#biggest handshake of all time. SURELY HE CAN DO SOMETHING ELSE!!!!!!!!

[nexusnyx]

godspeed; [fezco imagine]

SUMMARY: Living in the shadows of your classmates served you well to keep you alive until college. High school could be dangerous, and toxic, and hectic. The only problem about being a wallflower is the missed opportunities, and he is the biggest chance you never took.

That’s alright, though. It’s not like you ever had a chance with Fezco. Right?

⚠️ Mentions of drugs, addiction. | 🏷️ Fluff, strangers to lovers; WC: [5.3k] | 📑Posting this again because some people asked for it. If there are any other Fez scenarios you want I can check if I still have them. Mwah.

The thing about being an addict who meets another addict was that they could bring out the worst in you.

It might happen without meaning to, and they'd do it without any notion of the effects it might cause on your life. With one request from them, or maybe getting stuck in the same room as another one who's a little like you and bam—five years of sobriety would go down the drain.

Rue could be that for you.

Thanks to Ali and your last two years in therapy, she won't be. Not tonight.

“Are you sure you don’t wanna come?” Rue asks. Her eyes are dropping low and she pouts in an adorable manner. She’s high. Very high.

You shake your head. “Thanks.” Her new friend Elliot gives a sharp nod before he and Rue leave together, and you take a second to send a prayer in secret that Rue makes it tonight.

You didn't come back to this damn city to get attached to someone and just watch them die.

After a sad chuckle, you turn around to see what else is there to do in this party she brought you which is not one-third as lame as you imagined it’d be, and that’s when you see him. It takes a second for your brain to understand why it stopped dead in its track at the sight across from you, but when the light flicks just right in his freckled face, you recognize him even with the beard.

You freeze.

Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck—is that Fezco?

You look away for a second, then back at him. Across from the glass wall that leads to the pool patio there's a gazebo, and he's sitting in the steps talking to someone. The place is crowded and illuminated mostly by colorful lights, but you'd recognize those eyes and cheeks anywhere.

It is him.

Looking good. Looking five times more handsome than he ever did before dropping out of school, and by the looks of it, doing the same thing he did while he was still in the halls of East Highland.

He's smoking and staring with a blank expression to the bodies dancing and walking in front of him, and after catching a second person not subtly slipping him money for a handshake of something, you realize that yup—he's dealing.

And he looks ridiculously good doing so.

A glass of whatever the hell Rue mixed is downed in a second, and you go to the kitchen in search of more.

Fuck your entire life.

Who would've thought Fezco O'Neill would still be living in this shitty town?

Studying with Fezco all those years ago could've been one of the many things your years of substance abuse took out of your early memories hasn't it been for how much you thought of him back then. Even though you two were never friends, never passed beyond the stage of awkward small talks, you enjoyed him. His presence.

One could say you had a crush.

You loved the short and brief interactions you shared with Fezco back then—he came to school often until a certain point, and given the nature of his job, talking to Fez was almost impossible since he talked to everybody, all of the time.

People gravitated towards him in groups, alone, in couples; either because of the drugs or just because he was one of the few people who you could sit beside and not feel anxious, or like you need to try too hard.

The party Rue brought you to has many more teenagers than you expected. It was granted, and you ignored it. The music is decent enough, but you can almost feel the small web strings of drama tying the entire party together. You'd like to blame Rue for you being here, but you can't.

She's still seventeen.

When you were seventeen, you were… well. Doing the same she is now.

Sadly.

You'll blame Ali for being invited over to his daughter's house and dropping the Bennet Bomb on your lap. He pays in food, and that's always nice.

Navigating the party to try and find something to do or a conversation pit that is nice proves to be worthless, and you start worrying that this night will be a bust.

You may be sober from all the pills that one day fucked you over, but your fucks still happened every once in a while because of the other things you still fell back on when shit got hard, which, considering the world and its state—it's often.

At least alcohol and weed make you less of a mess. This party had both. The night could be fun.

You promised Ali you'd keep an eye on Rue—she's doing poorly and a trainwreck tends to crash and leave traces if you don't see to it soon. But if you're staying, you need at least a joint.

Or two.

Fuck.

You stop the first teenager you see, "Hey, is there any other dealer in the party other than Fez?" You ask.

The boy scoffs. "'Course not," he says, then walks away.

Fair enough. No one would be stupid to try and deal at a party in an area where people even drive to meet Fez; he covers the crowd of this (and a few other) high schools for years now. Of course it's only him.

There's no reason you shouldn't go to him. He's not even gonna recognize you, your brain tells you.

The boy scoffs. "'Course not," he says, then walks away.

There's no reason you shouldn't go to him, you think. He's not even gonna remember you anyway. It's a bitter reminder, but the taste leads your legs outside to the gazebo in hopes Fezco is still there.

And even if he does remember you, the same voice says. It's not like you two ever had a lot to talk about. As you walk, you remember Rue mentioning to Ali a few days earlier about how her friend who is a drug dealer had beaten Nate Jacobs into a pulp. She told Ali the reason why and even though you had no idea who Nate Jacobs was, he sounded like a fucking cunt.

You kinda hated to have missed the show.

Part of you is wondering what will happen if Fezco does remember who you are, but it's not like that is a big deal either. He'd say hi, make small talk and then what? Reminisce about the days when he sold you Codeine or Demerol and you lived through the stages of a fucked up household while high out of your fucking mind?

Right.

Your palms are sweating. You check the bills inside your dress's bust again and fix the edge of your glitter sleeve, stepping close enough to see the pool and—there he is.

Fezco is talking to a guy when you step outside and to your happiness, Rue and Elliott can be found with Kat in the garden close by. You can do this.

You walk until your platforms are knocking on the edge of the first step, and Fezco only turns around when the guy leaves his side. He turns taking out the joint that's behind his ear, fishing for the lighter that must be on his front pocket, but then he sees the legs standing right in front of him and lifts his head to look at your face.

"Hi," you shake your head at him. "Please tell me you still got weed." I might have to drink tequila like a frat boy if you don't. It's the frown that tells you Fezco's mind must be trying to connect the dots, and before you can offer him any hint on why he sort of recognizes you, a smile breaks out in his face and surprises you into stunned silence when he follows with, "Oh, shit. You're Y/n," he points at you.

"I'm—yeah?" You know your crush used to be big, but you fight down a knot at trying to recall if his smile had always been this charming. "Yeah, it's me," you try again, not wanting to sound like a question. "You're Fezco. Hi again," you wave a hand again.

This boy always left you tongue-tied, but you'd be damned if he got you looking stupid this early into a conversation.

"Wow." Fezco's smiling dopely, and the way he looks you up and down have your skin running a little hotter. "Been a long time. Hi, little ma."

Fuck. He's sitting down, but Fezco chill raspy voice still makes him feel inches taller.

"Hey, Fezco."

"You said you wanted weed?" He asks, finally lighting up his joint.

You look at the orange smoke illuminating his face and nod. "Yes, please." This is still as awkward as it was back then. "I'm not mentally ready to be this surrounded by teenagers," you add without thinking.

Fezco laughs at that, taking his blunt between his fingers. "Word." He fishes for something inside his jacket's pocket. "You want the flower or you want a pre-rolled?"

You pout. "That depends. Who rolled it?"

Fezco smiles. "I did."

"Your joints looked like tiny spaceships, man. No offense." Back in school together, you never bought weed from Fezco because you hated how smoke made you cough, but you saw the pre-rolled he sold to your classmates, and he rolled like shit.

He surprises you by laughing again, and then he gets up. "Damn, ma—your memory's good, huh?" Fezco looms over you for a second before leaning against the handrail, and he takes out a pack from a pocket. "I got better at it. Look. Looking like they came from a factory, see? I ain't selling shit I wouldn't be smoking too."

His joints really are looking professional, and you laugh again, this time with him.

"Cool—they look good," you nod in approval.

Fezco who's had a smile on his face since he put a name to your face nods too, looking even more pleased with himself. "Cool. One's $3. Three's ten. Five's fifteen. How many you looking for?"

"Gimme five."

"Five?" He blinks in surprise, but starts picking them one by one.

"I'm looking out for a friend of a friend and I have a feeling she's not going home anytime soon." You give him the money, and in exchange take the blunts. "I'm not taking chances."

"You don't have a purse, where you gonna put 'em?" Fez asks, taking another look at your outfit.

You pull on the fabric of your renovated shirt and show him the pocket you sewed on the inside. You make a show of opening it, putting four of the joints inside, then close the button.

Fezco chuckles. "Aight. You're prepared." He looks you up and down again, and you fidget in response, organizing your corset underneath the shirt. "What brought you back? Wait—why did you leave in the first place?"

When Fezco left school in seventh grade, you still saw him for a few years. Whenever the pills ran out at your place, you ran to his and Ash's place for more.

You shrug your shoulder, and light the one joint you kept in your hand. "I left to go live with my Aunt."

He doesn't need to know the why, nor does he care. Whatever it is Fezco remembers of you or thinks of your person, you can bet it isn't that your mother preferred you living in another state than keeping the junkie her neglect created at home.

"Really?" Fezco asks, and he sounds just as genuine as ever. He looks behind your shoulder out of nowhere and you notice another boy hovering your conversation, most likely wanting something out of him and you're about to say you'll leave him alone when Fezco shrugs a hand in the air for him. "Ain't available. Find Ash," and without even looking for his response, his eyes are back on you. "Was your aunt nice?"

His voice drags out, the same way as it did before.

It's still distracting. "Yeah." Auntie, unlike Mother, lived a real life. Had real problems and, as consequence, helped you with yours. Fez probably didn't care about that either, so you exhaled the smoke and changed the topic. "And you? Last I remember you quit to help your G Ma with business and your little bother. How's Ash?"

Fezco smiles, and you feel your heart skipping a stupid beat at it.

Even his smile has gotten cuter.

"You remember that?" His words drag out, and he smacks his lips on his teeth.

You frown. "Course I do." I always had trouble forgetting anything related to the cute and funny ginger boy who always has a kind gesture or word to offer if you need. Fezco nods, looking at you through his eyelashes and this time, he keeps his eyes there. "Yeah. Stuff's been good, you know."

His careless demeanor never hid from you the small things, like the way he narrows his eyes when he's lying through his teeth. You hope whatever 'good' he's been getting, it gets a little better.

Before you can ask something else, Fezco goes on. "It's weird that you remember that. About Ma G and Ash."

That comment leaves you even more confused. "How come?"

Fezco shrugs his shoulders again. "Dunno. It was a while ago, lil' mama." You two laugh at that, because word. "'s the reason I knew I could trust you, too."

Fezco trusts you? "You trusted me?"

"Trust. Ain't gone away just 'cause you left," his smile is so nonchalant that it makes you smile in return. "No one ever found out why I dropped—just assumed 's for what I do. Lots of rumors 'n that's it."

He's right about that.

Through hazy memories, you recall people trying to create the most dramatic reason for Fezco's drop out in the cafeteria as well as in the streets. "Yeah… I remember that." You hum. "Always found that strange."

How was that a twelve-year-old Fezco managed to keep his grandmother's sickness all to himself was beyond you.

"Exactly." The way he says the word makes you leave Eastland high of all those years ago and focus on him again. He said it as a confirmation, and when you frown, he elaborates through a chuckle because he notices you're already high and just as lost as before. "You're the only one I told, Y/n."

"Wait. Really?" That couldn't be. Fezco had friends. Good ones and not-so-good ones, you imagined. "Why?"

"Yeah, lil' ma. You the only one who asked," he shrugs it off, speaking through the clouds of smoke.

You're the only one who asked.

"Oh." That made the flutter inside of you get worse. So much worse.

Sure, Fez always answered when you asked him things, whether it was about his brother, or his grandma Marie, or even himself, but picturing a world where people never even ask him about those stuff seems foreign to you.

Maybe that's because you always wanted to know.

The silence stretches out for a few seconds between you both, only the smoke of your blunts creating a thick fog around, almost like a bubble.

Fezco still stares at you and your clothes, and you try to move only your shoulders to the beat of the song because his eyes are as sharp as they were before.

"What brings you back, then?" Fezco asks. Someone else pops up right behind you and he exhales his smoke a little annoyed. "Not now. Find Ash."

That's the second time he blows off a customer to keep talking to you and—yup. Just as you feared the first time it happened, this one leaves your cheeks burning bright.

You clear your throat and look away from him in search of Rue as an excuse, hoping he doesn't see it. "My sponsor is kinda like a dad to me. And he sponsors… that one." Rue's still sitting underneath the same tree with Elliott, and you release anxiety you forgot you were holding on to at the sight of her. "So I guess you can say it's babysitting duties." You shrug. "If you're asking why I'm in town specifically, it's 'cause my Aunt moved in business for a year so," you shrug, as if saying this is where I gotta be, I guess. I have nowhere else to go. Instead of asking about the sponsor as most people do, Fezco's still looking in the direction your finger pointed.

"You babysitting Rue?"

"Yeah."

"Word?" You nod at him, giggling a little at how happy he got out of the sudden. "Fuck, man, that's kinda good to hear, I ain't gonna lie to you," Fezco laughs at that, really laughs like he's happy in his most genuine form. "She's my friend. Rue. She's kinda like family—I know she a mess, but." He takes another drag, looking between you and Rue this time. "I ain't selling to her hard stuff anymore, but…" Fezco sighs. "I'm scared if I don't give her what she want, she'll just find it with someone else, ya feel me?"

Double fuck. "Damn." Fezco dealt for Rue. Who ODed. Who's relapsed for the second time. Damn it. Knowing Fezco the little you did, you knew he felt a silent ocean of guilt over it. "She's good, Fez."

You reach out with your free hand, knocking your knuckles gently against his forearm. "She got a good sponsor, 'kay?" You lift the joint in your hands. "This? The only reason I still got a grip in shit's because Ali takes none of my bullshit and still manages to give me good advice between all the crap I try to sell 'im. She's not in a good place, but she is a good kid. Stuff takes time, that's all. Plus—she's still young. Surrounded by drama, all the fucking time. She needs to get to a place where she wants to be alive for real, and she will. Eventually."

Even though it had been only two pancake visits since you and Rue met, the kid got her vines in you, somehow.

Just like Ali, you believed in her.

"Yeah." Fezco nods along with every word you say, and when you're done, he's smiling again. "Yeah, okay." Has he always looked this fucking breathtaking while smiling? You might have a heart attack. It's a good thing you're not swimming in opiates anymore. "She got a good sponsor and apparently a guardian fucking angel, so I'll believe in ya."

The blush worsens at that, and this time, Fezco catches it. He laughs at you, and you knock your fake Versace Medusa platforms against his chin.

"I am not an angel," you laugh.

"I dunno, it might be the lights or sumn', but you lookin' like one," Fezco looks from the soft pink light that's casting a shadow on the pool area and you, and you wished it was red so it masked your reaction to him instead of highlighting it.

"You always been this sweet talker?" You try, laughing it off.

Fezco's just being nice, you tell yourself.

"My bad, ma." He must notice you're getting a little too flustered, and changes the topic, too. "So how was it with yo Auntie?"

You push away any thoughts of school behind and try it.

Having a conversation with Fezco turns out to be much easier than 11-year-old you imagined. Maybe it was because he was in a year above, or because he's always had those sweet eyes and smiled so rarely, but his intimidating persona fought a valiant battle and lost every time his personality entered the ring.

Eventually, though, Rue gets lost from your sight and, as you promised, you have to go find her.

"Fucking hell," you mutter to yourself, getting up from the steps. "Uh—I'll be back?"

Fezco looks up at you. "Really? 'Cause if you say you'll be back, I'll wait."

You smile down at him. "Then, I will be back."

Finding Rue while high and happy out of your mind feels almost hypocritical.

The sea of teenagers and the smell of alcohol, weed and sweat does nothing for you when all your brain can focus on is Rue Rue Rue Where Is Rue as well as Fez Fez Fez, As Sweet as Ever, Fez Fez Fez. He looks so pretty.

He pulls off the beard, too. His voice is lower, much lower than you remember—puberty hit that boy in the chest, and all the smoking can't help, either. And if he—oh shit, that's Rue.

"Rue Fucking Bennet!" Your scream is met with the sight of Rue looking like a parakeet. "Yeah, you."

"Oh, shit." Rue looks behind her, and, of course, there's Elliot. Is that a bathroom behind them?

"Oh, fuck nah." You stride to them, anything that isn't Rue and that bathroom momentarily forgotten. "You are high enough." You push past Elliot and stand in front of the bathroom door. "I ain't watching you snort too many lines for your already high-ass brain to keep up with. Go fucking find something else to do."

"Shit, Rue. You never told me you brought your mom," Elliot teases.

You point a finger right on his face. "You better learn when to shut the fuck up, Elliot." I don't fucking like you, Elliot. "Did she tell you I'm here 'cause I caught her almost passed out in a bathroom? Did she?"

From the sight on his face, she obviously hadn't. Called it.

"Exactly. Why don't you stick to your fucking lane and go roll the two of you a joint or something and I'll stick to my lane of not letting the addict decide how much coke is enough coke for her, huh?" Your blood is boiling already, and Elliot's right. You sound like her mother, and yet, you can't bring yourself to care. Turning your face to Rue, you see her looking sheepish between you both. "Trust me. You can find other shit to do."

Rue sighs, but you caught the fleeting fear in her eyes when you mentioned the bathroom. "It's not gonna help," she tells you with what it's supposed to be a mindless shrug, but—there it is.

The sadness underneath the addiction.

You take a deep breath and step closer. "Why not?"

Rue shrugs her shoulders, avoiding eye contact at all costs. "'Cause this party fucking sucks."

That was debatable, but she looked to believe it, so. "Why does it suck?"

Rue finally pins you with a look, and you watch her struggle. Feel her feelings, or burn them to the ground?

When her eyes start swimming with water, you let out an exhale, happy that she chose the feelings. "'Cause Jules' not talking to me."

Oh, young love.

"Fine." She was not gonna get what she wants from this party, and she's the one reason you're here. "Why don't we leave, then?"

"What?! No! It doesn't suck that bad," Rue defends.

She's not ready to leave yet, but it'll be soon. She probably wants to martyr herself, staring at her girlfriend dancing with people and not her, and fine, you can sympathize with that. "Okay. I'll be with Fezco outside, then. When you decide this party does suck, find us and we'll go, okay?"

Rue stares at you. She licks her lips, looking right into your eyes in search of something, and whatever it is, she must find it. "Okay. Okay, yeah. I'll look for you." She turns to Elliot, who's been leaning on the corridor wall in silence since you told him off. "Let's goooo Elli, bro."

Ugh. From the look on his face at her 'bro', this bro of hers wants something more than her company and her fellow addict nose to keep him from being lonely while he uses it.

Trying to convince yourself that is not your problem, you go back outside in search of Fezco.

Catching Rue walking her death row made you almost sober, or at least, your mind feels that way.

When you get outside, though, Fezco's not there.

The absence of his presence makes you wonder if you left for too long, or if he had something better to do. The next problem is that with no Fezco, you're back to square zero.

Liquor.

You're gonna need alcohol if Rue is off being a masochist and the only other person you knew at the party is gone.

The silver lining comes when after downing a glass of surprisingly good scotch, the music gets good. Losing yourself to the beat and the sea of bodies is easier than thinking. Easier than letting your mind wander, or focusing on the interactions you shared with him that night.

Throwing your head back and closing your eyes to feel the drums in the song instead of the emptiness inside you or the need for something more is one of the many coping mechanisms you found while living in New York.

It's also what keeps you busy until you feel someone trying to get your attention.

It's Elliott. He looks no better or good than when you left him and Rue a while ago, which means they stuck to your advice and found something other than lines to do.

He gestures to the outside and, catching his message, you realize with a sad pang in your chest that it's time to go.

"Where's Rue?" You ask.

"Talking to him." Elliott points to one of the empty corridors, and right in the end, you see them.

Rue and Fezco, talking to one another. Before you can stop yourself, you're taking steps in their direction, but you never get close enough to interrupt the conversation.

Eventually, she notices you standing there and waves a hand at you. She says something else to Fezco, then walks to you.

"Can we light one up before we go?" She asks you as soon as she's in front of you. Rue looks worse.

Fuck.

She did something without Elliot. That stupid, one-brain-celled, fake blond asshole.

"'Course, babes."

Rue nods with a happy smile that looks sad to you, then leaves.

Across the corridor, Fezco is looking at you. Staring, and you're pinned under his gaze until he walks to you, too.

"You weren't there," you tell him as soon as he's in earshot.

Fezco's eyes widen a little, like he's surprised you noticed. "Yeah. My bad, ma." He looks sad too, and fucking hell, is everyone in this city miserable? "My ex dropped by wanting to talk 'n I didn't wanna talk."

That makes you widen your eyes, but in sympathy.

"Ah—I'm the one who should say 'my bad', then," you shrug.

He smiles at you. "'s fine. I was an idiot—she's Rue's age and…" Fezco rubs both hands over his buzzcut, and you groan out loud at the implications of Fezco and his high-school-year-old ex-girlfriend. "Fuck. I gotta stop puttin' myself in trouble, man."

"If it was that easy, huh?" You ask with a bitter laugh.

Fezco looks down at you, laughing along. "Yeah. If only."

"I gotta go—I'm gonna drive Rue—" where? You have no idea where, but she needs to get out and she was the reason you're here. Not the pretty boy, you remind yourself. "Somewhere?"

"Sounds like you don't know either," Fezco tilts his head. "I can recommend a few places."

"Really?!"

"Yeah, really," Fezco smiles and stretches out his head. "Gimme yo phone."

You take your phone out of your pocket and he types something, slowly. Then after a few clicks, he looks up at you. "You mind if I got your number?"

Your heart does. "I was gonna ask for it, anyway." Bless the scotch and heavens guard your heart, because your sudden boldness pays off.

The smile on Fezco's face opens slowly, different than the other ones he gave you that night. It's like watching the animation of a pair of eyes suddenly becoming a wolf, and inside the house, there's nowhere to escape the blue lights.

The color on your cheeks must be noticeable now that he's this close.

Fezco only looks away from you to type away something else on your phone and when the ping of message arrives in his pocket, your stomach does a cartwheel. "There. Now I got yours, too."

The fact that you want something else, something more from him before leaving seems to hover in the air.

Fezco's fingers brush on yours when he hands your phone back, and you swallow thickly with your eyes on his hands.

They're big hands—the notion makes your brain a little dizzy, painted with images of that hand everywhere. Around your throat, holding onto your chin, on your body—fuck.

You look up, and he's still watching you. "Never thought I'd see you again, lil' ma." The hoarseness on his voice is making you a little delirious and—is that perfume? In the tiny and narrow corridor, with him standing only a foot away from you, you can smell Fezco now. "But I'm glad I did."

Fezco's cologne is a strong, wood scent underneath the smell of pot and frankly, you need to get out of here before it cogs your whole brain and you do something stupid, like kissing his pretty pink lips before you go.

"I'm glad, too." Your voice sounds distant, and Fezco chuckles.

"Take good care of Rue, yeah?" You can visibly see him swallow, and then he takes a step back, taking his good scent and his freckles away from your eye level. "I'll text ya some places you can take her."

That's a door he's opening for you, and you take it before you lose control.

"Thanks, Fez." You bite on your bottom lip, trying to hold in the desire to get at least a hug. "Send Ash a hi from me? I'm—it was really good seeing you. Thanks for making my night a lil' happy."

Fezco finally looks away now, chuckling to himself. He looks embarrassed, and the way he ducks his head laughing makes you feel even more desperate, if that makes any sense. "I ain't gonna let you go if you keep being this nice."

"What?! I'm saying bye!" You laugh.

"Yeah, lookin' all cute and shit." Fezco drags one hand over his buzzcut again, and takes one more deliberate step back. "You made my night happier, too. Now please go before Rue fucks off somewhere 'n I have to pretend to be sad that I gotchu for a few more hours."

Hghgn. You swallow thickly around that, trying in vain to convince yourself that Fezco isn't flirting.

It's harder to do that when he's standing only two feet away, looking like you're in a Red Hood and he might eat you alive if one gave him the chance.

For the first time in years, you feel… pretty.

And sexy.

Blinking at him from under your eyelashes, you send him a smile and a siren look that purposely tells him what your last words can't. "See you around, Fez."

He nods at you, sharp and losing his smile—he's staring with intent, and when he licks his lips, you know you have to go before it's your turn to be embarrassed that he makes you whimper without even touching you.

"See ya, angel."

Oh, fuck.

Rue owes you so many joints and, at the same time, you owe her so much more.

You can feel his eyes on your back as you walk outside, and it takes you pinning Rue under your vision and following her like one follows a saving light for you to not turn around and give him one last hand wave.

If you see Fez one more time this evening, you might get high on the way his eyes look at you alone.

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•PART TWO coming soon... •

[mantisgodsart]

And with that, Side A is DONE! OCs transmuted are all from the @bug-oc brackets, again - it may or may not be Marigold's fault, still. We wouldn't worry about it. It's not like anyone ELSE is gonna mysteriously turn up as some kind of different thing, right?

We may or may not be doing these for all the losing bugs until Marigold gets beaten.

Individual pictures, names, and owners of transmuted OCs below the cut.

Starting off the batch this time is Blue Team by @hishap, as some very graceful and elegant slugcats. The explosive spear works around as well as a normal bomb, right? It's probably fine. With Wil as Discount Pikachu, Tera as "kinda sorta lizard", and Mimi as Definitely A Normal Slugcat Do Not Look Closer, they're at least going to be a fun party for Jolly Co-Op. We colored these ones while having a major case of Herr Handshakes, so please do excuse any errors - we're doing our best!

Whirr by @mothbeasts is a Black Lizard, and by far the one we took the most design liberties with - in our defence, "mole lizard" just seemed to fit! He gets bonus legs. Always a good thing. We're sure he can figure it out eventually. The lack of hands might fuck with the baking plans a teeny bit, though. At least he can glow in the dark (not that he'll be able to see it, mind you - black lizards are entirely blind).

Larry by @ultimaxinatank is our preview, and also a slugcat. That makes two wasps who got Slugged here, too - two and a half? In our defence, Slugcat seemed the best fit for all of them. Maybe it runs in the wasp hive. There are a startling number of wasps on this page in general. Popular bug to OC-ify, we guess. Very fun to draw!

Ari by @aridis is a Scavenger - a very, very blue one at that. We took a bit of liberty on the color scheme here, but hopefully it still reads - she's got hands! She's got fluff! She can stab people with spears while residing in a small community! Might pick up a tiny bit of fascination with pearls, but that's normal. Just... make sure they don't steal the pearls off of someone's mask. Bad diplomatic move.

Speaking of Scavengers, Kivik by @fallenvoidhere is a Scavenger Chieftain, and one of two bosses on this sheet - those pearls are incredibly fiddly to do, but at least they make him more impressive? He gets off better than most of the other people here, at least - he's got hands! Dexterity, even! He's better off than his teammate, at least. The symbol on the mask here is The Pilgrim, though it might have photographed a bit oddly - the cloak is a bit more gray and less green in person.

Last but certainly not least, Cherry Blossom by @w-krajobrazie-zapomnienia is a King Vulture, and by far the biggest undertaking as far as technique goes. All those feathers are hand-blended. Wouldn't recommend doing this. Our markers are alcohol-based and we were using a wet paintbrush to blend. At the very least, the markings were fun to do - very swoopy and whirly! Being Marigold's former opponent, the least she can do is offer a quality form to hang out in, and though the lack of hands is difficult... oh, well, we're sure he can figure something out. He's got spears now! That's a plus, probably! Who needs to hold things when they can fly?

[cherthegoddess]

Then There Was You- Chapter Six

Pairing: Tom HollandxScreenwriter!AssistantDirector!Reader

Summary: Y/n is a screenwriter for her first movie called Hurts so Bad where she meets Tom Holland who plays the male lead, William. The cast tries their best to push the two together. Will they be successful or will the two do the getting together on their own?

Warnings: This was written with a black reader in mind, but anyone can read it.

Word Count: 1.6K+

Join my taglist and rate the story here!

Masterlist

Previous Chapter I Next Chapter

Chapter 6: 

It had been two months since the cast and crew party and since Y/n finally admitted her feelings toward Tom to herself. Her feelings only grew for the man. The teasing from her friends actually dwindled since she talked to them about the situation. Tom and Y/n had become steadily closer, sometimes even hanging out together alone in his room. It was a struggle to not talk to anyone about liking Tom. To not tell anyone how her heart swelled anytime he called her, love or darling. Or when he laughed at something she said. It was already hard enough for her to admit it to herself, but admitting it to everyone else was going to be even harder. So she made a plan. Lori was coming to visit within the day and Micheal, Ryan, and she was planning to have a quick little lunch together. Y/n decided she would tell them then and hopefully convince them to seize on the teasing at least around Tom. 

Y/n then focused back on the scene at hand. “I like being friends with you, Aliyah,” Ryan’s face looked down in disappointment. “I like being friends with you, too Willaim,” she said trying to hide her sadness. Their conversation pauses. “I have to go. See you tomorrow,” Ryan says in a rush and walks off the scene. In the scene Aliyah is hiding her emotions, she never thought that the movie would ever correlate with her life, but Ryan acted her feelings perfectly.  “Cut! We might run through the scene a couple of more times after our lunch break! Great job people see you at 4!” Ryan C. said. Y/n talked to Ryan about some lighting changes they could make and moving the camera to a slightly different position. She watched as Tom talked to a few of the crew members, she could vaguely hear him ask about their families. He always seemed so genuinely invested in every conversation he had. He must’ve felt her eyes on him because he looked up and winked at her, then quickly got back in the conversation. She felt her heart flutter at the motion. She was a goner for sure.

When Y/n and Ryan’s conversation concluded, she went to go grab a bottle of water. Just as she grabbed one she felt a pair of hands cover her eyes. “Guess who?” said the person dragging out the o’s. Y/n almost exploded with excitement when she turned around. "LORIII my love. I missed you so much!” Y/n said hugging her friend. Lori and she had been friends since they were kids. Though she and the other girls were close, Lori and Y/n had been through it all, they were practically sisters. “I missed you too, sis! Now put your hand out,” Lori and Y/n had this tradition whenever they hadn’t seen each other they would do a handshake, and not just anyone it was the infamous Peter and Ned one. Y/n grinned at this, sticking her hand out to complete their handshake. She hadn’t noticed that Tom was watching with Ryan and Micheal until she heard his laugh. “Wait, isn’t that Peter and Ned’s handshake?” Micheal answered him with a laugh. “Yeah Lor and Y/n/n have been doing that ever since they saw Spiderman: Homecoming. They’re the biggest Marvel fans I know.” Y/n shrugged her shoulders and Lori went to introduce herself. “Tom! It’s so nice to meet you! I’ve heard so much about you and I’m a huge fan!” Lori hugged​​ Tom. Tom hugged her back. “It’s wonderful to meet you as well. Y/n talks about your friendship often during our movie nights.” Lori raises an eyebrow at Y/n finally noticing the way she looks at him. “Movie nights, huh? I haven’t heard about these.” Before Y/n can say anything Ryan quickly jumps in, “And we’ve only been invited once to their little hangouts.” Y/n’s mouth gapes open, “It’s because you never say yes when we do invite you! We gave up asking like 5 weeks ago!” Tom laughs at the group, seeing how close they were. Micheal wraps his arms around Lori, “Well we have to run off to lunch before Y/n and Ryan have to get back to it! See you soon Tom.” The group says their goodbyes and Tom hugs Y/n after the majority leaves. Lori eyes the two in amusement. 

The group is seated, settled, and took their round of pictures.

Lori asked a question after taking a sip of wine. “So, what’s the tea with you and Tom?” Y/n nearly choked on her own when she heard the question and the group laughed, Ryan, patting her back. Y/n clearing her throat and sitting up straighter. “I actually want to talk to guys about him. As you all heard earlier, we’ve been hanging out a lot these past few months but before that, the night of the cast and crew party. I, um, discovered something. I… Gosh, I can’t believe I’m saying this out loud. I think I like Tom.” The group looks at her and then at each other and laughs. “Thank god you’re finally admitting it to yourself, Y/n/n, and to us, but babe we been knew. Also Michael you owe me! I told you she would tell us this month!” Ryan puts her hand out. “Yeah, sis, Ryan, and Michael have been telling me all about your little crush since day one. I knew nothing about the bet though. Thank you for feeling comfortable enough to tell us though. I know it's been hard for you to express your romantic feelings towards people.” The group nods their heads in agreement. “So what do you plan on doing about it?” Michael asks. Y/n puts her head in her hands and looks back up running her hands through her hair. “I don’t know Mike, I don’t even think he feels the same way. I think I just want to enjoy looking at him and spending time with him. I don’t want to ruin our friendship more than anything. And if our friendship is messed up filming will be too. I just-” Lori cuts her off, “Y/n/n, babe, you’re overthinking. Take a breath. It’s okay if you’re not ready yet. But Tom definitely likes you, from the posts I’ve seen and the little interaction that I’ve seen, he likes you. Enjoy your time with him and tell him about your feelings when you’re ready.” Y/n smiles are the group as they comforted her. “I love you, guys you’re all the best. But no more making bets on me or teasing. I’m talking about you Ryan.” Ryan laughs but takes Y/n’s feelings seriously promising not to do it again. The group is soon interrupted by the waiter bringing their food. Y/n grins when she sees, “I love Atlanta,” The group laughs at Y/n’s goofiness. 

It was finally the end of the day and Y/n was exhausted from the day. They went through a couple of more scenes throughout the day. Even then she had to say to work on some things two hours later. She was glad to finally make it back to her room. Y/n kicked off her shoes and grumbled about what she was going to eat. Most things were closed at this time. There was then a knock on her door. She tiredly gets up off the chair she was almost comfortable in and opens it. There was Tom standing there with a bag of something that smelled amazing and a huge grin on his handsome face. She watched it fall when he glanced her over, there was a pang in her chest when a grown graced his face, she’d do anything to bring it back. So she smiles trying to push the tiredness off her face but her voice claims it instead. “Hey, Spider-boy what do you got there?” She winces when she hears her voice. “Y/n, darling, you look exhausted. I brought you some food because I figured you haven’t eaten yet. Go sit down and relax, I already warmed it up before I came I’ll get some plates.” Tom nudges her towards the bed. She obliges, giving up because she is so tired. She turns on Netflix and switches it to Supernatural a show the two had been watching together since she found out Tom had never seen it. About five minutes into the episode, Tom comes in with what looks to be two plates of fried rice and sesame chicken. Y/n perks up with excitement when she saw it. It looked to be from the place they tried a few weeks ago and she loved it. He hands her the plate and she practically breathes it in. “Tom you’re the absolute best, thank you so much. I owe you one,” she says with food in her mouth. Tom chuckles at her and grabs a napkin wiping the food off her face. She felt her face grow warm at the gesture. “It’s no problem, love. I’m just glad to be here with you. I don’t understand how you watch this show while you’re eating.” Y/n nudges his side shhing him to watch the show. They watch the show moving their plates aside when they were done. Y/n puts her head on Tom’s shoulder slowly starting to doze off. When he notices, he wraps the blanket around her slowly getting up to leave, and maybe her tiredness gets the better of her but she asks him to stay. And he does.

Next Chapter

Tags:

@https-a1

@faatxma

@stilesstilinskivoid

@meekmillsfrenchfries

@unlikelysportsllamakid

@whoopigol-barnes

@thecurlyhairedgoddess

@dianawritessometimes

@lovebyceleste

@daphnescorner

[yoongsisbae]

2022 End of the Year Recap

rules: post the top 5 works you're most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you're excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you've written this year!

thank you for tagging me lovelies @amethystwritesbts 💕 and @e-cm 💗

Top five works I’m most proud of

The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder: I needed to write it and I am so sad/happy/emotional so many readers resonated with it 💗

Handshakes of a Lifetime Chapter 9: I am proud I got through that chapter dealing with so many characters at the same time 😅 like once I realized...oh no there are actually fifteen different characters and even more relationships it felt like a clown car in my head, but somehow I made it through! And it was a good chapter, at least I like to think so 😊

Christmas with a Vampire: no one else seems to like it but I LOVE this story, okay! I love vampire Tae and Jin, I love the way the world is laid out in my head, I love cyber punk stories AND vampire stories. I love the moodtm (I was so obviously depressed when I wrote it lol cries), I love how in the future everyone* ahem human* is vegetarian 😋 I love it all! Perhaps because I can see a bigger story and it's living rent free in my head lol but I'm proud I got it out and finally finished my x-mas series, very proud I finished something for once lol cries again

Day Dream: omg making sure all the threads of the story were 'woven' together correctly and made sense to readers and not just me lol, also the story itself referenced a lot of shit...life and dreams and some of my fav fics as well 😃 it was really fun to write and I'm proud how it all came together in a beautiful tapestry...of insanity 😂

BTS as Kisses: I love poetry and I should write more of it...and I'm planning to! Proud it was well received. I live for the "cute" comments 😆

Top four WIPS I’m excited for

Bon Voyage, I just love that world 🥺 and I'm excited to make readers a n g r y 😅😅 (don't blame me tho! blame Tae!)

The Snap, I wanted to read a marvel-bts crossover foreverrrr, so just gonna have to write myself one instead. I'm excited 😝

Run Run Run, because I always have fun writing it and I need some laughter in my life....cries 🙃

And HOAL, yes it's still happening, I have not forgotten about it! I appreciate your comments still, like @illnevertrustmyselfagain yes to everything you said, you "get" it 🥺, @myspi2010 too, I ask myself the same things when writing lol, my readers are the smartest and I love it 🥺😭

Top three improvements in my writing

I feel like I have gotten better in some aspects and worse in others lol. Pacing and endings are the things I want to improve on. It was fun messing with both in my story Day Dream, even added an alternate ending 😉

As I was rereading HOAL and BV:ITS I noticed my sentences are more punchy and concise, now my flow portrays that better even if I get more descriptive. I can't decide if that makes a better reading experience or not, but sometimes I do want to go back and rewrite the first chapters of those stories, so perhaps that is considered improvement? lol idk!

THIS IS HARD. um I definitely can say I never could have written stories like The Woman with the Black Cat on Her Shoulder and You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name when I first started, there's so much to those stories that is even hard for me to explain properly, my readers do a better job at it for me 😅 I think their reviews/comments make the stories so much better, so thank you dear readers for helping me to improve myself 💕

Two resolutions for my writing/this blog for ‘23

Somehow get onto one of those author collaboration event story things...wanted to be a part of one since I first opened this blog 🥺...even though I am too scared to ask and am not part of any community, I still believe somehow it will happen 😅 lol

find a way to write all the stories I want and not die of exhaustion in the process cries...writing gods please come visit me in 2023 🙏🏽

Favorite line I’ve written this year

This was so hard to choose! I think probably this line from my Fairy AU You Asked for Help, He Asked Your Name because it feels like energy is transferring into my bones every time I read it, "You gripped it tighter, it was real, it was your freedom in the palm of your hand. It made you cry, made you angry, made you happy, made you stand up." But also there is a really good line in The Flower Bridge that came in close second...should I share it? Is that cheating? 😅 think readers should find it for themselves maybe? 😋

Tagging: @daydreamer-writing @justanotherstarlightmonger @trifoliumrex @jimilter @aris-ink @park-jimin-isnt-real @jiminiesfavouritecolourisblue @bangtangalicious @smasmashie and whoever hasn't done it yet, 2022 is not yet over!

[sourkive]

011 : WRONG BLOCK.

Starring: Zhang Junjie.

Featuring: Song Taejun, Yoo Seobin.

Summary: The tower's foundation is crumbling.

Word Count: 2k.

CW: Sexual harrassment, attempted SA, injury.

Between he and Ahin, Tarot’s production and songwriting was near unrivalled. That had always been their biggest strength; and Junjie’s favourite thing about being a part of the group was the amount of creative control he had been granted as a result of that. They didn’t need any help; but he wasn’t quite so arrogant as to pretend that collaboration couldn’t be an artistically fulfilling thing. He liked it. He liked working with his other members; or with Hayana. Working with Luke had taught him some valuable lessons; and that session had resulted in the bones of Potential Breakup Song, which was still considered Junjie’s magnum opus. 

He was fine with collaborating. Just not with Taejun. 

Taejun is a loser. Junjie had obviously never been one to gossip; but he’s observant above anything else. He knew that something had happened between Tetsuo and Taejun last year. The way Tetsuo had discussed their studio sessions was just off; there was a giddiness in his voice that didn’t match his usual cool attitude. Tetsuo had been rushing to the studio, limping home, and then all of a sudden his relationship with Taejun frosted right over. After months of making Tetsuo’s solo record together, they treated each other as if they were perfect strangers. 

It doesn't take a genius. 

And sure, Tetsuo is a grown man who can have sex with whomever he wants; but he’s also Junjie’s best friend. Junjie knows Tetsuo. Tetsuo pretends to be cool about it; to be some free spirit who’ll bend over for any man with a pulse, who’ll give out blowjobs as if they’re handshakes. But he’s a delicate soul with an easily-bruised heart. Men like Taejun run right through men like Tetsuo with no regard for the damage they leave behind. 

Junjie may not have much in the way of dating experience, but he’s dealt with plenty of men like Taejun. He’s not like Tetsuo. He’s equipped. He shouldn’t have to be, but he is. Even when Taejun is sitting next to him in the flesh, only the two of them. Because Valentine had gotten it into their head that Taejun, for some reason, had to have a stamp on Tarot’s upcoming full length album. 

‘That’s not really my vision,’ Junjie had tried to argue, but Seobin himself insisted that it would be a revolutionary musical pair up. Junjie doesn’t like it one bit. He’d never really considered himself to be much to look at, but he had suspected from the start that it wouldn’t matter. Junjie didn’t talk to Sour Candy much, but he’d heard that Minwoo felt like Taejun was leery towards him, too. A lot of people want to have sex with Minwoo; a far lot more than those who wanted Junjie, but it was enough to make Junjie even more cautious of him. 

He’d entered the studio with an anticipation to be hit on. Taejun takes an hour. 

“You know something?” He says, as Junjie replays the same sample for the fortieth time, more focused on why it doesn’t sound right than what Taejun’s saying. He grunts in response, and Taejun continues. “I never noticed how cute you are.”

“Alright.” Junjie mutters, dismissively, not looking away from the computer screen. If there was one thing Junjie was near excellent at, it was shooting people down. He'd whittled it down to an art form, he knew when to be gentle, knew when to be flippant and when to be cruel. Taejun wasn’t getting the first one. By all intents and purposes, he was staff and not an artist. Staff were forbidden from doing this; and so it wasn’t Junjie’s responsibility to let him down easily. He should know better. 

“Aren’t you going to say thank you?” Taejun asks. Junjie scoffs. Okay. Flippant doesn’t work.

“For what?” Junjie asks. 

“I complimented you.”

“Because you’re trying to get into my pants.”

“And what if I am?”

“I mean,” Junjie tugs his headphones fully off, dropping them around his neck. He turns to look at Taejun, so he can see the look in his eye and know that he’s being deadly serious as he says; “Frankly, i’d sooner hang myself.”

There’s a pause. Taejun doesn’t say anything at first, just stares Junjie down. Something flickers in the back of his eyes, and so Junjie narrows his as if to challenge him. That's when Taejun breaks into a smirk. He lets out a couple of little chuckles; but Junjie keeps his face blank. 

“I think you’re playing hard to get.” Taejun says. Junjie feels a frustration build inside of him, and he barks out a mean laugh. He sees Taejun’s face drop and he knows he’s hurt his pride.

“You’re a washed up old creep. Why would I take any interest in you?”

For a second, Taejun does look hurt. But then another gross smirk paints itself on his face.

“Okay. You know, kid, I've seen this before.” He says. There’s a smug intonation to his voice that Junjie recognises instantly. A judgemental little voice that sounds a lot like his dad rings in his head, about the nouveau riche and how impressed with themselves they always are and how much they think everyone is going to obsess over them. Junjie fixes him with the type of look that quells arguments in Tarot every time without fail.

“What have you seen before, Taejun?” Junjie asks, in a way that makes him sound like a busy mother half-listening to an excitable toddler. He focuses his attention on the soundboard, though he mostly just performs work. There’s a creeping feeling in the bottom of his spine- maybe this is how it feels to truly cringe at someone. ‘Just take the rejection, dude,’ Junjie thinks. 

“Hyung.” Taejun corrects. Junjie just looks at him. 

“What have you seen before, hyung?” He asks. The word drips with spite, and Taejun gives a scoff in return.

“I've seen boys like you.” He says, rising from his spot on the studio couch. His hands rest on the back of Junjie’s chair, leaning in. He stops way too close to Junjie, his mouth right at his ear. So close Junjie can smell the lunch on his breath. “Stuck up little twinks with expensive educations who think they’re worth the chase. I bet you’re the same as them all. Underneath all that posturing, you’re fucking hungry for it. I bet you beg for fucking cock.”

Ice water runs through his veins, and Junjie feels his heartbeat in his ears. He reaches out, as innocuous as he can manage, to wrap his fingers around the neck of the steel flask keeping his water cool. He gathers his nerve, preparing to swing up at him if necessary. “Okay,” he says, speaking slowly and carefully. “If you don’t get away from me in the next three seconds, I’ll smash your fucking face in.” 

Taejun doesn’t back up. Instead, one of his big hands lands on Junjie’s little shoulder, and he leans in further. “You won’t.” he says. His voice is low and gravelly, and Junjie barely has time to react to what’s happening before Taejun is spinning the chair around, leaning in. His lips are but centimeters away from Junjie’s by the time Junjie’s brain starts responding, and for some reason he drops his flask, instead his hands spread wide across Taejun’s face, pushing at him with all of his might. 

it’s a pathetic display of strength; Taejun stumbles back but barely moves, however the office chair does push back on its hind wheels. the wire of the thick headphones around Junjie’s neck pulls taught, and as the jack is pulled from the computer, Junjie tries to save himself way too late. The chair tips to one side and topples over, Junjie falling with it. His right arm extends in a futile attempt to break his fall and finds itself landing painfully underneath an armrest. Junjie lets out a yelp of pain, but his brain is still in flight mode. His head snaps up to the tall man in front of him, and he scrambles to his feet, pushing himself into the corner of the desks, as far away as he can manage to get in the cramped little studio. 

Taejun just stares at him, eyes wide and mouth agape. Junjie’s heart is beating so fast in his chest that it hurts, and he feels like a knife has been driven down his throat. His arm is pulsing and warm, and it hurts, and everything falls away; every scrap of power he’s ever thought himself to have, both in earnest and bravado. In moments like this, he’d always like to think he’d tell Taejun about himself, tear him down to his bare essentials and then dismantle them with scrutiny, a scathing speech worthy of admiration. 

He manages four words.

“Please don’t hurt me.” 

Taejun’s mouth flaps aimlessly for a few seconds. Junjie’s shoulders are hunched, drawing in on himself. He can feel his entire body begin to tremble. 

“I-” Taejun’s demeanor breaks, and he moves forward to place a hand on Junjie’s shoulder, giving him a wounded look when Junjie screws his eyes shut and flinches. “That’s such an over- I would never…”

Junjie keeps his eyes closed, taking a deep breath through his nose. Taejun lets out a noise of disbelief, and after what feels like minutes, Junjie hears his heavy footsteps pounding into the studio floor, and then a sharp slam of the door that causes him to start in fright. 

When the footsteps have disappeared down the hallway, Junjie lets out a noise somewhere between a sob and a dry-heave. His face falls into his hands, and he forces the lump in his throat down, breathing slowly through the gaps in his fingers and doing everything he can to try and slow the jackhammer rate of his heart. 

What the fuck was that? With his uninjured arm, he reaches up to pull his bangs from his face, puffing out a sigh. He'd never had a reaction like that to anything before.

But somewhere along the line of his twenty-one years, after a lifetime of his father’s absence and his classmates’ bigotry, Junjie had promised himself to never shed another tear over antagonistic men and their egos. So he swipes away the tears in his eyes and clears his throat roughly. He reaches out, as if to stretch his arms, but winces suddenly at the shooting pain in his arm. it’s not sore enough to be broken, he doesn’t think, but he’ll have his manager take him to the emergency room later, just in case.

He's halfway through thinking of a lie to explain how he’d hurt himself when the realization of what he’s doing tears through his nerves like a lightning bolt. “Fuck that,” he mutters to himself. 

Taejun did not deserve his protection. 

Junjie straightens out his clothes, picks the office chair up off of the floor, and carries himself out of the recording studio. Down the hallway, into the elevator, to the highest floor of Valentine Records’ excessively tall HQ. 

“Is Sajangnim here?” Junjie asks the pretty secretary outside the CEO's office. She gives him a look that he knows to mean she’s about to politely lie to his face and pretend that there’s some kind of important meeting currently going on, but before she can, the door opens.

Seobin steps out of his office, ‘oh’-ing in surprise at the sight of Junjie. Junjie folds himself into a stiff, polite bow, and as he rises, Seobin offers him his most professional smile. “Junjie. What a surprise. How can I help you?” 

Junjie steals his nerve. 

“I need to report something.”

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 8

Pairing: CEO!Bucky x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: You get a preview of what it’s like to be working with Mackenzie.

Warnings: I apologize as there is no smut in here lmfao but there is a stubborn Bucky lols

A/N: The jitters just never go away whenever I post a new part for this ajkcnjasncakjcnakj I find this part boring tbh but uhh things will start picking up again in the next part I promise

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

Bucky decided to push through with his partnership with Wilson Enterprises. It was a big one, so it definitely required the entire team's effort and perseverance. Apparently, this is the company's biggest, most major project yet so this was going to look really good in your resume. It would also provide you with more credibility to further excel in your career.

Except that Bucky actually hired a marketing consultant to take over the entire project as his revenge.

"Any questions? About the project or about Kenzie?" Bucky asked, standing in front of the conference room, next to Mackenzie.

You confidently raised your hand when no one else did. Bucky tilted his head, a tiny smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He knew you were affected, of fucking course you were!

"Yes?" he called out.

You stood up and sighed softly, "I mean this in the most respectful way, Mister Barnes." you said, emphasizing his name. "But as the head of marketing, what exactly is my role here? Given that Mackenzie was hired to spearhead the marketing aspect of this project." you said, giving Mackenzie a passive aggressive smile.

"I don't want to overstep on some boundaries here, that's why I'm asking. I just want clarity, that's all." you said.

Bucky was about to respond when Mackenzie stopped him, grabbing his arm and squeezing it before taking over the floor. You narrowed your eyes at how her slender fingers were wrapped around Bucky's arm.

"Honey..." Mackenzie started. "There's nothing to worry about, this is a collaborative work between you and I. So think of yourself as my assistant, someone to help me out with the project." she responded.

Bitch.

"I'm not an assistant, Mackenzie." you said, smiling at her.

Mackenzie laughed, "I'm sorry, my bad. I shouldn't have used that term. Oops." she said. "Although, I believe I have more experience in this area so maybe consider me a mentor?" she suggested.

Bitch!

Bucky cleared his throat, "If you have certain ideas, you can discuss it with her. She is a consultant after all. Given her impressive experience in the field, I'm sure you'll learn a thing or two from her."

The meeting was wrapped up by noon and you simply couldn't wait to get yourself out of the conference room. You didn't feel like talking to Bucky anymore in all honesty, not after what he was doing. You knew this was just to spite you, get you to cave in first and give in to him.

All the more that you wouldn't, especially not when he actually used your job against you.

Everyone started rushing out of the conference room, ready to head out for lunch. As soon as you reached the doorway, you overheard the short conversation between Bucky and Mackenzie.

"Hey Bucky, we still up for lunch?"

-

The bathroom was empty when you stepped inside and thank god for that because you couldn't hold back your emotions any further. Tears gathered in the corner of your eyes, not because you were hurt. Fuck no, you were angry and frustrated. So fucking angry at yourself for getting into this mess, at Bucky for being such an entitled prick, at the entire world for plotting against you.

You groaned in irritation as you wiped away your tears, sniffing as you looked at yourself in the mirror.

You worked your ass off for this job, for your position. You risked your dignity when you let Bucky fuck you. You weren't going to let someone take that away from you.

You quickly fixed yourself when the door opened, followed by the loud clacking of someone's heels.

"Omg, are you crying?" Beverly gasped, rushing over to you.

You snickered, "No." you lied, "My eyes are itchy." you huffed out before noticing that Beverly was holding a sandwich in her hand.

"Why did you bring your sandwich here?" you curiously asked.

Beverly shrugged, "The pantry's full and the other girls don't exactly seem to like me...so..."

You shook your head and sighed, "Come with me, let's have lunch out. I need to get out of this fucking place anyway."

"Yay, omg! I knew you were nice! You're like, the only girl who actually talked to me nicely." Beverly said, tagging behind you as you exited the bathroom.

"Oh, there you are!" Mark called out. "I was looking for you. Wanna grab lunch? Oh...who's this?" he asked, noticing the blonde girl trailing behind you.

"I'm Beverly! I'm Sir James' new secretary." she introduced excitedly.

You sighed, "Don't ask me why." you said when Mark turned to you with a confused look, still not sure what happened to Bucky's previous secretary.

"So, lunch out? With Bev?" you asked.

-

You were completely zoning out during lunch despite the ongoing conversation between Mark and Bev, something about yoga? You honestly couldn't care less, not when you were feeling so conflicted about your current situation.

Would Bucky actually go that far just to get you back? Or does he actually hate you for saying no to him and is basically using his authority to make your life a living hell?

"So I heard about the new girl." Mark said, that snapped you out of your trance.

"Huh?" you asked.

"I find it weird for Mister Barnes to hire someone when you're here." Mark pointed out. "I mean, are you okay with that or..."

You snorted, "Fuck no. Look, I'm not gonna be the bigger person here. I was offended as fuck." you admitted.

"Yeah, it's super weird because she was hired through Tinder or something. Is that even legal?" Beverly pointed out as she scrolled through her phone.

You and Mark turned to her abruptly, "Tinder? Wait, what?" you asked.

Beverly chuckled, "I heard them talking this morning and Kenzie was like, 'It's so funny that we matched on Tinder and ended up doing business there you know' and I'm like omg Sir James has Tinder and I have one too but I never saw him there, bummer."

"Motherfucker." you hissed out.

Mark made a face, "Are you okay?" he carefully asked. "You've been really tensed since last week."

Apparently, Bucky never deleted his Tinder and have been swiping right on women. And that's how he met Mackenzie who just happened to be a marketing consultant. Now you were just furious, was he fucking her too? Has he been fucking other women this entire time?

"Hey, Bev..." you said, a plan hatching inside your mind. "Can I ask you a favor?" you asked nicely.

Beverly nodded, "Um duh, you're basically my office BFF now."

"If you ever hear Mister Barnes and Mackenzie talk about hmm, I don't know...something interesting. Maybe about the project...me 'cause you know, I'm the head of marketing and Mackenzie’s in the same field...let me know, will ya?" you asked.

Mark chuckled nervously, "I don't know what's going on but isn't that an invasion of privacy?"

"She's not going to eavesdrop, Mark. She'll just...listen closely." you explained.

"Bev might get in trouble if Mister Barnes finds out." Mark warned.

You waved a hand, "She'll be fine, Mark. She's his secretary, she has to know everything. Besides, I'm not going to let her get in trouble, if she does then I'll take care of it."

Beverly squealed in delight, "Omg, you are not my office BFF. You're like my office mom! You and Mark are literally my office parents." she said, lifting her phone up in the air.

"Selfie! This one goes to the 'gram." she said, taking a quick photo of the three of you.

She then proceeded to edit the photo while you and Mark continued eating lunch.

"Bev, you should really put your phone away and eat first. We have less than half an hour left for lunch break." Mark called out.

Beverly groaned and rolled her eyes, "Way to get into the role, Mark. You're such a dad."

You snorted, "Yeah. Loosen up, daddy." you teased.

"Playing family after just one date, huh."

Bucky's presence in the same restaurant should've really intimidated you, most especially that he just witnessed you tease Mark like that. But you were too mad at him to even care, what was the point even? He didn't believe you even when you told him the truth that Mark was just a friend.

Why even try now?

"Hi Sir James." Beverly greeted happily.

"Mister Barnes." Mark acknowledged.

Bucky ignored them and kept his eyes on you. You didn't falter under his gaze and simply stared back at him with blank eyes. It's as if a staring competition took place when the both of you merely looked at each other, neither of you looking away nor attempting to do so.

"How was that date last Friday, Jim?" Bucky asked, his eyes still trained on yours.

Mark made a funny face at the name that Bucky called him but shrugged anyway. Before he could even respond, you decided to answer on his behalf. If Bucky wanted to spite you, you'd give him a taste of his own medicine.

"It was actually great. We might go on another one this Friday." you said.

"We are?" Mark asked in a whisper.

Bucky's hand landed on Mark's shoulder, "Don't count on it, Andrew. She's going to be doing a lot of work on Friday due to the project." he said through gritted teeth.

You shrugged, "Oh, but I thought Mackenzie's doing all my work?"

"I'm ready to head back, Buck."

Speak of the devil herself. Mackenzie weaved through the tables and approached Bucky, her face brightening up when she saw you, Mark and Beverly.

"Oh, hey you." she greeted you. "Look, I think we may have started off on the wrong foot earlier. I'm not here to take your job, just here to spice things up a bit. Improve your ideas, give Bucky some assistance." she chuckled, holding onto Bucky's arm yet again.

You fought back the urge to grab your glass of water and throw it at her face. As the saying goes, kill them with kindness. So you merely shrugged and extended an arm for a handshake.

"Of course. I would love to improve your ideas as well, you know. Just a healthy discourse between two marketing professionals. We good?" you said.

Mackenzie forced out a chuckle and reached for your hand, "We’re good. I look forward to working with you." she said before turning back to Bucky who was still gazing at you.

"Let's go?" she asked sweetly.

Bucky smirked at you before wrapping an arm around Mackenzie's waist, guiding her out of the restaurant the same way he did to you. You were too focused on Bucky's body language around Mackenzie that you failed to notice that Mark was watching you closely, your expressions and how you reacted towards Bucky.

"I think I know what's happening."

-

"You what?!"

"Shhh!" you hushed Mark and peeked out of the empty pantry to make sure the coast was clear.

Mark noticed the tension between you and Bucky and he came to a conclusion that the both of you dated at one point. He wasn't really wrong but he wasn't right either. So you decided to tell him everything, from the moment you matched with Bucky on Tinder until your last conversation with him last Saturday.

"I honestly thought you were dating, I didn't know there was sex involved. No wonder he had been calling me weird names." he said incredulously. "Was that you and Mister Barnes that Janet reported to the HR?" he asked, stifling his laughter.

You groaned, "Yes. Ugh, gave me a panic attack when I found out about that incident report." you said.

"Hey..." Mark called out. "Thank you for trusting me enough to tell me this. Your secret is safe with me." he reassured.

You nodded, "I think it was about time that I told someone about us anyway. This whole situation is driving me crazy and I don't know what to do next. And I'm sorry for dragging you into this mess, I shouldn't have said that we were going out again. I don't want you or your job getting compromised because of our petty fight." you exhaled.

You had to admit, you felt so much better now after confiding with Mark. It somewhat alleviated the weight on your shoulders, knowing that there was someone aware of what you were going through. Who would've thought that this person would end up being Mark? You did have friends outside of work of course, but you felt like they all wouldn't really understand the situation.

Half would hate you for rejecting Bucky and the other half would hate you for even swiping right on him.

"Do you mind an unsolicited advice?" Mark asked.

"Not at all." you said.

"Ignore him. Don't let him or Mackenzie get to you. Do what you do best, you're great at your job and you'll be fine. That might get him to realize that you're not a prize to be won. And if he still doesn't see that, then that's his loss. You're more than just that hot marketing girl at work." Mark said.

You laughed at his last statement, "Hot marketing girl at work?" you asked, shaking your head.

"It's true. So if in any case you decide to ditch the CEO and move on, you know where to find me." he joked, throwing a wink your way.

-

You wanted to finish all your reports so you could focus on the huge project so you decided to work until around nine in the evening. The floor was already empty by the time you were done. Bucky seemed to be working too, given that he was still replying to e-mails at this hour. Wanting to get all the reports over with, you decided to submit it to him before going home.

During the elevator ride to Bucky’s floor, you couldn’t help but wonder whether he was alone in the office. Would Mackenzie be there with him? Even at this hour? Your grip on the folder tightened at the thought of catching them in the act.

But did you have any right to feel this way though?

Brushing off the thoughts, you exhaled loudly and prepared yourself for whatever it was you were to witness. Upon reaching the door to Bucky’s office, you slightly turned your head to listen to anything. It was quiet. No hushed whispers nor strained grunts-- they weren’t fucking, thank goodness for that.

You decided not to knock and just walk inside like you used to, reminding yourself of Mark’s advice.

Don’t let Bucky get to you.

When you saw Bucky hunched over his desk, typing away on his e-mails instead of bending a certain brunette somewhere in his office, you had to admit that you were relieved. He looked up and his eyes looked dead tired, you almost felt sorry for him. Almost.

“You should really learn how to knock.” Bucky called out, slamming his laptop shut.

“Look, Bucky. I was just rushing to submit these reports so I can go home.” you explained and placed the folder on top of his desk.

Bucky frowned, “I said to call me Mister Barnes.”

You huffed out, “I honestly don’t care, Bucky. I’m not playing your damn games anymore.” you said and turned around.

A hand on your arm pulled you back, harshly turning you around to face Bucky. He was fuming, as usual. At this point, you were no longer fazed.

“You think I don’t know what you’re trying to do?” he asked.

You clenched your jaw and pulled your arm back, “I’m not doing anything. You bring in Beverly or Mackenzie or whoever it is that you have up your sleeve. I don’t fucking care. I just want to focus on work.” you said and stepped away.

“And you should too, Bucky.” you added.

“I don’t believe you.” he said.

You sighed, your shoulders dropping from exhaustion at this whole shenanigan. “I’m done, Bucky.”

And with that you turned around to exit his office, leaving Bucky unsure whether you truly meant what you said. A victorious smirk graced your lips as you walked back to the elevator.

You were far from done.

-

The Match Special Tags:

@marvelslag​​ @weird-mumbling​​ @propertyofpoeandbucky​​ @lostinthoughtsandfeelings​​ @mostly-marvel-musings​​ @squishybabies​​ @megzdoodle​​ @suchababie​​ @annathesillyfriend​​ @xhollycowx​​ @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​​ @gogolucky13​​ @countonthesun​​ @iloveshawnieboi​​ @learisa​​ @borikenlove​​ @scarlet-natasha89​​

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii​​ @jessou893​​ @stealapizzamyheart​​ @bagelofthelord​​ @mxnt​​ @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky​​ @ohladymacbeth​​ @wildflowergubler​​ @supraveng​​ @twinerd14​​ @buckysmar @bakugouswh0r3​​ @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm​​ @charminivy​​ @amelia-song-pond​​ @iamvalentinaconstanza​​ @mcubqrnes @im-squished​​ @tcc-gizmachine​​ @sipsteacasually​​ @prettyintopeerpressure​​ @weloveyasmin​ @est19xxshit​ @bloodhon3yx​ @dressed-in-prada​ @lizette50​ @thatfangirl42​ @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24​ @sugarpunch-princess​ @enlyume​ @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp​ @lyoongx​ @just-deka​ @nobody-will​ @jaziona92 @elisebuitron​ @dpaccione​ @suvikamahes98blr​ @buckybarneshairpullingkink​ @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x​ @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts​ @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03​ @its-yasbxtch​ @whoth3hellisbucky​

[clusterfuck-misc]

ANON ASKS:

May I request Yandere Percy Jackson headcanons? Thank you!!

Can I just say that I had THE BIGGEST crush on Percy in middle school? And it was all because of the overall aesthetic I imagined him having? I’m very easy to sway, LMAO.

Yandere Percy Jackson x reader

This is in HC format.

The reader is gender neutral.

Content warning: Deliberate recklessness, manipulation, paranoid behavior, unwarranted doubt, jealousy, threatening behavior, implied murder, mentioned drowning, implied non canon character death.

ARCHIVED POST. @clusterfuck-yandere IS MY NEW BLOG.

PLEASE DO NOT SEND REQUESTS ON THIS BLOG.

— He wants your undivided attention at all times.

Whether it’s through you listening to him, touching him, or even looking at him, he wants it.

And it’s been like this since you first met.

He was playing volleyball with a couple of other campers when he saw you walking towards the court.

You asked if you could join, and Piper waved you over to join her team (which was the opposing team). Leo was quick to give you a fist bump while Connor Stoll slapped you on the back.

This was the first time he’s ever seen you in Camp Half Blood.

There was something about you…

Something that drew him in…

He leaned over to Grover. “Who’s that?”

“(Y/N) (L/N),” his best friend answered. “A new camper from the (Godly Parent/N) cabin. They arrived while you were out on a quest.”

Percy couldn’t keep his eyes off you as you said something that made Leo laugh.

When you noticed someone staring, your eyes found his.

And the few seconds you two held eye contact felt like electricity.

“Gods,” he mumbled.

Grover gave him a look, but didn’t say anything.

For the rest of the game, he did whatever he could to get you to look at him.

Spiking, diving for saves, being as loud and boisterous as he could, anything.

He just wanted your eyes on him.

And he would continue to do that after the match.

His team won, thanks to Clarisse’s last hit, but he still walked up to you for a sportsmanship-like handshake.

“You’re pretty good at volleyball, newbie,” he said with a stupid grin.

“I wouldn’t say all that,” you laughed. “Most of the hits I got were just pure luck.”

He made a comment about how “luck” was practically his middle name. “I’m Percy, by the way. Percy Jackson.”

“Ohh, the Percy Jackson?” You gestures towards Grover, who was on the other side of the net. “Grover’s told me stories about you. And that Annabeth girl. She has a lot to say.”

His heart fluttered knowing you had a general idea of who he was.

Sure, the stories were probably of him goofing up and being clumsy (especially the ones Annabeth had), but at least they were still stories of him.

“What can I say?” He waved a hand in the air. “I’m kind of infamous here.”

“So I’ve heard,” you answered.

The two of you spent the rest of the afternoon talking. Topics would change quickly as he made sure to keep your attention.

How you listened so attentively made his ego soar.

— He’ll go to great extremes for your eyes to be on him.

And that’s not exaggeration, either.

There have been times when he deliberately hurt himself for you.

Looked away from him while training in the arena? He’ll slice himself with his sword.

“Jeez, that hurt…! (Y/N), mind walking me over to the river so I can heal?”

Got distracted while cleaning the pegasus stables? He’ll discretely ask one of them to kick him.

“Ow… I think I said something he didn’t like…”

Someone else is talking to you while he’s on the rock wall? He’ll let himself “slip” and fall to the ground.

“I’m okay..!! I just… need some help up…”

According to tales from his friends, events like these weren’t out of the ordinary.

But you still couldn’t help but begin to worry for his safety.

And he wouldn’t want it any other way.

“Careful with your sword, Percy.”

“Try to be nicer to the pegasi this time…”

“Slow and steady up there, waterboy!”

It felt so affectionate to him that you were caring for his well-being.

There are a handful of people who notice how “clumsy” he is around you, like Annabeth and Grover.

They don’t know that he’s doing it deliberately, so they tease him about how “distracted” he gets when you’re in the area.

“Don’t let your sweetheart distract you, seaweed brain,” Annabeth will tease.

“Taking falling in love to some new extremes, prince charming,” Grover will tell him.

He’ll make a sassy quip back at them, but there’s no venom in his words.

He’s just glad you’re doting over him.

— It’s very common for him to feel threatened by other campers.

He’s under the impression that your attention is his and his alone, so it makes him a bit uneasy when you’re spending more time with others.

Maybe you’re on a quest with a camper that also sat next to you at the mess hall.

Or perhaps he feels like someone else is making you laugh harder than he does.

He could even begin to feel anxious about how you look at someone.

A mixture of agitation, insecurity, and paranoia fills his mind.

How dare someone else take you away from him.

Is he not good enough for you?

What if you start to hang out with them more than him??

You pick up on his apprehensive behavior easily.

It’s not like Percy to act like this, after all.

If you ask him what’s wrong, he’ll ask you weird questions.

“(Y/N)… do you hate me?”

“Would you… would you ever leave me?”

“Are you thinking of ending our friendship?”

It surprises you.

Was Percy being insecure…?

You ask him why he would think these things, but he only shrugs.

“I just… I don’t know…”

The sudden shyness he takes on causes you to reassure him immediately.

“Percy, you’re my friend. I would never.”

The euphoric effect your words have on his mind causes him to melt.

Even so, he can’t help but continue to be self-conscious…

— If he feels too threatened by another camper, he’ll resort to desperate measures.

And his method could vary from situation to situation.

Is that person who you went on a quest with still sitting beside you at the mess hall?

He’s sending them death threats to their cabin.

“Stay away from (Y/N) if you know what’s good for you.”

And it doesn’t help that the note has the camper’s home address, too…

What about that individual who made you laugh again?

He’ll probably tell them directly to stay away from you.

“Hey, I don’t think you should keep hanging out with (Y/N).”

If they ask why, they’re met with the wrong end of Riptide…

And that person who you sometimes look at?

He asks if they could help him on a quest, only to come back by himself.

“I… I saw them get ripped a part by a drakon… I wish… I-I… oh, gods….”

You’re so quick to comfort him, you didn’t notice the dark look that flashed across his face…

Though he’s mostly discrete about dealing with these people, he’s not afraid to do act out with witnesses around him.

Everyone knows he created that wave to tip Selena Beauregard’s canoe (after tapping you on your shoulder to get your attention).

And that he threatened to kill Connor Stroll for the prank he pulled on you (which caused him to interrupt you and Percy).

And that he even tripped Charlie Beckendorf not-so-on-accident (when his hand brushed against yours after giving you your sword).

His weird behavior spreads like wildfire through the camp, and a handful of brave campers ask him about it.

“Sorry,” he’ll say with a shrug. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Some don’t believe him, but others decide it’s best to let it go.

I mean, it’s Percy Jackson; the easygoing, loyal friend who would never hurt anyone if he didn’t need to. There’s no way he would actually do those things.

… Right?

— He’s great at making you believe the rumors are just rumors.

Despite there being a lot — and I mean a lot — of rumors floating around about him, he still manages to keep your trust in tact.

Never underestimate Percy’s ability to lie and improvise on the spot.

“Percy… did you actually tip Selena’s canoe?”

“Kind of. It happened because I sneezed. Why, are people saying I did it on purpose…?”

“Percy, they’re saying you threatened to kill Connor Stroll yesterday…”

“Seriously—? It was more of a lighthearted I’m gonna get you later… I bet you Connor made it sound WAY more dramatic than it actually was.”

“Percy, why are they saying you tripped Charlie at lunch?”

“Uh… I don’t know. Who’s saying that?”

The way he earnestly looks you in the eyes and doesn’t stumble over his words is too convincing.

So, every time, you believe him.

“No, I didn’t sabotage Lee’s chariot. Where did you hear that from?”

“(Y/N), do you really think I would throw rocks at people? And that one time Clarisse said hit me, you won’t when I was skipping stones across the beach doesn’t count!”

“Travis says crazy things all the time. Why would you believe him if he said I tried to drown him?!”

Although it’s strange that there’s a new rumor at least once a week, you decide to believe him.

Besides, why would he lie to you?

— Grover and Annabeth will probably begin to notice his… behavior.

Up until the rumors began, they mostly brushed everything off as their friend crushing on you.

I mean, it makes sense; the constant glances, the attention seeking, the clumsiness when around you, it all seemed like normal symptoms of a crush.

And they both thought the rumors were ridiculous at first. I mean, Percy? Using his abilities to drown someone? That didn’t sound like him.

But then they began to pick up on things.

Was that him who followed Chris to the pegasus stables just now? Wonder what that’s all about.

Looks like he’s heading over to the Demeter cabin with a note.

What’s he talking about with Piper over there?

It’s nothing noteworthy, but then certain details about the rumors will stand out to them.

Chris is claiming Percy hit him with a shovel…

A Demeter cabin camper has a threatening note that looks similar to the one another camper received a month ago…

Piper just said Percy told her to stay away from (Y/N)…

They both start to get worried.

“These are just odd coincidences, right?”

Annabeth will shake her head at Grover. “I… don’t know…

The more they pick up on things, the more they realize maybe there’s some truth to the rumors.

Maybe he did throw rocks at that Zeus cabin camper…

Or made a pegasus attack that Aphrodite cabin guy…

Or pulled Riptide out on that Dionysus cabin girl…

But what further cements their belief is how content he look, even when everyone’s avoiding him.

And he looks so content because you’re by his side.

— Talking to him doesn’t go as planned.

They both settled on confronting him after the campfire one night.

(The empty spots around you and Percy was almost humorous.)

They asked him if they could talk and walked alongside the river bed.

“So… Percy,” Grover began, “is everything alright?”

Percy furrowed his brows. “Yeah..? Everything’s great. Why?”

Grover shared a look with Annabeth, who took it as her queue to speak. “Well… what’s with you and…”

“The rumors?”

She gave the child of Poseidon a look of surprise.

So he had an idea of where this was going…

“Yeah,” she confirmed. “We’re just getting worried about you, and—”

Percy cut her off. “I can’t believe this. My own closest friends believe some silly rumors of me being intimidating and threatening.”

“We’re not saying we believe them,” Grover defended. “It’s just that we saw you follow Chris into the stables, and head to the Demeter cabin with a note, and talk to Piper about something, and everything has to do with (Y/N)—”

Percy stopped walking.

Grover and Annabeth slowly followed suite, giving each other uneasy glances.

Something didn’t feel right.

No… something didn’t feel right at all.

Grover debated on asking him what was wrong when a relaxed smile formed on Percy’s face.

“I’m always caught in the wrong place at the wrong time,” he chuckled with a shrug. “That’s just… something I’ll never be able to avoid.”

Annabeth felt a chill go up her spine. She looked up at Grover, who seemed to be experiencing the same thing.

“Okay…” she crossed her arms. “Let’s just go back to the cabins, then. I’m sure it’s almost curfew.”

Grover was quick to agree as he began to trot back towards the campfire. Annabeth caught up to him and released the breath of air she didn’t realize she was holding in.

They barely even registered the sound of something uncapping…

— You couldn’t find Grover or Annabeth the next day.

You asked Chiron if they left camp, but he shook his head.

“No… at least, they shouldn’t of,” he answered. “I actually haven’t seen them since last night.”

Weird…

Besides Percy, Grover and Annabeth (and Tyson) were the only people who talked to you anymore.

And, speaking of Percy, he was AWOL as well…

The only time you saw him was at breakfast.

He looked slightly disheveled and tired, but he was acting normal and goofing around with his brother just fine.

After that, he excused himself for something and went to god knows where.

You tracked down Tyson at the forge and asked if he’s seen Percy at all.

“No,” the cyclops responded. “Have not seen Percy.”

You were getting slightly frustrated.

First Annabeth and Grover, who you haven’t seen all day, and now Percy dipping after breakfast?

Where the hell could they have gone…?

You decided to stay at the forge all day with Tyson, helping him out and keeping him entertained.

Eventually, the cyclops’ eye brightened up and ran past you.

“Percy!!”

You turned around to see him picking up the son of Poseidon in a bone crushing hug.

“Percy,” you whined. “Where have you been all day?!”

“Had to contact Poseidon,” he shrugged after being put down by Tyson. “Got held up by some story about a sassy dolphin.”

You scoffed. “Sure he wasn’t just telling a story about you?”

Before he could make a remark, your face contorted into a more serious expression. “By the way, have you seen Grover or Annabeth at all?”

“Can’t say I have,” he simply responded while picking up one of the swords.

You furrowed your brows. “Chiron said he hasn’t seen them since last night… I’m starting to get worried…”

“Eh, I wouldn’t,” he reassured, swinging the sword in his hands playfully. “They’re probably fine.”

“Still… it’s kind of concerning.” You looked down at your lap. “I mean, they usually tell us beforehand if they’re going somewhere, and—”

A wince of pain suddenly came from Percy’s lips.

You looked up to see his hand had a good sized gash on it, blood leaking out of the cut.

Tyson dropped his hammer. “Percy!!”

“Oh, gods,” you muttered, taking his hand and looking at the wound. “What did I tell you about being careful, man?!”

“Sorry…” he gave a strained chuckle. “Wasn’t really watching my swings…”

“Water,” Tyson yelled, frantically looking around. “Get water!!”

“We can take him to the river,” you suggested.

“Actually, can we go to the beach?”

You looked up at Percy. “But the river’s—”

“I want to go to the beach,” said Percy.

The stone cold look he had on his face was… unnerving.

Deciding not to ask about it, however, you slowly nodded and turned to Tyson. “I can take him. You should stay here just in case something happens.”

Tyson hesitantly complied, watching you and Percy walk out of the forge and towards the beach.

The whole trip over, Percy stayed silent and steered you away from the river’s bank. Despite your attempts to convince him that it was easier to go to the river, he continued to drag you north.

It was almost like… he was avoiding the river.

Something happened there.

You knew something did.

You also knew Percy wasn’t going to tell you, though.

So, pushing away the alarm bells that went off in your mind, you continued to walk with the son of Poseidon towards the beach.

You decided you were gonna tell Grover and Annabeth about Percy’s current strange behavior.

… If they ever show up again.

[katsumox]

southern bnha boys: rodeo<3

it's what it says in the title, sweets,, just bnha boys as rodeo boys. i miss watching rodeo invitationals and parties :(

note: a buckle bunny is a person who hangs around rodeo guys because they’re hot and they win a lot :)

warnings: cussing, one (1) mention of beer, general southern headassery.

including: katsuki, izuku, hitoshi, and eijirou<3

KATSUKI BAKUGOU— the south’s biggest rodeo brat.

hell of a bull rider. it’s his claim to fame, really. disrespectfully respectful?? he’s the type to roll his eyes at elders yet still say “yes ma’am” and “no sir” to them, but he slurs his words so it’s more like “yes’m”. he also says that when you’re super mad at him, that’s how you know he’s sorry. also opens doors for old ladies and limits his extensive cursing in front of them, except for the word “damn”,,, that’s a permanent word in his lexicon.

has a big ass drawl in his speech, and it’s really hot. all phrases like, “ that’s my girl,” or “there we are, good girl” also calls you “sweets” and other shit when you do something correctly with him. thinks hell will freeze over before he wears shirts in summer. the best your getting out of him is an open flannel rolled up to his forearms. he works on souping up trucks for the ranch occasionally,, is really mean about the fact that you eat honeysuckle off the ranch grounds because it’s “dirty”,,,bitch,,, it’s nectar?? tf??

hell of a handshake,, the kind that makes fathers smirk and go “that’s a good man” when he’s done. has a small amount of buckle bunnies,,, it’s not because he sucks at rodeo shit, he’s just mean as hell. thinks of you as his lucky charm. you gotta kiss him hard before he saddles up or else he literally will not compete. he’s literally dropped out of a competition because you didn’t kiss him. also likes ranch parties so he can put his hands on your hips as you show him to line dance. pulls you by your belt loop when he wants to go somewhere.

IZUKU MIDORIYA— stable boy at the local ranch during summers.

the sweetest boy you’d ever meet, but he’ll go to war for his mama. very much a mama’s boy; still calls her ma/mama and everything. beat the actual tar out of a cowhand when he heard him say something disrespectful about his mother. lake swimmer. do i need to explain? bc,,, ew. also has a huge habit of saying yes ma’am to ya when you ask for something. known for wearing a wifebeater and some wrangler jeans to work every day throughout the summer.

your mother thinks he'd make a good husband, and she's right. he's sweet, and considerate; he knows his way around a ranch and how to do chores at home. the perfect househusband material in all honesty. quite fond of sneaking sweets to you while he's supposed to be tending to the dogs, yet never seems to get caught. he suspects it's because hitoshi ain't a snitch. also says "i reckon" far to often for my liking, but oh well. that's country boy language.

handshake is kinda weak, tbh. he’s not confident in it, and you can tell, but he grows into it eventually. he’s a huge help around the ranch because he’s fast and the dogs listen to him very well. is a calf roper in rodeo events, one of the best, but wants to start bull or bronco riding. he’d have more buckle bunnies if he were more popular around the ranch, but he just kinda does his job and then hangs around you or the rodeo legacy kids (todoroki and denki)

HITOSHI SHINSOU— the buckle bunnies’ favorite.

like katsuki, a rodeo boy. he’s good at it too. has way more groupies because he’s a bit nicer than kat. known as the playboy around town, but is generally a sweet kid. has a habit of calling you “little girl” no matter if you’re older than him or not. he’s a bronco rider, one of the best around, and wears his winning belt buckles around all the time. not to gloat, it just he genuinely only has prize belt buckles jakskdld. pull him by it and he’ll lose his damn mind.

got you a promise ring with his prize money so that "it'll keep your finger ready for the real one". he's dead set on marrying you. he likes seeing you steal his belts because everyone knows it's his, and by proxy, you're his. makes fun of the way that you don't really care for farm animals, save for the dogs and a few horses. lets you take one out on his break, his large hand up on your lower hip, guiding you and the horse on a slow walk.

also fond of only flannels in the summer, and honestly year round. he’s not very fond is shirts in general. doesn’t like sweet tea, and also isn’t very fond of any jeans that aren’t cavender jeans. he swears up and down that they aren’t as good quality as levi’s or wranglers. takes you night driving on dirt roads and lets you put your feet on his dash. he doesn't do that for everyone.

EIJIROU KIRISHIMA— the south’s knight in shinin’ armor.

chucks your chin a lot, and lets you wear his hat. herding dogs listen to him more than izuku, but only by a little bit. and goes shirtless while working,, almost always, unless he’s fixing a truck with katsuki. then he’ll wear an oil stained white wifebeater. he’s a steer wrestler. it makes sense because he’s so tall and bulky, like a damned brick wall. mothers also consider him marriage material; he's good around the house, he's practical and very respectful.

he has a pretty drawl, like katsuki, when he talks. he isn’t much of a fighter but he will gladly kick ass if someone’s speaking on your name unkindly. nickname around town is "big red" for obvious reasons, and he makes sure to live up to the name. also very adamant on only wearing levi’s to work?? he’s very particular about his work clothes.

has a fixation on calling you his little lady. every time he wins he takes you out to a diner to celebrate, and once, he saved up money to buy you a bracelet with his prize money. also fond of ranch parties where he can drink apple cider and dance with you. he also got permission to drink one (1) coors light with the rest of boys when he's 19 and he takes advantage of that opportunity whenever he can, because parties aren’t often.

taglist:

@smexy-goose @angiebug101 @vanteyves @quincywrites @katsumiiii @mypimpademia @1-800-s1mping @koishiguro @tododekukisses @sobaluvr @silkylious

[youbloodymadgenius]

Ivarello (Modern!Ivar x reader) Chapter 4

Moodboard by @quantumlocked310

Ivarello’s masterpost here

A/N: This is my entry for @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie 500 Followers Fairy Tale Challenge. It's a retelling of Cinderella. Congrats again, darling 💖

A huge thank you to @mrsalwayswrite , who's a great beta reader and an even greater cheerleader 😂

A massive thank you to @quantumlocked310 , @vikingstrash and @serasvictoria . Thank you for agreeing to collaborate and for sharing your talent with me. Your moodboards are beyond amazing 🤩

In this story, Sigurd is alive. Ragnar and Aslaug are dead, but Lagertha didn't kill her. I took a lot of liberties with the show, I hope you won't mind.

Unlike the tale, there will be no magic involved. Not everything will be realistic, however. It's a fayritale, after all!

Let me know if you want to be tagged 😊

Summary: Orphaned five years ago, Ivar and his brothers have been living with Lagertha ever since. Now 16 years old, he wants to attend Harald's traditional Midsummer party, but obstacles stand in his way.

Warnings: description of car crash; orphaned kids; Sigurd being Sigurd; OOC characters.

Words: 2877

Additional note: This is the final chapter. There'll be an epilogue, but you'll have to wait a bit because there are a lot of challenges I've signed up for and I'm way behind schedule.

Enjoy 🙂

🛡⚔️🛡

Devastated and angry at the world. That's how Ivar is feeling.

Holed up in his room since the night before, and despite Lagertha incessant requests, he doesn’t plan to come out, not now at least. Come to think of it, he might as well decide never to leave his room again.

He can't stand the idea of facing his brothers. He doesn't want to have to tell them about his failure. He doesn't want to endure Ubbe's pity and condescendence. He doesn't want to see the look of triumph on Sigurd's face. The thought makes his stomach lurch while at the same time a murderous urge creeps into his mind. No, he definitely can't see his brothers.

Surprisingly, and unlike Lagertha, his brothers have left him alone, as if sensing that entering his room would be as moving into a minefield. Only Hvitserk had taken a chance earlier, cautiously poking his head through the door. His disapproving look obvious when his eyes had taken in the scene before him, Ivar's belongings scattered on the floor, some of them smashed into pieces.

"I got you a chocolate muffin from the kitchen, baby bro," he had explained, putting it on a nearby shelf, and it had almost brought a smile to Ivar's face. To Hvitserk, there's no predicament that can't be improved with comfort food.

"Look, Ivar," scratching his neck, Hvitserk had then said, "I don't know what happened and I don't want to pressure you. You tell me when you're ready, if you are. But I'm here, okay? Whatever the time of day or night, you don't have to be alone if you don't want to. If I'm upstairs, just call me, okay?" With these words, he was gone, the door closed.

Ivar can't get the events of the previous evening out of his mind. Like a waking nightmare, they are playing over and over in his head: how he had freaked out when he heard the beeps; the confused and then so disappointed look you had given him when he sputtered his need to leave; finally, his shameful escape into the night.

What could he have done? What should he have done?

He does know the answer. He should have been more cautious. He should have checked the time, asked for your number and just walked away.

On the other hand, what difference would it have made? He would still have no future with you, right? He would still be a cripple, and you would still be... you... perfect... too good for him.

So yeah, he had run away like a coward. He lets out a bitter chuckle to himself. Run away? Who is he kidding? He hadn't run away, that would have been too easy. Cripples don't run away. Without his cane – why the fuck did he leave it behind?? – he had pathetically limped away, stumbling, his feet sinking into the sand. He had still been on the beach when the battery had died. He had had no other choice but to crawl like a worm the rest of the way, silently praying to the gods that the darkness of the night would prevent you from seeing him like this.

Tears of despair run down his cheeks for the umpteenth time. He's used to feeling humiliated, but feeling humiliated and heartbroken simultaneously is really too much to take. He feels like he's dying from the inside over and over again, cursing himself for wanting to attend the party, for wanting to see you again. He should never have let his walls down, he should never have dared to hope. What was he thinking? He may have walked, and even danced with you, but at the end of the day, he still is a pitiable cripple with stupid, crooked legs, in love with a girl way out of his league.

If he's being honest, that's what hurts the most. He now realizes how delusional he had been. Holding on to a dead dream for years, he had not forseen the painful yet unavoidable reality check. And now, it's like he's been hit by a train. Because there's no denying it, dreaming of a life with you is no longer an option, not after last night. And even though it's almost unbearable, he knows now he has to let go of you, of the idea of you and him being together. As much as this mere thought is devastating, he has no other choice. He has to stop fooling himself, for his own sanity, if nothing else.

Giving a guttural cry, much like that of a wounded animal, Ivar doesn't hear when the front doorbell rings. Not that he would have reacted even if he had heard it, too busy wallowing in self-pity.

***

"Thank you for having us here on such short notice, my dear." Your uncle states joyfully, his eyes sparkling, as Lagertha greets him with a handshake and a tight-lipped smile. Even though you don't know why, it's obvious that she's not his biggest fan.

Your uncle, who doesn't seem to notice – or doesn't care, you're not sure – keeps giving her a beaming smile. "My niece here," he turns his head toward you for a short moment, "has a weird request. She met a boy yesterday, during the party. He lost something and my sweet Y/N has been adamant since this morning that she wants to find him and personally return it to him. We were wondering," he turns his gaze in the direction of the couch, "if it could be one of your wards."

There are indeed three young men, half sprawled on the couch, who get up as one when Lagertha gives them a stern look. If you vaguely remember having seen them before, a single glance is enough for you to know that the one you're looking for is not among them.

You're on the verge of saying so but your uncle doesn't give you a chance to. "See boys," he unceremoniously grabs the cane you're holding behind your back, "here is the lost item. A cane! Fairly uncommon, if you ask me. Anyway... Does this... thing belong to any of you?"

Since you know it doesn't, you're surprised when two of the guys both take a step forward. "Actually, it's mine," they say in unison, each of them only then becoming aware that the other is speaking.

Dumbstruck, you look at one then the other successively. They've got a lot of nerve! You know they're lying, and you would have known it even if these two idiots hadn't spoken at the same time. They just look nothing like your handsome stranger – if he's a stranger.

"Sigurd, you know it's mine!"

"Don't play dumb, you never use a cane, Ubbe! Whereas me, I do sometimes. Everyone knows artists tend to be eccentric, right?"

The blondest one – Sigurd if you heard right – points his finger at a guitar leaning against the wall and then winks at you, "I'm a musician, you know?" You don't even have time to roll your eyes as the other one – Ubbe? – yells, his nostrils flaring.

"Shut up Sig, you're so full of shit! You know I've got a sprained ankle!"

"A sprained ankle, no kidding? Who did a ten-kilometer run today, huh? It's not me! So, you are the one going to shut up, you fucking douchebag!"

It's almost funny to watch them arguing back and forth. If you weren't so pissed off, you'd laugh. But right now, you're mostly mad at them. Their blatant lies make your blood boil with anger.

Are they really thinking you're a complete idiot? That you can be fooled so easily? Who do they think they are? Who do they think you are? Some stupid chick ready to fall for their good looks? If they think that, they're kidding themselves.

"You're the fucking douchebag, Sig!! Don’t forget I'm the oldest!"

"And what's the difference, huh? You can't have all the girls, Ubbe! Keep fucking Margrethe and just let me be! Stop being a controlling asshole!"

"STOP!!!! BOTH OF YOU!!!"

Lagertha's shout is deafening and if looks could kill, these two morons would be lying dead on the floor right here, right now.

"Y/N, my dear," Lagertha gives you an apologetic smile, "I'm so sorry for that. I swear they usually know how to behave, better than that at least. Guess they don't know how to handle your striking beauty. Now sweetheart, tell me, is one of these two knuckleheads the one you were with last night?"

The silence that falls on the room after her question is so complete that you could hear a pin drop. Acutely aware that all eyes are on you, you shyly lower your gaze, shaking your head slightly, as you clasp your hands over your belly. You eventually speak, your eyes meeting Lagertha's, and you can see she knows what you're going to say. "No, the guy I was with last night is not one of them."

"How can you be so sure?" Sigurd's voice is soft and tentative now, and Ubbe adds, seemingly for once in agreement with his younger brother, "yeah, how can you? It was pretty dark after all."

You give them a smile. "How can I be so sure? You mean beside the fact that you obviously don't need a cane? Neither of you?" The third brother, who still hasn't opened his mouth, chuckles, giving you a thumbs up. "Look, I appreciate your interest, I really do, but neither of you are the one I am looking for. Therefore," you look at your uncle, "we should leave, don't you think?" Checking the time on your watch, you shrug. "What about the Eyvindsson family? Didn't you tell me about three brothers? We may have time to go and see them tonight if we hurry."

Your uncle nods, handing you back the cane. "You're right, Y/N, we should leave." Taking two steps forward, he grabs Lagertha's hand. "Sorry dear, we will waste no more of your time."

You're about to thank her when one of the boys clears his throat. "Ahem..."

Turning your head, you're surprised to see the third brother, the silent one, raising his hand. "I think I might know who this cane belongs to." Frowning, he glances at his brothers. "And you both know it too."

"Shut up, Hvitserk!" Sigurd spits, clenching his hands into fists. "Don't bring the fucking cripple into the conversation."

"Sigurd! Keep your mouth shut!" Lagertha glares at him for several long seconds then her face softens as she looks at Hvitserk, placing a hand on his shoulder. "What are you trying to say, Hvitserk? Do you think this cane belongs to your baby brother?"

Hvitserk nods. "I know it does, actually."

"Come on, Hvit, you're talking nonsense. It cannot be, it just cannot. That guy was standing. It wasn't our brother. Our brother wasn't there last night." Ubbe stubbornly insists, but Hvitserk just shakes his head.

"Of course, he was. I saw him. And don't bullshit me, Ubbe, you saw him too. With Y/N." Hvitserk states. That's when you realize that your palms are sweating and your pulse is racing.

Hvitserk keeps going, now speaking to his guardian. "I know what I saw, Lagertha. It was him. I don't know how, but he was standing, Ubbe is right. He was even walking. It may sound weird but I swear, it was him."

Lagertha nods. "I believe you, Hvitserk." A beaming smile spreads across her lips and she tilts her head. "I wouldn't be surprised if Floki had something to do with such a miracle. Go get your brother, Hvitserk, please."

Your heart leaps at these words, you're barely able to contain your excitement and as you let out a nervous chuckle, you cannot help but jump for joy. Needless to say, Ubbe and Sigurd seem much less enthusiastic than you.

***

Reluctantly following his brother, Ivar mutters under his breath, "you're pissing me off, Hvit. I'm fucking not in the mood for whatever you have in mind."

Hvitserk pays him no mind though, a small smile dancing on his lips. "Trust me, baby bro, you'll be in the mood."

Ivar wants to protest, or maybe just turn around and wheel back to his room but all at once the sound of your voice reaches his ears and he stops, frozen in place, his eyes wide open. He may have stopped breathing.

Patting his shoulder reassuringly, Hvitserk whispers, "It's Y/N, baby bro, but I have a feeling you already know. She's here for you, she was looking for you, Ivar. Go..." before giving a single push to his brother's wheelchair, his right hand on the backrest.

Ivar honestly doesn't know how he manages to wheel himself into the living room. What he does know, however, is that you're suddenly standing right in front of him. The heart stopping smile you flash him blows all the air out of his lungs, his heart pounding wildly in his chest, and the outside world – Lagertha, his brothers, Harald – ceases to exist.

A little voice tells him he should be feeling self-conscious with his hair all messy and wearing worn sweatpants, but he can't bring himself to care, not when you kneel in front of him with stars in your eyes.

"Here you are, finally," you breathe, gently placing a hand on his knee. Ivar didn't know until now that one could die of happiness, but that's exactly what he's feeling and he wouldn't trade it for anything.

Swallowing, he blinks several times. When he speaks, his voice trembles, his bottom lip quivering. "Hello Y/N, you were... looking for... for me?" He has trouble getting the words out, his nervous fingers fidgeting on his lap.

Grabbing both his hands in yours, you nod, your thumbs stroking his knuckles tenderly. "I was, yes, and for a very long time."

Shyly lowering his head, Ivar, almost feeling dizzy, can't wrap his head around your words. They're just too good to be true. "But... why?"

"Why?" You giggle, your laughing eyes lighting up your face, and he's positive, you're even more beautiful like this. "Isn't it obvious? I want to know more about you, what's your favorite color, what you eat for breakfast, where you see yourself in ten years. I just want to spend time with you, Ivar."

'Ivar' You've just said his name and it's like the sweetest music to his ears. He can't believe it. Wow. "You... You recognized me?" There's so much hope and joy in his voice, he cringes.

You shrug, your smile never leaving your lips. "I wasn't sure at first. You've changed a lot." Your hand cups his cheek. The sensation on his skin is so overwhelming he has to hold back the tears threatening to gush. Yet, he can't help but think you're speaking about his legs.

He grits his teeth. "Yeah... Standing tall can change a man."

"No! no, no, no," you retort without missing a beat, "That's not what I meant. In my memory you still looked like you did when we were ten, but look at you now, all grown up! Your hair was so short back then." Reaching out, you brush a strand of hair back and tuck it behind his ear before letting your fingers run slowly down and up his bulging biceps, your hand finally lingering on his forearm, "Plus, you clearly work out a lot. So, yeah, I thought it was you, but I wasn't sure. When we were dancing last night, I thought I'd ask you right after, but then you left and... well... I didn't have a chance..."

Ivar wraps his fingers around yours, a frown creasing his forehead. "About that, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have left like–"

You shush him, holding a finger to his lips. "It doesn't matter, Ivar. You don't have to explain. All that matters is that I found you." Standing up, you lean forward and gently kiss his cheek and he feels like he's floating. Intertwining his fingers with yours, you whisper in his ear, "I reckon we got some lost time to make up, you and me. Can we go stargazing now?"

Hearing this makes Ivar's insides turn to jelly. Barely able to think, he is on cloud nine and wishes with all his heart never to come back down to earth again. But despite the daze, despite the fog in his head, despite the blinding happiness, he knows one thing: no matter how many stars he sees, you'll be the brightest one.

"Yes, Y/N, you're right," bringing your hand to his mouth, he gives it a kiss, "let's go stargazing."

And as he leaves the room, you walking alongside him with your hand on his shoulder, his heart filled with joy and wonder, he doesn't miss the thumbs up Hvitserk gives him, nor the scowl on Ubbe's and Sigurd's faces.

For a fleeting second, he thinks he should – he could – taunt them. They deserve to be laughed at, don't they? But then, he realizes he doesn't have time for that. The time for happiness has come, and it's far more important.

Giving you a beaming smile, Ivar inhales deeply before releasing a sigh of satisfaction. Yeah. Happiness. Happiness sounds good.

🛡⚔️🛡

Ivar’s taglist: @waiting4inspiration @honestsycrets @lisinfleur @saldelys @gearhead66 @inforapound @readsalot73 @milkkygirls @xbellaxcarolinax @shannygoatgruff @zuxiezendler @hecohansen31 @lonewolf471 @fuckindiva @tgrrose @didiintheblog @peachyboneless @pieces-by-me @funmadnessandbadassvikings @ethereallysimple @destynelseclipsa @cocovikings23 @xceafh @mrsalwayswrite @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @pomegranates-and-blood @jadelynlace @grimeundglow @quantumlocked310 @alexhandersen-marcoilsoe-fandom @adrille88

Ivarello's taglist: @not-another-viking-fanfic-blog @hashimily @prepare4trouble @supernaturalvikingwhore @funmadnessandbadassvikings @heavenly1927 @dini73

[yandere-sins]

I really really liked that chuuya drabble you did! would you be able to write headcanons for yan chuuya with a (non ability user) reader who is a detective investigating the port mafia?

Aww thank you so much! I didn’t think Chuuya would be the first one I’d write for the bunch, but I am glad you enjoyed it ^-^ Thanks for requesting, I’ll let this be the prequel to the drabble :D

»»———————— ♡ ————————«« 

 ♡ When he first got the intel, Chuuya sighed deeply. Another stupid detective trying to get on his nerves. It was clear to him that you wouldn’t last long, not with all the pressure the Port Mafia undoubtedly would put on you, now that they were aware of the investigation. However, you’re a small fish for him, nothing he cannot handle for sure.

♡ Trying to make contact with you for the first time, his underestimation hit him square in the face. Despite not having an ability, you were attentive and quick to hide as you noticed him getting active and close in on you. It’s then that Chuuya has to realize that your investigation isn’t just some half-hearted attempt from the government and that there might be more and even personal reasons for your doings. Even inspecting your hideout, Chuuya notices you are cleverer than he first thought, only leaving crumbs of information that make it seem like you aren’t deep into your researches while you undoubtedly have more clues hidden away than he just can find. It’s riling him up that he can’t even grasp yet how severe your information might be and how you seem to be one step ahead of him at all times.

♡ What follows is a classical game of cat and mouse. Every time that Chuuya gets closer to you, a rush of adrenaline and anticipation goes through him. He can taste it on the tip of his tongue how he wants more; more insights on your doings and how you are doing it, as well as a real taste of the opponent he has to deal with. It soon becomes way too personal and seemingly unnecessary that someone of his rank is using all his time and skill on hunting down a little detective, and he has to fear he might be pulled off from the case. However, it won’t stop him anymore, his reasonability seemingly thrown out of the window after all he’s been through with you already.

♡ It’s a big - but welcome - surprise when he gets an invitation from you to come meet you finally. Alone. Just the two of you. In no way would he have passed up on the chance. Who knew what the little detective still had on information, and Chuuya would rather not deal with the aftermath of having any of it leaked. So to him, this is a priority and necessity, and he will not risk it by bringing anyone along. Even though he keeps telling himself that this is first and foremost for the well-being of the Port Mafia, deep inside him, it’s already clear he is far too invested personally after you left him bits of information about him, taunting him with your knowledge. He thinks it’s only fair he gets to enjoy getting to know you as well now since you already know him.

♡ And there you are. You - who has been a mystery, an enigma even until the meeting - look better than any image he created in his mind of you. It might be the moonlight shining in through the glass roof of the warehouse you choose for a meeting place, or perhaps the feeling of accomplishment, now that he finally meets you, that is blinding him, but Chuuya is on fire. This is the best possible way to meet an enemy - downright epic. Even if outwardly he keeps his composure, asking you what you want, every inch of his skin is tingling with desire. The desire to finally take you down, to subdue you and make you submit to the Port Mafia, and most importantly, the desire to be the one that defeated you. To have you never forget his name.

♡ So he listens to what you say, your voice mellow like the ringing of bells in his ears, and Chuuya barely able to listen to the content of your words as he gets lost in the subtle gestures you make. He even likes your cocky grin as you make your proposal to him, and he almost agreed way too quickly before he snaps back to his senses. It might have been his intention to face you here alone, but he wasn’t dumb or trusting enough for such a move. This was a war between you two, and Chuuya was winning while you still weren’t aware of his advantages yet. You could research all you wanted, but you didn’t calculate his obsession - with this case and you specifically - into your doings. Inviting him was the worst you could do, and before you knew it, your lack of ability was the biggest disadvantage you couldn’t hide from him. He’d have caught on to it sooner or later anyway, and no matter how tough you made yourself seem, you simply took on too much of a risk. 

♡ Just like that, his trap snapped shut, and he brought you to your knees as you walked up and reached out for a handshake to seal the deal. Immediately you are surrounded by more members of the Mafia, Chuuya not leaving even a slight chance open of this going wrong. You can be thankful he cannot show you the way into the base, knocking you out for further transport, or you would have seen more of the mad grin playing on his lips. Not like he’d let anyone touch you, his prize, anywhere, only his own hands allowed to carry you, while his thoughts jump from one to the other. He wonders if you’ve been eating well after you two began your game of chase since you seem so fragile in his hold, or if he is just overly cautious now that he knows you don’t have an ability. Might there be more reason? Probably. But he doesn’t admit it to himself yet. He also doesn’t like the idea of having to bring you to the boss, but finally, some reason returns to him, reminding him of his duty towards the Port Mafia, even if he wished he could have just taken you somewhere else entirely, hidden you away from any pair of eyes other than his. But he had to do what he had to do, so he’d simply enjoy the time he had with you until you two had to face a new obstacle. You’ve been through a lot already though, this shouldn’t be worse than all the long nights awake, thinking of you and how to catch you.

♡  Everyone has something they want, pushing them to do things to achieve it. Of course you’d be so reckless to meet him in order to get what you wanted, but you didn’t think about what Chuuya wanted. After all these weeks of hunting you down, there was only one thing a man like him could want: You. And now that he had you, he wanted to keep you by his side a while longer, no matter what he had to do in order for that to become reality.

[wenellyb]

My journey in the MCU fandom on Tumblr: Sharing my thoughts on the Falcon and the Winter Soldier, racism in the MCU fandom and the best and the worse of the fandom

I wasn’t going to write this much but here I am… I don’t even know where I’m going with this but since The Falcon and the Winter Soldier just recently came out, I wanted to share some thoughts.

I joined Tumble because of a show I loved but most of you don’t know it “ Hit the Floor”

I stayed on Tumblr for two reasons only, Anthony Mackie and Sebastian Stan.

Before the Captain America:Civil War premiere, a friend sent me the link to the Sebastian and Anthony ET interview, and I was hooked. In just one interview. I discovered Anthony Mackie. The guy was hilarious!!! I just couldn’t get enough and I knew I had to know more about him. How could he improvise so many funny lines on the spot? He was just amazing.

I had pretty much watched all the avengers movie but that was it. I was not involved in the fandom. So I knew Sam Wilson’s face, but I couldn’t even remember his name if my life depended on it. That’s how much the MCU treated him as a side character.

I was like how the f*ck don’t I know this guy?

His talent reminded me of Eddie Murphy, Jim Carrey or Robin Williams, like yes they can make some emotional or serious movies, but when they want to make you laugh, you will laugh. Whether you want it or not.  I kept wondering how this guy wasn’t more famous.

And the banter with Sebastian Stan? Wow, you could tell their friendship was strong, the way Sebastian lighted up when Anthony was talking, and keep bouncing off his jokes. It was art. the way Sebastian said “ I love you” at the end of the interview. Pure gold.

I then started to watch some of the interviews and boy was that a mistake!!! I literally couldn’t get enough. So I watched all and I say all their interviews, it was the best. We got some gems:

“Why aren’t you looking at me as much”

“Which way is the beach Seabass”

*Them saying nonsense in Spanish and then Sebastian Saying Papi Chulo*

 ¨And so many more, ....

I watched other solo Anthony interviews and he was still HILARIOUS, but you could also tell he felt a little bit more at ease with Sebastian around. I won’t pretend I know him or his personality, but Sebastian seems like a little bit more of an introvert and looks like he doesn’t enjoy the interview experience unless Anthony id around him. Just my thoughts

I watched the interviews before I went to see the movie, I even cosplayed as the Winter Soldier to the movie premiere and I was IN!!! When I saw Captain America Civil War, I became a SamBucky shipper, these two were hilarious and I really so the potential for a great realtionship I love enemy to lovers stories.

I also shipped Stucky because, to me, the trope of the movie was Superhero gives up everything to protect his long term friend” Hollywood movies have some codes and if Bucky were a female character, there is no doubt in my mind that the movie would have been marketed as romance.

Stucky really was an easy ship! But then the MCU fandom of Tumblr fandom messed up everything for me. You see I really liked the CACW and I I liked Stucky, I liked Sambucky, and I loved the introduction of t’Challa’s character, but one of things that affected me the most in the movie was that it was the first blockbuster I watched with 3 black main characters, Rhodey, Sam and T’Challa. That, and the fact that they were planning to realease a Black Panther movie in two years, I was super excited, and that’s the main reason I got involved in the MCU fandom so much, when before, I was just a casual watcher.

If this seem weird to you, then you have no idea how we were only getting crumbs before. For me it was soo huge, I even told all my friends, and they were laughing at me. But usually blockbusters, especially superhero movies get one black character and that’s it, usually the best friend or something and never the leads. So, for me it really was a big deal. How sad is that by the way…

I became more involved in the fandom and, at first, I wasn’t focusing on anything special, Sambucky, Stucky, Stackie, the Black Panther, and even Zemo, whose character I really liked.

But soon I noticed that the CACW tags were always flooded, and I mean flooded with the same two white characters: Steve and Bucky. I told myself, ok that’s fine Steve is the lead after all, but it would be good to see the other characters too.

And then I noticed another interesting trend: Evanstan…. Wait what?

Chris Evans, and Sebastian Stan… did I miss something? Listen, obviously I’m sure they must be friends or something, but you’re going to tell me you watch all MCU the actors and you’re going to focus on Steve and Sebastian? I’m sorry what?

Sebastian and Anthony are right there… Or Chris and Anthony, they even have a secret handshake, only the 2 of them do… what more do you want?

Tell me one iconic Evanstan moment… go ahead tell me… See??? There isn’t.

Because of this and because of how badly some Stuckies were treating Sam and Anthony. I became less and less of a stucky shipper . I mainly focused on SamBucky, Stackie and the Black Panther,

And then the Sebastian Stan stans saw how popular Stackie, Sambucky, were becoming and I started to see some problematic stuff in our fandom too.

I don’t want to generalize, but when you go into the Stackie tag, and you see cropped pictures of Sebastian without Anthony, it’s easy to assume that a Sebastian fan did that. And we know damn well you cropped out Anthony because we watched all Stackie interviews and know exactly which interview your picture was taken from. We know that Anthony was sitting right next to Seb.

You post a picture of Sebastian laughing but you crop out the person who was making him laugh??

“but it has nothing to do with race” How do you know that?

“Sebastian had more screen time” More screen time than Anthony in CATWS or CACW? I don’t think so.

“I have been a fan of Sebastian for longer”, that’s fine but don’t go out cropping Anthony, just post gifs of Seb in his usual, sad, and Anthony-less interviews, not the ones where he’s smiling because his best friend is next to him.

Some of you really are the worst. And just so you know, your fave Sebastian is Anthony’s biggest fan, if he saw pictures where you cropped out Anthony, he would block you on the spot.

When I realized that Anthony Mackie would be the next Captain America I was screaming, no actually, I was crying, Sam Wilson will be Captain America, and Anthony would finally get the recognition he deserves.

You would think that the MCU fandom would focus on Captain America or at least one the two leads, instead of just Sebastian? Right? Right? WRONG.

Anthony is handsome, he’s funny, he’s a great actor, he went to freaking Julliard, he’s at the top, I don’t see what else the man can do??? He should already be a superstar, but no, you will side-line him even to he is the lead of the show.

Even when they are the actual leads, you guys would do anything to bring up the White characters even if it means ignoring the Black characters.

I remember I was having a conversation about Black Panther with my friends and I asked one of my white friends who was his favorite character in BP was and he told me Martin Freeman (don’t even remember his name in the movie) Martin Freaking Freeman, there are half a dozen of great characters and your fave is the only white man??? Ok, ok, that’s great.

Don’t give out automatic reply like “It has nothing to do with race, if you haven’t thought about it first”, because there’s a high probability that it is indeed about race. Stop saying it isn’t, sit down and ask yourself, “Am I biased?” “Why am I reblogging only stuff related to the white characters”.

One of these days you guys are going to make me hate Sebastian with the sh*t you are pulling.

I looove the Stackie friendship and the Sambucky dynamic but after seeing the way some of you treat Anthony and Sam’s character, it make me want to focus on Sam’s character and forget about the rest.

 I remember they were some posts about how Anthony was problematic, and I just lost it. Apparently, there was an old article that resurfaced were Anthony was making a joke about women making sandwiches or something.

If you were offended by the sandwich joke, that is totally ok, and I can understand that.

But if you were offended by the sandwich joke, and saying Anthony is problematic BUT you still stan Chris Evans, Jeremy Renner, ScarJo or even Sebastian Stan, just know that there is a high probability you’re racist.

They have all said or done problematic stuff, and people only seem to remember stuff related to Anthony, which was probably just a joke by the way.

Chris Evans and Jeremy called Black widow a wh*re, ScarJo took roles that she maybe shouldn’t have and I didn’t forget Sebastian shady Instagram post, when Kaepernick was kneeling. There are so many more things to be said about Jeremy Renner but google is your friend.

Anthony also got hate for hating on Tom Holland? Like what? Do you guys even hear yourselves? Don’t you have any friends you like to tease? If you hate someone, do you go around talking about him every chance you get? It was obviously friendly banter but some people wanted to turn it into something it was not. Sigh.

I really cannot with this fandom

 The stackie fandom was small at the beginning and the Sambucky fandom even smaller, but we were there and it was amazing. Sebastian and Anthony received the same amount of love from the fandom and I wish we could go back to those days.

Stop pretending the fandom isn’t racist. Stop saying “it isn’t about race” when you haven’t even thought about.

Saying “it has nothing to do with race” only shows that you haven’t thought about anything but don’t want to be called a racist.

There is racism in this fandom and it will always be there, but if you guys want to do anything about it, you have to acknowledge it first.

You can’t be pulling off stuff like “I don’t see colors”, “ it has nothing to do with race”. Stop, sit down, think about it and then we can have a conversation.

If you’ve made it till the end, I apologize for the typos and grammar mistakes, I wasn’t planning on writing this much.

[astranva]

Not One of Them.

// masterlist //

Word Count: 9.9k

Category: Fluff, single mom!Y/N

Warning: Some strong language. Slight mention of abortion. Not proof-read.

Note: time-skip to when covid-19 is dead ok

Summary: Harry is lyrically stuck, Y/N is the new big songwriter. She’s also a single mom to a 4-year-old girl.

Early italics are flashbacks.

..

When you’re a young mother, the world isn’t always the kindest, especially when no partner is in the picture.

While you were young, having had baby Faith when you were only 21, you applauded yourself for years for the effort you poured into raising a child alone – with the help of family and friends, and too many books and videos, but you get the point.

Faith wasn’t a mistake, you hate it when anyone even dares to imply so, but she was unplanned. You were in a toxic on-and-off relationship for 3 years, at some point believing that it might have been an open relationship because of the amount of times you caught your ex-boyfriend flirting with women and men right in front of you.

You had done your part after knowing that you were pregnant after one drunken night that led to a rough make-up session. You approached your ex, sat him down and broke the news;

“I’m pregnant.”

“Whose is it?” He had asked, face falling.

Yours scrunched up in anger, almost disgust at the implication. “Yours, you dumb-fuck! I don’t sleep around while I’m in a relationship like some people.” You had emphasized.

He ignored your comment, releasing a sigh. “You aren’t keeping it, are you?”

You were never against abortion. You were never against planned pregnancy. You had freaked out alright on your own when you were confirmed pregnant, but something inside you told you to hold on to the human inside of you, to that little bundle of oblivion – a little bundle of faith.

It was when he asked you that one question, his tone almost sure that you would abort the child, that you felt angry tears pool your eyes. “I am.”

He wasn’t ready to hear it and his wide eyes showed that, “Wh-What do you mean you are? I can’t have a fucking baby! This wasn’t supposed to get this real!”

“This real?” You had chuckled bitterly, “You stay with me for 3 years, fuck me over more than I can count then you always come crying for me, then tell me it wasn’t supposed to get this real?” You stood up, draping your bag over your shoulder, “I’m having the kid, Will. It’s over between us and-“ you gulped, swallowing back the tears as you pointed at him, “I never want to see you again.”

“You bet your fucking ass you won’t.” He had grumbled, tearing eye contact to look somewhere else but your death glare before you left.

 Besides the university halls, Will had managed to stay out of your sight and you were grateful for that. Pregnancy was a roller-coaster, one you definitely screamed during all ride of, but nothing and nobody prepared you for the moment when you gave birth to your little love.

Your roommate and best friend, Cece, had driven you to the hospital and notified the rest of your family and friends, and you were glad that during that very period of time, you had someone beside you.

It was when you held your little love that it all faded away; the pain, the loss, the confusion, the fright – everything faded away the moment your skin made contact with your daughter’s, watching her with pure love and admiration.

You hadn’t picked a name before that moment, only nodding and smiling to the showering of recommendation from people, but one name wasn’t recommended, not even mentioned.

“Faith. You’re my little Faith.”

“You’re looking a little sick, honey. Have you been eating well? You overwork yourself-”

“Mom, mom,” you laughed quietly, tearing your eyes from watching your daughter play with her cousins before looking at your mom beside you, “I’m alright. Last project was challenging, that’s all.”

“Who were you writing for this time?” your mom asked with pride and excitement, curious to know the name of yet another big celebrity her daughter had been working with.

“Adele.” You smirked as you sipped your juice, hearing your mom gasp with a hand to her heart before letting out a small squeal.

In her dungarees and sandals, Faith ran towards you, making you set your juice aside to welcome your daughter in your arms. “Mommy, did you see me win Tag?”

“Yes! You were amazing!” You hyped your daughter up, pressing a sloppy kiss on her cheek, making Faith giggle.

With Faith standing between your legs, talking to her grandma, you checked your watch. “Ah, shoot. I better get going.”

“Will you be here for bedtime story?” Faith asked, looking up at you as you slung on your tote bag and held your car key in one hand before kneeling in front of your daughter.

“I will be, baby. Don’t give Nana a hard time, okay?”

“Okay, Mommy.”

“I love you.” With one last hug and a kiss on her cheek, you smiled at your daughter who clung to your neck, pressing a sweet kiss on her cheek.

“I love you.” Faith replied, moving to stand with her nephew after waving at you as you left.

“Call me at any time if anything happens or if you need anything, Mom, yeah?” You said as you walked towards the door, your mother following behind.

“Wouldn’t want to disturb your wo-”

“Mom.” You stressed, turning to look at your mom, “Nothing like that. I’ll get going. Thank you for watching her.”

“Oh, don’t thank me. You know I love spending time with little Faith more than anything. Drive safely, honey.”

//

“Hey, Andrew, got you a donut.” You beamed as you approached the studio’s receptionist, a 19-year-old intern.

“You’re an angel.” Andrew sighed in contentment as he opened the box containing his donut before looking at you, “Just adopt me. I guarantee I’ll be the best brother to Faith.”

You laughed, “Think having a 19-year-old son will make me feel old. I’ll pass.”

“Dammit.” Andrew shook his head jokingly. “Meeting with Jeffery Azoff, huh?”

“Yeah, do you know if he got here yet?”

“Like 3 minutes ago.”

You checked your watch again, finding that it was just on time for your scheduled meeting, feeling glad that you weren’t late.

“Alright, I’ll see you on the way out.” You waved at Andrew who nodded at you while raising his donut before you set off down the hall and into the elevator.

Walking out and down the hallway, you approached the room you had agreed to meet Jeffrey in before knocking softly, hearing a distant “come in!”

Gently opening the door and sticking your head inside, your eyes moved to the couch where 2 men looked up at you; one was Jeffrey – you had seen pictures of him from when you worked once with his father – and the other was, undoubtedly in your mind, none other than Harry Styles.

“Y/N?” Jeff asked, him and Harry standing as you walked in and closed the door behind you, approaching them.

“Yes,” you smiled, reaching for a handshake which he had happily accepted, “It’s great meeting you.”

Harry’s eyes were set on you, a small smile on his face that did everything but mirror the surprise he felt. He wasn’t sure why; he didn’t have any expectations but he certainly didn’t expect to see someone as radiant as you were.

You looked at him next with a polite smile as you reached for a handshake, “Pleasure meeting you. I’m a huge fan of your work.”

And God, his stomach flipped and his face flushed at the comment, feeling shy under your gaze as he shook your hand, “Thank you so much. Can say the same about your work, you’re very talented.”

“Thanks!” You beamed before motioning towards the couch, the 3 of you sitting down; Harry and Jeff on the couch, you on a chair across from them. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“No, thanks. Had the biggest cup of coffee just before coming here.” Jeff replied.

You turned to look at Harry, smiling and nodding when he raised his bottle of water.

“Alright, let’s get into it,” you leaned forward, “How can I help you?”

Jeff looked at Harry, signaling for him to talk.

“I know it hasn’t been a year since I released Fine Line,” Harry moved his hands as he talked, looking at the carpeted floor underneath him before looking up at you, “But I’ve been writing ever since but- something is missing. Something is wrong. I wrote 9 tracks so far, all of them are unfinished because I just feel like they’re missing something. I have the idea, have the concepts, sometimes I have the tunes,” he counted on his fingers, “But I can’t finish one song. It’s like I’m, like,” he shrugged, trying to find the right word.

“Stuck?” You suggested, staring at him with an assuring expression which he found soothing.

Harry’s body slumped, tilting his head slightly as he looked back at you and a soft, small smile made its way to his face at how you understood. “Yeah,” he nodded, “Yeah, stuck. That’s the word.”

“I get you,” you assured him, “Do you guys have any sort of deadline?”

“No, not really, no. Not yet.” Jeff shook his head.

“Great,” you clapped, your eyebrows going up, “Do you have any of these tracks’ lyrics now?”

“Yeah, lemme just-“ Harry reached beside him, holding his tote bag to take out his journal.

“Hey!” You grinned, grabbing his attention and making him look at you, seeing you holding out your tote bag to him.

You matched; right on the fabric in the middle was an illustrated design of a small cactus plant pot.

“I have the same one!” You looked down at yours before looking at him, Harry mirroring your actions before a grin broke out on his face.

“Well then, Y/N, it’s set. These will be the best songwriting sessions of the century. It’s fate.” He said dramatically in a joking manner, making you laugh quietly as you set your bag aside and he fished out his journal.

Flipping through the pages, he handed you his journal so you can see one of the songs he had half-written, watching as leaned back on the comfy chair, holding the journal in your hands and reading.

It was excruciating. Harry grew nervous, feeling funny in his stomach and he tried to convince himself that it might be the salad he had eaten prior to that meeting, and not that he was nervous you’d think he was the worst songwriter to-date.

He watched your eyes, taking notice of how you didn’t skim through the words, but read them carefully and taking your time to do so.

“This is really beautiful, Harry.” You said softly, eyes still on the page before looking up at him, oblivious to the breath Harry let out, “Really beautiful.”

“Thank you.” He smiled, discreetly wiping his sweaty hands on his pants.

“Not much damage really. The concept is clear. Post-breakup song.” You said, handing him his journal.

Harry nodded, confirming.

“Are the rest like that, too?”

“Not really,” Harry shook his head, “Figured that the last album had too many of that.”

You nodded, “Yeah, I understand. Just- I say take your time, honestly. I’ll help you with the songs you have, maybe we’d get inspired along the way to write new stuff, too, but you don’t want to force anything, you know? Sometimes some lyrics just aren’t meant to be, you know?”

“Yeah, you’re right.” He nodded.

“Don’t you worry,” you gave him a smile, “It’ll all work out.”

“Well, so do we have a deal?” Jeff asked with a smile, opening his arms.

“I’m in.”

Maybe it was because you said that as you looked at him, or maybe it was because he knew of how crazy talented you were – he had spoken to his good friend Ed Sheeran a week prior and Ed had sworn up and down on your talent and how “bloody lovely! Like a little bird” you were – or maybe it your smile – hell, it might be a combination of all that, but Harry was ecstatic to work with you.

“I’m very excited to work with you, Y/N.” Harry had said with a smile of his own.

“Likewise, Harry. It isn’t that common to find artists as real as you are.”

God, what was with your compliments that had him blushing?

“It’s a pleasure, Y/N,” Jeff, too, had said. “Let’s talk busi-”

“Let’s do that over lunch.” You pointed at him, standing up, “My treat.”

“You always this friendly with clients?” Harry joked with an amused smile, staring up at you.

But your smile dropped and instead, your face twisted to worry. “Oh God, I hope I’m not stepping boundaries. It’s just always a good idea to warm up to each other and- I’m sorry, you probably think this is unpro-”

“Hey, hey, no,” Harry was quick to stand, holding his hands out, “I didn’t mean it like that. I genuinely think you’re friendly. Half of the songwriters I worked with were strict and- Shit, no. Lunch sounds wonderful. Really wonderful.”

He felt like an ass. A proper one. He hadn’t meant to make you feel like you were too friendly but that didn’t turn out as well as he had thought.

“We’d love to, really. Besides, it’s probably a great idea that you and Harry know each other so the sessions can go smooth.” Jeff added, standing up.

At this, Harry found himself smiling when the smile returned to your face. “In that case, there’s a place nearby that makes amazing sandwiches and desserts.”

Jeff’s mind was squeaking from its gears working. There weren’t many people on this planet who were purely kind, and it was something he admired in Harry. But at that moment, Jeff knew he had met one more person who was genuinely kind, just like his best friend and “client” – he hated calling Harry that – and it was proof when you insisted that you could give them a ride to and from the place instead of them following behind you or using the GPS, Jeff sitting in the passenger seat during the ride to the place while Harry sat at the back.

The place was a 5-tabeled one, nothing big. One wall was decorated with polaroids of customers, the waiters and waitresses, the chefs, and another with colorful stick-notes with messages from customers. It was a lowkey place, one that Harry hadn’t visited during all his trips to the studio until that moment.

“Hey, Y/N!” The woman behind the counter beamed as she waved.

“Hi, Soph! How are you?”

Soph stood from the chair she was sitting on, taking a few steps back to show her pregnant bump, putting one hand to it, “Ready to pop!”

You had motioned towards a table to Harry and Jeff who were quietly watching the interaction.

You gasped, “Look at you! And you’re still coming to work? What a queen.”

Soph shrugged, sitting back down, “Got mouths to feed and a self to pamper.” She said before waving at Harry and Jeff, “Hello, gentlemen.”

Jeff waved with a smile while Harry added, “Hello! Congratulations on your pregnancy.”

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles.” Soph replied.

Harry liked it. The no-freaking-out. How homey it all felt.

“Rick will be with you in a sec.” Soph said.

You, Harry, and Jeff sat on the circular table, both Harry and you hanging your tote bags on their chairs.

“You come here often, huh?” Harry started the conversation, crossing his arms on the table and leaning forward.

“You have no idea. You’d think I don’t know anywhere else.” You chuckled, “Been coming here ever since I was in college.”

Harry’s eyebrows went up in surprise, “Really? How long ago was that?”

“Graduated 3 years ago, first came when I was 19 so that’s about 6 years.”

“True loyal customer you are.” Harry said.

“What did you study, Y/N?” Jeff asked.

“Music composition. Was the disgrace of the family.” You joked, “Definitely had no idea the entire time if I would actually work or not.”

“But look at you now, one of the best.” Harry motioned towards you.

You waved him off with a bashful smile, “None of that. I still have no idea what I’m doing most of the time, I just get paid now.”

“Who even knows what they’re doing now?” Harry rhetorically asked, “We’re just, going with the flow.”

“Word, sir. Word.” They heard, the 3 of them turning to see the waiter – Rick – by their table.

Harry laughed, “Right?”

“Absolutely. I don’t remember the last time my plans didn’t get fucked. Just riding now.” Rick shrugged.

Harry raised his fist up for a bump, Rick bumping his fist into Harry’s.

Time seemed to pass as Harry and Jeff let you order for them, talking about the music industry and sharing funny stories while at it, as well as you had discussed your own business as you ate the club sandwiches and sipped on the iced tea.

“What are you doing?” You asked with a funny face as Harry took out his wallet after you had asked for the check.

“Paying?”

“Yeah, no. Said it’d be my treat.” You pointed at him, raising one eyebrow with a smile.

“Come on, I can’t just let you pay for us on the first day we meet.”

“Let’s at least split the bill.” Jeff suggested, watching as you shook your head.

“Absolutely not.” And with that, you stood up and walked towards Soph, paying for the food.

“How much do you want to bet that something will happen between the both of you?” Jeff asked quickly with a smirk, looking at Harry with a knowing look.

Harry’s eyes widened, tearing his gaze from being on you to his friend and manager, “What?”

“How much?”

“I just met her.” Harry tried to reason with him, finding Jeff to be bizarre and irrational. Hopeful, but irrational.

Jeff only gave him a shrug, “That’s a first.”

“That’s enough rom-coms at night for you, Jeffrey.”

At the sight of you walking back towards them, they both stopped talking and instead, smiled. “All sorted.”

“Thank you so much, Y/N. You really didn’t have to.” Harry stood, slinging his tote bag on his shoulder.

“I wanted to. Please don’t mention it.” You had smiled as you replied, the 3 of you putting back your chairs. “Bye, Soph!”

“Bye, sweetie!”

“Congratulations again on your pregnancy and good luck.” Harry put both hands together, pursing his lips into a polite smile at the woman behind the counter.

“You’re a sweetheart. Thank you, kind sir.” Soph joked, tipping an imaginary hat at him to which Harry responded to by holding up the tips of his imaginary skirt, putting one foot behind the other in a curtsy making you giggle.

With no spoken words, Jeff was quick to get into the backseat, pursing his lips to stifle his laughter at Harry’s face, who looked at him with wide eyes and an expression that screamed “What the fuck are you doing?” but he got into the passenger seat nonetheless, oblivious to the light shade of red that visited his cheeks but aware of the heat his face seemed to radiate.

The ride back to the studio wasn’t quiet. The radio was on for some background music but you and Harry were too engaged in a conversation to take notice of the songs playing. Anyone could have asked you what even started the conversation of French toast and you wouldn’t know how to reply because none of you knew how you suddenly began talking about French toast.

“Have you tried soaking the toast in lemon?” You asked, tone excited and face breaking into an eager smile.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, “Haven’t, no. How good is it?”

“God, it’s,” you shook your head, almost closing your eyes in delight as if you tasted the toast that moment but refrained because you were driving, “It’s so good.”

So what Harry secretly wished the ride was longer? He wanted to talk about French toast. That was definitely why.

“Y/N, it’s a pleasure working with you.” Jeff said, “Thank you for the food.”

“It’s no problem.” You smiled at him, turning around to look at him once you were parked.

“I’ll wait for you in the car.” Jeff said, patting Harry’s shoulder before getting out of the car.

Harry took a breath, slapping his hands against his thighs, “Well, that was fun.”

You nodded, looking back at him with a bashful smile that you mentally scolded yourself for; why were you getting bashful?

“Is it alright if I take your number from Jeff?” Harry asked quickly, “Uh, so we can schedule meeting up for the sessions.” He quickly added, “The writing sessions.” He nearly cringed at his addition and he guessed you caught on because you giggled quietly before straightening your posture.

“Actually, Jeff has my business number. Maybe you can just, take my personal one so I can reply faster. You know, the sooner the better.” You cleared your throat, nodding to yourself.

Harry’s lips stretched into a side smile as he looked at you before he coughed and nodded, “Definitely. The sooner you reply, the sooner we meet. For the writing sessions.”

“Yeah and I can give you the lemon toast recipe.” You said before your eyebrows rose up, “For business purposes, of course.”

Harry’s smile widened at that, holding out his phone for you to take after he unlocked it. “I’d love that.”

You typed in your number before handing his phone back to him, watching as Harry glanced down at it before your phone began ringing, “And that’s mine.” He said, watching you unlock you phone and type before you locked it back.

“Then it’s settled.”

“I’ll text you.” He smiled before opening the door and standing out, ducking to look at you, “Next time, lunch is on me.” And with that, Harry gave you a wave before closing the door and walking away, only giving you a smile over your shoulder and another wave before getting into the car with Jeff.

After getting some snacks from the grocery’s with a shit-eating grin on your face, you drove back to your mom’s to pick Faith up.

You stood on the other side of your car, watching the door open before you saw Faith, her backpack on her back with her grandma standing behind her.

At the sight of her Mommy, Faith was quick to grin before running to you and into you arms as if she hadn’t seen you 4 hours ago.

You hugged your daughter, pressing a kiss to her hair as you did. “Did you have fun?”

Faith nodded before she pulled away from the hug, still keeping her arms around you, “What about you? Did you have fun, Mommy?”

You almost blushed as you remembered, opting to reply a simple reply instead of getting into details. “I did. Ready to go?”

//

After giving Faith a shower and giving yourself one, too, you and Faith were sat in the comfort of your cozy apartment, sitting on the couch and watching The Greatest Showman for the umpteenth time seen as it was Faith’s favorite. With her cheddar cheese and lettuce sandwich in her right hand and favorite dinosaur toy in the other – a “Megalosaurus not a T-Rex, Mommy” – Faith was cuddling into your side while one hand of yours played with her wild hair as the other tapped absentmindedly on your phone’s screen, eyes set on the television.

“And if it’s crazy, live a little crazy.” Faith sang along with Hugh Jackman, eyes wide as if she was seeing the movie for the first time.

“You can play it sensible, a king of conventional.” You joined her, peppering kisses on her cheek causing her to squeal and giggle.

As Faith sang along with the song, you opened your phone’s camera before switching it to video, flipping the camera so that it was the front one. You started recording, the screen showing you your face as you smiled with pride, tilting it so Faith was shown as she sang, unaware of you recording.

Only 12 seconds into the video, a message pop-up had your eyes traveling to it, falling on a text preview from none other than the young man you were with that day – Harry.

‘Hey, Y/N. Sorry to bother but would you be able to send me that lemon toast recipe? Might treat myself to it tomorrow morning. Sorry for the bother. :) Harry’

After stopping the video and opening the text and reading it, if it weren’t for Faith, you wouldn’t have known that you had a grin on your face.

“Why are you smiling so big? Did Auntie Cece send a picture of her cat?” She had asked, looking up at you with curiosity.

Looking down at her, you laughed slightly at yourself. “No, she didn’t.”

“You look happy.”

There were many things you loved about your daughter, many things you were in awe at. As only a kid, Faith was one of the most empathetic people in your life and that moment as you both cuddled on the couch was proof.

With a matching grin, Faith’s eyes twinkled with glee at the sight of her smiling mom, curious to know the reason.

“They aren’t singing This Is Me yet!” Faith added, knowing that the both of you usually laughed and giggled while singing that song, only because you always sang it so dramatically and at the top of your lungs.

“Just happy you’re finally done with the sandwich because now I can do this!” And with that, you tickled her, Faith breaking into laughter and giggles as she tried to stop you.

5 minutes later, Faith was back to watching the movie while you typed a reply.

‘hey, harry! it isn’t a bother 😊 i’ll write it down and send it in a moment :))’

‘Thank you! x’

And you wrote it down and sent it to him, adding little notes, too just to make sure that he perfected the toast.

‘let me know how that goes for you :) x’

‘Will do, love. Talk to you soon. Goodnight :) x’

‘goodnight, harry x’

As if your little love took that as a sign, you looked down at her as you felt her body grow heavier against you and noticed her breath get steady, seeing her eyes closed as she snoozed.

Carefully, you turned off the television before holding her with your arm so she didn’t fall down as you stood, bending to carry her before kneeling a little to grab her fallen dinosaur, letting out a tiny groan as your back ached.

Tucking her in her bed, you sat beside her for a moment, brushing her hair back softly before bending to kiss her forehead.

“Story?” She sleepily asked, struggling to open her eyes.

You chuckled, “You’re already asleep, nugget.”

She hummed, still struggling to open her eyes, “Okay. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” You smiled before standing up, walking towards her small vanity and turning on her star light lamp.

Just as you were out of the door, you lingered, turning to look back at your daughter, “Was I really smiling big?”

In her sleepy state, Faith managed to reply. “Very big, Mommy.”

You chuckled to yourself and shook your head before walking out and towards your own room.

//

Harry felt like a kid. He was too excited that morning to get up and get on with his breakfast, wanting to deny that it wasn’t because he wanted a reason to text you, but who was he trying to lie to? No one, he was alone.

He followed the recipe, chuckling and laughing to himself during some moments when he was about to fall for some mistakes before reading your notes and saving his toasts, as if you were sitting right there and monitoring him.

His playlist was playing from his phone that he held in his hand, and he was humming along as he placed the two toasts on a plate before adding some powdered sugar to them and grabbing his juice.

Before eating, Harry had taken his time in taking a picture of his breakfast, thankful for the natural light his kitchen window was giving for his little photoshoot.

He was just as much nervous as excited as he sliced up a piece before taking a bite, taking his time to taste his work and his eyebrows shot up and he blinked twice in surprise.

It was so good.

While eating another slice, Harry held his phone and opened his messages app, going to your contact.

Attaching the best picture from his breakfast photoshoot, he added a text with it,

‘Tastes incredible! Would have burned it to coal if it weren’t for your notes hahah x’

And he put his phone back on the table, open at your messages as he continued eating while listening to music.

He was mid-sip of his juice when you replied and Harry hated how excited he got because the next thing he knew, he was having a coughing fit that had him go tearful before finally calming down.

‘looks incredible, too! oh trust me, i know. burned a fair amount of toasts on my own so i decided to spare you the damage. you’re a quick learner :)) x’

That morning, you and Harry exchanged multiple texts, drifting from his breakfast to how you both wished to have dogs.

It was around 4 when you were driving back with Faith from her gymnastics practice when Harry called, thankfully just as you were unlocking the door to your apartment.

“Hey.” You smiled to yourself as you answered, taking off your shoes by the door beside Faith’s before closing the door behind you, watching as Faith went to the bathroom to wash her hands.

“Hi,” Harry, too, was smiling to himself as he held the phone close to his ear, “I was walking around and I found this tiny restaurant that reminded me of where you took us yesterday and, apparently they make the best Italian pizza. Was wondering if you wanted to grab pizza with me and we can talk about, you know,” he chuckled, “The sessions.”

You thought, mind instantly going to who would watch Faith as you went before your eyes fell on your daughter who came back, whispering to you if she should wait for you in the bathroom seen as you were on the phone.

“One second,” you said to Harry before moving the phone from your ear and muting the sound, “Yeah, baby, do that. I’ll be with you in a minute.”

You unmuted, “Hey, sorry about that.”

“No worries.”

He was growing nervous at how you were yet to reply to his suggestion, having already had been nervous enough to suggest and call in the first place.

“Pizza and talking sound lovely.”

He released a breath, smiling to himself. “Great, great! Pick you up at 6?”

“Sure, yeah. 6 is great. I’ll go now. See you soon, Harry.”

“See you soon, Y/N.”

You didn’t trust strangers to watch your daughter, didn’t exactly trust strangers in your house unattended, too. It’s why at times when you couldn’t drive the 40-minute drive to your mom’s, your best friend, Cece, was always your go-to and that was especially nice because she also lived two buildings away.

Cece’s job was one from her home, making food and delivering it to people while she managed her business on her own through social media and it was why most of the time, she was home and always happy to have her goddaughter keep her company.

After calling Cece to make sure she was okay with babysitting Faith for some time and her assuring you that she was, you prepared dinner for your daughter after giving her a shower.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me leaving, baby?” You asked as you sat with Faith while she ate the pasta you made her.

It wasn’t frequent of you to leave Faith for anything but work. Maybe for a night out with some friends every now and then but you always went out with them for 3 hours tops before you began feeling guilty for leaving your daughter and going back to get her so you can spend time together instead.

And it wasn’t like you were frequently going on dates either. Cece had pushed you into it when Faith was 2, and you did go out a few times with different people, all whom you never heard of whenever they knew that you had a daughter and then you decided that maybe the single mom life was just too welcoming of you.

Hell, you didn’t know whether you should call having pizza with Harry a date. It wasn’t, was it? Not that you’d mind but it was for business, wasn’t it? Strictly business. Or maybe it wasn’t and that was fine by you- and now you were beginning to feel like a teenager again. Great.

“Mommy,” Your 4-year-old huffed, rolling her eyes, “I’m a big girl. You should have more fun.”

You couldn’t believe that you were getting advice from a 4-year-old, especially your daughter, but you deserved that.

“When did you get so big?” You rhetorically asked, “Thank you for being understanding, Nugget.”

Faith smiled at you, kicking her legs as she ate. “Where are you going?”

Now that question you weren’t prepared for, as much as you thought about it.

You couldn’t risk telling too much to Faith, knowing that she got excited over new people and couldn’t risk disappointing her if Harry ended up being, well, not one to stick or friendly to kids of single moms.

But at the same time, your daughter was your best friend. It was because of your honesty with her and how you acknowledge her and treat her that she was an understanding and empathetic person who could hold a conversation.

“Well, you know Harry Styles? The man who sings Canyon Moon?” You asked, knowing that that song was on her top favorite songs list after she had heard it once on the radio as you were driving her to her practice.

She nodded, “The pretty man with drawings?”

She had been curious to see the face behind her favorite song and once you showed her a picture, her smile got big and she had said that he was “very pretty” and had “nice drawings that she wanted to color in” meaning his tattoos.

You chuckled, “Yes, that one.” Again, Faith nodded. “Well, I’m helping him with his songs and I’m going to have dinner with him tonight.” You said, crossing your arms on the table.

Faith dropped her fork, looking at you with wide eyes and an open mouth, causing you to laugh heartfully at your daughter. “Mommy, really?!”

You nodded, opening your phone’s camera to record her, Faith not caring.

“Mommy you’re meeting Harry Styles!”

“I am,” you laughed, “Are you happy?”

“Very happy I’m going to cry!” She gasped, “Can I see him? Please, Mommy, please!”

“I don’t know, Nugget. I might have to ask him.”

“Do you think he’ll say no?” She frowned, “I can wear my Harry dress!”

And by her Harry dress, she meant the Fine Line black tee you had bought her, and even though it was sized small, she was only a toddler so you had resulted for her to wear it as a dress after you had trimmed it and its sleeves and had your mom fit it as tight as she could without damaging it. Needless to say, whenever your daughter wore the oversized tee dress, you had to snap multiple pictures of her because she always looked too adorable and fashionable in it.

“I don’t know what he’ll say but I’ll ask him. And yes, you can. You always look adorable in it.” You smiled, still recording her.

“Can you tell him I love his songs? I love Canyon Moon so much an-Oh! And Sunflower, too!” She grinned, “Are you going to show him this video?” Faith asked as she looked at you.

You shrugged, “You want me to?”

She nodded excitedly before looking at the camera, “Mr. Harry, I love you very much, sir. I hope I can see you but Mommy said she’ll ask you so please say yes. Make Mommy happy, not sad. Goodnight, sir.”

Your heart might have as well exploded that moment as she waved before you ended the video.

As if he was waiting for you to finish, your phone began ringing the moment you stopped recording, finding Harry calling you which made you instantly pick up the moment Faith began eating again.

“Hey, do you like strawberries?” He asked, the moment you picked up.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion but a silly smile took over your face nonetheless, “Uh, yes?”

“Alright, great. I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

//

To make matters easier, once Harry had texted you that he was 2 minutes away, you grabbed your bag and left your apartment and into the elevator before walking outside your building, just in time to see a yellow Ferrari Dino pull up.

You smiled at him, watching as he parked before getting out, “Did I keep you waiting for long?” He asked as he approached you.

“No, just came down.” You answered, watching as he reluctantly slightly opened his arms. He was a hugger.

You wrapped your arms around him in a greeting hug, taking notice of how good he smelled. Just as good as he looked; he was in off-white textured knit Wales Bonner polo, paired with his Gucci flared denim pants and off-white Converse. Nobody should be allowed to look that good in casual clothes.

It wasn’t like Harry’s mind wasn’t doing flips at that moment, too. Instead of smelling like overpriced perfume, you smelled like coconut and roses; a refreshing smell that made Harry’s smile deepen enough for his dimple to make appearance. You, too, were in casual clothes; violet colored cropped culottes, a white tee tucked inside, white sneakers on, a black and white cross-bag and your hair was up in a messy ponytail that was kept by a hairband but you wrapped a black and white head bandana around the band just for the looks.

You looked effortlessly beautiful.

You both walked to his car, Harry opening the door for you before grabbing something from the passenger seat before you sat – a bouquet of strawberries.

“Didn’t know what type of flowers you like so,” he said before extending the bouquet towards you with sweetest and giddiest smile, “Hope that’s okay.”

You almost melted, your face changing to a pout as your head tilted to look at him while you accepted the bouquet, “This is so nice of you. Thank you, I love it.”

Alright so you don’t get strawberry bouquets to people you aren’t going on dates with, right?

The ride to the little pizzeria was nice – comfortably nice. You had shared the strawberries there and your stomach did a thousand flips when you offered Harry one only to have him open his mouth,

“I’m driving.”

And then he opened his mouth again, biting the strawberry you offered with your hand, laughing when it was about to drip on him if it weren’t for your fast reflexes – thank motherhood for that – as you held out your other hand beneath his chin.

By sharing strawberries, you mean you ate some as well as fed Harry some.

You both mentally took notice of how conversations flowed so effortlessly between you, as if you had met years ago and not just a day. Hell, even the texts were random and messy as well as entertaining and fun.

The drive wasn’t a long one, only about 20 minutes before Harry was parking in front of a place called ‘La Pizza’.

You both went outside the car, you waiting for Harry by your side as he walked towards you.

You might as well have melted right there and then when you felt Harry’s hand, very gently, on your back. It was very gentle, you almost didn’t notice and you felt that he was just making sure that he wasn’t making you uncomfortable but it was a reflex action of his. Nonetheless, you appreciated the concern and decided to show him that it was okay to touch you when you touched his arm as you both walked through the door.

Harry gulped, feeling hot as you touched him and he almost scolded himself because it only lasted for a second, yet there he was, getting flustered already. What the fuck was going on with him?

A waitress greeted the both of you, smiling widely as she motioned for you to follow her inside the place.

“There are more tables on the roof, would you want to check that?”

Harry looked at you the same moment you did at him, both of you nodding to each other to say that you wouldn’t mind.

“That would be great, thank you.” Harry said, smiling politely at the waitress who nodded and walked in front of you with the both of you following her up the stairs, Harry’s hand now more comfortably on your back as he walked behind you.

The roof was beautiful; cliché but beautiful fairy lights of small globe bulbs hung above the place, only 3 tables there, each at a good amount of distance from each other.

“Would you want to sit here or downstairs?”

Harry looked at you, you giving him a nod. “Here would be fine.”

The waitress nodded before guiding you towards a 2-chaired table. Harry had sat you down first before moving to his chair.

“Thank you.” You both said in unison as the waiter placed 2 menus in front of the both of you.

“I’ll be back to take your orders.” She smiled before leaving.

“Looks good.” You smiled at him before looking down at the menu.

“Didn’t know they had a roof.” Harry said, “This saved me.” He chuckled.

You looked up with confusion, “Saved you from what?”

Harry shrugged, now growing nervous. “Uh, wasn’t sure if taking you out for the first time here was chivalrous enough because it felt too casual, like a friends thing and not a date but now here seems right.”

He wished the ground he was on would split and swallow him whole. Wished to crawl up a hole and cry.

There were things he was practicing on on the way to you; like how he would hide that he was a nervous wreck, how he was excited to spend time with you, how he knew almost every single song you worked on, and finally, how he wouldn’t spill that he thought that was a date, no matter how much he wanted it to be.

You were amused. Contrary to how Harry truly felt, you thought it was nice that he was straightforward.

“Figured this wasn’t too casual the moment you gave me the strawberry bouquet, Harry.” You smiled, assuring him that you were okay with this being a date.

Looks like it wasn’t business after all.

Harry chuckled, raising an eyebrow, “That was nice, wasn’t it?”

You laughed, “Yes. Don’t think I was ever given a bouquet of fruit so yeah. Really nice.”

You both went through the menu, commenting on some plates and ingredients as you did and contemplating together.

“Maybe we should just get two pizzas and share, so we can try more than one option.” You suggested.

“Good idea.” He agreed, “What do you think of Quattro Formaggi?”

“Ooo, yes.” You then pointed on another topping, “Pizza Melanzane?”

“Yes.” Harry closed his menu with a nod.

Shortly after, your waitress came back and took your order before leaving.

“Finished a song yesterday.”

Your eyes widened as you took a sip of water before putting the glass back down, “Really?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah. A new one.”

“You mean you wrote a new one? Not finished writing one you already had?”

Again, he nodded, putting his arms on the table. “New. Very much new.”

You grinned at him, “That’s amazing. What is it about?”

Alright maybe he didn’t think that one through. He did write a song the previous night and he was proud of it and his gut did tell him that it would make it to the list of his next album, but telling you about it on your first – and he hoped it wasn’t the last – date? Well, not so ideal.

“It’s about opening up to someone new. Trying love again and unraveling yourself to the other person.”

Maybe it was because of your situation, but your breath hitched in your throat.

“You know when you get fucked from an ex and love as whole and you think that you don’t want to go through that again and you, like, close off,” Harry explained, “And it’s like you’re immune to feeling any sort of love or interest in anyone after that. Sure, maybe some sexual attraction here and there, but never something wholesome, you know?” He motioned with one of his rings clad hands as he talked, “But then you meet someone and you feel like a teenager or something,” he chuckled, “And it’s a nice feeling, it’s wonderful, that you start thinking that, hey,” he tilted his head, “Maybe I can do this again.”

You were speechless.

You were a woman of words, hell, you worked with words, but right then, you barely remembered the alphabets.

“You- You get me, right?” Harry asked.

You broke out of your trance, nodding absentmindedly, “Yeah, yeah, I,” you paused, an airy chuckle leaving your throat, “Man do I get you.”

He smiled in amusement, “Relatable?”

“Too much, you had me by surprise.” You answered honestly, releasing a breath.

It wasn’t a surprise to Harry that somebody broke your heart; it was always the good ones who got their hearts broken and got fucked over, always the givers.

But he couldn’t shake the feeling of shock at who would possibly have you at arm’s length, with the ability to kiss and cuddle you, and decide to break your heart?

See, maybe Harry had just met you but you know when you meet someone good. Someone kind. Especially when you’re in an industry that is full of shitty people and too many cold snobs.

“When was it?”

You understood his question, understanding that he meant to ask you about when your heart got broken – when somebody fucked you over.

“5 years ago.” You answered, “You?”

“2.”

“Cheers.” You joked, raising your glass of water to clink it to his, chuckling when he did clink them.

“5 years is a long time.” He commented, gentle with his tone as were his eyes.

“It is,” you agreed, “Got over him, really.”

“You met someone after?”

His question made you think again of your answer, causing you to giggle before correcting yourself, “Got over him as a person but not over the whole thing.”

Harry chuckled, “So no.”

You shook your head, “No. Didn’t have the heart to.” And even though your sentence carried double meanings, you took a mental note of that same sentence just for future songwriting sessions. “What about you? Met anyone after it?”

“Not really,” he shook his head, “Friends set me up with some people but it never went further than a day.”

“You don’t click?”

“No,” Harry answered before a small smile made its way to his face, “I didn’t.”

Your face grew hot, breaking eye contact to glance beside you for a moment.

“How long did it take to write that song yesterday?” You asked, turning back to look at him, growing more flustered to see that he was already looking at you with the same smile.

“Think 25 minutes.”

Your eyes widened, “Inspiration really did hit you, Harry, huh?”

“Grabbed the journal and guitar and I just ran to the studio at home, and it just,” he shrugged, “Happened.”

“Let it keep hitting you like that and we won’t be working together.” You said with a smirk.

“Then I’ll purposely distract myself whenever it hits me so I can see you.” Harry was quick to reply, a smug smile of his own on his face.

“Oh my God.” You whispered under your breath, shaking your head as you covered your face, hearing Harry laugh before feeling his hands on yours, guiding them down.

Shortly after, your waitress was back with your orders; both pizzas looking mouthwatering.

You and Harry decided against utensils, exchanging slices with your hands and granted, as Harry had said, they did make the best Italian pizza.

//

After the pizza and paying, you and Harry had grabbed ice cream from the parlor right next to the pizzeria before sitting in the car, remaining parked as you laughed about everything and anything.

“And I had no idea that Paul McCartney was right behind me the entire time. It was awful!” You finished, laughing more at how hard Harry was laughing at your story.

“Would’ve changed my name and moved out of this planet if I were you.” He teased you as he regained his breath.

“Oh, shut up!” You laughed, rolling your eyes at him.

Harry laughed, reaching out to place a hand on yours, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Embarrassing shit happens to me everyday, too. On stage is the worst.”

You tried to ignore the tingly feeling that rushed within you at his hand over yours, but good heavens, you were a goner. “The falls?”

“At some point I thought it was good my tour got postponed because I see myself falling during most of the songs. Imagine Watermelon Sugar, I’d be a clown.”

You laughed, “Probably so,” you teased him, batting your eyelashes jokingly when he feigned shock, “But really, you’re an amazing performer. I actually have been to one of your shows once.”

Harry’s eyes widened and as did his smile, “No way.”

You nodded, “The one in Glasgow in November.”  

“You’re telling me that we were in the same room and-“ Harry paused, shaking his heads as he let out a chuckle of disbelief, “Wow. Alright. Did you have anyone with you?”

“Was just me and Faith.” You answered nonchalantly, only realizing once you did before your looked intently at Harry.

“Is that a best friend?” He asked, “Did they enjoy the show?”

“She did, yeah. Very actually,” You chuckled, remember how surprised you were at how 2-year-old Faith at the time was actually very interested and was dancing in your arms the entire time. “And she is my best friend at some point but she’s my daughter.”

You didn’t know what you were expecting but you definitely weren’t expecting Harry to grin excitedly.

“You have a daughter?”

“Uh, yeah,” you nodded, a small smile on your face as you inspected him, “I do. She turns 5 in December.”

Harry only seemed to get more excited at the news, which made your heart flutter at the sight of.

“Do you have a picture?”

“Yeah, of course,” you smiled more then, eager to show him your beautiful girl before unlocking your phone and opening your photos album, only to find the most recent addition to it – the video. “Hey, actually, she wanted me to show you something.”

You gave Harry the phone to watch better, most of the time keeping your eyes on him. Harry’s cheeks sported a shade of red at how highly your daughter spoke of him, laughing and giggling to himself as he watched.

“Nooo, I won’t say no. I’d love to meet her.” He cooed, continuing to watch.

As the video ended, Harry handed you back the phone, “Please let me meet her. And what’s that Harry dress?”

And so you told him about your adventure with the tee, to which his heart seemed to grow a thousand times more at.

“I wasn’t aware kids loved me, I’m sorry you couldn’t find her size.” Harry frowned, feeling genuinely bad.

“Hey, no,” you assured him, putting your other hand on his – that was still resting on yours – “Don’t worry about it. You don’t exactly sing the alphabetics, Mr. sex-inspired-my-last-album-and-I-made-it-on-shrooms.”

Harry giggled, shrugging at you.

You both talked some more, only about Faith. Harry’s eyes were wide with admiration when you told him about how you raised her alone – also assured when he realized that the father wasn’t exactly in the picture even though his heart broke at that – and he showered you with compliments of how brave you were to raise a kid alone.

“Think I should head back now. I still need to pick Faye up from my best friend’s.” You said, leaning your head on the headrest as your body was turned towards Harry, his hand sandwiched between yours on your thigh.

“Can I help?” He asked, “Only if that’s okay. I don’t want to be crossing my limits.”

Your eyes searched his, growing emotional at the man in front of you. “Are you sure?”

Again with the double meanings.

That time, Harry noticed, his face softening as he looked back at you. Softly and ever-so-gently, he leaned to press a soft kiss on your cheek, “I’m sure.”

As he drove, you and Harry held hands on your thigh, the both of you singing along to Fleetwood Mac on your way.

As you gave Harry directions, he was absentmindedly rubbing your hand with his thumb. If you would have told him that he was doing that, he would have denied it; not because he wanted to deny it, but because it felt too natural that he didn’t realize he was doing it.

“Right here.” You pointed at a building, “She’s two buildings away. You can go, it’s a short walk.”

“I’ll wait for you here.” Harry said, parking before turning to look at you.

“Harry, seriously, you can leave if you want. I’m right there.” You pointed at your building.

“Nonsense, love. I’ll wait here.”

You sighed in contentment, giving his hand a squeeze before getting out of the car and into the building.

“Why did you not tell me that you were on a date with Harry fucking Styles?” Cece whisper shouted as soon as she opened the door, “Knew from Faith, you shit.”

“Because you’d overr-“

“He could be the one!”

“-react. You’d overreact and plan our wedding.” You teased your best friend, “Where’s Faye?”

“Won’t you come in for a drink?” She asked before turning, “Faith, it’s your mom!”

“Can’t. Uh,” you cleared your throat, “Someone’s waiting for me.”

“Some- No fucking way!” She exclaimed, muttering a “sorry” when you hushed her, “He-Harry is downstairs? Are you shitting me?” Cece excitedly asked.

You couldn’t stifle the smile on your face as you nodded.

Cece was about to talk some more before Faith appeared beside her, her backpack hung on one shoulder as she rubbed her eyes.

You knelt down, hugging her. “Hey, Nugget. You sleepy?”

Faith only nodded, wrapping her arms around you as you carried her, feeling her rest her head on your shoulder and you instantly knew that she slept.

“I’ll text you, alright?” You whispered to Cece.

“You better.”

Carrying Faith as well as having her backpack in one hand, once Harry saw you, he was out of the car and rushing towards you, taking the bag from your hand.

“Thank you.” You smiled thankfully, noticing how he walked beside you and guided you to the car, opening the door for you and sleeping Faith before closing it as gently as he could.

The lack of backseats made Harry place the purple backpack on his lap as he drove towards your building, a seconds drive.

He stopped the car and was out of his seat the moment he parked, slinging the bag on his shoulder before helping you out, taking your bag for you, to which you quietly thanked him for.

“Um, you can place the bags on my shoulders or something.”

“I can help you upstairs, come on. It’s no problem.”

You knew he was set on it and you let him, mostly because of how surprised you were that there were people who didn’t cringe and run the moment they knew the other person had a kid.

Harry did all the work; opened the building’s door for you, pressed for the elevator, pressed your floor number and had even taken out your keys once you told him to to unlock the door.

“Come in, come in.” You whispered.

Unsure of what to do, Harry walked inside and mirrored your actions by taking off his shoes before lingering.

“You can follow me.” You whispered again, turning around for a moment to look at him with a smile.

A quick take of the apartment was what Harry could do as he followed you, feeling an emotion of comfort and coziness engulf him as he did.

You were never less thankful for yourself for every time you changed Faith into pajamas before taking her to Cece’s, because it only made the process of tucking her in easier.

Harry had helped you by moving the covers so you could place Faith in bed before he stepped back, letting you tuck her in.

He smiled, watching how you seemed to shift around her or even when you just talked about her, like she was the most important person in your life and he knew that she was exactly that.

Faith was beautiful, and more often than not, you were glad that she got most of your looks and not her biological father’s because it only meant that he really was out of your life.

Harry noticed it, too. She had your nose, your lips, your facial outline, and your hair color. And from what he had seen in the video from when Faith was awake, she had your eye color.

You placed a kiss to her forehead before turning around, your eyes falling on Harry whose eyes were set on Faith with a ghost of a smile on his face.

His eyes came up to you and you noticed that he was still holding on to Faith’s backpack and was wearing your crossbag across his own chest.

You smiled as you grabbed the backpack from him and putting it aside on the floor before looking at him.

The only light in the room was from the hallway, making the room dimmed and making the both of you in a much more sentimental moment.

“They usually run away when they find about Faith.” You whispered, stepping closer to him, “Now is your cue.”

Harry’s eyes were on yours until they glanced at your lips, and butterflies erupted in your stomach at that.

“Thank God I’m not one of them, then.” He replied gently in a low whisper before he leaned closer, shamelessly looking at your lips.

It was you who took the final step, closing the minimal space between you by placing your lips on his.

His hands went to your waist as yours went to his neck, feeling him kiss you back softly but eagerly before pulling away from less than a second to tilt his head, getting a better angle before his lips were back on yours.

“Mommy?”

Pt. 2 

[siriusmydeer]

For the Thank You Next can you do Imagine with James Potter?

thank you, next.

james potter x slytherin!fem!reader

summary: you go through the stages of love till you find your person.

word count: 2.3k

warnings: mutual pinning, over use of sarcasm it’s so bad, SWEARING, kissing, mentions of kissing, mentions of an arm falling off, mentions of injury

—0:00

‘Thought I'd end up with Sean

But he wasn't a match

Wrote some songs about Ricky

Now I listen and laugh

Even almost got married

And for Pete, I'm so thankful

Wish I could say "thank you" to Malcolm

'Cause he was an angel’

one day, when you’re young, your mother tells you, ‘there’s lots of fish in the sea, but you have to wait for the right catch’ or maybe that was just your deranged mother. normally, you thought all of that was bullshit. a slytherin princess should never be mistreated, someone whomst you honour and adore with all in your beating heart; turns out slytherin boys didn’t get the fucking memo.

the only person who did understand was the one and only, regulus arcturus black. but you unfortunately lacked sexual attraction to him so therefore you couldn’t date him, so that was a feigning issue. evan rosier was fit, top of his classes and a quite nice mop of blonde on his head, he was a quidditch player and a pureblood slytherin; so etiquette is to be clearly expected. too other schoolmates, especially the fawning girls of almost every house, he was probably the full package, one of the alpha males that roamed the hallways at hogwarts; oh were those girls the biggest knob heads to exist.

turns out he was just the biggest fucking dick to ever walk the planes of the earth, he ran around with idiots like lucius malfoy— another mistake of the century, and little severus snape; thank merlin, and salazar slytherin themselves you never resorted to him.

‘One taught me love

One taught me patience

And one taught me pain

Now, I'm so amazing

Say I've loved and I've lost

But that's not what I see

So, look what I got

Look at what you taught me

And for that, I say’

normally your first couple of boyfriends should teach you something out of the relationship, maybe what you needed to strengthen for the next time you were in an intimate relationship, like trust, communication, maybe even sexual intimacy.

all these absolute dunces taught you was to pick your boyfriends better, and to stay away from every slytherin male that had ever entered hogwarts. evan— oh, he only taught you that everyone and everything was a priority over you, always the ‘talk to you later.’ and the casual, ‘blowjob?’ comments; absolutely fucking arse. lucius, couldn’t forget his moto in your mind even if you jammed it in your strongly-witted brain that money was power and money over any atom to every exist.

regulus understood, strict pureblood parents but he still understood how to treat a partner. i guess it was nice not picking up every habit of walburger and onion— sorry, walburga and orion, noble heirs of the house of black. yeah, did i mention they were second cousins?

‘Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)

Thank you, next (next)’

“you could always hang out with my brothers mates, i see them not casually oogling you.” oh regulus, sometimes you did lack the slytherin wit and ambition. he was sprawled on the malachite coloured couch, a pearly white quill fumbled between his slender digits as he started aimlessly into oblivion at the dying out fire in the midst of the frigid common room.

“yeah, let me go hang out with my best friends brothers friends, slytherin haters! such a good idea, reg. maybe they should’ve put you in ravenclaw from that amazing idea!” if you were sarcastic before, there aren’t a non-vulgar amount of words in the universe to describe the tremendous mockery in your tone; as you intensely stared into the crevices of the ceiling while laying on the opposite viridescent sofa.

“merlin, tone down the sarcasm a bit? i was just offering, it’s not like your a pureblood, or a prat.” regulus offered, looking at your form, your elbow now covering your eyes and making recurring heavy sighs every few minutes. “being a half-blood is enough for hatred, regulus, m’dear.” you sighed again, in defeat. hopeless romantic and hated by many, fantastic, am i right?

‘Spend more time with my friends

I ain't worried 'bout nothin'

Plus, I met someone else

We're havin' better discussions

I know they say I move on too fast

But this one gon' last

'Cause her name is Ari

And I'm so good with that (so good with that)’

don’t think, breath and just do what your heart tells you to. fuck that— panic, cry, scream, whatever, be scared. you were gaping at the red mass and overdue of shades, it wasn’t ugly but definitely not the prettiest colour to exist; mixed with mustard yellow. gryffindor students absolutely covered in both. well students, no, james potter, yes.

he happen to be your victim, well friend of sirius; regulus did say after all they oogled you, whatever that meant. you both played quidditch, pretty decent grades, both had good humour, your more so, i mean c’mon you couldn’t find that wit just anywhere, and well you could be best friends. well friends, acquaintances, maybe one, possibly. if only you had the confidence of a leo male, all you needed was to strut over to the damn quidditch field and say something, literally anything.

so that’s exactly what you did, your shoes crunching against the no-longer damp grass, dry after morning dew showers. your bag hanging off of your left arm, your head preoccupied with ways on how to greet someone because slytherin etiquette right now was not the way to go; it would only cause assumptions and stereotypes. i mean who the actual fuck says, ‘how do you do?’ anymore.

‘She taught me love (love)

She taught me patience (patience)

She handles pain (pain)

That amazing (yeah, she's amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I say’

enemies, nope. acquaintances, don’t think so. friends, getting there. close friends, i would say. if someone ever said they saw james fleamont potter hanging around a slytherin they would’ve assumed that someone was knocked upside the head with the biggest beaters bar you could find, but the green and red weren’t that bad of a mix after all.

henceforth, here you were giggling like school girls with james fucking potter right by the black lake. “james, respectfully, stop carrying that stupid snitch everywhere. doesn’t it weigh down your pockets?” you queried the boy who was fumbling with the golden snitch for the past three minutes, flipping his hair so he could knock the brunette tendrils from his eyes while he gaped at you.

you were glowing— the sun at its highest peek, he could’ve been on his knees thanking albus dumbledore in his office for free period; knowing james we would’ve offered to comb his beard and maybe even a shampoo and condition it while he was at it.

your eyes glittered as you chortled at him for dropping that stupid ball for the third time, your hair dancing in the wind like it was a routine, a perfect routine, your teeth glinting at the suns ethereal rays that hit you just right. imagine if james’ foolish cocky mask instead would’ve rejected your offer of friendship that one humid day on the quidditch pitch— he would’ve been the biggest git to ever stride the planet.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Thank you, next

Thank you, next’

friends, that’s what it was suppose to be. pals, mates, schoolmates, whatever the fuck you called it. it wasn’t suppose to be frenemies, to friends to lovers! you weren’t suppose to notice the navy blue flecks of colour in his cerulean eyes, the way his lips curled in a smile after he caught that silly snitch that blazed the thick sure after a hefty match, the way he brushed the tresses of hair behind your ears when the wind was assaulting your face and you were basically swallowing your hair.

now sitting with him in the library you were mentally stabbing your stygian heart, why men. why do they do things, why do men sometimes have the decency to show sympathy, and partiality with their friends. he hugged you, he kissed your forehead when you felt dejected, james potter went through the slytherin common room to bring you chocolates on your period. which fucking gryffindor would do that, huh? definitely not frank longbottom or fabian prewett.

his hand scathed yours as he pointed at how to make a draught of peace potion, his hand was warm and smooth but only from what you touched— you could see slight callouses forming on the pads of pads palm from broom handling, and the small cracks in his knuckles from the lacking use of lotion. you felt the rapid rate of your heart merely increasing at the minute from the slight touch, a rush of rose clouded your cheeks. this was so embarrassing.

‘One day I'll walk down the aisle

Holding hands with my mama

I'll be thanking my dad

'Cause she grew from the drama

Only wanna do it once, real bad

Gon' make that last

God forbid something happens

Least this song is a smash (song is a smash)’

you were mid flight, smashing a bludger in the direction of the vermillion colours. even when you were immensely sweaty, intensely panting, abundantly tired, and your arm looked like it wanted to fall off he wanted to kiss the energy back into you. james loved winning against slytherin, it might’ve been his favourite thing at hogwarts; but he would murder a pack of death eaters if it meant he got to see your smile when your emerald-clad seeker clutched that small golden ball.

both teams landed, a handshake due for the game to be over after almost two continuous hours of playing and that stubborn ball blazing the air. he meant to walk over there, a hug overdue in his prideful way of saying congratulations but he did not think that he would’ve strided over to your panting figure and clasped your soft cushion lips with his own parched ones from the continuous heaving in his breath.

your lips tasted of peach, hints of mango. your lips dried of chapstick but still smooth— feeling the grooves in your lips, they were puffy and swollen probably from the tremendous amount of times you had bitten your lips in anxiety. your lips disconnected for a moment, suddenly realizing that you had an audience of your fellow slytherins, your enemy gryffindors and not one but two shocked crowds of hufflepuffs and ravenclaws suddenly watching the private scene unfold.

james cleared his throat, looking at your grinning face that was encased between his palms, your face was significantly flushed, your chest moving every millisecond at the loss of breath in your lungs. “good, uh, good game james.”

‘I've got so much love (love)

Got so much patience (patience)

I've learned from the pain (pain)

I turned out amazing (turned out amazing)

I've loved and I've lost (yeah, yeah)

But that's not what I see (yeah, yeah)

'Cause look what I've found (yeah, yeah)

Ain't no need for searching

And for that, I'll say’

cocky, quidditch captain, school prankster, pureblood gryffindor, and head boy. that to the peering eyes of hogwarts was james potter, but he was so much more than that. he was like an onion, gross comparison but for the sake of it you’ll use it, he had layers but everyday it’s like you cried a little less and you peeled just a bit more.

he was benevolent, he guided first years to common rooms and sometimes he studied with fourth year hufflepuffs. he was sensible, sometimes, he helped out madame pomfrey in the healers wing when remus had been injured from a full moon along with any remaining students in the ward from previous incidents, not to mention, you did uncover remus’ ‘furry secret’ and swore to secrecy. and most of all, james was cherishing, he actually did give a fuck when you had a bad day, he stroked your back and hummed you stupid baby lullabies.

i mean could you imagine lucius malfoy and evan rosier humming a girl lullabies when they were upset? celebratory kisses after quidditch, bringing you snacks while you were overwhelmed in school work and actually made an effort in the relationship? they would’ve bought you a pair of red bottoms and called it a day.

‘Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next (thank you, next)

Thank you, next (said thank you, next)

Thank you, next (next)

I'm so grateful for my ex

Thank you, next

Thank you, next

Thank you, next

Yeah’

there was infact one thing that your past relationships taught you;

never date a man to ever be put in the slytherin house ever again.

taglist: @kittykylax @ronbrokemyheart @aspiringsloth20 @maddoxsmythologicalmind @amourtentiaa @msmb @five-cups-of-coffee @emmaev @serenitywilderness @spencerfuckingreidswhore @artemis1orion @famdomhideout @hufflepogue @dear-luna @luvvninaz @miraclesoflove @black-like-my-soul @sirius-animagus

[baubuttercup]

Mini Garcia pt1/ Spencer Reid

Summery: Y/N is the new Tech Analyst intern under her mentor Penelope Garcia and has just started her first day at the BAU. During a case Y/N get a few calls from a not so familiar boy genius who seeks her help...or does he seek more? 

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warning: Fluff/none 

A/N: This is the first of many stories i will be writing and i look forwarding to writing more. I haven’t fully edited it but hope you enjoy it :)

Please Interact for more Spencer Reid/ MGG fics!!

“you will be fine trust me, you are already a natural and thats coming from yours truly” you were so nervous because today was your first day working at the BAU as a Tech Analyst Intern. Penelope was the one who got you the job working along side her. She was your teacher, mentor, and even your close friend and you knew working with her would be nothing less than entertaining. “P what if they don’t like me or I don’t fit into their group, you told me that they were like family” you followed the women wearing a floral dress with glittery high heel through the halls of the FBI coming to a stop next to two glass doors. “Y/N before we go in you are going to take three deep breathes and snap the hell out of it, cause you my little prized protege, will fit in just fine, so stop over thinking and pull yourself together”. I inhale three breathes before she pulled the glass door opened guiding me into a large room which from memory i think she had called it the “Bullpen”.  As we walked in i noticed in the corner of my eyes a man and a women eyeing me up and down. The man was large and muscled, he was appealing to the eye, just not preferably my type “Babygirl who is this fine little thin-” Penelope put her hand out barricading me from the man “cool it hot cakes, she is pure” I chuckled under my breath at her immediate response “This Derek chocolate thunder Morgan is the new Intern, working beside me as i mentor her into become the next best Garcia, Y/n meet Derek Morgan” we both extend our hands to go in for a friendly handshake “Oh and this fine ass piece of women is Jennifer Jareau” I smile shaking the pretty blondes hand “JJ for short its lovely to meet you” she hesitated for a moment before continuing “You seem so young, if you don’t mind me asking how old you are” I nervously try not to stutter upon my words “Oh um-m yeah i’m 20, but I got into the early acceptance program for computer programming and coding at Georgetown and now i’m here” Derek and JJ both exchange stairs before Derek opens his mouth “you, princess should meet our resident genius, i’m sure you two would get along quite well” JJ chuckles before giving Derek a smirk “OH YES how could I have forgotten about boy genius, where is he by the way” A tall dark haired man and a slightly shorter Italian looking man appeared from behind us “Reid and Prentiss are at a conference they will be meeting us in San Francisco” He looked intently at the group surrounding me then turned to look at me “You must be Y/N L/N, i’m Aaron Hotchner but please call me Hotch, and this is David Rossi, we are happy to have you on board, Garcia has spoken very highly of you” both men shake my hand firmly “I’m glad to be on board sir and thank you for this amazing opportunity” Hotch goes to say something before he was cut off by a text message appearing on his phone. “Wheels us now, they need us down their asap, Garcia brief us on the plane” and with that they were all making their way to the elevator. “Come on little Einstein we have work to do”

--

Garcia had just finished briefing the team on the case they were assigned to. From what i could catch it was about a Zodiac killer who had been killing over a decade ago and has recently just started up again. I tried to listen in and take note on everything Garcia was doing because god knows this job is fast past and i don’t want to fall behind on my first day. I found myself continuously zoning out thinking back to what that Morgan guy said about a “resident genius”. Who was he and why was Morgan so sure we would get along. So many questions were crossing my mind, before i heard Garcia’s voice continuously saying “Earth to my little oracle, hello, Y/N come back down to earth little one” i snap back to reality seeing Garcia waving her hand in front of of me “oh sorry- P who was that resident genius Morgan spoke about earlier” she spun in her chair making eye contact with me smirking “Oh my god yes Reid, how could i forget again. So you didn’t meet Emily Prentiss she is a total kick ass babe who is super cool and Spencer Reid who is a total genius with an eidetic memory and a whopping I.Q of 187″ i began to open my mouth to say something when Garcia interrupted “you guys would totally be so cute together, i need to set you two up, it would be a match made in heaven” I blush, a little taken back by the abrupt comments made by Garcia who is now really cheery “P calm down i haven’t event met the guy and i think you are a little in over your head” she looks at me still smirking “you are already intrigued by him aren’t you” just as i was about to stop her, the computer phone began to ring and the caller I.D was most clearly someone i didn’t even know yet but for some reason already was under affect by “ANSWER IT” Garcia motioned to the headset on my head “no i don’t even know what to say” she pointed at me with her fluffy unicorn pen “answer the phone i trained you for this” I reluctantly answered and within seconds i was met with a masculine yet soft voice on the other line “Hey Garcia I need you to track the ISP of the user who entered the spam comment to an internet cafe” I immediately got butterflies in my stomach, no stop Y/N you have never met this person and Garcia is just getting in your head, you continue to remind yourself. “U-mm i’m sorry I-I’m not Garcia i’m Y/N L/N the new Tech Analyst intern” I began to fidget with my figures staring between the plasma computer screens and Garcia “Oh Hi, I’m Reid, I mean I’m Spencer, let me start over I’m Dr Spencer Reid but you can call me Spencer or Reid, nice to meet you” my nerves begin to calm at the sound of his voice and the fact that he sounded just as nervous as me. I look to Garcia as she was smiling and motioning her hands to continue the conversation “Oh um-m sorry, you needed me to track the ISP of the user who entered the spam comment to an internet cafe...right?”I patiently await his response, which seemed like forever “Yeah, if you can do that, that would be great, thanks” I look to Garcia once again as she gives me a reassuring smile of encouragement before i turn to the monitors and type away, I remember everything Garcia taught me about the bureau system and was surprising easier to manoeuvre once actually assigned to a task “Hey um Reid, you still there?” thinking maybe he hung up “still here buttercup...um i mean Y/N” Garcia nudged me overhearing what Reid had just said and was cheering in the air, I quickly regained focus “so yeah unfortunately the unsub used a prepaid credit card, so I don’t have an I.D, i’m sorry” i felt my nerves regain their position in my stomach as i thought i didn’t do a good job “Thats okay, thanks for your help L/N and am excited to meet you in person, hopefully soon” I blush quickly at his comment, this going unnoticed by Garcia who is in her own world of happiness at the moment. “Yeah same goes for you, take care and if you need anything else you know where to find us” I end the call not wanting to make anymore of a fool of myself than i already have “BUTTERCUP, HE CALLED YOU BUTTERCUP” I groan at Garcia’s response already embarrassed by the ordeal “Y/N i know Reid and i have know him for many years, never in my time of being in boy geniuses presence have i ever heard him call someone BUTTERCUP” a million things swoop through my mind in that moment, why did he call me that, was it a fluke, was he just trying to be friendly, what am i saying i have literally never met this guys before its for sure nothing. I turn my head to Garcia giving her a please stop looking at me face, before she puts her hands up in defence” Okay okay i’ll stop, but you guys would make cute babies” she whispered the last part just loud enough for me to catch it. 

--

As time goes on I observe everything Garcia continues to do in order to find the details of the unsub. This job although seeming like fun is very high pressure and i made sure i noted down everything that Garcia done so i didn’t seem like the biggest failure in front of the team, or one team member in particular. The phone rang once again causing Garcia to answer it “He who seeks the queen of all knowledge, speak and be recognised” I chuckle under my breath at the witty response before i felt a tap on my shoulder “Pretty boy wants to speak with you” I give her a confused look “Boy genius, girly” I straighten up and answer my headset “Hello L/N speaking” i try to analyse why on earth he would want to speak with me and before he got a chance to answer a million conclusions were rushing through my mind “Hey L/N, long time no speak” there was a pause in the background before i heard a male chuckle and whisper “thats one way to get the girl Reid” he cleared his throat before continuing on “So i just thought i’d give you more training so can you run something for me” I physically prepare myself for what he is about to ask, ensuring i don’t screw this up “I need you to compile a list of people with I.Qs of 160 and above in the region” I type away trying to speed up so i don’t slow the team down “I’m checking with the bay area mensa society which is kind of slumming cause folks can get in with a measly I.Q of 130″ Reid chuckled at my statement making me feel more comfortable about what i was doing “try and check old school records, we’re looking for someone who is in his 20′s or 30′s” as I am intensely try my best to recover these names it appears in front of me “BINGO, Caleb Rossmore and Harvey Morell, they both have I.Qs over 160 and get this they both use to write about the Zodiac in their junior high school newspaper” I smile at myself, kinda proud at what i just accomplished on my own “thats amazing, thanks Y/N and tell Garcia she has the best intern” I smile to myself satisfied that i done something right and that Reid thought so too. “Yes that’s my little Einstein, ah you are moulding into a beautiful little Garcia, how proud i am right now

--

The team had just got back from catching both Caleb Rossmore and Harvey Morell and Garcia had gone to greet Morgan at the elevators. I had stayed behind packing my belonging as i was ready to head home to my fluffy dog Milo and sleep for hours. A knock on the door startled me. I abruptly turn around and was met with a tall figure who had beautiful brown eyes and shaggy hair. “Hi, I’m so sorry to have startled you, I’m Spencer Reid the one that kept annoying you on the phone” I feel my cheeks heat up from the sight of how pretty this boy was “um yes, i mean no you weren't annoying at all if anything you gave me the training i need, so i should be thanking you, and I’m Y/N L/N” Reid stuck out his hand which took me by surprise because according to Garcia he was not a handshaker and refused to shake hands with anyone, stating that even kissing was more sanitary “Well, in that case i’m glad to be of assistance and its nice to officially meet you Y/N” we stared in each others eyes for a few moments before we were met by Penelope and Morgan “Hey guys you have met, yay, okay now can we go this princess is getting bags under her eyes and those aren’t the kind of bags i want” we all laugh at Garcia’s remark as we start to head towards the elevator. “So I heard you went to Georgetown” i look up at the brunette boy who was gazing down at me “yeah, I actually graduated this year, which i’m kind of sad” “oh why’s that” I look straight into his eyes “I like educating myself, and expanding my field of study is something that i genuinely enjoy, so i’m kind of sad its over, but i’m looking at going for my PHD in Computer engineering” Reid looked me deeper in my eyes without saying anything, just then i heard a murmur “they will make such cute babies and i’m going to be the best godmother” and with that the elevator doors open and we all began to file in. 

I may have just met Spencer Reid but i have a feeling we are definitely going to be getting along. 

[blu-joons]

DATING NCT A⇴Z HEADCANON ⇴ Lee Donghyuck

A ⇴ AFFECTION 

It’s well known that Donghyuck is a huge fan of skinship, but especially when it comes to you. You’ll often have to end up begging him to let you go or tapping out because he’s holding you tight, but he loves to hold you close.

B ⇴ BEFORE DATING 

The elder members of the unit had spotted his eyes glancing across at you throughout the night, and after biting their tongues for so long, they finally managed to push Donghyuck into going over and saying hello to you. He was terrified, but as soon as you said hello back, he felt entirely at ease.

C ⇴ CONFESSION 

Just like saying hello, the members pushed him into confessing too. Johnny especially had caught onto a rumour that another guy had shown interest in you from your workplace, causing them to push Donghyuck into letting you know how he felt before he lost you. It was a very last minute, and unromantic confession, but luckily, Donghyuck managed to get to you before the other guy which was all that mattered to him.

D ⇴ DATES 

The two of you loved to mess around with each other, you always loved trying new places for your dates. It was one of the biggest advantages of being in Seoul, that there was always something around for you to try. The more exhilarating, the better, as far as Donghyuck was concerned, he enjoyed showing off to you and having a laugh. Your dates were never too serious and planned out, you were far too young to worry about all the adult things that you should do on a date just yet.

E ⇴ EXPERIENCE 

Donghyuck had never even given love much thought before he met you, it always felt like such an adult thing for him when deep down he still felt like a massive child. Perhaps that was why he got on so well with you, because you still would always make him feel like a massive child, whilst also introducing him to a few more adult things in life, specifically giving him his first, and hopefully last, shot at love. He also learnt from his elders a lot when it came to love and took on board as much of their advice as possible.

F ⇴ FIGHTING 

The two of you didn’t tend to argue a lot, but you always remembered one fight you did have. Donghyuck paid no attention to you one date night and played on his phone throughout the entirety of your meal together, talking to anyone but you. You couldn’t help but blow, your reaction was much more than it needed to be, but Donghyuck had never annoyed you before, and quite frankly, you were just in the mood to shout. Once you were done, he’d sit you down and apologise and promise never to make you so angry again as it was definitely a sight that he didn’t like to see.

G ⇴ GETTING TO KNOW HIS FAMILY 

His family were very protective of him which often worried you, but luckily for you, seeing how happy he was with you quickly allowed you to become a huge part of their family. All the fears and worries of high expectations you had were very quickly forgotten about once you got to know them.

H ⇴ HOME 

Being one of the younger members, Donghyuck was very reluctant to leave the dorm. He loved having his hyungs around him for now, and often would remind you that the two of you had the rest of your lives to live together when the band began to calm down and members started to move on with other projects and jobs.

I ⇴ “I LOVE YOU” 

You were actually the first to say those three important words when a prank you tried to pull on Donghyuck had gone very wrong. When he ended up with his favourite shirt being ruined, you knew that you had a lot of making up to do, starting by admitting your true feelings for him to make sure that he wouldn’t stay angry at you anymore.

J ⇴ JEALOUSY 

Being jealous around his members was something that Donghyuck hated to do, but he was the first to admit that there were definitely times he’d feel jealous towards them if one of the many managed to make you laugh or do something for you that he couldn’t do. Whilst he was happy being one of the babies of the team, he liked to stamp his authority within the group as your boyfriend, so when the others would mock him or tease him, there were definitely times when he wouldn’t see the funny side and get very jealous.

K ⇴ KIDS 

Even the thought of kids terrified Donghyuck at such a stage in his life, if he wasn’t honest, he still wasn’t sure how he saw tomorrow going, let alone five, ten years down the road. If you mentioned children, you’d often struggle to get a lot out of Donghyuck, he much preferred to think of the now and living whilst he was still young rather than all the responsibilities that he’d have to take on as an adult.

L ⇴ LAUGHTER 

You were the duo that often gave the other members nightmares, together you were both hilarious, but the biggest fear for the other members. You both loved to prank them and wind them up to no end, you were forever going around the dorm with challenges that you knew would wind them all up. Even if nobody else would be laughing at your antics, the two of you would often be doubled up on the floor with stitches at how successful your practical jokes had been. As soon as any members saw the two of you together, they knew they were about to become the victims of your jokes together and try to getaway.

M ⇴ MISSING 

He was very much protected by the boys whenever he went on tour, they knew just how much he missed you and how lonely he often got. It felt as if the other half of him was gone when you weren’t around beside him, even though all the others were relieved that one half of the mischievous duo that you were together had disappeared. Even they had to admit they missed you causing trouble when you were with them, especially as they saw how badly Donghyuck struggled without you there too. They would rally around him as best as they could, but they knew very well that you left far too big a hole in his life for any of them to fill.

N ⇴ NICKNAMES 

You’d usually end up just shortening his name as a nickname for him, neither of you were ones for super fluffy nicknames, you much preferred to use your handshake that you had together, which everyone else hated.

O ⇴ OBSESSION 

Donghyuck was obsessed with your body as a whole, he just loved to cuddle any part of it. He could never pick one part of it above the rest, that was a decision he just couldn’t make.

P ⇴ PDA 

He loved to continue to prank you and mess around in public with you too. He’d often try and push the boundaries to see what you were comfortable with, which would usually end up with a photo of the two of you in the headlines the following day and in hot water with the company too.

Q ⇴ QUESTIONS 

Nothing made him happier then when he had your support in pranking a member, so he’d ask you quite a lot which one you wanted to help him get or what you thought the perfect prank was to get back at whoever he had decided to target that time around.

R ⇴ RANDOM FACTS 

A lot of his time is spent on his phone, and so because he spends so much time on it, Donghyuck makes sure that every background that he has is a photo of you. Being able to look at you every time he changes app or switches his phone on always ends up putting a smile on his face. Seeing you look back at him goes a long way in making him feel like you’re there with him, even though most of the time you aren’t.

S ⇴ SEX 

There would never be a second during intimacy between the two of you when Donghyuck wouldn’t be a complete romantic and dramatically affectionate towards you. He loved making you feel special and taking care of you as best as he could, if there was any distance between the two of you, he’d close it in a heartbeat and hold you a little bit tighter to make up for letting you go even just if it was for a moment.

T ⇴ TEXTS 

Sometimes there doesn’t even feel like there’s a second in the day when Donghyuck isn’t texting you. He can’t help but open up your chat every time he picks up your phone to see if you’ve replied or if he needs to text again.

U ⇴ UNIVERSE 

He loved having a partner in crime in you more than anything else in the world. Knowing that even though he was about to cause mischief, the fact that you’d be there to cheer him on was always the little nudge he needed to cause chaos.

V ⇴ VACATION 

Exploring whilst he was still so young was something that Donghyuck had always been big on, but especially so now that he had someone who would be right beside him on all his adventures. Even though those times would be limited, you’d always make the most of it together and see as much as the world as you could.

W ⇴ WHINING 

If he didn’t have your attention then Donghyuck would definitely let you know that he wanted it, refusing to stop until you gave it to him.

X ⇴ XXXXX 

Again, he’s a huge fan of skinship, and with that, definitely comes a lot of kisses. He can never help but kiss you as often as possible, there was always something about seeing with a blush on your cheeks and being able to send you weak at the knees that makes him the happiest man in the world. Knowing he’s the one that makes you feel so loved and adored with his kisses is an absolute honour in Donghyuck’s opinion.

Y ⇴ YOU 

You were his team mate, you always did everything as one.

Z ⇴ ZZZ 

He’d hold you tightly every single night, only usually letting you go when you’d complain that you were struggling to breathe because he was holding you so tightly against him as you tried to get to sleep.

---

Masterlist

[babydaddyleorio]

meet the parents: itadori yuuji x reader

pairings: yuuji itadori x fem! reader

word count: 1,060

summary: in which itadori meets your parents

“Does my breath smell bad?” Yuuji suddenly broke the silence and cuffed his hand to his mouth while huffing, his face contorting to shock soon after.  “Oh no, I can’t tell-- y/n smell my breath!” Yuuji leaned in towards your face with his mouth open but you put your hand up to stop him just before he could blow at you.

“Yuuji, move. I am not smelling your breath.” You said pointedly while laughing at him. Yuuji stepped back and rubbed his hand against the nape of his neck, his frantic expression from before now being replaced with a sheepish one. 

“Sorry y/n, I’m just really nervous about tonight.” He confessed while gripping the steering wheel in front of him rather tightly. The two of you were currently sitting inside of Yuuji’s car which was parked in the driveway of your parent’s home. Yuuji had been sweating bullets since the moment you walked out of your front door and his worrying seemed to only increase the whole drive here. 

You sucked your teeth and leaned your body over the armrest so that you could place your hands on top of Yuuji’s shaking ones.

“Everything is going to be fine, stop getting yourself worked up about this.” You said in a quick attempt to calm him down, but it seemed futile as Yuuji groaned loudly and threw his head back against the leather seat.

“I know I’m being dramatic right now, but I just really want to make a good first impression on your parents.” He glanced to where you sat, frowning at the thought of your parents not accepting him. Yuuji loved you with all of his heart and he wanted to do everything in his power to show your parent’s that he was worthy of being the best boyfriend to you. 

You leaned closer to Yuuji once again, only this time giving him a reassuring kiss on the cheek.

“You got this,” You said while grabbing Yuuji’s chin and turning his head to look at him in the eyes. “We got this, okay?”

Yuuji silently nodded at you, although the feeling of doubt still lingered in his mind. You then unbuckled your seatbelt and patiently waited with your purse in your lap as Yuuji got out and jogged around the car and to the passenger side. Your heart jumped once he swung your door open, grinning down at you with love in his eyes. He reached for your hand and you noticed how neatly his tie was done over the snug blue shirt you picked out for him, as well as the way his onyx dress pants hugged his legs just right. You smirked at how handsome your boyfriend was, but you quickly shook away those thoughts and grabbed his extended hand so the two of you could go in.

                               +

Dinner had been very… interesting to say the least. Yuuji had greeted your parents respectfully at the front door, but when your dad reached out for a handshake, Sukuna took that as an opportunity to come out of his slumber and decide it would be a great idea to lick your father’s hand. Your dad immediately jumped back and retracted his hand with a bewildered expression on his face. You and Yuuji had to quickly play It off by saying that Yuuji’s hand was just extremely sweaty, but you could sense that your dad was still a bit weirded out. Yuuji's irritation with Sukuna only doubled once he heard him laughing at the mess he created in the back of his mind. Strike one.

As you all were waiting for dinner to be done, Yuuji had to excuse himself to go to the bathroom. Your mom told him that It was upstairs and he made sure to thank her before leaving. Minutes had passed now and you were in the middle of laughing with your parents when suddenly you heard Yuuji scream, making you turn your head just in time to see him tumbling down the stairs at high speed. Your parents gasped in shock as Yuuji laid face first on the ground, and after some moments, he weakly lifted his head and brought his hand up to give you guys a thumbs up.

“I’m.. okay..” Strike two.

When you guys got to the dinner table, your mom tried to break the awkward silence by giving some conversation starters. 

“So Itadori.. what do you do?” Your mother asked, shifting her eyes towards the boy who was contently chewing mashed potatoes. Yuuji then gulped down the food that was in his mouth and smiled genuinely at your mom.

“Oh, I exercise curses.” 

Your parents opened their eyes in shock, silverware clanking against their plates, and you couldn’t help but slap your hand against your forehead. Good grief, that was strike three.

The night had ended soon after that, you sensing how badly this whole ordeal would hurt Yuuji. Your dad had taken Yuuji in the backyard to have a “talk” and you could only imagine how horribly that conversation was going. You looked at your mom with a tired expression and she looked back at you sympathetically. The backdoor door suddenly opened and you mentally braced yourself to see your boyfriend’s devastated face, but shock consumed you once you saw your dad and Yuuji walk into the room side by side and laughing together.

“Itadori, you are something else.” Your dad chuckled while slapping Yuuji on the back. You didn’t think your dad and Yuuji would be buddy buddy after all that happened tonight, but It seemed like they were actually hitting it off at this moment.

“Listen, you may be a bit clumsy and unpredictable, but I can tell that you really love my daughter.” Yuuji looked at your father with a smile as he continued his sentence. “You’re okay in my book.”

When you and Yuuji got back into his car, Yuuji did a silent scream and a little dance in his seat.

“I did It, y/n! They like me!” He shouted while turning to look at you with his eyes closed and the biggest smile on his face. You laughed at how excited your boyfriend was, and as he was still rejoicing, you grabbed the tie he had around his neck and pulled him closer to you.

His eyes immediately shot open from the sudden action and a blush creeped across his cheeks once he felt your lips touch his. You moved your head back and smiled at Yuuji’s flustered state.

“I knew you could do It.”