinking more like take her clothes,” Carlos said, a mischievous tone about his voice. Lando laughed. “Just say you want to see my roommate naked, mate.”

Oscar thought they should leave her be, but he wasn’t friends with everyone in the room. Only Lando. And he didn’t want to be labeled as a kill joy, so he stayed silent.

“It’s not just me, I think everyone wants a piece of her.” Carlos defended himself, glancing at the others in the room who hesitantly nodded along—well, except for Oscar. “You’ve got your share already, haven’t you?”

Lando shook his head. “Nope, she sees me as a ‘friend’.” He shared, unamused. The room winced at the fact he’d been friendzoned. Carlos got up from the couch, and headed down the hallway where the bathroom was located.

Y/N heard the door open and groaned. “Lando how many times do I have to tell you, you have to knock before coming in.” You scolded, but instead of the usual sassy response you’d receive, it was silence. The door clicked closed, and you peaked your head out, not noticing anything different immediately.

Carlos emerged from the hallway. “Got the clothes, and the towel.” He held up the items proudly. The group of them cheered. Something inside Oscar’s stomach twisted. These aren’t the people he thought he befriended.

after around fifteen minutes, the shower water turned off, and her music followed quickly after. “Lando!” She shouted but got no reply. So she stuck her head out of the door. “Lando! Give me my stuff back!” She demanded. This time, she was met with laughter. She quickly realized it wasn’t just Lando in the apartment. Panic set in.

Her roommate seeing her without clothes on was one thing. She could live with that embarrassment. He accidentally walked in on her changing once before. But by the sounds of it, there were at least five other people out there. The status of their phones—whether they would be recording or not—was completely unknown to her.

She shut the bathroom door, and began scheming. Her first thought was the shower curtains, but the rust had fused the clips of the cheap hangers together. She could use the hand towel, but that wouldn’t cover much. Toilet paper wasn’t an option, as there was so little left in the roll that it would help just about as much as the hand towel. She was left with pleading.

She stuck her head out the door again. “Lando, come on. Just give me a bath towel at least.” All she heard was laughter. “I’ll buy you take-away for a week.” She tried to bargain. Again, only laughter. She huffed. Knowing most of Lando’s friends were pining after her, she tried to bargain with, “I’ll kiss every one of you if you just give me a towel.” There was no laughter immediately, as if they were actually considering it. It gave her a little bit of hope. But it shattered moments later as they began to laugh again.

Seeing as bargaining didn’t work, she was reduced to begging. “Lando, please.” They only laughed harder, but their laughter was soon replaced with cries of disappointment. “Mate, don’t.” “Come one man don’t be a wet blanket.” “Dude she was gonna have to come out eventually.”

Her saving grace appeared at the end of the hallway, her towel in his hands. While the hallway was dimly lit, the floppy hair on his head couldn’t be mistaken for anyone else. Oscar was always her favorite out of all Lando’s friends.

He stopped in front of her. The bathroom light illuminated his face enough for her to see his small smile. “Thank you so much.” Her words came out with a sigh of gratitude. His smile widened as he nodded, his hair flopping along with his head.

She closed the door on him, and re-emerged seconds later with the towel wrapped about her. “Oscar,” she called to the man who was stood at the end of the hall. He turned to her with a raised brow as she caught up with him. She took his arm, passing the group of booing boys on the way to her bedroom.

She brought Oscar into her room and locked the door behind them. “Oh, no. I didn’t do that to get anything in return.” He quickly said, his eyes wide. He did not want her to feel like she was obligated to give him something.

“Trust me, I know.” She smiled. “You’ve always been my favorite out of all of Lando’s friends. You’re the only polite one.” She shared while digging through her dresser for new pajamas. Carlos was still holding her other ones hostage.

“Oh, uhm, thanks.” He scratched the back of his neck. He was looking everywhere except at her. “Turn around for me.” She requested, and he quickly listened.

His cheeks went red when he heard her towel drop. He wanted to take a peak. Like the other boys, he did think you were very attractive. But unlike the other boys would have, he didn’t try to steal a glance at you. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re very good looking?” She asked.

“My grandma called me handsome once.” He shared. Her laughter rang out, the angelic sound floating right to his ears and making his head feel a little lighter. “Funny, good looking, and polite. It’s a wonder you haven’t been locked down yet.” She laughed again.

Oscar didn’t know what to say to that, so he just laughed awkwardly. “I’m sorry, I’m probably making this really weird. I just wanted to thank you.” She apologized, her voice sincere. Oscar shook his head quickly. “It’s not weird, and you don’t need to thank me.” She heard in his voice how nervous he was, and smiled softly at him. “You can turn around now, by the way.” He did, and bit back a laugh at the set of hot-pink pug pajamas she’d put on. “Don’t laugh. They’re all I have clean.” She sighed.

“‘M not laughing.” He stated, though his voice was very clearly on the verge of breaking into hysterics. He couldn’t help it, and after a few seconds let out a little chuckle. “Yeah, alright. You can get back to your friends now. Sorry for keeping you.”

“Eh,” Oscar stammered. “I’m a bit afraid to go back out there, if I’m honest.” He confessed with a nervous glance toward the door. She shrugged. “You could stay here with me. I don’t mind. I was just going to watch a few episodes of Brooklyn 99 before going to sleep.”

He hesitated. “If you truly don’t mind.” She shook her head and scooted over to make room for him in the bed next to her.

Morning arrived, and when Oscar stretched his limbs, he found himself unable to move a great part of the left side of his body. Glancing down to investigate the problem, he found y/n at it’s source. He realized he never left her room last night, and as a result, they fell asleep together.

Slowly, he sunk back into the mattress, doing his best to keep her from waking. She looks inexplicably tranquil beside him. A small smile graced her lips as her head laid on his chest. An arm of hers was draped across his torso, and she had a leg laying cross his, disabling his ability to move them freely. He didn’t mind, though. In fact, he found himself at peace.

Despite his attempt at not disturbing her, she began to stir. She blinked repeatedly, trying to wake herself up. She let out a sigh before lifting her eyelids. She looked up at Oscar through her lashes. “Oh,” she muttered, lazily pulling herself away from him. “Sorry about that.” She apologized. Oscar found her groggy voice somewhat endearing. “I suppose you should get going, then.” She stood, stretching her arms toward the sky.

Oscar nodded. “Only if you let me take you out tonight.” He didn’t know where the confidence came from, and as soon as he got the words out, he began apologizing. “I’m so sorry. I’m not normally- I didn’t mean-“

“Yes, I’ll go on a date with you.” She interrupted his fumbling, smiling warmly at him. “I’ll walk you out.”

On their way out, they passed Lando, who was toasting pop tarts. “Have a fun night?” He asked bitterly.

“Calm down, we didn’t fuck.” She rolled her eyes before adding, “If we did, you definitely would’ve heard.”

“Yeah, whatever.” He waved her off. “All the guys aren’t too fond of you now.” He told Oscar, who shrugged. “They’re not the kind of blokes I care to be friends with, anyway.” Y/n smiled up at him.

“Oh!” She hummed, facing Lando. “and you’re going to have to cook your own food tonight. We’re going out.”

Lando rolled his eyes as the toaster popped from behind him.

[rosietherivendell]

My whole neighborhood just lost power for like 10 minutes I'm not sure I've ever experienced a blackout that wasn't from a storm and I'm not sure I've ever experienced one where I couldn't even see light from the next street over like I couldn't even see the movie theater's sign that I usually see from my window

[shidoglazer]

#1 fan

bllk boys drabble fluff getting merch of them ＠shidoglazer

ft : sae , rin , kaiser

｜ sae itoshi

“saeeee?” you called out your boyfriend’s name, your voice echoing throughout the shared apartment, it doesn’t take long for sae to emerge from his bedroom, head popping out.

“hn?” he walked over to you at the living room, staring at the comedically large shopping bag you had on your lap. you were trying hard to keep your giggles in as you slowly plucked off the tape on the bag. “i assume you had a good shopping trip? though, i’ll praise you for spending less tha-….ah..”

his voice slowly trailed off as you pulled out a large plushie of him, he was in a seagull costume and had that iconic chibi sae face, holding it in both your hands proudly while he looked at it as if it just murdered his whole family. “look! isn’t he cute?? i was at the arcade just now and they let me exchange my tickets for this!” you giggled, now holding the plushie close to your chest.

“….i wouldn’t say cute. its a monstrosity. i’d never wear a seagull costume, let alone make .. that face. throw it away.” you gasped in offence, covering the plushies ears as if it was a child. “don’t say that about him! he didn’t do anything wrong!”

sae rolled his eyes dramatically, sitting next to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek. “what is this, hm? itoshi junior? your replacement for me whenever i’m gone for matches? i’m hurt.” he asked with mock hurt twinged in his voice as you giggled, leaning into his body.

“i should replace you with him completely. cuter and quieter!”

“excuse me?” “you heard me.”

｜ rin itoshi

“rinnie?” your head perked into his bedroom, he was curled up on his chair as his fingers clacked away on his keyboard, playing a horror game. he let out a hum to acknowledge you before saving his progress and turning off the game, turning his gaming chair towards you, “yeah. what is it?”

a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you stepped into his room, hands behind your back, suspiciously hiding something from him. his eyes narrowed at you as you walked towards him, showcasing a round, fat, chibi rin plush keychain that fit in the palm of your hand as you giggled to yourself. “look! i can hang it on my bag-” “is that supposed to be me?” “uhuh!”

he took the keychain from your hand, analysing it as if it was the greatest masterpiece he’s ever seen. “..where’d you buy this? its unappealing to the eye.” “i saw it at a little street vendor, it was only like what, 3,000 yen?” if you squinted your eyes, you’d be able to see rins feet kicking softly out of happiness, even when his words didn’t match with it.

rin continued staring at it despite basically saying it was ugly, as if he was hesitating to say something. “lukewarm. don’t buy this type of stuff again.” and yet despite that, he didn’t hand it back to you, no. he grabbed the ring of the chain and hung it beside his pc as if it was his greatest achievement.

“aaawweee!! you like it! rin likes fat chibi plushies of hi—” he quickly shut your mouth by standing up out of nowhere and throwing you both on the bed, his hand gripping your jaw softly to kiss you. “you run that mouth a lot huh.” another kiss “buying stupid plushies when the real one is right here.” another kiss “wasting your damn money.” another kiss.

“..maybe i should buy more next time.” “tch, brat.” another kiss. <3

｜ michael kaiser

“misha!!” you pounced on your boyfriend as soon as he got home from practice, not even have put down his bag yet.

“hello to you too, sweets. what’s the special occasion hm? never seen you so excited to see me before.” he placed down his bag carelessly before both of his hands reached to your inner thighs to grab a hold of you, walking over to the bedroom and placing you down onto the bed.

“i bought something for you when i was at the market today!”

“is that so? show me then.” you tried to hide your evil giggle as you crawled up, heading over to one of the plastic bags on the desk, rummaging through it while kaiser stood there with his arms folded, waiting for you to finish digging through the swarms of newly bought items. after awhile, you pulled out a shirt and proudly showed him, the initial smug expression on his face replaced completely with one of blank eyes and lips falling into a straight line.

“I <3 MICHAEL KAISER” was written on the front, poorly cut pngs of him placed all over on the shirt, and the back of the shirt .. a fan art of kaiser sitting on a throne with over exaggerated jewellery around him while he was holding a big golden sword.

“isn’t it cool?! you should wear it!”

silence. pure silence from him.

“…it’s fun to look at, sure. how about you give it to me, yeah? i’ll analyse it after my shower.” he quickly took the shirt from you and immediately headed to the bathroom, not even giving you a chance to respond as he disappeared from your sight. and for some mysterious reason, ever since that day, the shirts been completely missing. how? kaiser threw it out of the bathroom window, obviously. he didn’t have the heart to say “it’s disgusting, a monstrosity. who would even draw me like that? i know i’m the best, liebe, but they couldve at LEAST made me look better. don’t ever show me this type of shit ever again, burn it.” in front of you!

★ masterlist

visual representations btw LOL

[dreamsteddie]

Background character Eddie, seasons 1-3, who's crush heightened awareness of Steve due to his proximity to the crowd Eddie loathes leads him to making several theories about the odd stuff happening in Hawkins.

Every theory is incorrect. Just completely off the mark.

After season one, he overhears people talking about Will Byers and knows that Steve got the shit beat out of him by Jonathan and figures pretty much what everyone else does. But then, he catches all three of them hanging out in secluded corners, whispering quetly and leaning, pulling apart swiftly the couple of times they notice him, and he gets other ideas.

He knows Barb went missing, and rumor has it she was last seen by Nancy at the Harrington house. Everyone seems to have brushed it off, the search ongoing, but Eddie gets it in his head that maybe they should look again. He pokes around the Harrington house a couple of times at night, but never finds anything besides a closed pool.

When season two happens and the whole thing with Hawkin's Lab is revealed, he feels both relieved and a little dejected. He really thought he cracked something there, and thinking Steve might have been a murderer was really doing wonders to squash his crush.

But now Eddie is convinced that the leak reached the Harrington house too, because nothing else explains the sudden change in personality. He's actually convinced that everyone in town is slowly being poisoned because so many people are acting strange these days, talking about feral rats and murdered journalists and the bad omen of Halloween.

Eddie makes monthly trips to the closest city for almost a year, demanding that Wayne and him only drink the bottled stuff. He tries to get his friends to do it too, but they all argue that if the water was poisoned, they'd all already be dead anyway.

Eddie has a very complicated home set up for music that includes some pretty powerful radio equipment, knowledge provided courtesy Scott Clark's AV club back in the day, to pick up radio channels from the bigger cities. One day he's surfing for some new channels when he picks up some strange frequencies. It's gibberish to him, but he's pretty sure it's some kind of language.

He makes the guys come over and try to figure it out, and they identify it as Russian pretty quickly. Their combined efforts only get them a couple of strange words before it abruptly cuts off. Less than an hour later, they're all getting the emergency broadcast about Starcourt burning down.

Eddie doesn't believe for a second that it is a coincidence, and with Steve and his merry gang being the only survivors, he knows he has to be involved somehow.

He's always wondered why Steve had to have a job with parents as reach and influential as the Harringtons. One late night while he's ruminating on it in his bed, it hits him.

The Russian Mob! Steve and his family must be involved! That's gotta be it!

[super-lovely-star]

Things to Put in a Middle/Kidre Bag

A handheld gaming system like a switch or a DS and some games to play on it

Small toys and trinkets to keep you company while you’re out and about

A digital camera or camcorder, so you can still capture moments without getting distracted by your phone

Comfort items like a fidget, paci, or something like that because even big kids have comfort items

A plushie that’s small enough to fit inside the bag

Yummy snacks like chips or gummies just in case you get hungry

A cool water bottle filled with your favorite drink so you can stay hydrated

Age appropriate makeup (if you wear any)

A sketchbook, notebook, or activity book, and some crayons or pencils to keep you occupied

A small, easy to read chapter book if you’re going on a longer trip

Cute keychains and pin buttons to personalize it and show off your awesome style

Lastly, important stuff like your medicine, wallet, glasses, or emergency supplies

If you can think of anything else, feel free to mention it!

[sirxaibs]

Batfamily X Batmom!Reader

⁺‧₊˚My Sons Boyfriend⁺‧₊˚

Continuing my tim appreciation, Have a silly overprotective parents to one of their youngest kid

masterlist

Jason tattles that his younger brother has a boy over.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺ The TV played some noir film neither of you were paying attention to black and white shadows flickering across the screen, the occasional husky voice of a detective muttering something about dames and danger. It was background noise. Everything was background noise right now.

Your back arched against the couch as Bruce’s lips trailed from your mouth to your jaw, his stubble scraping deliciously along your skin. You let out a soft, breathy laugh, tangled up in him, your knees bracketing his hips while his large hands gripped your thighs beneath the hem of your oversized shirt.

His tongue slid against yours again, deep and slow, and the kiss had long since lost any sense of restraint. You tugged at his shirt, fingers skimming up beneath it, palms exploring every inch of familiar skin. Bruce growled low in his throat, the sound rumbling against your lips as he leaned further into you, pressing you back until your spine met the couch cushions with a soft thump.

There were no patrols, no emergency calls, no villains trying to blow up the city and a damn good excuse to indulge in weeks of pent up affection with no one around to ruin it.

“What the fuck?!”

A voice cracked through the air like a gunshot, and both of you froze mid kiss, mouths still a breath apart, panting and flushed. Well no one around to ruin might not work if you have a Jason Todd for a child (even though hes an adult it still applies).

You didn’t even turn around.

“It’s a lazy day,” you said flatly, lips still swollen, one hand still fisted in Bruce’s shirt. “Go away.”

Jason’s voice rose another octave, and you could hear the trauma in it. “Are you two seriously making out like that on the living room couch? In the middle of the day?! seriously making out like teenagers right now?! I’ve seen less tongue in French films!”

You rolled your eyes and finally sat up, sliding off Bruce’s lap with a groan and adjusting your shirt though it didn’t help much. Bruce just rubbed at his face with one hand, exhaling through his nose like a man trying not to start swearing. Jason stormed around the couch, eyes narrowed, nose wrinkled. “You were all over each other! That was full on pre bedroom behavior!”

“Which we would’ve moved to,” you muttered, “we only do stuff out here when you guys for sure aren’t.”

“TMI LADY!! I live here!”

“So do we.”

“I grew up here! Do you know how many times I’ve had to walk in on emotionally scarring things? And now I have to add this to the list?”

You gave him a pointed look and gestured vaguely to Bruce, who was still slouched and half hard under the sweatpants. “You’re twenty something and you’ve walked in on worse. Remember the time you accidentally opened the panic room during our anniversary trip?”

Jason gagged. “Why would you bring that up?! I had finally repressed it!”

You shrugged, completely unfazed. “That’s why I didn’t jump out of my skin when you yelled. You’re one of the oldest. You’re basically numb to it by now.”

“That’s not how trauma works!”

“You’ll live.”

Bruce finally stood, setting a firm hand on your lower back as he stepped forward. “Did you interrupt just to complain, or is there a point?”

“Oh, there’s a point,” Jason said, smirking now, even as he pointedly avoided making eye contact with either of you. “Tim’s upstairs. With Conner. Door closed. Voices low. Lots of awkward pauses and ‘I dunno, what do you wanna do?’s. Figured someone with authority should stop it before I need a bleach rinse for my brain again.”

You and Bruce exchanged a glance. You raised a brow. “You think they’re…?”

“I’m just saying, I’m not doing the awkward sex talk with either of them. That’s your job.”

Bruce sighed through his nose again, rubbing his temples. “We should’ve eloped in Fiji.”

Jason clapped him on the shoulder as he passed. “You should’ve invested in a deadbolt and soundproof walls. You’ve got like fifty rooms. Go be gross in literally any other one.”

Bruce groaned, sitting up with the pained weariness of a man who just wanted five uninterrupted minutes with his partner. “I don’t know what’s worse,” he muttered. “You barging in, or the fact that you’re tattling like a six year old.”

Jason raised an eyebrow. “You can ground me later. But someone needs to knock before that kid goes full hormonal teenager with Superman’s clone.”

You rubbed your temples and slid off Bruce’s lap. “Can’t we just go one day without something weird happening in this house?”

“Nope,” Jason chirped.

Bruce stood, adjusting his shirt and shooting Jason a tired glare. “You’re not getting a thank you for this.”

Jason grinned. “I’ll settle for watching the fallout.”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

The carpet was soft beneath your knees as you crouched near the top of the staircase, one hand gripping the railing and the other latched around your husband’s wrist. Bruce was not thrilled. “This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath, towering behind you in full grumpy dad form.

You shushed him. “Shh. This is important. Our son is dating.”

Bruce arched an eyebrow. “He’s not a child anymore.”

You gasped loudly and dramatically, a feeling attune like he’d just slapped you with a divorce paper. “How dare you say that to a mother’s face.”

“I feel like as a mother you should be letting him have space” he whispered dryly.

“It’s anything and everything for my baby,” you whispered back, “heartbroken.”

Bruce sighed, letting you pull him forward like some six foot tall human leash. He followed behind you, slouched and sulking like a teenager being dragged into a parent teacher conference. But he didn’t resist. Not really. At the end of the hallway, just far enough not to be heard but perfectly in view, Tim was standing awkwardly with his shoulder slightly bumping against the wall, halfway through some rambling sentence that didn’t seem to have an end. Across from him leaned Conner Kent Superboy himself smiling with the easy, confident charm of someone who knew exactly how good he looked.

You gasped again, softer this time. “He’s so nervous. Look at him. Our baby…”

“Don’t start crying,” Bruce warned.

“He’s got no game, Bruce.”

Bruce squinted. “…This is objectively better than his brothers.”

You nearly cackled. “Low bar, sweetheart.”

Tim fumbled again, scratching the back of his neck while trying to not look directly at Conner. Conner leaned in just slightly, arms crossed as he nodded along, totally relaxed. He said something with a grin, and Tim laughed clearly too loud, then looked down at the floor in horror.

You sniffled, eyes shimmering. “Look at our baby flirting…”

“He’s not a baby,” Bruce said, though his voice was quieter now. “He’s nearly eighteen.” And yet, he leaned a little more over your shoulder.

You smirked. “You’re watching.”

“I’m observing.”

“You’re parenting.”

Bruce sighed like the weight of the world was on his shoulders, crossing his arms as he stared harder at the two teens.

“What’s Kent’s clone doing here alone with him anyways?” he muttered, eyes narrowing.

“Ohhh,” you grinned, “now you care.”

“Of course I care,” Bruce snapped, more defensive than he meant to be. “That’s my kid.”

You nudged him with your elbow, whispering proudly, “Our kid.”

He didn’t respond to that but the corner of his mouth twitched. Down the hall, Conner leaned in and brushed something off Tim’s shirt something that wasn’t there. Tim went red, practically short circuiting.

Bruce straightened immediately. “Okay. That’s enough recon.”

“Oh, now it’s enough?”

“I’m getting my Batarangs.”

You caught his wrist before he could march off. “No. No Batarangs. No Bat glare. You said he’s not a baby, remember?”

“He wasn’t getting flirted with then.”

You snorted, still holding his arm. “I think your overprotective thing is hot.”

He paused. “That a fact?”

You smirked, glancing back toward your bedroom door. “Yes. Now let’s go back to our room lights off, no clothes, door locked this time and let the kids be kids.”

Bruce gave Tim and Conner one last skeptical look, then sighed. “If they start kissing, I’m interrupting.”

“No you won’t,” you said, dragging him back down the hall by the wrist again. “Because I’ll be too busy making out with you to let you get up.”

Despite that, the minute you headed to the room. Conner and Tim were happily walking towards the kitchen. making you drag your husband again to watch your boy. The kitchen was dimly lit, the only real noise coming from the soft hum of the refrigerator and the occasional rustle of snack bags. You and Bruce had found your new favorite spot behind the kitchen island, crouching low and trying your best not to make a sound, despite the undeniable excitement of spying on your son.

You had your phone held up, recording through the cabinet doors like a proud wildlife documentarian. Tim and Conner were in the next room, chattering nervously while they raided the pantry for snacks.

Bruce was less than impressed with the situation. “You’re unbelievable,” he muttered, glaring at you as if you were the one causing trouble.

You smirked, eyes never leaving the scene unfolding in the next room. “I practically raised him. I have the right to witness his first love.”

He grunted, his voice tinged with mild exasperation. “You’re literally crouched next to the coffee machine whispering commentary like it’s National Geographic.”

You held your phone at a slightly different angle, zooming in on Tim as he fumbled with a bag of chips. “And you’re crouched next to me, so what does that make you?”

Bruce looked at you, deadpan. “An unwilling accomplice.”

You shot him a look, trying not to giggle as you saw Tim’s hand hover uncertainly over a box of cookies while Conner casually leaned against the counter, looking way too smooth for someone who was probably still a teenager.

“Conner’s definitely a pro at this,” you whispered, shaking your head in amused disbelief. “Look at him, just leaning there. Like it’s nothing what if he just wants to play woth out boys feelings.”

Bruce sighed dramatically but didn’t move. “I can’t believe you’re doing this.”

“This is serious, Bruce. It’s parental responsibility.”

Bruce looked at you, his eyes softening. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“Yeah, well, you love me.” You raised an eyebrow at him.

“I’ve got a lot of regrets today,” he muttered, but his hand brushed against yours in the dim light, soft and reassuring. Just as you were about to comment on Tim’s awkward attempt at getting a cookie into his mouth without looking too desperate, the kitchen door swung open with a familiar creak.

“Are you spying on Tim?” Dick’s voice rang through the space, sharp and amused.

Both you and Bruce froze, immediately making eye contact in a way that could only be described as a guilty deer caught in headlights moment.

Bruce was the first to recover. He straightened up quickly, stepping away from the island and crossing his arms like he was trying to physically distance himself from the ridiculousness of it all. “No,” he said instantly, as if the word would somehow erase the whole scene.

You, on the other hand, didn’t try to hide it. You looked up at Dick with wide, unapologetic eyes. “Yes,” you said, shrugging as though this was completely normal behavior for a concerned parent.

Dick raised an eyebrow, crossing his arms as he leaned against the doorframe with a smug grin. “You guys are so lame.”

You grinned back, unbothered by his teasing. “You think we’re lame, but when you’re a parent, you’ll understand.”

Bruce, clearly not keen on the whole ordeal, shot a look at Tim and Conner through the kitchen entryway. “I’m just making sure he’s not making any… stupid decisions.”

“Right.” Dick’s tone dripped with sarcasm. “Because you’re both really qualified for that.”

You shot him a sideways glance. “Hey, we did the best we could. And this is where you come in. Don’t think I didn’t see you sneak a peek when you thought we weren’t looking.”

Dick’s eyes widened for a second before he cracked a grin. “You two are hopeless.” He turned his attention back to the other room. “What are they even doing, anyway?”

You and Bruce both turned to look through the cabinets again, slightly distracted now that Dick was standing right there. Tim was holding a cookie out to Conner, his fingers trembling slightly, and Conner took it with a grin that could melt even the iciest heart.

“He’s handing Conner a cookie,” you said, your voice dripping with awe and mild concern. “A cookie. They’re not even talking about something deep or meaningful, like… I don’t know, saving Gotham or discussing conspiracy theories. It’s literally just this.”

Dick raised an eyebrow again, his grin widening. “You’re really invested in this?”

Bruce was rubbing the back of his neck, clearly torn between indulging your parental instincts and the embarrassment of being caught in such an absurd situation. “Yeah, we’re not stalking them. Just… observing.”

Dick snorted. “Sure, sure. Watching them like they’re some rare, endangered species.”

You looked at him deadpan. “They are.”

Bruce cleared his throat. “Look, we’ll stop when they stop… getting… weird.”

Dick gave the two of you an incredulous look. “You two are so ridiculous. Seriously.”

And with that, Dick pushed past you both to head upstairs, but not before he paused to make one last comment.

“If I ever catch you two creeping on me like this, I’ll start a family group chat called ‘Creepy Parents.’”

You and Bruce exchanged an amused glance. “We’ll take that risk,” you said,

Dick groaned, clearly not interested in sticking around for the ridiculousness, and disappeared upstairs.

You looked back at Bruce, who was still watching Tim and Conner, now in full parental protective mode. His brows were furrowed, a slight frown tugging at his lips.

“I guess we’re just going to wait this out?” you asked softly, leaning against the island.

Bruce nodded, but his tone was softer now, full of that deep, unspoken love only a parent could understand. “Yeah. But we need to be the ones to have that talk when they’re ready.”

You smiled, leaning into him, the whole world feeling a little less chaotic, even if the kids’ drama would never stop.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Tim and Conner were sitting at the kitchen table now, their snack raid completed, with Conner casually leaning back in his chair, kicking his feet up on the seat across from him. Tim, on the other hand, was picking at his cookie, his eyes occasionally flicking nervously around the room.

Conner noticed Tim’s unease and raised an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Drake?”

Tim cleared his throat, his gaze shifting quickly toward the hallway, and then back to Conner, hoping his casual demeanor would mask the slight panic he felt. “Uh, no, everything’s fine.”

Conner smirked knowingly, crossing his arms over his chest. “You sure about that? ‘Cause I can’t help but notice your… parents have been acting a little weird.”

Tim froze. His heart rate quickened as the words hit him. He blinked at Conner, unsure if he’d heard him right. “What?”

“You know, they’ve been hanging around for a while,” Conner said, a slight laugh escaping his lips. “I can’t believe they’re still hiding behind the kitchen island.”

Tim’s face went white, of course he noticed it. his eyes darted toward the kitchen counter, his heart sinking into his stomach. His parents… They had been watching this whole time. He quickly looked away, pretending he hadn’t heard anything, his eyes shifting uncomfortably as if he could pretend that the observation had never been made. “You’re imagining things.”

Conner raised an eyebrow. “Right,” he said, unconvinced. “Maybe I am.”

But before Tim could settle into any sense of relief, he couldn’t help himself. His eyes glanced toward the cabinets, toward the hidden space behind the island where his parents had been crouched like secret agents, but the moment he saw something shift in the shadows, he quickly turned his head away. A blush spread across his cheeks, a mix of embarrassment and frustration bubbling up inside him.

He heard a muffled whisper coming from the kitchen, the faintest sound of your voice saying, “Do you think they noticed?”

His heart skipped. He knew they were there. He immediately looked back at Conner, who was now wearing an almost triumphant smirk, clearly enjoying this entire awkward exchange.

Tim’s face reddened even further. “Ugh, I hate you.”

Conner’s grin widened, but he didn’t press the issue. Instead, he leaned back in his chair, arms still crossed, looking like he was thoroughly enjoying the chaos Tim was going through. “your family is so weird”

Tim just buried his face in his hands for a second, trying to collect himself. It didn’t help that he could hear the whispering getting louder, still faint, but unmistakable. “No way. I think they didn’t notice. Maybe we can sneak away after they leave…”

“We?” Tim thought he heard Bruce’s voice this time. It made him stiffen.

His face was now a bright red, and he buried his face further into his arms, hoping it might all just go away. He could feel the heat creeping up his neck, his pulse racing. This was so embarrassing. Why couldn’t they have just left him alone? Why did his parents have to be so… so overly protective?

As his embarrassment grew, Tim stole another quick glance at the kitchen, only to see a shadow dart behind the cabinets. His stomach flipped, and he quickly turned away, biting his lip to keep from saying something he’d regret.

Conner’s eyes were sharp. “Yeah… they totally noticed,” he said, voice dripping with amusement. “You’re lucky I’m cool with this. You’re lucky I didn’t go tell them they’ve been caught. That would’ve been funny.”

“Conner, shut up!” Tim hissed, but the laughter that followed didn’t make it any better.

Somewhere from behind the cabinets, you whispered again, louder this time, “Maybe they’ll pretend they didn’t see us.”

Bruce’s voice was closer to a growl. “We’re being subtle, right?”

Tim’s body stiffened again, but this time he was ready. He shot up from his chair and took a deep breath. There was no going back now. “I’m going upstairs. You’re all insane.”

Conner chuckled, watching him go, clearly having the time of his life while Tim fumbled his way toward the hallway.

As Tim rushed out of the room, trying to hide the heat in his cheeks, you and Bruce exchanged a glance from your hiding spot, then reluctantly peeked around the corner to make sure your son had left the kitchen.

“We should’ve just went in our room,” you muttered, sounding almost defeated.

Bruce nodded, glancing up at you. “This is why I wanted to go back to the room.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you couldn’t let that go?”

Bruce sighed, shaking his head. “I can’t believe we’ve been caught so many times.”

“But it’s worth it, right?” You flashed a teasing grin at him, clearly finding amusement in the awkwardness.

Bruce didn’t respond immediately, but he didn’t move either. He just kept watching the empty kitchen, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

Finally, he said, “I’d still rather be making out with you right now.”

You grinned. “One thing at a time, Bruce. One thing at a time.”

Bruce didn’t waste a second. The moment the last of Tim’s and conner’s footsteps faded up the stairs, he was on his feet, his usual quiet intensity shifting into something more playful albeit with a touch of authority.

Without a word, he moved toward you, his hand reaching for your wrist. Before you could even fully register his intent, he pulled you into his chest, his other hand gently cupping your chin as he tilted your face up to meet his. His lips were almost on yours, just inches apart, but he hesitated for a fraction of a second, as if savoring the moment.

“As much fun as that was,” he said in a low, husky tone, his voice thick with amusement, “it’s time for mommy and daddy time.”

Your heart skipped. You had to admit, despite the awkwardness of everything that just happened, the sudden shift in Bruce’s demeanor made your pulse spike. The playful tension in the air was thick enough to cut through. You could see the flicker of mischief in his eyes.

“Bruce…” you whispered, half trying to resist, half already giving in.

“Our boy will be fine” His voice was low, but there was a firm edge to it, a reminder that your playful surveillance time had come to an end. “You and me. Upstairs. Now.”

Before you could protest or offer some sarcastic response, he was already guiding you away from the kitchen island, his hand firm around your wrist. The way his grip tightened made it clear he wasn’t going to take no for an answer not that you really wanted to resist.

“Bruce, we can’t just…” you started to say, but you were quickly cut off as he kissed you, his lips catching yours in a brief, but intense press that stole your breath away.

He pulled back just enough to murmur, “No more distractions. No more spying. Just us.”

You were about to make a snarky comment, but all the words caught in your throat when he pulled you against him again, his arms wrapping around your waist. You could feel the heat radiating from his body, the way his strong frame seemed to draw you in closer.

“I’m not letting you get away that easily,” he said with a grin, his fingers finding the hem of your shirt, the playful glint in his eyes unmistakable.

Your breath caught as you felt his touch, suddenly aware of how much you’d been craving this intimate moment. The tension that had been building throughout the entire day between your kids, the spying, the ridiculousness was finally going to melt away, leaving just the two of you.

With a final, teasing smile, Bruce began leading you upstairs, his hand never leaving yours. The world outside your bedroom had faded into the background there was only him and you, and the quiet promise of some much needed time alone.

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺

Tim was lying face down on his bed, groaning into the sheets. If he could dig a hole and disappear into it, he would. He’d half expected his parents to hover maybe ask a few awkward questions. But full on mission mode surveillance? That was next level.

The door creaked open, and Tim didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

“I knew they were weird,” Conner’s voice came, all smug and sing songy. “But hiding behind the cabinets? thats weird.”

Tim rolled over with a groan, face still half buried in a pillow. “Can we not talk about it?”

Conner stepped in like he owned the place, casually flopping onto Tim’s bed with zero regard for personal space. “Dude, your mom was crouched like it was recon. I think she even whispered something about your ‘game.’ I’m emotionally scarred.”

Conner, of course, wasn’t far behind. He opened the door without knocking and stepped into the room, his usual easygoing grin plastered across his face. But there was something different in his eyes something softer. Maybe he was trying to ease the tension Tim was still feeling.

“You good?” Conner asked, leaning against the doorframe.

Tim turned his head just slightly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just… I dunno, everything’s just kinda weird today.”

“Yeah, I noticed,” Conner chuckled, but it wasn’t a mocking laugh. It was more of an understanding one. “Your parents… they’re something else.”

Tim groaned and rolled onto his back, covering his eyes with his arm. “Don’t remind me. I didn’t think they’d go full surveillance mode.”

Conner moved further into the room, sitting at the edge of the bed. “Well, they’re just looking out for you, you know? They’re probably a little overprotective, but… I mean, I guess I’d do the same thing if I were them.”

Tim half smiled at that, finally sitting up. “Yeah, but it’s a little much. I’m almost eighteen, not, like, seven.”

Conner gave him a side glance, his smile still there. “Right. You’re allowed to… y’know, have a life outside of your parents’ radar.”

“Thanks for the reminder,” Tim muttered, but it wasn’t with annoyance more like he appreciated Conner’s effort to lighten the mood. Tim glanced at Conner, his mind wandering as it often did when he was around him. Something about the way Conner carried himself, the way he was always so relaxed, so at ease it was easy to get lost in.

Conner seemed to sense it, his voice dropping a little lower. “So, uh… are you sure it’s just your parents that’s got you flustered? Or is it… something else?”

Tim blinked at him, caught off guard. “What do you mean?”

Conner leaned back against the headboard, looking over at him with a teasing smile. “I don’t know, just seems like you’ve got a lot going on in your head. And I mean, I did see how red your face was back there, so”

Tim immediately turned even more red. “Conner, I swear to God”

“Okay, okay, fine,” Conner laughed, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I won’t make it worse. But, uh… you do know you can talk to me, right?”

Tim let out a soft exhale, unsure of how to respond. He didn’t even realize how much he’d needed to hear that until now. “Yeah. I guess I just… didn’t want to make it weird.”

“Making it weird is kind of my thing,” Conner joked, but there was something reassuring about the way he said it like he wasn’t trying to force the conversation, but also wasn’t afraid to be open with him. Tim’s heart skipped a little at the casual warmth in Conner’s voice. He wasn’t sure if it was the way Conner was looking at him now, or just the comfort of knowing someone actually cared, but he found himself letting out a nervous laugh. “I’m definitely not the best at this… flirting thing. I’m just… I don’t know, overthinking it all.”

Conner’s eyes softened, and before Tim could protest, Conner slid closer on the bed. He nudged Tim’s shoulder lightly, his voice quieter now. “You don’t have to be perfect at it. I think you’re doing just fine.”

Tim froze, his pulse racing at the sudden closeness. “Wait, really?”

Conner smirked, but there was something genuine in his smile now. “Really. You’ve just gotta stop trying to be all… cool about it. Just be yourself. If someone can’t see how amazing you are, that’s their loss.”

Tim swallowed, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks. “You’re… you’re the worst, you know that?”

But Conner just laughed, the sound light and effortless. “I know. But you like me anyway.”

Tim bit his lip, trying not to smile too much, but there was no denying the way his heart was beating faster now. Conner had always been the one to tease him, to make him laugh when things were tough. But this this felt different. The way they were sitting there, so close, the unspoken understanding between them it was the kind of connection Tim hadn’t realized he was craving.

“Alright, alright,” Conner said, standing up and giving Tim a teasing grin, “I’ll leave you to think about that. But you know I’m here, if you wanna… talk or whatever.”

Tim nodded, his throat a little tight, but he didn’t know what to say. Conner’s easygoing presence had a way of putting him at ease, and for the first time in a while, Tim felt like he was starting to understand what it meant to really be seen by someone.

“Thanks, Conner,” Tim muttered, his voice soft.

Conner winked as he walked toward the door. “Anytime, small bird. Anytime.”

As the door clicked shut behind him, Tim sank back against the bed, his heart still racing, but now for a different reason.

Conner: So…

Tim: Please don’t.

Conner: Your parents have been following us for like… an hour. I swear I saw your mom dive behind a trash bin.

Tim: If I ignore it, maybe it’ll go away.

Reader, whispering from the kitchen: They didn’t see us.

Bruce, deadpan: They definitely saw us.

[mydearzero]

The Babysitter | Robert 'Bob' Reynolds x fem!Reader | Chapter 4 - Trip Switch

Summary: You didn’t have any superpowers, nor were you even qualified for the position, yet somehow a mishap between Alexei and Yelena ends up in getting you a new job. Bob-sitter. 

Contents: No Y/N, fem!reader, college student!reader, mentions of food and eating, mentions of blood

Read it on AO3 | Chapter 1 | Chapter 3

2.3K words

You were roughly awakened by your ringtone obnoxiously blasting in your ears. It was Yelena. Before you swiped to answer you checked the time; 5:30 A.M.. 

“Hello?” You answered groggily. 

“Hey, sorry to call you this early. It’s kind of an emergency and we don’t know how long we’ll be gone. Can you come to the tower?” Yelena was obviously multitasking, her tone distant. You were already out of bed and looking around for clothes to wear. 

“I’ll be there in 30,” you replied. Yelena thanked you and hung up without any more details. You wiped the sleep from your eyes and gathered your stuff. You grabbed some clothes as well, for if the stay would be prolonged. You quickly brushed your teeth and scoured the internet for any big happenings that could require the team’s assistance, but came up empty. 

You were out of the door in record speed. Bob was likely still asleep, but Yelena’s voice had sounded concerned. She wouldn’t have called you if it wasn’t necessary.

The Watchtower was empty when you arrived besides the doorman; nobody had started their workday yet. You greeted him with a nod as the automatic doors let you in. The path from your house to the penthouse had quickly become familiar. 

The team was already gone by the time you got there. Bob was nowhere to be found, probably still in bed as you’d assumed. How he hadn’t been awoken by the ruckus of the team leaving in an emergency was besides you. 

You dropped your bag next to the couch and walked into the kitchen. Might as well prepare an abundant breakfast for Bob and yourself while you have the time. 

You put on some light music and gathered supplies to cook Bob some pancakes. It was when you were washing your hands that you noticed the bruise around your wrist. It was where Bob had playfully gripped it the other day. He clearly didn’t know how strong he was, or at least didn’t have full control over it. You shrugged it off, dried your hands and started putting the dry ingredients in a bowl as you hummed to the tune playing from wherever the speakers in this damn place were. You glanced at the clock and saw it was already 6:30, an hour after Yelena had called for you to come over. 

You prepared a giant stack of pancakes, along with some other breakfast foods like eggs and toast. You made the table and admired the generous spread you’d prepared. You put the coffee machine on, preparing a big pot to drink throughout the day. If you had felt up to it you would’ve even squeezed fresh orange juice, but you figured the store bought stuff in the fridge would taste just fine alongside the homemade foods. 

“Wow…” The voice startled you. You’d been deep in thought and engrossed with the things you were putting on the table. You’d nearly dropped the carton of orange juice as you turned around, coming face to face with a sleepy Bob. 

“Sorry, did I wake you up? I wasn’t exactly being quiet,” you asked. 

“No, I usually wake up around this time, don’t worry. What’s all this?” Bob gestured to the table with wide eyes. 

“Yelena called like an hour and a half ago to ask if I could come over and I figured you were still asleep, so I thought I’d make us some breakfast,” you shrugged, putting the carton on the table and taking a seat. Bob followed your lead, sitting across from you. 

“This… This isn’t just breakfast. This is like a feast… Or a banquet. You made all this?” His voice was filled with wonder. 

“Bon appétit,” you smirked, grabbing your mug and taking a sip. If it were anybody else accompanying you, you would’ve thought you’d made way too much food. But Bob had proved the other day he was a bottomless pit when it came to food. Nothing proved less true when he inhaled 3 pieces of toast like they were air. 

The music was still playing softly as you ate in silence. It was nice. You wouldn’t need to retire anytime soon if this was what your job was going to be like all the time. 

“Can you pass me the bacon?” Bob asked after he took a big gulp of coffee. 

You reached across the table and Bob fell silent. You grabbed the plate of bacon and handed it to him, but paused when you saw his fallen expression. You followed his eyes to your wrist, where your sleeve had ridden up to reveal the bruise he’d left behind. 

“Is that… Did I do that?” His voice was so soft. 

“I mean, it doesn’t even hurt. Yelena said you’re not sure of your powers yet and I’m convinced you didn’t mean to,” you put the plate of bacon down and slowly munched on your food. 

“Just because I didn’t mean to doesn’t mean it’s okay,” Bob scoffed. His tone was surprisingly hollow and harsh. 

“I’m sorry. Really, I am. This never should’ve happened…” He contemplated for a second before loading his plate with food and standing up. 

“Thanks for the food, I really do appreciate it. And you,” he mumbled as he walked away with the plate. You were left alone at the table, confused as to what had just happened. He slammed the door to his room shut loudly, rattling it in its frame. You flinched and looked around the table defeatedly. Most of the food was gone by now, anyway. 

You sighed and decided to leave him be, for now. You knew what Yelena had said and what your job description was, but something inside you told you he needed some space. You cleared the table and loaded the dishwasher. Somehow the room seemed more silent without Bob in it, even when he was usually a quiet companion. 

You grabbed your laptop out of your bag and sat at the kitchen island, trying to get some work in if you were going to be waiting for Bob to cool down. 

You were typing when the lights flickered a few times before switching off entirely, coming back on only after a few seconds. You gazed at the ceiling expectantly, waiting for the lights to flicker again or for something else strange to happen, but nothing did. You sighed and continued typing. Must’ve been a power surge of sorts. 

The elevator dinged, announcing someone’s arrival at the penthouse. You turned in your chair, seeing who it was. You recognized one of the two women, who was in the public eye of New York a lot, especially the last few months. Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, or Val, as the team sometimes called her. The other younger girl was someone you didn’t know.

“Who are you?” Valentina frowned as she looked you up and down. You weren’t entirely sure how to answer, so you just told her your name and nothing else. 

“Well, what are you doing here? And where is everybody else?” Val scoffed. 

“I– uh, I look after Bob?” Your confused expression mirrored her own. 

“And where is Robert, exactly?” She crossed her arms. 

“In his room?” You cocked your head towards the hallway, where the bedrooms were located. 

“Tell me, is everything you say a question?” Val wondered. 

“No? I mean, no, it’s not.” The woman was somewhat intimidating, who could blame you. 

“Good. Now as for my previous question, where is everybody?” 

“I don’t know, actually. Yelena just called me this morning asking if I could come over. That’s all I know,” you told her. You hadn’t heard very good things about her, but were aware she still held some sense of power in the dynamic of the team. 

“To do what?” 

“Look after Bob, like I told you. I don’t have any more information than you do,” you raised your hands in defence. 

“I think she’s the ‘babysitter’ Bucky mentioned,” the other woman finally spoke quietly. She turned to address you, “I’m Melissa, but you can call me Mel.” You gave her an awkward wave. 

“Ah, the babysitter, right. Cute. That does mean I’m also your boss, of sorts. I pay your salary. So, employer to employee, can we have a small chat?” Val’s tone changed. You narrowed your eyes, unable to figure out what she was getting at. 

“You see, they took him from me. I can offer you a lot more money than whatever blondie offered,” Val sat down beside you. You subconsciously moved back a little. 

“To do what?” You asked. You didn’t want her dirty money, or anything to do with whatever she was planning. 

Val looked you over once again, scrutinising your face. She moved forward, her hand coming up to move a strand of your face behind your ear. 

“You’re pretty enough… He’s lonely, you just get on his good side for me, can you do that?” She was still uncomfortably close. The glass next to your laptop exploded suddenly, sending shards of glass flying outward. Luckily it was empty of any drink, your laptop unscathed.

You couldn’t say the same for your face. A shard had sliced your cheek, not deep, but enough to sting and bleed. Valentina had also gotten hit, though her face was intact, only a few shards being sent into the sleeve of her jacket as her hand was still near your face. 

You searched for the source of how this could’ve happened, spotting a tense looking Bob in the hallway. 

“Get away from her,” he didn’t sound like himself. When Valentina and Mel made no move to leave, he raised his voice. “I said LEAVE.” 

Val scrambled out of the chair, her and Mel quickly making their way back to the elevator. Whatever they’d come over for could wait until later. 

Bob waited until they were gone before slowly making his way over to you. You searched his face for an explanation, but came up empty. He moved the same piece of hair Val had back behind your ear, putting his hand under your chin and moving your face towards the light. He examined the cut. His eyes weren’t their usual blue colour, you noted. Something had set him off. 

He sat down in the chair Val had sat in and carefully took the piece of glass embedded in your cheek and pulled it out. You winced a little at the stinging sensation. 

“I’m sorry,” Bob apologized. “I overheard what she was saying… I lost my temper. I shouldn’t have. You shouldn’t have gotten hurt, again.” He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, lips tight in frustration. When he opened his eyes, they had returned to their usual hue. 

“It’s okay,” it was softer than you’d expected, a whisper. 

“No, it’s not. You’re not like me. You don’t have powers. You get hurt, you die, there’s no returning from that. I couldn’t live with myself if it was because of me,” Bob shook his head. 

You’d only known him for about two weeks, yet already seemed to understand the extreme doubt he had in himself. He would blame everything on himself, even when it was outside of his control. 

“You heard her? From your room?” You wondered, attempting to steer the conversation away from his guilt. 

“Yeah, my hearing ‘s like… Very good. Enhanced, I guess…” He was sweeping together the pieces of the bursted glass, refusing to meet your gaze. 

“Bob, hey, look at me,” you pleaded. He looked up and into your eyes. “I’d never do that to you, you hear? I’d never sell you out like that. I wouldn’t just betray your trust.” 

“It’s not… About that. I never really had anybody that cared about me. And now I have the team, and even though it’s only been a short time I feel like you care, too,” you nodded in agreement. “I guess I just never really realized that caring comes with a cost.” 

You urged him to continue, even when you already understood where he was going. 

“It comes with a vulnerability, I suppose. I wasn’t prepared to feel that vulnerable. You give and you take and you expect there to be a balance in friendship. I just… I’m scared that if I let people get too close they might use it against me. And with these powers…” Bob stared at his hands. 

You put a hand on his shoulder, but quickly moved it away when he flinched at the touch. You mumbled a soft apology before continuing. “It comes with a vulnerability, yes, but you also get love in return, and I think that’s quite a good deal.”

Bob agreed, but you could tell something had shifted. He’d shut back down again. Even if it wasn’t as bad as it had been before you’d gotten the job, you could tell you would need to pull him out of this before he spiralled in guilt and self doubt.

You attempted to suggest activities, but he turned them all down, opting to go back to his room. You cleaned the last pieces of glass in the kitchen and returned to working in silence, thinking the entire situation over. There had to be something you could do so Bob could realize he didn’t need to doubt himself. You quickly realized that, in the end, there was only one person who could ‘fix’ him. Bob himself. But the road was going to be difficult and he would need help along the way. That you could do. You couldn’t do it for him, but you could stand by his side. So you tried.

Chapter 5

TAGLIST: @jason-todd-fangirl-14 @hopes-peak-akademy @rattheraddestrat @i-shall-abide @puer-aurea @kennywantskfc69 @spectacled-studies @hiddlebatchedloki @chimchoom @spidermiraculous-blog @s00ty-feet @28cnn @tinythebunni @softpia @roeroeroeyourboet @secretkittydreamland @cultish-corner @greenbean-4ever @t-rexs-world @thebitchiestnerdtowalktheearth @ifilwtmfc @renren-006 @10ava01

[moonstruckme]

mae my lovely, can i possibly request emt!marauders and reader who hasn’t replied to any texts in a few days/a week? pre-established relationship but not quite living together, and reader struggles with her mental health and has holed herself up in her apartment which worries the boys greatly? please don’t write if you feel uncomfortable (and if you’ve already written it but i’ve devoured emt!marauders today and i don’t think you have) obviously!! love you

Thank you for requesting my love! And thanks to @ellecdc for helping me figure out the emt stuff <3

cw: mental health struggles, self isolation

emt!marauders x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Sirius’ knuckles rap loudly on your door. 

“Fuck, ease up.” James winces. “She’s gonna think we’re the cops.” 

“Good. Maybe she’ll answer for them.” 

“You need to calm down.” Remus’ voice is patience with a firm edge. “We don’t know what’s going on. If we go in angry with her, it’s not going to help anything.” 

“I think I have the right to be somewhat miffed,” Sirius argues. “You ghost someone after a first date, not once you’re in a relationship. It’s fucked.” 

“She’s not ghosting us,” James says certainly. Sirius’ mouth pinches in response.

James knows that, truly, his boyfriend is as worried as any of them. You’re well past the point in your relationship where you feel the need to establish the next time you’re going to meet before parting, but after your date last week it took the boys a few days to put it together that none of them had heard from you. 

At first, James presumed you’d simply gotten busy. Remus was convinced he’d done something to upset you. Sirius, secretly the most prone to worry, would rather believe he’s been slighted than consider the possibility that something might be keeping you from responding to their calls. Now that it’s been nearly a week, James is convinced something’s happened. You’ve had to take an emergency trip out of town or something’s spooked you and made you avoid them or—worst case scenario—you’re ill and have been holed up here with no one to check in on you for almost a week. 

Once he brought up that idea, it wasn’t difficult to convince his boyfriends to do a wellness check during their shift. 

“Just don’t be harsh with her,” Remus says gently. 

Sirius huffs. He knocks again, albeit somewhat softer. 

“NHS,” he calls. 

James holds his breath when he hears some shuffling from inside. Gradually, it gets closer and louder, until the door is creaking open and you’re peering through the crack. 

Your voice is scratchy, like you haven’t used it in a while. “What’re you doing here?”

James expects Sirius to snipe at you, is already prepared to smooth it over himself with kinder words and a gentler tone, but something seems to shift in the other boy at the sight of you. He pushes through the crack in your door, hugging you fiercely. 

“We…” Remus seems as thrown by this deviation as James is. “We thought we ought to check up on you.” 

Your hand migrates up, touching Sirius’ back tentatively. “Why?”

“It’s a wellness check.” Sirius’ voice is bitter, but the effect is somewhat muddled by how he’s speaking into your neck. “We had reason to believe you could be harmed or deceased.” 

“Oh,” you murmur. 

James takes a moment to look you over. You’re in pajamas, visibly rumpled, and yet you look as tired as if you’ve not slept in some time. There’s something off about your expression, something missing that he can’t put his finger on. It’s unsettling in a way that makes him want to wrap you up in a tight cuddle and not let go. 

“Are you okay?” he asks, perhaps more brash than he means to be. Normally he’d expect more tact from himself, but he’s shocked Sirius hasn’t asked yet, and someone has to.

“Can we come in?” Remus asks at the same time. 

You look between them like you’re not sure what to do with them. Like you’re questioning whether you’re still in some sort of dream. 

“Yeah,” you say after a moment. James gets the sense you mean it to answer both of them. You step back from the door to make room for them, and Sirius moves with you. “Um, forewarning, it’s really bad in here.” 

Really bad by your standards isn’t the same as James’. If he hadn’t seen the way you normally keep things, he’d never notice anything was amiss. Your place smells a bit stale, like when you leave for a weekend and then come home. There’s a laundry basket on the floor with a few balled socks like you’d started to fold them and given up, and if he peers into your bedroom he can see a small trash pile on your floor and the covers of your bed all twisted up. It’s no worse than his side of the dorm he’d shared with Remus and Sirius in school. 

“What happened?” Sirius asks you. His voice sounds clearer now, and James focuses back in to find that he’s let you go enough to press his forehead to yours. His brow and lips are pinched. “Why have you been avoiding us?” 

James is nearly overcome by the desire to kiss him and rub his back, but he decides to let you have the honor, if you want it. 

You look unsure whether you do. 

“I’m sorry.” The words seem scraped out from some aching part of you. “I wasn’t trying to.” 

“Then why didn’t you answer our calls?” Sirius’ tone matches yours for desperation. Remus’ expression twinges compassionately. 

“I couldn’t.” 

“Why not?” 

“Sirius,” Remus chides softly. 

Your shoulders are slumped, but when Sirius moves away you seem to droop further. He’s only giving you space, his expression far from unkind. 

“Why couldn’t you pick up, dove?” Remus asks gently. 

“I…” Your eyes meander the floor. “I didn’t know what to talk about. And then my phone died, and it was just easier. I’m really sorry.” 

“Is talking to us really that bad?” Sirius is clearly making an attempt at joking, but the heartache underlying his words is unmissable. 

“No,” you sigh. “I’m just not really fit for the world right now. I didn’t want you to worry.” 

James’ ribs hurt at your admission, but he feels himself nodding. Even if he doesn’t know exactly what it is you’re dealing with, he’s familiar with people who think they’re somehow so damaged they don’t deserve to engage with anyone or anything. Sirius was like that once. Remus even more often. He sees the recognition on both of their faces now, pity and love and regret all tangled up into one messy thing. 

“Well, it was a noble effort,” says James, giving you a small smile, “but you can’t stop us worrying. Can I hug you?”

You nod, making an effort towards returning his smile. It’s a half-hearted, flickering thing, but he appreciates it nonetheless. 

He kisses your forehead as he folds you into his arms, starting gentle and tightening when you hug him back. Your grip feels a bit weak, if ardent. James pushes his palm up your spine. 

“Have you eaten today, sweetheart?” 

Your hum in the negative vibrates against his skin. 

“I’ll make us something.” Remus starts toward the kitchen, passing a hand over James’ curls as he goes by. “A sandwich alright, dovey?” 

“Yeah,” you murmur. “Thanks.” 

“Don’t mention it.” His voice raises as he enters the kitchen, and James knows he wants you to hear. To understand that this is something he would happily do for you. 

“Let’s sit down,” James suggests. “Pads, would you mind opening the curtains some?” 

Sirius complies with vigor, whipping open your drapes while James gets you situated on the couch. In the light, the shadows under your eyes are more evident, as is the redness in them. 

James squishes you up against his side. Rubs up and down your arm. “It’s okay,” he murmurs. 

You make a tiny, stymied sound, and turn your head down. 

“Hey.” Sirius sits on your other side. He kisses your shoulder, worry hewn into the lines of his face. “What’s wrong?” 

Your shoulders give a little shake. It’s small, defeated. You curl further in on yourself. 

“Oh, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

“You don’t have to explain,” James tells you, continuing to drag his hand up your arm. “It’s okay. You’re alright.” 

“I wanted—” You take in a wet inhale. He feels close to tears himself. “I wanted to be better when I saw you. I’m sorry.” 

“We don’t need you to be any sort of way, sweetheart.” Sirius’ voice is soft but fervent. “We just want to be with you.”

“As much as you’ll let us,” James agrees. His own voice is thick, and Sirius slides his arm around you to rub between his shoulders. 

You don’t say much after that. James holds you tight until your trembling stops, and even then he only loosens his grip to let you eat the grilled cheese Remus has made for you. From the wrappers he saw in your room, it’s likely the closest thing to a prepared meal you’ve had in some time. 

When you’re done eating, Sirius insists on kissing the saltiness from your cheeks even though your tears have dried. Remus coaxes you into a bath while James and Sirius tidy your room and change your sheets, and then Remus enlists Sirius to shampoo your hair while he tucks your sheets in more effectively. They put your phone on the charger. James makes dinner and puts it in the fridge for you to have later. None of it fixes anything, but he hopes it makes you feel less alone. 

When they have to go out for another call, Remus gives you a long hug, James makes you agree to go on a walk with him the next day, and Sirius threatens to pester you with calls until you block his number if you ignore them ever again. 

Your eye roll at his antics makes James’ heart sing.

[theseerasures]

imagine becoming friends with this girl--not like, super close friends, just on friendly terms--who seems destined to become an influencer. she's not one yet but she already has a following at the school you both attend and everybody likes her because she's nice to everyone and pretty funny. one day she starts hanging out with this absolute loser buzzkill sjw and at first you're like, fine, it's a good look to shout out smaller content creators, but then they just never STOP hanging out

one day both of them leave campus to go on a day trip and clearly SOMETHING happens, because right before dinner you get an emergency alert on your phone that her loser friend is on the FBI's most wanted list for animal torture? the popular girl's not answering any of her texts, even from her hot metrosexual boyfriend that she has, and no one hears anything until the next day when she goes Live and announces that she got a really big sponsorship from THE PRESIDENT, no followup on that thing where her bff apparently was a terrorist this whole time

the next few years are really scary because the terrorist keeps evading capture and like, commiting so many atrocities and the details always end up getting leaked. you're terrified in particular because duh, you went to school with that psychopath and apparently she was doing all these terrible things and turning into some freaky three eyed snake when you weren't paying attention. the one spot of joy for everybody's doomscrolling is the popular girl. she does an adread for the government at the start of all her stuff, but the content itself is just like. hauls and GRWMs and makeup tutorials with the occasional day in the life sprinkled in, which is always nice to consume after another horrific news cycle.

she gets engaged to the hot metrosexual boyfriend from school eventually and does an Engagement Reveal bc of course she does, and it's...really weird?? hot metrosexual fiance leaves abruptly halfway through and then the whole thing turns into like. this bizarre apology video, with crying and everything, only she doesn't give specifics or context AT ALL before it's over and she goes back to doing a mukbang with some of her fans and your old principal, who probably got her that government sponsorship. apparently some crazy shit happens to the country after that but you weren't really following it bc you were too busy talking with your friends about what the FUCK was up with that engagement annoucement. you all go back through her history to figure out what problematic thing she might have done but you can't find anything, other than being friendly with the terrorist chick when you were all in school. obviously she couldn't have known about the terrorism back then, so it might just be drama farming. she's a pretty bad actor

except she doesn't post again for a few days, which is worrying since she's ALWAYS followed a super strict upload schedule, but the country is pretty much on fire at that point, so. when she next posts you're pretty excited, because maybe you'll get an explanation for some/any of this, or preferably a sequel drama video

instead she tells you that the terrorist chick is dead, the president is. resigning? leaving? also dead? and he never sponsored any other influencers, which means she's president now, and after she throws your old principal in jail she's gonna teach everybody how to be nice

[wosoarsenalwfc]

my car is replaceable, ur not

steph catley x reader

summary : renee has finally given you guys a day off and you need to do some grocery shopping. steph rather play fifa then come with you. you take her car and on your way back from the shops, you get into a car crash and lose consiousness. hospital calls steph and when you wake up your more worried about damaging stephs car then yourself.

warnings : car crash, hospital, unconsiousness

Renee had finally done the impossible, she had granted the arsenal wfc team a full day off. No training, no meetings, no recovery sessions. Just 24 glorious hours to do absolutely nothing, which, in your mind, translated to: groceries. The fridge had been empty since the last away trip, and you'd been surviving off protein bars, takeaways and questionable leftovers (Steph called them exotic cuisines but both you and your stomach did not appreciate eating a peanut butter and pickle bagel) for three days now.

You were halfway through putting on your sneakers when you looked over at Steph, who was lounged across the couch in sweats, deeply focused on a game of FIFA, looking extra huggable. She didn’t even glance up when you called her name.

“Steph, come with me,” you said, grabbing your keys. “I have to do a big shop. Help me carry stuff with those big muscles of yours?”

She waved a hand lazily, though you could see her tense up to show her muscles.

“Babe, I just got Foden, I can’t abandon him now.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled. This was typical. “Fine,” you sighed as you walked out the door, taking Steph's car keys, instead of yours.

You didn't realise however until you spent 10 minutes trying to open your car with Steph's keys, failing to realise that it was the car behind you that kept lighting up. Oh well you thought, Steph would never know and plus, Steph's car always smelt like her perfume (and occasionally Calvin's shampoo). You got into the front seat and backed out of the garage.

******

You had just finished loading the last bag into the trunk when the traffic light turned green, and you turned out of the parking lot. The intersection was quiet, your windows down, your mind drifting to what snack Steph was definitely going to steal from the bags.

You never saw the car speeding through the red light.

The sound was thunderous—metal twisting, glass shattering, a moment of pure chaos before the world went black.

*******

Steph had just scored a beautiful goal in FIFA when she realised you had been gone for more than 4 hours already. Worry and panic ran through her and suddenly her phone buzzed.

Unknown Number.

She almost didn’t answer, but something in her gut told her to.

“Hello?”

“Hi, is this Stephanie Catley?”

“Yes…”

“This is St. Benjamin's Hospital. We have someone here listed with you as their emergency contact, they were in a car accident. (y/n) (l/n),”.

Her world stopped as she ran to find her car keys but they were no where to be seen. Sighing, she picked up yours, not yet figuring out that if your car was in the garage and hers wasn't, you had taken hers.

******

You opened your eyes slowly, the harsh white hospital lights making you squint. Everything ached. Your head, your side, your legs. But you were breathing.

Someone was holding your hand—tightly. You turned slightly and saw Steph, her eyes red-rimmed, face pale, lips pressed into a tight line.

“Hey,” you croaked.

“Jesus, you’re awake,” she breathed, a shaky laugh escaping. “You scared the hell out of me.”

You blinked at her, groggy. “Wait… the car. Steph—your car. I’m so sorry.”

She looked at you like you’d grown a second head. “You nearly died and you're worried about my car?”

“I'm so sorry, I accidentally took your keys and I wasn't bothered to go grab mine and plus your car smells like you. I'll pay for the insurance or a...” you ranted.

Her face broke into a soft, wet smile and she kissed your pout and interrupting you mid sentence. “You’re an idiot, my car is replaceable, but your not”

“I'm your idiot,” you whispered.

She leaned down and kissed your forehead. “Damn right, I'll go get the nurse now,".

And with that, she walked out the room, not before pecking your cheek and squeezing your hand again.