#but yelling at people who are burnt out like you yell at people who never took it seriously is Exhausting

[cranberryjuice-posts]

Okay this fic idea has been in my head for weeks...

Imagine reader being Percy's (full) sister and secretly dating Clarisse. And Percy's rambling about not liking "hating" Clarisse and reader is just doing whatever and doing that thing where someone's pretending to be interested just hums and agrees absentmindedly and then he just says "Fuck Clarisse" and reader is like "GIRL I'M TRYING, BUT SHE'S BUSY" (this is not an actual smut request for her tho), but reader accidentally said it out loud (ik it's cliche to 'accidentally say stuff out loud but I like it in this context). And Percy is like "Excuse me what da fok" and then he storms off to yell at Clarisse and reader hears him yell "REALLY?! MY SISTER?!" and everyone who's watching is just scared for Percy and the consequenses of yelling at Clarisse.

I imagine the "Look here comes the consequence of my actions chasing me right now" audio during this scene

- I’ve been trying -

Pairings - Clarisse La Rue x Fem! Reader

Synopsis - your secret relationship with clarisse quickly becomes not so secret

An - I BURNT MY FUCKING FINGER

Palestine aid links

It was a few hours before capture the flag. Most kids spent their time preparing for the game as it was the last one for summer; you however were pressed up against a tree with your favorite girl trailing sweet kisses down your neck.

“Fuck” you gasped as clarisse found your sweet spot. Bringing your hands to her hair you slightly tugged it, almost like an attempt to bring her closer of you could.

Clarisse flattened her tongue against the red mark she had began to leave. Her grip tightened on your hips and her leg pushing slightly between your thighs. The moment would of gone further only if clarisses brother hadn’t started yelling for hee.

Hitting her arm clarisse eventually came to, pulling away only slightly. “What-“ she panted heavily.

“Mm your brother he’s calling for you” you complained with a deep breath. Annoyed clarisse rolled her eyes. Taking a look around she returned her gaze back down at you, taking a notice of your pupil blown eyes. A giddy grin crossed her lips, finding her cocky attitude amusing you pushed off the tree to kiss her sweetly.

Shaking her head some clarisse squeezed your hip one last time. “You have no idea what you do to me… we’ll have to finish this later I’ll be busy for the rest of today and probably tomorrow” she sighed.

“Really” you complained making clarisse chuckle. “Yeah really, don’t get to bitchy it’s just two days”

Hitting her arm again you chuckled again. “Shut up I don’t get bitchy”

“Uh huh whatever you say babe” she teased drunkly walking backwards. Grabbing her spear she blew you a kiss before jogging towards the sound of her sibling calling.

——

“Then she has the AUDACITY! The fucking—“

“Language” you sighed giving Percy an authoritarian look. Shrugging you off he continued his ramble on about how he hated clarisse.

Shaking your head some you smiled finding it amusing your little brother hates your girlfriend. Though no body knew she was your girlfriend. You both agreeing on keeping it a secrete as it kept people off clarisses back and Percy off yours.

Your relationship with Percy had always been a little strained. Finding out you were a demigod let alone a daughter of Poseidon you had left home at an early age; causing you to never really know your brother. Growing up at camp it seemed like Percy was more like your friend than sibling. You still came home however, every holiday you were back in the same shitty apart with the same shitty step father.

When Percy finally came to camp it was easier to build a relationship with him. And for once… it felt like you really did have a brother.

“…also her blaming me for her spear breaking like it isn’t HER FAULT for attacking me! And I swear to the gods if I hear one more person say she isn’t that bad I’ll scream” Percy groaned holding his head in his hands while he paced in mad circles. Finally tuning back into the conversation the first thing you had heard — “UGH fuck clarisse!” He huffed.

“Girl I’m trying but she won’t be free until Sunday” you groaned holding your head back. It took only a moment for you to realize what you had said.

Looking at you then a door he quickly ran out, following his lead you chased after him. “Percy wait!” You yelled half laughing.

Instantly finding clarisse Percy stood before the cocky girl who was sitting with her siblings on the porch of their cabin; waiting for the final hour before the games.

Clarisse turned her attention from her brothers to Percy before scoffing. “What do You want beanstalk” her instult causing a small fit of laughter around her.

“MY SISTER OUT OF EVERYONE YOUR SLEEPING WITH MY SISTER!!” He shouted causing his face to go red.

The people around went quiet. For what seemed like minutes lasted only a few seconds before Percy began yelling again.

Clarisse who was stunned just sat there and let the boy yell at her. Standing right beside him was an embarrassed version of yourself.

At a certain point she had gotten tired of the small boy shouting at Her. His breaking voice annoying her. Standing up clarisse walked over to you, placing her hands on your waist and kissing you sweetly.

A slightly laugh leaving her lips as she knew your brother was watching in astonishment. Breaking the kiss she smiled at you before turning her shit eating grin to Percy. “Mind your business. What your sister does with me I’m sure you don’t wanna know” she chuckled, hitting your ass before walking away with her siblings following quickly.

Percy looked at you once again shocked. “Isn’t she dreamy” she smiled giddily. Your brother sighed, grabbing your shirt and dragging you away.

[literaila]

it's not my fault

gojo satoru x fem!reader

summary: tsumiki and megumi get into an argument

warnings: sibling stuff, fluff, two oblivious (stupid) parents

last part | next part

*

year five.

“couldn’t you say something nice?” tsumiki is asking megumi when you walk in. “she just wanted to—“ 

you set your bag on the table, just barely able to make out their words. 

they were... quiet in the car, you realize suddenly. but you hadn't thought that anything was wrong. megumi's typically burnt out after school, and tsumiki waits until you all get home to start telling you about her day. 

but it only took a minute of you running back out to the car to grab something for it all to fall apart. 

megumi groans. “i don’t even know her.” 

you round the corner, just stopping there so you can observe. neither of them seem to notice you, or your wide eyes at both of their stances. the matching scowls on their faces. 

they look so similar that it shocks you just briefly. 

tsumiki has her arms crossed, shaking her head. “you still don’t need to be mean about it.” 

“i wasn’t mean.” 

“yes, you were. you told her to leave you alone.” 

“that seems like a pretty straightforward request.” 

“everyone at school thinks you’re mean,” tsumiki is pouting, looking dishearted at his reaction. typically, megumi will agree with her just for the sake of it. “and i always have to defend you, even if it’s true.” 

megumi sighs, shrugging. he's got his satoru-type scowl on, and even though he looks disinterested--as usual--you can see it when his frown deepens, and he shifts away from tsumiki. “well, stop then. i don’t need you to come to my rescue. i don’t care what people say.” 

“well, i do! you’re my brother.” 

“that doesn’t mean you have to treat me like your responsibility. i can handle myself.” 

“you’re always alone at school,” tsumiki disputes, almost whining at him. “if you were nicer—“ 

“i’ve never complained—“ 

“okay,” you turn the corner, brows already raised. “there’s a lot of raised voices going on. you two are going to wake up the neighbor's cat.” 

tsumiki is pouting at megumi and he just rolls his eyes. both children stand facing each other, standoffish in the living room, arms crossed. 

usually, they fight about what movie to watch, or who got to sit in the front seat last. 

but those fights don’t typically involve yelling. 

sure, they’re both sensitive about their childhood. about living here and being with you and satoru. they'll bicker about being little, megumi hating it when tsumiki mentions either of their biological parents, and tsumiki hating it when he refuses to listen.

but even then, tsumiki goes to hide, and megumi just shuts down. 

this seems… different. 

a part of you rationalizes that they're both exhausted from school and getting to that age where their priorities differ. 

you don't have any siblings, but you quarreled enough with nanami and haibara back at school to know how these types of arguments work. 

and unless one of them admits that they're wrong, it's never going to end. 

with that thought in mind, you put on a learned smile, standing between the two of them so you can look back and forth between the two children, observing both of their very closed-off body language. 

it's a little cute, honestly. they both look very different, but their matching stances and glares are worth much more than biology. you almost want to stop them to take a picture. 

satoru would do it if he was here. 

“tough crowd,” you say, feeling the tension between the two. “what’s going on?” 

“nothing,” they both say, at the same time, but megumi with an attitude and tsumiki with a sniffle. 

really, you should find a book about expressing emotions. you and satoru are teaching them far too much about denial and avoidance. 

you make a mental note to look it up later. 

you blow out a breath. “yeah, well, i heard the yelling, but i’m missing some context."

you look between the two of them, but they’re not looking back. both sets of eyes are focused on each other, identical glares bouncing off of each other. they could be communicating in some secret language and you would have no idea. 

in fact, you can basically see the thoughts they're forcing towards each other on their faces. 

“hey,” you poke them both on the forehead at the same time, trying to get their attention on you. “talk to me. what happened?” 

they both remain still as statues for a moment, not bothering to consider the question. 

but after a moment, tsumiki blinks, and her frown increases, which makes megumi roll his eyes--like he already knows what she's going to say, and doesn't care. 

“megumi was mean to a girl at school,” tsumiki says, finally looking at you with big doe eyes. her face is pained, confused, and worried. 

and honestly, she could ask you for anything with that look and you'd give it to her. 

but megumi sighs. “i wasn’t mean.” 

“you told her not to talk to you!” 

he looks to you, less pleading but confident. “if i want space, shouldn’t i tell someone that? isn't that what you say?” 

you open your mouth. “well, it depends, megs, you can’t—“ 

“you’re always mean,” tsumiki’s eyes are filling with tears. she looks at you too. and usually, she would apologize for interrupting, but not right now. “nobody at school wants to be around him. he scares everyone, and they don’t believe me when i say that he’s nice.” 

“tsumiki," you begin, face softening, "you shouldn’t—“ 

“that doesn’t make me mean. why would i want to hang out with people who don’t like me?” 

you turn, “megumi—“ 

“they would like you if you weren’t always saying mean things!” tsumiki tells him, her sweet voice rough with frustration. the tears begin to slip from her eyes. 

and you can feel it when megumi moves another inch away, wanting to flinch back from her sadness the same way you do. 

“i don’t want them to like me,” megumi corrects, shaking it off. “i don’t care what they think.” 

tsumiki frowns even deeper, eyes growing wide. “what about what i think?” she asks him.

“are you going to stop hanging out with me?” 

“maybe.” 

“how? we literally live in the same house. your room is down the hall from mine.”

“guys—“ 

“i’ll ask dad to move rooms. he won’t mind.” 

“oh, sure. because you’ll be able to avoid me at the dinner table—“ 

“why are you always—“ 

“guys.” 

they both look to you, glares immensely misplaced. their mouths are still open, ready to interrupt each other at a moment's notice. 

you look between them, finding matching pictures on either side. clearly, they're both upset about something different. and still, you don't really understand, but it doesn't seem like they're going to explain anything further. 

why would they when they can just keep arguing?

you purse your lips, closing your eyes for a moment, trying not to laugh. 

really, if they wanted you to take them seriously they shouldn’t have grown up to be so cute. they shouldn't look like that. 

harsh, angry breaths fill the room as the two of them wait for your instruction. you should probably be able to fix this problem immediately--you could by sending them both to their rooms and forcing them apart--but you'd rather talk this through. 

plus you don't want either of them to think too hard about any of it. you hate it when you fight with satoru and take a break, just to linger in that anger like a quicksand you can’t pull out of. 

“okay,” you say, once there’s a moment of silence. “i know you’re both upset.” 

“i’m not—“ you look at megumi and he stops, little frown on his little face. his cheeks are red in indignation, and he's got clenched fists. you can tell that he wants to say something, maybe to you, maybe to tsumiki, but he won't.

you ruffle his hair. “it’s fine to be upset with each other,” you tell him, looking to tsumiki, her face entirely sad. “but going back and forth isn’t going to solve the problem, okay? and neither is saying anything just to hurt each other's feelings.” 

“but he just—“ you shake your head, wishing with everything in you that you could go get one of satoru’s blindfolds right now. 

it physically hurts to look at them, they're so precious. 

you are a terrible mother for finding this moment slightly amusing. to be fair, you spend far too much time with satoru, and deflection is a family trait. 

you finger tsumiki’s hair, pushing it from her eyes. “should we take a break?” you ask them both. “or do you want to talk about it now?”

“break,” megumi says, immediately.

“talk about it now,” tsumiki answers, at the same time. 

for two people who are so alike, they sure think differently. you want to smile at the very predictable answers but refrain.

“okay…” you pause, thinking. “tsumiki, why don’t you tell us why you’re upset? megumi will do the same, and then we can take a break, or keep going.” 

they both glare at each other. 

“and nothing mean," you add because it feels necessary. 

tsumiki sniffs. “everyone at school says that you’re cruel,” she tells him, a devastating pout on her face. “and i don’t like that. you’re my brother, and i want people to like you like i do.” 

you both look at megumi, waiting. 

he's silent for a moment, processing his sister's words, but then he’s got a scowl on his face. “i don’t care what they think, they’re all stupid anyway—“ 

“megumi.” 

he looks at you, pleading blue eyes. you can see that tsumiki got under his skin, but you shake your head. 

“see?” tsumiki complains, voice high-pitched. “he’s always—“ 

you wipe away a tear, nodding. “i know, sweetie, but it’s his turn. you can go next.”

you turn to megumi, wanting to laugh at his annoyed face. “don’t call your classmates names," you say, giving him a look. "it's your turn. tell tsumiki why you’re upset, megumi.” 

he sighs again, looking towards the floor. he kicks at the hardwood, shaking his head. “i don’t like it when you baby me. i don’t need you to defend me, or try and take care of me at school. i’m fine.” 

tsumiki swallows, not saying anything. 

you look between the two of them, trying to read the complex emotions of your almost-teenagers. unfortunately, they're closed off from you, and you can only guess. 

both of your hands rest on one of their shoulders, squeezing. “do you both want to answer? or should we sit down for a bit? i can make a snack or something. it might be good to cool off." 

you say it mostly for yourself, because, honestly, any second you're going to break. 

the two children look at each other, communicating telepathically, and then they nod.

“you should treat everyone respectfully,” tsumiki says, as an answer. “even if you don’t care what they think, you should still be nice.” 

megumi frowns. “if i don’t want to talk to someone, i shouldn’t have to.” 

“but you just told her to go away. she probably feels bad now, and—“ 

“i don’t even know her," megumi interrupts, brows furrowing. 

okay, so maybe you should've separated them a couple of minutes ago. 

“chiyo's my friend!” 

megumi rolls his eyes. “just because she’s your friend doesn’t mean she has to be mine.” 

“but you were mean.” 

you look between the two of them, megumi annoyed and tsumiki frustrated. 

“okay, kids.” you breathe out, wishing you had a brother to fight with, just so you knew what it felt like. just so you could be a part of this argument. “i know you’re both mad, and you disagree. that’s fine. let’s take some space, breathe, maybe i can—“

“just because you think i was being mean doesn’t mean that i was," megumi blurts out, like he can't hold it in.  

you pause, mouth opening. you're about to say something, but you don't get the chance.

“if everyone doesn’t like you,” tsumiki argues, “then it’s because you’re mean.” 

“maybe they just suck.” 

“they don’t suck. this is—“

and then it all breaks down.

“well well,” satoru peeks his head around the corner, white hair a shock to all three of you. “look who’s falling apart without me.”

you sigh immediately, a hand against your temple. of course he would come in at the worst moment possible. “satoru, please go back out the door. i'm sure you forgot something at the store."

the two kids look at satoru, neither one of them happy to see him. there's a similar fire in their eyes, and you know that if he hadn't shown up they would've continued arguing until you pulled them apart. 

he walks over to you, slinging an arm across your shoulder. his grin is far too self-satisfactory. "what'd you do?" he asks, tapping you. 

"i didn't do anything," you tell him, "leave them alone. they're working it out." 

"by yelling at each other?" 

you push his arm off of you, glaring. "you just walked in at a bad moment--" 

you say something else, telling him to get out again, and satoru laughs back at you, asking if you missed him, and neither of you seems to realize that the two kids are just staring at you.

megumi and tsumiki share a look, like this is a typical occurrence (it is), then shake their heads at the same time, like an echo of each other. 

their faces have cooled, scowls fading as you and satoru bicker. 

tsumiki sighs and megumi scratches the back of his neck, and for a moment, they both avoid each other's eyes. 

but eventually, you and satoru look back at them. 

"i don't want to talk anymore," megumi tells all of you, beginning to walk away. satoru tries to grab the back of his shirt to keep him in place, but megumi just shrugs him off. 

and then he walks down the hallway to his room and closes the door gently, clearly no longer bothered by anything tsumiki said. or maybe too bothered. 

but, you think, at least he didn't slam the door. 

you can recall yourself telling satoru to give him space, to let megumi deal with his emotions as he pleases before you force him back into the spotlight, to apologize or hug tsumiki, or... 

you blink and look back at her. she's still got a small pout on her face, but her eyes have relaxed, as red-rimmed as they are. you know, and tsumiki knows, that she's really just worried about him. trying to protect him in her own, sisterly way. 

and, really, there's not much you can teach her about that. 

so you just smile gently at tsumiki, wiping away some moisture from her face. "just give him a bit, hmm? let him think." 

she sighs but relaxes into your hand for a moment, her shoulders slouching as she gives into defeat. and then tsumiki shrugs at you, agreeing despite herself, and walks over to satoru to give him half of a hug. 

it's not a moment later that she follows megumi and walks down the hall, escaping to her room. you both listen as her door closes.

"wow," satoru whispers, shaking his head. "you did a number on them." 

"they had a fight about school," you say, nudging him. "i had no part in any of it. i just walked in." 

he wraps two arms around the back of your neck, smiling eagerly at you. "so what you're saying is, it isn't your fault?" 

he's mocking himself, and the reoccurring events that happen when you leave him in charge. which you've sworn to never do again, by the way. 

you scoff. "when i get home you've started all the problems," you tell him, shaking your head. "they're fighting because you instigated something." 

"we're communicating." 

"whatever."

satoru quirks a brow at you, eyes just barely visible behind his glasses. "the parenting books aren't doing much for you, are they?" he asks, rhetorically. 

"you realize i caught you with those in your room multiple times right? i know you read them." 

"you'll never prove it," he says, smiling maliciously. 

"and neither will your parenting skills." 

satoru snorts, nudging his nose against yours in an odious way. "clearly, you guys can't last a day without me." 

"it wasn't a day," you argue, shivering at his touch. "more like an hour. you just went to the store..." you pause, tilting your head at him. "and where are the groceries, by the way?" 

satoru looks away, hands tapping on the back of your neck, humming innocently. "oh, i might've... slightly misplaced those." 

"satoru." 

"i got distracted--but it's not my fault. there's a new kakigori shop down the block." 

you look at him blandly. 

satoru, because he cannot be trusted, smiles sweetly at you as he places a peck on your lips, as a sort of apology. 

obviously, you don't return it. not even in the slightest.

satoru hums as he pulls back, already knowing that he's won. "so, i'll just get dinner..." he says, grinning at you. 

you roll your eyes but wrap your hands around his neck, letting a little smile fall across your face. 

*

you and satoru are sitting on the couch when you see megumi creeping down the hall, on his tiptoes, purposefully not looking at the two of you. 

it's been an hour or two, the silence echoing across the house almost a bad omen. 

but you decided not to bother either of them. considering the fact that you still don't know why they were really fighting, or why they didn't just talk about it like they usually would, it seemed like the best option. 

and also, satoru shouldn't be involved in any conflict resolution. he'd probably suggest wrestling it out in the backyard. 

still, as you watch him pass by, you lean away from satoru, your legs completely tangled in his. you stretch your neck to watch him, relying on satoru's hand around your waist to keep you steady, but he's too far down the hall for you to see where he's going. 

but a moment later, you hear him knock on a door, and then a small, quiet voice telling him to come in. 

you relax back against satoru, already grinning proudly. "see? i fixed it." 

satoru laughs, his breath soft against your temple. "you didn't do anything. megumi just felt guilty." 

"well, i taught him that." 

satoru noses the side of your head. "mmm, i'm pretty sure i did." 

"of course you didn't." 

he shakes you a little, as a punishment for your words, but sighs. "what were they fighting about anyway?" 

"megumi was mean to one of tsumiki's friends, i think. i missed... pretty much all of it." 

"who?" 

you frown. "chiyo?" 

satoru snorts a little, and you shift to look at him, raising your brow. "megumi mentioned her."

you turn even more, eyes wide. you poke his cheek with a finger, and then wave for him to continue.  

satoru groans, fingers trailing through your hair. "he said that he overheard some girls talking about 'miki." 

"behind her back?" 

satoru smiles, a bit sadly, nodding. 

"oh." 

"yeah, oh." 

you frown. “what did they say?”

satoru licks his lips, watching your eyes as you concentrate on him. “dunno. megumi wouldn’t tell me.”

you roll your eyes. “of course not,” you say, sighing. “and he didn’t tell her?”

satoru winces. "okay, so… maybe i told him not to,” he whispers, like a confession, voice going a bit high at the end. and then he laughs at your annoyed expression. "what? i didn't want her to get sad." 

you shake your head at him, tsking. 

you could scold him for protecting tsumiki, but you know that you probably would've done the same. 

so you just turn back towards the hallway, resting your head against his shoulder. after a moment, satoru nuzzles himself into your neck, humming against your skin. 

it's a very unpleasant feeling. 

"do you think i should go get them for dinner?" you ask him, quietly. 

"nah," he kisses the side of your neck, looking down the hall with you. "give them a little while." 

and it's about twenty minutes later that the two siblings walk back into the living room, megumi's lip quirked at tsumiki, and tsumiki beaming back.

after all, you and satoru have taught them well. 

*

next part | series masterlist

[metalhoops]

Steve was used to climbing out windows. Before his junior year, he’d made a habit of entering through and escaping from girls' houses unnoticed. He was stealthy. He’d learned how to scale trees and tread lightly across roof shingles with the deftness of a nocturnal animal. Yet, for the first time, he found himself escaping his own home. There was a first time for everything, right? 

Steve’s parents were home. The second Steve saw the familiar BMW pull into the Harrington’s driveway, he knew he wanted to be anywhere but home. His parents were only palatable when he had good news, but all he had to tell them was that after their last visit, The Mall had burnt down and he’d gotten a new job at a video store. He really was doing the family proud. He didn’t want to deal with it, not today. 

That’s how he found himself crawling out his bedroom window, shimmying across the guttering and trying not to sprain his ankles as he dropped onto the lawn. He headed out back, past his pool and into the woods. Usually, it was the last place you’d find Steve. He kept expecting to run into a Demogorgon or something equally as nasty. 

He walked for a while without direction, trudging through the underbrush until the rustling of leaves behind him set his teeth on edge. His body moved before his mind had time to keep up. He spun on his heels, hand scrabbling to the forest floor in search of a weapon. It supplied him with a fallen tree branch, almost too large to heft comfortably, but he did it, running on adrenaline. He came face to face with a familiar, wide-eyed boy. 

“Holy shit, Harrington. Take it down like ten notches,” the boy grumbled, showing his upturned hands as though trying to calm a startled animal. 

Hawkins was a small town, the kind of place where everybody knew everybody. Steve knew the boy with deep brown eyes and dark hair, halloed by fallen leaves, was none other than Eddie Munson, or as he was colloquially known, ‘The Freak’. They’d gone to high school together. He thought the guy was due to repeat his senior year, again. He didn’t know what he was doing alone in the woods. 

“What are you doing?” Steve asked.

You couldn’t blame him for being on high alert. Even if Eddie was someone he’d grown up with, that didn’t make him safe. Steve was still riled up after running down Billy Hargrove with his car. He was paranoid. He’d had a rough couple of years. 

“Collecting sticks,” Eddie breathed, indicating the large bundle in his hand. 

“Collecting sticks?” Steve echoed. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe him. He couldn’t fathom why the guy was doing it.

“Yeah, I’m making a miniature log cabin for my D&D campaign, and you know, miniature logs are just... sticks—you don’t care, anyway. Sorry for startling you, my liege.” Steve tilted his head, thinking the acronym was familiar. 

“Is that the dragon game, with the Demogorgon and junk?” Eddie looked at Steve like he’d sprouted a third head.

“How the hell do you, Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington, know what D&D is?” 

Steve wished people would stop calling him that. Every time he heard the stupid nickname it felt like someone was rubbing chunks of asphalt into his gravel rash. He wondered if Eddie felt the same about his title. 

The old Steve would’ve used it just to spite the guy, to see what buttons he could push, not because he wanted to but because it was expected of him. It wasn’t an excuse. He knew that. Instead, Steve shrugged his shoulders and told the truth, something the old Steve never would’ve done.

“I babysit some nerds who play it,” he confessed. 

Eddie looked at Steve in wonder. He was puzzled, amazed and, for once, a little intrigued. He’d never looked at Steve like that back in high school. The two rarely crossed paths and when they did, they never spoke. Sure, Eddie ranted about ‘jocks’ as a whole, but Steve had always just been one piece of a puzzle. It would seem redundant to yell at a patch of blue and grey for being a picture of the sky. 

“Why did you need to take up a babysitting gig?” 

To answer that, Steve had to embellish a little. Maybe he no longer liked lying about who he was, but he couldn’t exactly dump the cosmic mind fuck that was The Upside Down on some unsuspecting guy. 

“I needed money.” 

“You needed money? What, did you get cut off?” Steve shrugged in response. 

“Christ, what did you do? Piss in a family urn? Trash the house? Get a girl pregnant?” Eddie questioned.

“I think generally existing was enough to do it,” Steve mumbled, kicking at the dirt beneath his shoes. 

Eddie let out a low whistle. 

“Hey Harrington, think fast,” Eddie called, throwing the bundle of twigs in his direction. Steve dropped the branch and grabbed the bundle with wide eyes. 

“What was that for?” Steve choked. 

“What are you doing in this neck of the woods, anyway?” Eddie asked instead of responding. Steve shrugged, still cradling the bundle to his chest. 

“Avoiding my parents.” 

“You got any plans for the rest of the day?” Eddie spoke. Steve responded with a shake of his head. 

“Well, you know, this really is a two-person job, so if you wanted to come back to my place, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world.” 

For some reason, Steve agreed. 

Eddie had a habit of collecting strays. 

There was the cat he’d kept under the bed when he was six and the gathering of stray dogs that hung around the back of the trailer park that he’d been feeding for as long as he could remember. The same theory applied to people. He made friends with the loners, the weird kids, the ones with wide eyes and nowhere to go. He was a bleeding heart, so sue him. However, he’d never expected Steve Harrington to trigger his urge to protect and befriend. That really hit Eddie out of left field. 

Never in Eddie’s wildest dreams did he imagine he and Steve would be sitting across from each other at his small dining table, Steve’s knee pressed on the inside of Eddie’s thigh. The jock’s still hands held small bits of twigs in place as Eddie worked around him with his hot glue gun. The guy had seemed so lost, back in the woods, so unlike how Eddie remembered him. He knew about D&D for Christ’s sake. Eddie wondered if he’d woken up in an alternate universe because it seemed like Steve Harrington was actually a good dude. 

He asked Eddie about his goddamn log cabin, tavern. Then he’d pushed deeper. ‘Why do you need a bar in a game about dragons’? To which Eddie explained, of course, you do more than just fight dragons, which appeared to be news to Steve. Besides his friends, no one showed interest in Eddie’s ‘stupid little fantasy game’. With Steve, questions came thick and fast. Eddie loved every second of it. When he’d asked why Steve cared so much, the guy had shrugged his shoulders and muttered,

“I might be able to impress the kids.” 

Eddie decided to ask about ‘the kids’. He and Steve didn’t have much in common. Sure, the two could commiserate about high school together, but neither man was in the mood to do that. And god, Steve could talk about ‘the kids’. 

“I run a D&D club called Hellfire. If they’re starting high school this year, send ‘em my way. I’ll tuck your little ducklings under my wing. Keep the big scary jocks away from ‘em,” Eddie noted, feeling comfortable enough with Steve to take a jab at him. Steve surprised him again by snorting out a laugh.

“Make sure you do. That Jason kid’s a senior, right? Total psychopath. The kid would peg basketballs at pigeons.” 

By the time the sun set, the boys were in stitches and had a fairly decent log cabin to show for a day’s work. Eddie was surprised that the idea of Steve leaving set a pit in his stomach.

“Hey, Steve? We should do this again,” Eddie proposed, and Steve was too quick to agree. 

“I have work tomorrow morning, but how about the afternoon?” 

Eddie hadn’t expected the guy to be as keen as he felt. 

“It’s a date,” Eddie agreed, before promptly wanting to shove his head through a miniature log cabin. A date? Really, Munson? 

A flicker of amusement crossed Steve’s face as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his too-tight jeans. Mind out of the gutter, Munson. You were doing so well. 

“You’re weird, you know that?” Steve remarked, running his hand through his trademark hair, and yeah, Eddie should’ve expected that. 

Now Steve was going to call him a Freak, the ‘King Steve’, he’d heard about would make an appearance and Eddie would be glad he dodged a bullet by cutting his crush off at the knees before it had the chance to grow legs. 

“Weird is good,” Steve corrected, seeming aware of Eddie’s inner turmoil. 

“One thing I’ve learnt about myself since high school is that I like weird.”

Oh, no. Eddie was so gone for Steve ‘The Hair’ Harrington. 

Read Part 2

[keerysfreckles]

falling in — steve harrington

pairing: steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: when a burnt down mall sends y/n to steve

warnings: use of y/n and she/her pronouns, steve got his ass beat (who's surprised), s3 spoilers duh, pure fluff/comfort, blood and injuries mentioned, pretty detailed makeout session

a/n: for my wife @keerysbrowneyes ily

masterlist !

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱

y/n sat nervously at the edge of her couch in her small living room. she watched her small flickering tv at the other end of the room with nothing but worry.

helicopters roaring, a blazing fire and multiple reporters surround the loved starcourt mall. y/n's heart almost burst out of her chest when one reporter stated most people made it out safely.

steve harrington was the first person to flood her mind. the girl hasn't heard of him for the past three days, which only made her nerves skyrocket.

"sources say scoops ahoy workers were at the scene, with multiple young kids and parents. . ."

y/n was out the door, struggling to put on her other shoe while running to her car.

—

y/n didn't even let the car come to a complete stop before she was running past concerned townspeople, reporters and cops. she easily slid under the caution tape and fit in between two firetrucks, not bothering to listen to the cops and other authorities yelling for her to stop.

y/n looked from left to right. she first saw nancy and jonathan, and robin sitting in the back of one ambulance. will was with his mother, with el and mike besides them. lucas was comforting max. she looked at the last ambulance and saw steve.

as soon as their eyes met, time slowed. steve dropped the blanket from his shoulders and y/n's worn out converse hit the asphalt again.

steve stood from the ambulance, and for the first time tonight a smile broke out onto his face. he didn't care it was hurting his eye.

his arms are wide open once y/n reaches him. hers instantly wrap around his shoulders as he lifts her off the ground.

"you're okay," y/n lets the tears fall from her eyes, her voice is strained. "you're here, you're really okay."

steve kisses the side of her head before setting her back on the ground, however neither of them let go of each other.

"i thought i lost you," y/n admits.

steve chuckles, "you could never get rid of me that easily."

y/n leans back, her eyes roaming over the boy in front of her. she sees the large bruise surrounding his swollen eye, and the tiny cuts on his lips.

steve copies her actions, not believing the girl in his arms is really here. this feels too much like a dream that he didn't want to wake up from.

y/n puts her hand gently on steve's cheek just as a tear falls from his right eye. his voice is soft and broken, "can you take me home?"

y/n nods immediately, and carefully takes his hand in hers to lead them both to her car. they're stopped briefly by a cop, to which they explain y/n would be taking steve home.

they sit in the car for a moment, while an abba song plays quietly over the radio. y/n leans forward to turn it off. she didn't think steve was in the mood to dance to anything, let alone listen to a happy pop song.

"are you okay?" y/n knew it was a stupid question to ask, but she had to ask anyway.

steve only nods, as he wipes his cheeks as more tears fall. y/n simply gives him her hand. his rough hand holds onto it the whole drive back to y/n's small one bed-one bath house.

"wait, i thought you were taking me home," steve announces once he watches her turn down the wrong street.

"you really think i'd let you stay home alone after whatever you went through?"

steve shrugs.

"how hard did they hit you?" y/n lets out an airy laugh, which steve reciprocates.

y/n looks over to the passenger side after parking on the street in front of her dark red door.

"thank you," steve's voice fills the silence of the car.

the two walk out of the and in the housr wordlessly. they both leave their shoes in a pile by the front door, and steve follows y/n to her room. he sees she left the tv and lights on, guessing she left in a hurry.

"you take a shower okay? then if you want i can help with the other cuts."

steve gratefully accepts y/n's offer. he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding once he sits on the edge of y/n's bed. she comes out of the bathroom after starting the shower, and making sure it wasn't too hot.

steve holds his arms open again, making y/n walk towards him. she stands between his thighs as he rests his head against her chest, hearing the pulse of her heartbeat. the girl leans down to place a kiss on his matted curls.

"i'll be here when you get out," y/n whispers into his hair.

as steve showers, he's careful when he reaches and cuts or bruises, and can't help but let more tears fall. by the end of it he couldn't tell if it was tears or water running down his face.

he's quick to dry off and doesn't mind the water falling back onto his face and neck from his wet hair.

he noticed his dried bloody work uniform was replaced by a pair of sweatpants, a tshirt and boxers. he smiled at the thought of y/n keeping a pair of his clothes here for him.

steve leaves the bathroom and is met with y/n coming back into her room with a small basket in her hands.

"hey," she smiles towards steve, "how are you feeling?"

"that was a must needed shower," he chuckles.

"what's that for?" he points to the wooven basket now placed on the bed.

"a couple things to help with your cuts."

after steve came over to y/n's house their junior year, with the aftermath of a fight with jonathan byers, the girl knew to keep a first aid kit just for steve.

y/n instructs for steve to lay on her bed. he gladly let a loud sigh leaves his lips once his back hits the mattress, making y/n chuckle.

she sits on the left side of steve, making her be in the middle of the bed. she easily leans over him to turn on the lamp placed on the night stand. steve can't help but blush at the close proximity.

"these are just wipes, to get any extra dried blood off," y/n starts walking him through the steps.

she's careful when wiping around the cuts on his lips, and is surprised he only winces once.

she moves to his hairline and bruise covering his eye. the swelling has gone down drastically, and she can now look at both of his beautiful brown eyes.

steve keeps his hands folded on his stomach while y/n takes care of him. she goes to the next step and takes peroxide and cotton balls to the cuts.

after the cotton meets his lips he grabs y/n's wrist. she mutters out many apologies, not meaning to hurt steve more.

"it's okay," he stops her rambling apologies, "just hurts way more than i thought it would."

y/n continues treating his wounds. every so often steve's eyes would float to her features. to her concerned eyes, crinkling at the corners. or to her hair that kept falling over her ear, to which she always put back, yet it never stayed.

y/n finally takes a warm towel, steve guessed was from the dryer, and she dabbed it over his lips and eye. she watched his shoulders relax as she held it over his eye.

"are you alright?" she felt like she asked the question a million times tonight.

steve nods, "never better."

another comfortable silence fills the room. steve now sits up, making y/n bring the towel to her lap. steve breaks the silence.

"did you always have that freckle?" his thumb traces the light freckle on her cheek. she blushes from the contact. before she answers, steve moves his hand to fix the strands of hair that have fallen in front of her ear. his hand goes back to holding her cheek.

y/n's eyes move between both of steve's brown ones.

"steve," y/n warns in a whisper as he starts moving closer to her.

"i want you y/n. thats the one thing i've never been more sure of tonight."

his soft words leave a tickling breath over y/n's lips.

y/n makes the move to lean forward. her right hand reaches to hold onto steve's bicep as her lips collide with his. the kiss only lasts for a few seconds before y/n pulls away. her cheeks are flushed as she sees steve's widened pupils.

steve simply pulls her back to him with the hand that was still on her cheek. he turns his head to deepen the kiss, and he can't help but smile against y/n's lips after feeling her hand move to his neck. she grips the damp hair, threading her fingers through it.

steve's left hand goes to y/n's lower back as he moves her to lay down. he's now hovering over her, with his thighs falling between hers.

the two pull away, both with blown pupils, flushed cheeks and swollen lips.

"do you want me to stay–"

"yes."

steve couldn't even finish his question before y/n answers quickly and pulls him down tp kiss him again, with much more hunger than before.

[penkura]

Plz do a Husband corazon + child Law for mother's day 💐💛

Y E S omg I love Corazon, he'd be such a great husband and father. 🥺 On par or even better than Sanji imo.

I hope you don't mind that Corazon and the Reader have a biological daughter as well, I just thought it would be cute!! I also made this a modern AU one, because damn it, Corazon deserved to be happy. :'(

(Note: This is out of order from all requests simply due to the theme. I have made progress on the others!)

Corazon would have a whole plan, partly put together by thirteen-year-old Law and your toddler, Evangeline. Your daughter would draw you a card, while Corazon and Law focused on making you breakfast and of course, it would go all kinds of wrong.

You wake up to hushed shouting between your husband and adoptive son, Law telling Corazon he's going to burn the bacon and to stop smoking while he cooks. Your husband retorts that it's fine, nothing bad is going to happen. He's not going to set anything on fire, unlike at Christmas. For a few minutes you lay there on your phone, listening to your family down the hall. Evangeline eventually comes into your bedroom, pulling on your blanket and calling for you to pay attention to her.

“Mommy, mommy!”

You roll over and lift her up into your bed, giving her a tight hug while she laughs and returns it. What a joy she is, that last nearly three years have been a blessing with her and Law around, you wouldn’t change it for the world. Yes, some people have given your small family odd looks—what are two twenty-six-year-olds doing with a toddler and a teenager?—but you’ve learned to tune them out and ignore them. It didn’t matter what others thought, they could assume you’d had a teen pregnancy all they wanted. It wasn’t the truth, but some wouldn’t even listen or believe you. After all, you’d tried to explain it to your coworkers when you and Corazon adopted Law just before Evangeline was born, but even those close to you didn’t understand it.

“What’ve you got there, Evie?”

“Your gift!” She beams at you and holds the card she’d made out, the biggest grin on her little face. Just as planned, it’s a card she scribbled together, you can recognize your husband’s handwriting to make the words legible, but it’s still adorable that she tried so hard to make you something. There’s a cute little drawing of your family in the card, making you smile and hug her again,

“Thank you, Evie! I—” you’re stopped by the smell of smoke before the smoke detector goes off and kick off your blanket, running down the hall with your daughter in your arms and hearing Law yell that everything is fine, though you’re at the kitchen doorway before he finishes speaking. “What is happening?!”

Law turns to you and points at Corazon, who is waving a towel over the completely burnt bacon to try and get the smoke and smell out the window. “He burned breakfast again!”

“Not like you were helping, little shi—” Corazon stops himself when you send him a glare and cover Evangeline’s ears, shaking your head at him. After the one time she said ‘bastard’, you’d been very watchful of what words were said in your house, “Look, it’s fine! We can salvage it!”

“No, we can’t! It’s burnt black!”

Corazon ignores Law’s complaints for the moment, coming over to kiss your forehead and smile at Evangeline. “Did you give mommy her card?”

“I did!”

“That’s my girl!” Evangeline giggles while Corazon turns back to kiss you as a proper good morning. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

“Thank you, beloved.”

You’re briefly interrupted by a fancy bouquet of flowers being shoved between the two of you, Law looking away shyly as he holds them there for you, his own gift for you for the day that makes you almost cry and heart ache. He’d been with you as your son for the last three years, but this was the first time he’d given you anything on this day. You’ll never truly take the place of his mother, like Corazon won’t really take his father’s place and Evangeline his sister’s, but you’re glad for the smallest bit of progress that has him viewing you all as his family, and you hope for him to continuing viewing you all in that light, even as he grows up and out of your home one day.

“…Happy Mother’s Day.”

Crouching down enough to be eye level with him, you give Law a kiss on the forehead and a smile.

“Thank you so much, Law. I love them.”

[kedsandtubesocks]

give you something to dream about

joel miller x f!reader

summary: It’s game night at the bar and you stumble upon the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen

warnings/tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, no outbreak AU, Joel has both of his daughters, ‘strangers at a bar and maybe something more’ scenario with eventual husband!Joel, mentions of drinking, spicy making out session, Joel gets a bit handsy, gendered language / reader is addressed as “baby” & “darlin” light football discussions and terminology, lovesick and possessive!Joel

word count: 4k

a/n: this is my love letter to Joel, his love for football and maybe my own love for Texas football as well lol. To have this as my first fic of the new year and for it being for Joel means so much. To come back and write for the Pedro fandom is special and means so much. Big thank you to my babe @ahauntedcowboy for letting me scream my sports girl head off about this, and for @lowlights for giving me guidance when I needed it. And lastly - thank you for reading, you are what truly makes this so incredibly special and wonderful

A mixture of bright neon and low soft white lights bathe the bar in a cozy ambient glow. The music is barely audible, a sort of after thought. Instead commotion and the ramble of sports announcers fills the room.

You manage to squeeze through the sea of onlookers dressed in burnt orange. Maria thankfully stays close to you. Now at the bar counter relief floods you as you lean against it.

“Order me a beer, I’m gonna find our table.” Maria yells over the liveliness swirling around.

You give her a thumbs up and thankfully don’t have to wait for the bartender long.

“Like your shirt!”

The bartender’s voice catches you instantly. Bright and direct you blink towards him. He’s cute, young, maybe a grad student from UT Austin who works here.

You can’t help but glance down at what you’re wearing.

Even under your jacket the shirt is comfortably a bit larger on you. The main focus is the old cartoon type logo of Bevo, the Texas Longhorn's mascot. The burnt orange coloring is faded adding to its weathered look.

A warmth flutters through you from just seeing it.

“It’s vintage, cool as hell.” The bartender continues admiring.

“Thanks. Uh, a friend of mine gave it to me.” Thankfully the bartender nods understandingly and doesn’t press the topic more. Instead he soon asks what you’ll be having.

You order Maria’s beer and a drink for yourself.

“So, you a big Texas fan? Well okay, I mean…you gotta be if you’re here.” The bartender, grabbing a drink glass, starts up another conversation with you as his tone becomes playful.

“A lot of people I know and love are. So by default I am too.” You admit with a sleepy grin.

“Aw,” his face melts. “Now that’s sweet. Well glad to have you here cheering for Texas.”

The bartender now even winks at you. You politely laugh but then, the bar erupts silencing the conversation.

Excited yells come so loud you jump out of your skin. Quickly you turn around to view the many tvs and projectors showing the game.

From what you can tell the Texas defense managed to take down the quarterback. You even watch the replay to see what the fuss is about. It was a good tackle and the play kept the other team’s quarterback from even advancing.

The game has you memorized now. You watch as the burnt orange and white uniforms of the players scramble like chaotic ants now trying to rush after the ball was kicked, no, punted to them.

Your lips twitch. You never would’ve thought you knew this much football terminology or could at least follow the game. Yet here you are.

The bartender clears his throat and embarrassingly fast you turn back around.

Not two but three drinks sit before you on the bar counter.

One happens to be a surprise shot that makes your eyes go wide.

“Uh, so the guy at the end of the bar sent it your way.” The bartender explains lowly, trying to be discreet about it.

Your eyes instead whip up to search for the mystery man. Then your heart sprouts wings when you discover him.

Leaning against the bar rail at the very opposed end of where you are, the man seems like something out of a romance novel’s dream.

Ruggedly handsome, his distinguished aged face and striking nose glow against the mixture of neon and dim lighting. It highlights the grays in his beard and gorgeous dark hair. His chocolate eyes bore into you as if you’re the only one in this bar.

His attention on you alone has your knees weak and you wonder maybe you suddenly turned into jello.

Your mystery man lifts his beer up to you, a silent ‘cheers’ and then takes a sip.

Just watching him take a swig of his beer has you dizzy. So you readily snatch up the shot, toast it back to him and down it.

The alcohol burns, but you’re surprised it’s your favorite liquor of choice. You can’t help but cough up wildly and the bartender snickers at your reaction. It’s been too long since you’ve had a shot and you’re thankful to chase the stinging sensation down with your mixed drink.

“Hey!” Maria’s voice calls out and her bright smile greets you as she slides through the packed crowd.

“Hope you didn’t think I forgot about you.” She laughs warmly. She grabs her beer and slides a tip to the bartender.

But then her eyes notice the empty glass.

“Oh? You took a shot without me?” She teases.

You tell her someone bought it for you and her eyebrows fly up fast in eager surprise.

“Oh?” Even her tone is warmly excited. “You get a good look at who your mystery shot buyer is?”

You turn your attention towards the end of the bar, right where he should be. Except your mystery man has vanished.

A bit of disappointment trickles in.

“I did, but guess he took off.” You tell Maria a bit low.

“Well, his loss then. Come on! Let’s head back to our table-”

“S’cuse me…”

A smooth deep and accented drawl, direct and firm enough cuts through the commotion politely cutting in on Maria.

Just as fast, there’s suddenly a deep warmth behind your back. The presence is broad, warm, and smells of the beautiful hint of a sandalwood cologne.

“If you don’t mind, I think I might steal this pretty gem for myself.” The accent seems thicker now and melts off his voice like sin.

He’s talking about you.

Maria smiles wildly entertained while her eyes flicker between you and your mystery man.

Silently you stare back and with pleading eyes you mentally communicate that yes you want to stay, yes it’s okay for her to head back.

“Alrighty then, see you two later.” She says grabbing her beer and gives you one last amused look before heading back to the table.

Your heart races so loud in your ears you don’t even notice the upset yells at a bad call given by the refs.

“…Howdy…”

The voice purrs, absolutely dances against the noise of the bar and beckons to you, your personal siren’s song.

Turning around the shadow of the mystery man falls over you. He stares down with those obsidian pool eyes as his lips turn into a boyish grin.

“I’m Joel. S’nice to meet you.”

You think about all the songs that sing about Texas beauty and how they all must have actually been speaking of this man.

Joel extends his hand out to you and the simple pure southern gentleman introduction has excitement bubbling in you like you’re a champagne bottle about to pop.

Your lips fight back a disbelieved smile as you introduce yourself and shake his hand.

It’s larger than yours, warm and beautifully callous that speaks of hard work. Joel leans closer to you and you can’t help but slide more towards him as well.

“I like your shirt.” His fingers playfully tugs at the bottom edge of your shirt.

“Thanks,” you take a sip of your drink to gain more courage. “A friend of mine let me wear it.”

Joel laughs. It’s warm, touches his face and sounds like it settles in his chest.

“A friend huh?” His voice grows even more amused.

You simply hum a nod as you take another sip of your drink. Your body hums with so many wonderful emotions like a jenga tower trying to hold onto its form on a moving table.

“That friend of yours a boyfriend?” Joel asks, a dark drawl sticky as molasses and trapping you to him.

You can’t help but shake your head no. The taste of your drink momentarily settles you.

“Pretty thing like you single? Ain’t that a shame.” Joel comments with a low rumble and all the ease you had gathered floats away.

Your eyes flicker back to Joel. But your focus goes between his stunning eyes and his lips. You don’t miss the way his eyes gloss over, become hooded with a hazy desire. How much it intensifies his gorgeous features makes your stomach flutter.

The game must have quieted down or maybe you’re just this focused on this man.

He moves to whisper in your ear.

“So…Wanna find a nice quiet spot to chat? Get to know each other better?” His lips softly graze your ear and an electric current runs up your spine.

“Yeah.” You mutter back now tipsy off Joel’s presence.

The moment you agree, Joel’s hand slips towards your waist and draws you to his side. He quickly slams down plenty of bills on the counter to cover for the drinks and tip. Your poor drink and his are forgotten.

Now Joel shifts into a man focused.

Squaring up his shoulders, he stands taller as he takes the lead. His broad shoulders become a guiding force, keeping you close to him. His hand intertwines with yours while he navigates you among the crowds.

His larger hand suddenly squeezes yours, a reassuring pressure that draws you closer to him. Moving through the tables against the crowds, you arrive at the outdoor patio where the early night air clears your mind.

Joel continues guiding you to a smaller area where the bathrooms are outside by the patio. You stand before the family restroom that holds the sweet title of “cowpokes” on it. Opening the door, Joel leads you inside. You take in the slightly larger yet still small rustic bathroom that glows under the murky amber light.

The door locks behind you and you turn around to find Joel staring you down with hunger brewing in his smokey eyes.

That’s all you can focus on before you get caught up in a dizzying whirlwind.

Hastily Joel rushes forward to pin you against the wall. His body firm and large presses so deliciously against you. Before your eyes can even soak in the close sight of him, he sweeps in and kiss you with a ravenous fierceness that steals your breath.

He quickly consumes you.

Joel faintly tastes of beer and something intoxicatingly uniquely him. While his hand moves to hold your face, his tongue licks into your mouth, diving in, almost trying to get drunk off you. You can’t help but draw him closer to you as much as you can. You want your nails to dig into him the same way he’s burning under your skin and seeping into your core

His hips begin to grind against you with an eased pace and you moan into his mouth. You want more, need more.

“Oh baby.” Joel groans out and sounds like sticky delicious sin.

Suddenly the loudest cheers leak into the bathroom.

So fierce in their excitement it echos into the room and freezes you and Joel immediately.

He sighs against your lips.

“We must‘ve scored.” Joel mutters.

“Are you upset you didn’t see it?” You ask gently and kiss his lips soft as the heat begins to settle.

“Nah. I’m aimin’ to score here myself.” He grins and the line has you laughing. Your face goes to rest against his as you continue to snicker. The prickle of his beard gently scratching against your skin feels wonderful.

“Darlin’ you’re killin’ me. I wanted to sound slick.” Joel sighs again, sounding deflated now.

“You did...sort of.” You smile.

“Forgive me,” He smirks and turns to press another soft kiss against your lips. “Been outta practice for a while.”

“You aren’t too bad, cowboy. You managed to get me in here.” You hum amused while your fingers run against his jaw, through his scruffy wonderful beard.

Joel chuckles and it dances within his chest, resonating through him.

“You’re the only one I want in here.” He mutters.

You and him share a few more soft slow eased kisses that are rushed, almost shy now.

With one last kiss, a deeply melting one that now makes you ache to keep him here, Joel pulls away. You hold yourself back from pouting.

But, you’re now rewarded with the sight of Joel fully before you. The dim amber light paints him like something pulled from a sunset dream, an aged handsome man so sweet with his furrowed concentrated eyes.

You watch Joel pat around his jean pockets and suddenly your eyes go wide.

“Joel Miller if you lost them-”

“Calm down!” He huffs cutting you off while he rapidly digs into his deep jeans pocket. He yanks something out in his grasp.

He smoothly slides closer back to you and holds out his palm where two wedding rings sit waiting.

His and yours.

Your heart melts out of your chest seeing them and your ring finger itches for its missing piece. You grab Joel’s ring, leaving him yours and move to slide his back onto his hand.

In the same manner, Joel slides your wedding band back onto its rightful place. The memory of when you did this at your actual wedding faintly flutters in and settles warm in your heart’s chamber.

Joel draws your hand to his lips and kisses your knuckles.

This man, your husband - you yank him towards you again to kiss him.

It’s a kiss that’s like coming home, of sweetness and cultivated bliss reuniting together again.

“Wanna see that bartender try flirtin’ with ya now with that ring on your finger.” Your grumpy husband grumbles adorably.

You bark a laugh. “Oh please, he was being nice for the tip and you know it.”

“Uh huh.” Joel dryly huffs as he stares at you unamused.

“Hey he was nice. He even liked my shirt.” You reply back.

“My shirt.” Joel clarifies strongly. “That’s my shirt.”

You roll your eyes playful.

He is right though. The shirt is his. Your husband is a superstitious football fan. And ever since you wore his shirt and Texas won, Joel used his beautiful brown eyes as weapons to get you to wear his shirt every game since then.

“Come on, curious to see what the score is.” With one last sweet kiss, Joel leads you back out into the evening air.

Hand in hand with him, you find your way to Tommy and Maria. Both of them brighten up at the sight of you and Joel.

“Hey! Look at that! You’re a married man again!” Tommy cries happily and you laugh. Joel, after sliding your chair in for you, rolls his eyes now while you and Maria snicker to each other.

“Bet it was fun while it lasted.” Maria grins.

“Eh.” You shrug but the truth tugs at your lips amused.

A few nights ago, when you and Joel had come up with this idea of going to the bar without the rings, pretending to not know each other, you worried for a split moment that you’d enjoy the freedom.

You worried you would realize how much you missed and enjoyed the playful banter, the flirting and pull that comes with being single. But instead you simply found your way back to Joel.

The excitement of seeing him, of having that same sensation rush through you like it did when you first met him, was nostalgically addictive for a moment.

However, you instead soak in the comfort of sitting beside Joel because it feels like coming home. While being single for another moment again was fun, you want to find Joel in every lifetime, find him as your husband in every universe.

The bar suddenly breaks into wild excitement. Joel as well cheers so loud. You turn to the game and find Texas intercepted a pass.

Now you go to check your phone and find both your daughters thankfully are doing fine. Sarah even sent you a photo text of her and Ellie at the classmate’s birthday party they’re both at. There’s a lightness that settles into your bones seeing them and having their father, your husband, beside you.

Joel and Tommy, as if they’re ESPN announcers in deep analysis, dive back into how Texas needs to sharpen up their offensive line. It’s adorable. It makes you fall in love even more with him.

Maria goes to ask Tommy something about the game and Joel leans towards you.

“You happy to be married again?” His voice drops soft and low. You catch the hint of true curiosity and almost hesitation residing under his tone.

“Of course. It’s my luckiest day all over again.” You truthfully tell him with a warm grin.

“Yeah?” He mutters tenderly as his eyes flicker to your lips again. “Make sure you share some of that luck with the team alright?”

You playfully nudge his arm and Joel smirks. You love him like this, light and teasing.

Joel drops a kiss to the side of your head.

“Don’t worry baby, this is my lucky day too. Goin’ home with the most gorgeous person here and I’m married to her.”

You could say the same thing. You’re leaving with the most handsome man and knowing you’re married to him? You feel honored, proud, and grateful.

Even when he starts yelling at the quarterback as if the poor guy can hear him.

“I could throw a better pass than that!” He argues upset.

You’re not as big of a fan as Joel, but Texas holds a place in your heart forever. It intertwined you and him in its own unique way.

Back when you were dating Joel patiently explained the game, so gently spoke to you without any judgment when you asked questions you were sure would make any other seasoned fan mock you or get annoyed. But not your Joel.

The first big moment you met Ellie and Sarah it was over at his place during a Texas game.

You experienced how wildly invested Ellie got, just like Joel, and how amused Sarah got seeing her dad and sister scream at the tv. From that point - all the days, the games, laughs and moments cultivated into a path that has led you to this moment, to this bar.

And now, here you are.

You love Joel’s love for the game, for the sport. You love how it’s connected you to him.

“Honey, you okay?” The voice of your husband pulls you from your thoughts, like a call home.

You turn to find Joel intently looking at you, your sweetheart provider. You can’t help but grin and nod.

“Yup, just thinking about the handsome stranger I met earlier. Hope he asks for my number.” You tell him.

Joel breaks into a chuckle that touches his earth eyes.

“Between you and me, he’d be a fool if he didn’t.” His hand now slides to yours, his thumb even begins to twist and fiddle with your wedding ring, a sweet habit of his.

You snort amused at how effortlessly he can play along with you.

Before you can tease him again or even wander back into your thoughts, the crowd roars to life with shouts. All eyes including yours snap to the game.

Texas just intercepted the ball and the play breathes life into the bar, into your husband who claps loud and proud.

It’s a great energy to see the end of the second quarter and the start of the halftime.

Suddenly, Joel’s hand begins softly trailing against your thigh. Warm and almost eased, the slow movement ignites a blooming desire in your chest.

Joel easily laughs with Tommy about the game. His eyes stay on his brother. Yet Joel’s hand slides now confidently deeper into the inside of your thigh. Your throat tightens and heat now begins to soak between your thighs, almost daring him to touch you.

Then a collection of happy cheers burst in the bar and steals all the attention.

All the tables nearby including yours turn to find a group of ladies. One of them currently grabs the cowboy hat off a taller man who grins so warmly down at her. She laughs loudly after doing what had to have been a wild shot.

The guy orders her, and her friends, another round causing them to squeal loud and excited again. Maria leans back to talk to Tommy and so you too lean closer to your own husband.

“Maybe I should pretend to be single again.” You tell Joel. “To see if I’ll get free shots and attention like that.”

Not that you’d want any of that. You just enjoy teasing your sweet grumpy husband from time to time.

“Nope.” Joel says with an unwavering sharpness. “You ain’t going anywhere without that ring Mrs. Miller.”

His words are rather light, almost playful, but you catch the underlying possessive simmering. It ignites an even stronger warmth beneath your skin.

“And who says you don’t get free shots? I’ll buy you as many as ya want.” Joel adds and his clipped almost ruffled voice has you laughing.

But as you settle, your thoughts wander. The smell of Joel so close, the mixture of his faint cologne and the detergent you use to wash his clothes, brings back the sensation of having that smell surround you when you were in the restroom with him.

It makes you ache.

Your hand now softly wanders to rub his warm broad chest. A low rumble comes from him, an awareness of your presence as you drape against him now. Maria and Tommy thankfully have begun to make fast friends with the couple sitting beside your table.

Your face leans to rest against Joel’s and the slick honey like desire you felt earlier creeps over you once more. It urges you to be bold.

“Wanna go mess around before halftime is over?” You offer soft and low, only for his ears.

Joel peers over to you, his eyes now smoldering coals.

“You wanna?” He mutters back.

Your answer comes as a soft kiss you place against his cheek. However, your hand now begins to slide up his thigh just like he did to you earlier.

Joel loudly clears his throat and sits up fast which untangles you from him. Immediately he yanks out his wallet to slam his card on the table.

Tommy and Maria now blink back at the sudden action.

“Order anything y'all want. We gotta grab somethin’ from the truck.” Joel lies effortlessly.

But Maria knows as she grins knowingly while embarrassment instead rises in you.

And apparently her husband isn’t as easily fooled either.

“Yeah yeah! Get outta here ya horn dogs!”

Joel barks a sharp ‘hey!’ at his younger brother’s crudeness while you can only laugh against him. Tommy simply makes obnoxious kissy faces while Maria snickers besides him. Unable to endure anymore teasing Joel playfully calls Tommy a piece of shit and with that you wave a quick and thankful to Tommy and Maria.

Joel once again leads the way to the entrance.

The two of you now stay stuck together closer than earlier. An almost giddy frenzy now keeps you both hyper aware of the other. His hands keep you so firmly close to him.

The giddiness you had earlier while pretending to be single with Joel is nothing compared to this. This feeling swirling in you comes from knowing you get to sneak away with your husband. It has you floating, only tied to this world by Joel keeping you steady and protected.

Around you, small chatter about the game hangs in the air.

Texas might not win. But as you slide closer to Joel, a unique shade of triumph washes over you.

Your good man, your wonderful husband.

He is your victory and champion.

Your victory lap and your welcome home party all at once.

And when he kisses you wildly against the side of his truck…you think he might also be your sneaky devilish opponent as his hand already starts to slip under your, no his shirt.

And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[luci4theminorannoyance]

Hihi! I’m in an angsty mood, so if it’s no bother would you mind writing falsely suspected traitor!reader (gn) with Gaz, ghost, soap, velikan, roach, Keegan and Krueger (I’m sorry, I don’t know your character limit, it’s completely up to you how many and which of them you want to write for!!) but they only find out reader is innocent after they already tortured reader?

Reader does forgive them but is very much traumatised, believing it’s something they did in order to bring suspicion to themselves, so reader starts to act differently. More meek and withdrawn, always keeping their head down and voice quiet, flinches and has low self esteem, …etc

Of course no pressure to write this at all!! And I’m sorry if any of the phrasing is weird, English is not my first language 😅

Hope you have a great day/evening!

a/n: I’m pretty sure I have a request just like this in my inbox and drafts somewhere lol (my drafts from old old requests are still gathering dust I’m so so so sorry to the people who requested btw)

Gaz:

-heart shattered with the most painful look on his face when he found out you didn’t lie to him. That you were innocent.. that when he was doing everything to pull info out of you and treating you like scum, that your answers of ‘I’m not lying!’ And pleas were all.. real

-went to you the second he could, shivering in self hatred especially when he saw the wounds he had caused on your body

-once you finally got back to good terms, he could see all the damage he did and it hurt him so much. He wanted YOU back, the loud, funny, unworried you… he didn’t know what to do

soap:

-held you so close for so long as soon as he figured out you didn’t lie to him. Or the team.

-tried everything and I mean EVERYTHING to try to get you back to how you were before it all

-every time you flinch or whisper, he can feel his guilt stabbing him though the heart, he can just imagine how you must feel.. and to think he could have helped.

-If he wasn’t so close to the rest of the team, he probably would have yelled at all of 141 for even assuming you were the traitor

ghost:

-feels so utterly guilty, like a wound was given to himself rather then you

-hates the fact he genuinely thought you would ever do that to him

-tried to distance himself from you now that you were back… he was just so guilty

-what if he hurt you again? What if you were still mad? What if you hated him now? He just couldn’t face it.

-when he found out you forgave him, an invisible weight was lifted off of him. But as he saw you be so quiet, he could feel his hands sake and his body almost collapse. He did this. He hurt his lover. He could never trust himself with you like he used to again.

-was oh so careful with you since then.. but could never shake the guilt

velikan:

-he HATED you when he thought you were a traitor. He had deleted every photo. Burnt every gift. Broke any shared thought. So finding out he had lost all of that hurt him so much he sat and cried for days, begging and pleading to anything that time could rewind and that he could have his memories and gifts back

-he tried so hard to make new ones with you to, he basically followed you like a lost puppy. But he knew even though you forgave him, he was damned to feel guilt every time you weren’t your same old self

-he missed his memories of you in photos and pages of his journals, he missed your bright smile and loud confidence, he missed all the things you changed from trauma he didn’t stop

-he hated himself for hating you when you were so innocent

keegan:

-he felt rage, rage at his teammates, rage at the captain who reported you for suspicious activity, and most of all, rage at himself for not protecting you like he always promised you he would

-couldn’t stand seeing you flinch, couldn’t stand not being able to reassure you that it would be okay and that he would protect you if it ever happened again

-because he knew his words of protection didn’t mean anything now. He had failed to protect you and even participated in harming you for something as simple as a claim…

kreuger:

-he thought that as soon as he started to fix things, you yourself would get fixed. But he was so wrong

-tried anything he could think of to make you feel safe to be yourself again, and whenever it didn’t work he’d secretly shed a tear

-it was like seeing his lovers ghost.. you weren’t you anymore, and it shattered him so much that he couldn’t fix it

-he could fix his guns, he could clean up your wounds, he could tell you that it was okay to be yourself again, he could fix the broken mirrors in his room, but he couldn’t fix you. He couldn’t get you back the way he remembered you, and he knew no matter how many years of therapy kortac paid for, it still wouldn’t fix you perfectly…

[sorbetisfruity]

Part twooooo to my Crowely fic!!

Oh Crowley, why can’t you get your lazy crow ass up and find us a way home?:(((

Also I’m sorry for such a late post!! I fucked up my ankle and had to be in the hospital for a lil bit!

Part 1 Part two

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You awoke to frantic yelling. The person (people??? It sounded like more than one at this point…) sounded worried and scared.

“What did you do to them?! Why did we find them PASSED OUT on your office floor Dire Crowley?!” A voice screeched out.

Oh yeah, that’s what happened.

You went off on the headmaster of the school you were forced into. The school you were forced into because you were sent here on accident and that stupid mirror can’t send you back.

And that said headmaster hasn’t been looking for a way home for you.

Now, you have zero hope of going home.

And your body hurts.

Your body hurts a lot.

It feels like there’s a cauldron on your chest. It’s heavy. You can barely breath.

Your head feels as if Crowley hit you in the head with his cane a dozen times. You can’t tell if you’re about to throw up or pass out all over again..

“I didn’t do anything! They came in, and passed out on my floor.” Crowley defended himself, completely leaving out the whole “yelling and crying” part.

“It sounded like it was way more than that.” Someone chimed in, sounding tired and pissed off.

…was that Leona??

“It was more than that..” you croaked out, opening your eyes and trying to sit up. “Way more than that..actually..”

“PREFECT!!” A series of voices shouted. You could vaguely make out their blurry figures as they ran over to you.

“Prefect, are you alright?!” Deuce yelped as he was pushed to the side almost immediately by Floyd.

“Shrimpy!! We came as soon as we heardddd!! What happened? Do I need to squeeze somebody?” He said, winking as he pointed at Crowley.

You smiled weakly, admiring his efforts to make you feel better.

Your arms nearly gave out as you tried to sit up, you felt a hand land on your back to steady you.

“Take it easy. We don’t want you getting more hurt than you already are, Prefect.”

You looked to your other side, seeing Riddle in all of his glory.

God, was everyone here??

You looked around, seeing that, yeah, everyone really came to see you.

From Leona and Ruggie, to Malleus and Lilia.

You didn’t realize they cared so much about you..

God damnit.

This makes everything so much harder.

How were you supposed to go back home knowing these guys care about you?

“Hey Herbivore, you never answered us. What happened back there?” Leona spoke, sitting down on the edge of your bed and breaking your trance.

Were you in the nurses office???

“Oh..uhm..well..I went into Crowleys office to ask him if he finally found me a way home..” you said, seeing everyone’s expressions drop as you spoke.

Gazing at everybody, you realized their once concerned expressions now looked distraught and upset.

Especially Malleus’s. Who made eye contact with you before looking at the ground, not daring to look you in the eyes.

“As most of you know, we helped Vil with his overblot yesterday..”

“And I got hurt, everybody got hurt! I almost got poisoned, I am burnt and beaten, I LIMPED to Crowleys office. I didn’t walk, I limped because my leg hurts so fucking badly.”

You could see Vil flinch out of the corner of your eye, making you look down at the bed guiltily.

Everyone looked so sad. You’re making everyone sad.

God you feel awful..

“Listen, I’m only a student, okay? A magicless one at that. I don’t have any magic to fight like you guys do. I’m practically useless in fights and magic related classes!! Do you know how hard it is to tackle these overblots when you’re magicless? I have to rely on my strength to get through these fucking things. And when they’ve been happening back-to-back for WEEKS now?? It’s hard to heal. Mentally and physically.”

“And, I love you guys so much, I promise you. I don’t regret meeting or befriending any of you. I could never regret meeting or befriending any of you. Don’t get me wrong, you guys can get annoying!” You said, looking at Ace and Grim, who gave you an offended look.

“But I love you guys a lot. I couldn’t be happier to have friends like you all.”

After your little heart-to-heart speech, they seemed a lot happier.

Lilia came over to cling to you, grabbing your left arm as Grim jumped into your lap, nuzzling you lovingly.

Leona laid down at your feet, curled up. It almost seemed as if he was going to take a nap..

Malleus came over to your left side as well, joining Lilia as he held your hand.

Azul rubbed your back comfortingly as Kalim grabbed your other hand, an uncharacteristic frown on his face.

“But guys, I’m so tired. I’m in so much pain 24/7. I can barely get any sleep because I’m in constant agony.” You complained, frowning as you looked at your legs.

There were little colorful bandages placed on all of your cuts now. But the bruises littered around still remained. They popped out to you more than the neon bandages now.

“I miss home. I miss homecooked meals and my parents! I miss my old, warm bedroom and my bed! My bed at Ramshackle feels like I’m sleeping on concrete. The meals I cook don’t taste the same anymore. Hell I can barely afford food for both me and Grim because Crowley doesn’t give us enough money. There’s been so many nights where I’ve went to bed hungry because I didn’t want Grim to.”

You could feel everyone stare at you as you talked, making you feel embarrassed.

You’re really letting everyone know everything. All the bullshit you’ve went through since you got here.

“And it’s not like I can get a job anywhere around here because no one’s hiring! And I’ve already tried everywhere here. I’ve begged and pleaded with every shop owner here, but no one will hire me because they “don’t need any help” or “already have too much staff”! But I know the real reason is because I’m magicless. I can’t do anything if I don’t have magic!!” You squeezed Malleus’s and Kalims hands as you talked, gritting your teeth as you teared up.

“I’m just…I’m so sick of it guys. I love you all so much but..ever since I got here it’s been problems and battles and various accidents left and right. I’m exhausted. I’m homesick. I’m so burnt out!! Hell, I have no idea how I’m able to keep my grades up when most of these classes involve magic. I think the teachers just take it easy on me..” you trailed off, picking at a neon blue bandaid on your leg.

“I’m so sorry for causing all of this trouble. I never meant for any of this bullshit to happen, I..” you winced as you pulled a little too hard on the bandaid you were picking at.

“…I just wanted to see if he had found me a way home yet..”

The room was flooded with silence once you stopped talking.

No one knew what to say. And, really, what could they say?

Some understood how you felt. Others had no idea, as they have never experienced this before.

However, there was one emotion everyone in that room shared.

Sadness.

They could feel the sadness wash over them like waves as you talked about home and how you miss it.

Malleus’s hand squeezed yours consolingly, making you look up at everyone.

“..Prefect.”

You turned your head towards the voice.

It was Vil.

He never called you prefect. It was always Potato, or Spudling, or Kartoffel!

And Kartoffel is just potato in German..

“I am sorry you are in so much pain. And I am sorry I have caused you so much suffering. If you’d like, I’m quite sure there is some sort of healing potion I can brew for you. That way you are in as little agony possible.” Vil took your hand from Kalim, holding it gently as to not hurt you more than he already has.

This was out of character for Vil. You never saw a soft side of him during the VDC.

But you can’t say you didn’t like it. It has been a while since you’ve been nurtured and taken care of.

Hell that hasn’t happened since..

Since you were at home. With your mother.

“And me and Jamil can cook some food for you!!! A good meal will heal you up!” Kalim said excitedly, leaning against the bed to get closer to you as he talked.

“And you are always welcome at the Mostro Lounge if you ever need some time to relax and take a breather, Prefect.” Azul spoke, still rubbing your back comfortingly.

“As you know, you’re always welcome at Heartslabyul. If you ever want to play some crochet or cards, or simply just want to relax? We’re here.” Riddle spoke, gesturing to Ace, Deuce, Cater, and Trey.

“And if your bed ain’t comfortable, come over to Savanaclaw. My beds comfy and has room for two, Herbivore.” Leona chimed in, sitting up and smirking at you.

You teared up as you looked at everyone.

You can’t believe they care about you so much. That they’d stay here and listen to you talk and offer to help you. That they actually came to see you and are worried about you.

You can’t believe that they..

That they actually care.

Tears ran down your face like waterfalls, making you let go of Vil’s and Malleus’s hands to wipe them away quickly.

“I’m sorry it was never my plan to cry in front of you all..god this so embarrassing..” you sobbed, frantically wiping your tears away.

“Prefect no!! It’s okay to cry. It’s okay. You can cry. We’re here for you.” Kalim spoke calmly, climbing up onto the bed and wrapping his arms around you.

“Kalim is right. It’s okay to cry Prefect. Get it all out..” Riddle agreed, patting your shoulder.

You could feel someone’s pointed nails running through your hair and scraping your scalp gently. It was relaxing, it felt so nice. It made you feel sleepier than you already did.

Azul rubbing your back so softly didn’t help either..

You yawned, leaning against Kalims soft shoulder as you closed your eyes.

“..thank you. I love you all so much…” you spoke sleepily, weakly raising your head to look at everyone.

“Of course Prefect. While you’re sleeping, I’ll go and make that healing potion.”

“And me and Jamil will make you some food while you’re sleeping as well. That way when you wake up, it’ll be ready!”

“Jade and Floyd will bring down some of our finest desserts from the Mostro Lounge.”

“And it can all take place at Heartslabyul. We can all play Crochet and relax together.”

“I’ll take you back to Savanaclaw for now Herbivore. You can sleep in my bed instead of this thing.”

You heard them converse and decide what to do as you slowly fell asleep, feeling lighter and sleepier than you have in a while.

You couldn’t be more thankful to have such amazing friends.

“Sleep well, Prefect.”

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I’m so sleepy, and this is soooo longggg!! But I hope you guys enjoy it!!!!

[lunatic-pudge]

Scout, Pyro, Demo, Medic, Sniper, and Spy Relationship Headcanons

Can you tell which ones are my absolute favorite:')

Scout

• Unsurprisingly, it takes him a long time to get over his infatuation of Ms. Pauling (I'm 110% convinced she's a lesbian), so you must be basically a deity to be catching his attention (though he'd the type to flirt with EVERYONE)

• Golden retriever energy, also youngest child energy. Constantly wants to do everything for you but also needs constant attention. He's also used to be getting picked on by the other mercs and his older brothers so he'll be going to you for validation. But he also doesn't want to appear weak so it'll take some time to break through his (fragile) shell.

• Love language: physical touch and acts of services. Will be constantly trying to act like a macho man for you but will also beg to hold your hand. Cuddles are constant. He may not be good at being a handyman, but my gods he's gonna try his darndest. Plz tell him that he did a good job, he's trying his best.

• He's the best person to go to if you wanna go on randon and unexpected adventures. One minute you're both in Teufort, the next your across country at the beach up east coast. Poor thing gets yelled at a lot for just uping and leaving without notice.

• Local snack dealer. Ma is always making sure that he's got sweets on hand. His room has care packages from her with some of the most wholesome letters from her and the box if FILLED to the brim with sweets, treats, and soda

Pyro

• My little baby boo, a wholesome partner who would kill for you. Can get jealous very easily so you might have to hold them back from committing manslaughter.

• Love language: quality time and gift giving. Time with Pyro is time well spent. Constantly just wants to be in the same room with you. They don't do well when you're not around. Also loves to give gifts. Most of their gifts consit of stuffed animals and handmade drawings. Your room will be filled with gifts from this goofball.

• In my opinion, they're a lot more there than people realize. Some days are better than others though. They were literally CEO of an engeneering company! And I believe they made all their weapons to but I could be wrong on that. Homie is definitely reliable when they're having a good day, but on the bad days, just sit and spend time with them. You don't gotta say anything, just knowing your right there beside them is enough conformation to know you'll always be there no matter what.

• You two are little troublemakers. You'll constantly be up to no good with them. It seems like harmless fun, but you've both almost burnt down the base five times just this month!

Demoman

• Probably one of the best lovers you could have out of all the mercs (aside from Engie, they're competing for the number one spot). I'm deducting points cause of the nonstop alcohol consumpution. :(

• But he is a happy goofy dunk so thank gods for that. Always happy to be here. Very attentive, caring, cuddly, overall a good person to date or even just be friends with.

• Cause the constant alcohol ruined a good portion of his memory (and Medic as well), he writes down every little detail of you that he can in a little journal he secretly keeps on his person. Important dates, likes, dislikes, ect. The man has it on file in case of emergencies.

• Love language: gift giving and act of services. He works three jobs and makes over 5 mil a year, he's LOADED. He's gonna buy you the world if you ask. Definitely good at money managing so he never worried at how much gifts cost. He's also gonna try his darndest to help you out with any problems, though it can be a bit hard when you're constantly drunk. Hims trying his best, okay?

• Wants his mom to approve of you but knows how critical she is of him. Poor baby has some self-esteem issuses cause of her so please give him lots of love and support. It's hard when your mom never has anything nice to say about you and compares you to everyone else. It's a neverending struggle. :(

Medic

• You're definitley into weird and questionable people if you like this man, and that means we're best friends now. :D

• He will ask you to help him out with surgeries and organizing his lab. You're hims little nurse. He'd probably (absolutley) be getting you a nurse outfit with his symbol on it.

• He's very much the possessive type. What's his is HIS, no if, ands, buts, or questions about it. Would put a tracker in you so he knows where you are at all times, but someone would have to talk him out of doing it... for now...

• Constantly talks about you to his birds, if any on them ever have babies, he's naming one after you. Would get you a stuffed dove plushie to cuddle with at night when he can't be there with you

• Love language: physical touch and quality time, you're ALWAYS welcomed in his lab, in fact, he expects you to be there with him. Is the type to ask you to grab something and will graze his hands against yours when grabbing it from you. (then give a shit eating smirk afterwards) He'd also be the type to stand VERY close to you, and stand behind you in an intimidating way to keep others from talking to you.

Sniper

• This man is my all time baby boy so I have LOTS to say about him and how much I love him :')

• Is someone who takes a while to get close to, especially in a romantic way. He's just a shy little boy who's used to being alone. But isn't introverted, just has introverted tendencies (you literally see him hanging out with some of the other mercs in Expiration Date)

• Love language: words of affirmations and physical touch, he sucks at verbally saying how he feels about you but will leave cute little love notes around for you to find. He's also VERY touched-starved so he will just flat out lay on top of you if you let him. Loves hearing you say how much you love him, plz just hold his hands and say how much he means to you, he might just cry from it.

• Is also someone who goes on random adventures, but they're usually just out and away from everyone. But I could see him taking you to a zoo or aquarium to look at the animals. But you're not allowed to go to a Humane Society cause you'll be walking out with all the animals they have and raising them like they're your babies,

Spy

• Another gremlin who takes a long time to warm up to you. He's a grumpy old man who's never really been with someone in such a serious light (aside from Scout's Ma)

• Love language: gift giving and words of affirmation, another merc who would buy you the world if you asked. Will only buy you the best of the best and will throw hands with someone if it's not up to his standards. He could go on about his love for you. His words sound like poetry. You'd wake up with a bouquet of roses and one of the most beautiful love letters anyone has ever read.

• Is 50/50 on PDA, he'll wrap an arm around your waist, call you beautiful, and give you a peck on the cheek in front of others but that's about it. Any extreme PDA is to be in private or you're getting a scolding.

• Would definitely help you learn French. He's way more patient with you than anyone else. You've seen him yell and insult every merc a couple times (Scout getting the brunt of it), but he refuses to ever say anything negative about you

• Definitely the bragging type. He'll put you on a pedestal and go on about how gorgeous you are. How you were crafted by gods, and so on. He thinks he's better than everyone else so if you're with him, than you're right up there with him.

[lucvly]

— christmas headcannons with chris. ⸰ 𖥔 ͙

warnings: fluff, cursing, mentions of sex, not proofread as always.

a/n: this is soo self indulgent help !! i love christmas fr.

— he’ll act like he literally doesn’t give a shit about christmas but on december 1 he’s already staying up late thinking about what he’s gonna give you.

— i don’t even wanna hear discourse about this but this man acts like a child around the holidays. he’ll enjoy december like he’s a 10 year old child who still thinks santa’s real.

— my man is quick to hang up those lights. it’ll deadass be mid november and he’s already asking you when you’re gonna decorate because he wants to help you.

— gingerbread house making is a must. he loves it. you do it at least three times in december because it’s by far one of his favorite traditions. of course he ends up building something that doesn’t look nearly close to a house but A for effort.

— you get matching ugly sweaters obviously. it’s your job to get them every year, and they progressively get worse. chris always complains about how itchy they are LMFAOO.

— baking christmas cookies with him is such a chore for real. you can’t even let him open the flour because it either ends up all on the floor, or on your face. don’t even ask him how to preheat the oven because those cookies will end up burnt.

— most times you have to make three or four batches of cookies because the first batch turns out awful, the second one: burnt.

— once your relationship gets really serious, you two make christmas cards and send them to your close family and relatives. it’s corny, sure, but you both love doing it.

— once every year, you go with him and his brothers for a late night drive just to see how people decorated around the neighborhood. chris always ends up falling asleep on your shoulder in the backseat while nick is yelling about how the lights should’ve been hung higher or how the reindeer is out of place.

— you best believe you’re writing letters to santa. it’s unserious but chris loves doing it, especially because he gets to write something along the lines of: “santa, all i want for christmas is my girlfriend under the tree. thx. — C” LMFAOOAOA sorry.

— you’re absolutely making matching ornaments. they have your initials on them it’s adorable. though decorating them is painful as hell because chris always ends up throwing glitter at you.

— takes elf on the shelf so serious like calm down!!! he better not catch anyone laying a finger on that dumbass elf or he’ll go absolutely insane.

— going christmas shopping with him is adorable. he gets so excited over what to get his brothers and his parents AWW, and he also gets a present for trevor obviously.

— you are never gonna know what that man gets you for christmas. he hides it so well it surprises you each year to be honest. you’re out here thinking he didn’t even get you a present and he’s already packing up at least three.

— definitely an expensive gift type of boyfriend, i’m talking tiffany necklaces, chanel bags, dior, ysl. and he doesn’t even care because seeing you happy makes him 10 times happier. (“baby, you didn’t have to– oh my god.” “i know, but i wanted to. you deserve it.”)

— of course you also get him cute and expensive gifts but you could seriously give him a rock and he’d cherish it as if you just gave him a gold bar.

— you two will absolutely watch christmas movies together, especially romcoms. he loves christmas romcoms LMFAOO. he’s the type to complain about the main character idc.

— he hangs up a mistletoe on his door just so he can tease you and give you a kiss every time you walk into his room. (“look, mistletoe, you gotta kiss me.” “chris i swear to god.”)

— christmas dinners are hilarious bye. he’ll deadass be eating 3 or 4 plates with no shame at all. you’re staring at him in disbelief and he just looks at you with his mouth full like “😊”. at least he’s happy LMFAOO.

— he gives you at least three presents. the first one is marked “from: santa, to: y/n” obviously you know it’s him LMFAO he thinks it’s cute and you just leave him be. second one is marked “from: chris, to: his girlfriend.” as if he wasn’t the one marking up those presents BYE. third one is “from: the best boyfriend ever, to: the prettiest girl.” he’s so cute somebody sedate me !!

— one hundred percent asks nick and matt to figure out what you got him for christmas. you’ve figured this out over the years so you don’t even give them hints anymore LMAOO.

— the worst jokes over the holidays seriously. (“hold on. babe, which cooking seasoning is the most festive?” “chris–” “christmas thyme.”) he needs to be stopped lord have mercy.

— secretly loves decorating. he’ll decorate with you all day fr. ornaments, mistletoes, the tree in general is his favorite. he cannot deal with putting up lights though. it pisses him off so badly– (only because he ends up tangled in them).

— i just know he makes hot chocolate with water. nuh uh. you had to teach him the correct way (with milk) because it was seriously getting on your nerves LMAO.

— he gets so lovey dovey over the holidays. he’s also horny 24/7 but that’s completely besides the point HELP. hands around your waist, arm around your shoulder, hand holding, everything.

— matching pjs YUP. he loves matching christmas outfits with you LMAO especially pjs. y’all have like four matching pj sets every year it’s so cute.

[blueparadis]

❝ STRAWBERRY SKIES ❞ + RIN ITOSHI !

+. CWs —» sae itoshi x f!reader x rin itoshi, ( domestic ) fluff, angst, hurt & comfort, dating culture, hookups, implicit smut, unrequited feelings,acquaintances to lovers, slowburn; word count — 2.5k

+. PRECIS —» after an accidental encounter rin finds himself drawn to you while all sae wanted was to be apart from you.

+. NOTES —» no clue how i came up with this idea. All i wanted to do was to write on Sae ( lol ) ; hbd to me. i wanted to host an event which I'll but it's on hold for now. I don't want to burden myself and drive out of writing. happy reading fellas ! tap here to read my works.

“First time ?”Rin asked, eyes fixated on yours as his Adam apple bobbed, suggesting that you were not the only one who was barely able to keep your composure.

“Um-hm”, you hummed in response with a little nod breaking the eye contact that seemed to put a curve of delight along his lips.

“Yep. thought so.”, he supplied, “Well, mine too.”, he added, looking hopelessly at the burnt poached egg that refused to leave the frying pan no matter how much you tried. 

The younger Itoshi skillfully placed himself on the kitchen counter pushing aside the tray of such unevenly chopped vegetables near the sink. You kept the frying pan aside and headed towards the fridge to fetch a bottle of juice. “I told you to watch …

“I’ll watch the poach when you’re next to me?”, Rin blurted out, quite defensively as if he was not at any fault; part of him was astonished at how you expected him to do such a thing when you were roaming in the kitchen wearing shorts and his shirt.

Your lacy lavender bra was a great bother. God! How direly he craved to see you without his shirt!  Would you wear a matching pair? Actually, given your status and background, you seemed like you would do that.

“Yes. so that I learn how to cook and your brother stops yelling at me.”, you bluntly responded. “Ni-chan yells at her? How come? She seems so nice. Why though?”

It is true that Rin has been totally at fault for the burnt poached egg and those half-hearted chopped vegetables since he was never on board with this idea in the first place. He would rather order food and spend the time cuddling with you till the doorbell rings or touching you in ways that you mourn for him when he is not around. But his hands are tied.

After being in several relationships that ended in agony, most of them, you knew that Rin was not just trying to flirt. He wanted to impress you which is why you are here in his home after being followed by him like a lost puppy for half a month.

Not at some fancy restaurant and being the headline of the newspaper the very next day. It has been just two months since this thing between the two of you started; it is hard to describe. It is neither a relationship nor . . . ‘What do people call it again?’, a situationship. Yep, that was not the case either. 

It was a lavish party after a victory match when Rin walked up to you as you stood in the lonely balcony under the moon lit night. The breeze was cool , letting you reel in the feeling of being a little tipsy. 

“Mind a company?”,a bold familiar voice turned up and to that you turned on your heel finding a man in a finely tailored peak lapel suit holding two glasses in one hand and the other shoved inside the pockets. He was neatly dressed for a party like this, even for a man. 

With eyes like that, like emerald stones embedded as the stars across the sky to foretell your future, if you looked a little too long than usual, anyone would be smitten with him. Perhaps, this is what they call love at first sight. 

How could you deny him? Besides, he was one of the guests so you had to accept the drink even if you did not want to. 

“Okay.”, you took one of the glasses from him with a swing yet careful enough not to graze your fingers against his palm and immediately turned around resting your elbows on the railing. You had no intention of being another one in his list; of course, boys like that always had one, always. 

“You should not have drank that much…”, Rin stood beside you, swirling the wine in his glass. “... You could have avoided the party, you know…”, he took a sip, “... is it so hard for you to say no to people?” You rolled your tongue through the insides of your mouth before shifting your gaze on him. 

‘Stop it, you’re not my dad.’ With a chaste smile you muttered, “Thank you for the drink . . .”, tilting your head a little you amended, “. . . and the company.” 

Of course, Rin hated that you worked for his brother. You were not entirely sure if it was actually because of Sae or the fact that Sae took more interest in you than him. He reeked of envy but which one was it? If it were the first you could not help much and if it were the second, you were utterly screwed. Rin would find every opportunity to torment you and Sae would not pay any heed to his childish tantrums pushing his brother being more stubborn than he already is, determined to be a perpetual nuisance to you.

Rin did not know. He was not aware that Sae and you were just casual friends, more like acquaintances. Sure, Sae tried his luck with you many times but it was too friendly to bother about what ifs and buts. 

Besides, Sae knew you could be more useful as a friend than his girlfriend. You have made abundantly clear that you are not some trophy girlfriend that he can show off to people. He had tried all the tricks of old books to rile you up, to make you jealous, to get under your skin but eventually it came down to sharing secrets and beers, truth or dare.

“Can I walk you home?”

You halted on your tipsy steps and let out a sigh of disappointment. You just did not want to talk to him, like not at all, not in this mood. You turned your head and nodded in his direction. Rin swallowed, not sure what he would do next since he thought you would flatly decline. You could say NO but somewhere at the bottom of your heart you just wanted to know, ‘does Rin care like his brother? Would he give a fuck if it was the other way around?’ 

Rin was surprised that your home was not even in a proper walking distance. He thought he had to bear this awful silence while driving you home. The walk was just a floor away. “You didn’t know that you were partying under my roof, offering me a drink that’s quite a staple to me?”, you said followed by a little cackle to ease him. He was way too stiff for a man who has a list of girls in speed dial.

You walked out of the elevator and so did he. “Most of the buildings are owned by my father. I’m sure you’ve heard of him. Mikage corporations? Does that ring a bell?” A raised eyebrow that was all you received from him.A raised eyebrow that did not tell you whether it rang a bell or bounced off. You unbuckled the watch from your left wrist before uttering, “Are you staying for the show or. . . ?”

With that line, Rin could tell how much of a tease you are. Maybe that is why Sae liked having you around. Maybe that is why people feel comfortable around you. He has watched you along with brother plenty of times, sometimes in his apartment, at the airport, at markets but Rin never gave a damn about it until he watched his brother with another girl dancing merrily as you cheered them on, just a few days ago. It was a friendly gathering. He was intrigued; no not about you but what exactly was your relationship with him? 

“Maybe some other day.”Rin closed the gap between the two of you with a single step, his hand around your waist making you gasp a little at his sudden closeness. A blink and then you looked at him with surprise in your eyes before he swayed off his hand and stood as if he was at gunpoint saying, “I thought you were genuinely offering…” 

He backed away, relishing the surprised look on your face. Part of him wanted to take you then and there but another part of him was gentleman enough not to have you under the influence of alcohol. “See you at the next party.” Rin walked towards the elevator hoping for something, anything as a comeback. He was even willing to take one of those feeble low growls of protest but when he turned around you were not there anymore. 

Surprisingly, you did not have to wait till the next party. He was standing outside your office the very next day. With his hands inside his slacks and an umbrella at another hand. He was surfing through his phone as you watched him in awe. You waved at him as he looked at you. Even though the splattering raindrops were hitting the window you could hear him smirk as a curve of delight spread across his cheeks.

[ a message from angry bird itoshi

“Hi. Rin here ”

“I’m waiting till you’re done.” ]

You let out a laugh keeping your phone aside. Of course, he took his brother’s phone, went through his contacts and made sure to message you from his phone. No wonder Sae likes to avoid him.

[ “pick one: hot chocolate or ice-creams” ]

You did not reply for two reasons; one: Sae would not be very happy about this and two: Rin was just the type of guy who gets under the skin very easily, the type you would like to avoid the most.

Eyes as dark as a starless sky that spoke volumes if one were to stare too much yet so agonizingly silent. The kind of face that it hurts to look at yet so pretty, so full of hopes. Rin Itoshi was the kind they would write in poetries, and hide behind the canvas of an abstract painting. Dark-haired, pretty face, luscious lips, morbid eyes. Underneath this boyish façade was something some would not want to see.

Most people call it envy, but you would rather call it an outgrowth of wrath, a mere tantrum. He was just envious of his brother in every way he admired him, so much so that he chased everything that his brother did. 

He waited. He waited for two hours and when you were walking out of the office. It had already started raining.  The umbrella was too short for two people but both of you managed to reach the nearby cafeteria, half-drenched in rain and half -drenched in love.

Rin was patient with you even if you threw lots of tantrums to test him,to get rid of him but he stayed. Within a span of another two months, things became a little intimate, a bit physical and your first time was nothing like you imagined it would be.

Not because of the person, but because of the place. Rin had come to visit you in your office and he was told to wait. He did. He is used to it by now. Every time he waited for you, he felt like he was trying to hold sand in his hands. When he saw you walking towards the exit with bodyguards around, your mind to busy to acknowledge his presence, he didn't feel annoyed. 

But you shouldn't have made him wait so long, not back then and not even now. When you were done with your meeting, when he was finally able to talk to you after days, after a month of being away from you he didn't waste any time. He mourned you too much to be in his control.

And now he has you laying on the work surface, with one of your legs over his shoulder as he slowly thrusts in you. The curtains are not drawn, air conditioner is off and its afternoon, lunch break while Rin is balls deep inside you making you gasp with each of his strong calculative slow thrusts.

It's not okay. You and Rin did everything backward. Casually flirted, went on random dates, and fucked each other senselessly as if you two would not see each other for eons or have been reunited with your love in this life.

And he did all of these just to get to know you and you let him. You let him because you didn't want to be the woman to teach him about broken love. You did it because you couldn't hurt him. You did it because he didn't seem to be what they said about him, not a bit, or was it because he actually likes you.

Unlike him, you didn't have to wait long to have your answer, didn't have to spend sleepless nights thinking, is it really love or just a phase?

Now you are in his apartment wearing one of his shirts since your dress was ruined. Sae would be here in any minute. He gets so cranky if he doesn't get home-cooked meals.

“I’m back.” Sae tosses his bags onto the sofa and rushes towards the bathroom. This wasn't always the case; generally, he'd rest a bit, make sure to avoid his brother at all costs, and then go for a shower. Now that you are here, all he did was behave like a child.

“Ni-san, don't throw your bags like that…”, Rin exclaimed with congested eyebrows. “Ah geez! Stop it.”, he yelled when Sae was about to disorient the whole wardrobe for his favorite towel.

“Check the black bag while I'm in shower”, Sae said before vanishing into the bathroom. Rin knew he brought gifts. It's not like they aren't available here but it's the thought that matters, he remembered. You told him that once.

It's okay. Sae thinks as the hot shower warms his skin. Sae and you never belonged together. You and he always belonged to ‘almost and maybe’; maybe we could be something; she looked almost in love with me; maybe we were almost lovers.

It's okay. Sae has done a lot of things for you not to draw in your attention. He has dated girls, flaunted about it to you and mourned alone. He did it because he could never make you smile like his brother. He did it because you were not made for him; he knew it from the very beginning. He knew it all along that you were made for his brother.

It's okay, Sae thinks as he drags the chair and sits beside his brother shooting a smile at you with a sunburn in his heart, ready to enjoy the meal you have made. You have improved a lot since the last time. That is why he likes you; you heal whatever is broken. That is why he let you go.

Does he regret it? Nope. Since you are loved like you deserved and he got back what he sacrificed you for, his brother, Rin Itoshi.

@tokyometronetwork

tagging y'all cuz i think you might like this one @itoshi-s @orchid3a @swanphantasm @nyaaaaanma @saetoshis @shoyoist @anantaru @lalunanymph @chronic-claire-universe @garoujo @katasstrophy

[ddaz3d-and-cc0nfused]

༉‧₊˚. 𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐝 || 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝

— pairing: spencer reid x plus size seer!reader

— summary: cursed with the ability to see futuristic visions, you somehow manage to save spencer reid.

— warnings: mentions of dead pets, bloody noses, past seizures, and serial killers.

— wc: 1290

⋆ a/n: hello! okay so i understand that this is completely random and honestly it was a completed wip that was sitting in my drafts so i figured 'why not?' i'm not really pleased with the ending so if anyone would be interested in a part two or continuation, i wouldn't be against it!

masterlist | AO3

The first time you had a vision you were six playing in your mother’s garden, blissfully running through the overgrowths of plants and vegetation before you dropped to the ground like a bag of rocks.

You don’t remember much aside from the scene that played behind your eyes, like a burnt movie;  dark clouds, blurred yelling, and a puff of fur running out into the street. When you had come-to with a gasp, you were in the hospital.

Apparently when you had fainted you started seizing, body shaking fiercely as blood pooled from your nose. The MRI scans showed that your brain was so healthy it was like the seizure hadn't happened at all.

Sometimes your visions took a while to come to fruition, but when it did, they were never wrong. 

Your childhood dog had managed to weasel its way out from your backyard on that fateful cloudy day. You remember the way the warm wind whipped at your skin, that soon to be familiar feeling in your gut that told you that signaled the inevitable.

It was too late by the time the pet had taken off for the road, where it ended up fatally crushed beneath a moving truck.

You learned not to doubt your ability quickly.

They were triggered by small things, details of everyday life that weren't deeply thought about; like the color of someone's clothes or a certain smell or sound. You knew it was a vision when your nose began to leak blood – which was very inconvenient seeing as though a majority of the time when you’d see things in public.

You'd come to learn that your eyes blur like fog for just a moment until you reconnect with your body. It was a freakish feeling and just downright annoying.

You didn't want to see these things, you didn't want to feel responsible for saving people. It was a hassle, and it was a struggle that all but stole a piece of your soul when it happened. You were isolated and alone, and if that meant keeping others and your mental health safe, then you would just have to grin and bear it.

You just hadn't expected him.

The crosswalks were always somehow crowded in the mornings, a sigh wrenching its way through your lips as you brushed against people.

You were so disoriented when it happened, a single brush to the hand shut your brain down, that sickening feeling of guilt twisting through your nerves.

It was a peculiar scene, one that was dark and eerie, a lingering feeling of danger caught in between the notion that you were not supposed to be there. The house was abandoned and dark, their arms poised outwards like they were holding something. It was as if you were sharing the person's point of view when you were shoved, landing on the ground with a gun pointed at your head.

It didn’t take a genius to guess what happened when your vision went dark. 

You were pulled back into reality with a gasp, a warmth trickling over your lip that was undoubtedly blood. Usually, you wouldn't chase after who the vision pertained to, long sacrificing responsibility, but there was something about it that was just… wrong. Like even your subconscious knowing that, that wasn’t how it was supposed to end for them.

Experiencing your visions took less and less time to register, barely a second had passed before your hand shot out to catch the wrist of the person.

It was connected to a man, a very beautiful man, a man that was now staring at you like you were fucking crazy.

“Ye– oh! Are you alright?!” The man asked in concern, the confusion in his brows dissipating into concern. “Yeah, I’m fine, it’s just… there’ll be a door.”

“A door?” “Yes, a door - fuck - just… just don’t go wherever you are going by yourself. There’s gonna be someone that’s gonna kill you, you need backup. A friend, partner, family, I don’t know just - just don’t go into scary creepy houses by yourself alright? You’re gonna get yourself hurt.”

The man’s mind looked like it was traveling a mile a minute, but you didn’t wait. Releasing your grip on him, you all but shoved past him, digging into your messenger bag for your handy tissues, you found that the crimson liquid had begun to dribble down your chin.

So much for trying to be early.

Spencer’s whole week was thrown off by the random warning that he had received. Now, he’s spoken to many mentally disturbed individuals during his time with the BAU, but nothing has quite stuck with him the way your words did.

Maybe it was because you had looked so frantic when you had approached him, or maybe the fact that there was more blood on your face than what could be considered healthy. It was strange that he had found himself wanting to believe you, because in his line of work, going into scary creepy houses – as you put it – by himself was an incredibly bad idea. 

Spencer has never been the superstitious type; why would he be with the number of scientific discoveries and facts that completely debunked superstitious myths?

But there was something with the way that this scene was playing out in front of him that had struck him as odd.

Flown away to a city state, he and his team were called out to deal with an Unsub that had deluded himself into believing that he was the boogeyman. He killed in the night and lay dormant during the day, but he was accelerating enough that many victims hadn’t made it through the afternoon.

They cracked down on a house where he was determined to be, a decrepit thing that used to be the killer’s childhood home. His team were speaking about how to split up to investigate, and there was basically a boulder in his stomach that told him that that was an extremely bad idea.

“Guys, I don’t think splitting up is a smart idea.” Spencer had found himself interrupting despite the lump in his throat. “I think we should go in pairs; the house has no electricity, which means no light. It would be easy to be blindsided.”

Though Hotch had given him a contemplative look, he had agreed, pairing off the others, Spencer and Derek serving as a duo themselves.

He knew the situation was bad when Derek didn’t talk, creeping through the damp, mold ridden home on high alert. They split off for a moment before joining back together, stopping in front of what was a closed door.

“There’ll be a door… You need backup… Someone that’s gonna kill you…”

Your voice rings through his head like a hit gong.

“Morgan.” He murmured quietly as he approached. When he twisted the knob with the intent to throw it open, someone lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. He doesn’t writhe for long before the unsub is shot, Morgan apprehending the man.

Spencer usually isn’t this dazed after an experience like that, but there was something about this instance that told him that maybe - just maybe - this one had been too close of a call.

And the only thing he could find himself thinking about was how the fuck did you know about all of this? 

A part of him is unsure, cautious of the information that he had just used to basically save his life. You could have manipulated this, sure, but there were so many constantly changing and unexpected variables to this case that it would’ve made it damn near impossible to manipulate everything in your favor.

Which begs the question of who are you? (And how does he thank you?)

ೃ⁀➷ my lovely taglist!: @alina02 @louderfortheback @minervadashwood @their-love @fandomsarelifee @theendofthe70s @nomajdetective @mgg-theprettiestboy @phoenixblack89 @celtic-crossbow @hallecarey1 @bunnybabe-babydoll @dixonzzgirl @violettavirus @khxna

[xoxo-sarah]

Ms. Perfect

↝a/n: this is an old idea that I had in the back of my notes app. Oops.

↝pairing: Daryl Dixon x fem!reader

↝warning: death, widow!Reader, apocalypse, mean! Daryl, swearing, not proofread

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Daryl, or any character from The Walking Dead. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 4.23.24

Daryl wasn't sure why he hated you so much. You were nice to everyone around you, even understanding. But the sight of you makes the blood in his veins boil.

It became a routine; you and him sniping at each other, digging up trauma neither of you really wanted to. He just got under your skin. Like now.

“Sorry, in case you haven' noticed, the world ain't all rainbows and sunshine anymore. We don't shit money to buy the newest thing. Life is different, Doll. Get used to it.” He drawled, his eyebrows scrunched together.

There he goes again.

You weren't even talking to or about him, but he had heard you. That had been enough for him to butt in, apparently.

Ever since you had stumbled your way into Daryl's group early on, Daryl had had it out for you. At the creek, he would be pointing out how your hair had to have been done recently. Your jewelry, clothes, how smooth your skin looked from the expensive moisturizers and night creams you had to use, your newly manicured nails- ignoring the dirt and blood underneath-, and the shine in your eyes. You didn't have the shine at first, but when you would hang out with Carol, you would smile, and the recent glazed look was gone.

Your eyes shone brightly like the stars in the countryside. Not that you would know. You probably never had the chance to see how bright the stars shone in the city.

You were unbothered by the people at the campsite, keeping to yourself. You didn't have to worry about anything when the world was built for your liking and convenience.

Daryl despised you and that god-awful rock on your finger that could feed him for probably 6 months to a year. He glared at the ring every chance he got—so much so that you eventually yanked it off, throwing it in the murky pond.

Even after leaving the campsite, you stayed with the group, arguing with Daryl along the way.

“I get it, you're used to having people do everything for you, but we're not always going to be with you, Princess. Sorry life now is so much different from your perfect life before.” For a quiet guy, he always had so much to say to you. All negative.

You bit your cheek, glancing from Maggie—who you were originally talking to—to the dirty man in front of you. "Yeah-I had the perfect life. I had the fiancé that I couldn't wait to marry. I had the apartment that I had the luxury to design with my mother, gushing about the difference wallpapers." You smiled at the memory. Your mother had been so happy for you. "I had the fluffy dog that had its own room. I had the dad who would always talk about playing catch with his future grandchild. I had the money where I didn't have to worry about anything in life." You didn't falter as you felt behind your eyes begin to burn. " I did, alright? I had the life that almost every little girl dreams about. But it was yanked out of my hands, like everyone else's. One day, I didn't wake up to my fiancé kissing me, or the smell of burnt toast-- cause he didn't know how to cook. I woke up to him nowhere in sight. Instead, I heard yelling outside the door, car horns honking outside of the windows. When I opened the door, I saw my neighbors with white eyes, growling and clawing at the skin of the man I was going to marry and grow old with. His screams will haunt me 'til the day I die. But you will not ever hear me feeling bad for myself. I did have the perfect life, but that doesn't matter now. So, get over -yourself-, cause I am just trying to survive just like you."

Daryl watched your eyes gloss over, your nostrils flare. You were rightfully pissed. And right. He hadn't heard you weep for your past-- ever. You had jumped right into survival mode as soon as he laid eyes on you. You had held your own too- most people called you a badass, Daryl wouldn't let himself verbally agree. With that, you turned and walked away. Maggie shuffled awkwardly, glancing from you to Daryl. She wore a disappointed frown.

Weeks. You ignored his existence for weeks, 2 weeks to be exact. Everytime he would go up to you, you would walk away. Even if you were in the middle to a conversation. The person you were talking to wouldn't mind, really. They would've known about your bitter back-and-forth. They wouldn't think anything of it.

Daryl just wishes you would give him a chance to at least try to apologize. After you had let your walls down and told him about what the end of the world was like for you, he felt bad - pathetic, even. He was so jealous about how you lived before the outbreak, he didn't care about how it had affected you. He should've.

The moonlight led him towards your house, his hands fidgeting. The streets were silent, everyone already in bed. He hadn't been able to sleep. The thought of you kept him up in a different way than before.

His knuckles hovered over your door. You had to be in bed. Was it worth it? You would probably be too tired to yell at him. He knocked.

It took a minute for the door to open. You stood, rubbing sleep from your eyes, a sleep frown on your face. At the sight in front of you, your hand dropped, your sleepy eyes immediately rolling in annoyance. "Oh my god-" You tried to close the door, but his boot caught it before it could close all the way. "Move your foot, Dixon."

"Listen." His eyes were pleading, something you weren't used to. You kept the door open when he reluctantly moved his boot. " 'm sorry."

You scoffed, Sure, you are."

" 'm serious. " He looked at the floor as he brought his hand up, turning it and showing his hand. "Not sure why I kept it." At the sight of your ring, tears bordered your eyes. Your head pressed against the side of the door as your body shook with a silent sob. Daryl didn't look at you. He let you grieve for whatever you wanted to in that moment. He let you have that moment. After your sobs died down, his calloused hand took yours, opening your hand and dropping the ring into your palm.

"You're a dick." You hiccupped.

"I know." 

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[spacebarbarianweird]

Would you do some headcanons for Astarion/a Druid Tav, I know druids are supposed to be opposed to the undead on principal, and I dunno, just want to see people dealing that.

It turned out a bit long and bittersweeet and, I hope, you will enjoy it! Tav \ Reader is a Forest Circle Druid since it's the most popular one.

Astarion x Druid!Tav

Masterlist

Headcanons

You're complete opposites, even if you don't take into account the fact that he is undead.

Astarion has always been a city person, someone who feels comfortable in bustling, busy places.

Even after 200 years of torments, he is still ready to live in his favorite city, Baldur's Gate.

But you are a child of nature, born in a small village and raised by the Druids of the Forest Circle.

You love and respect nature in all its forms: animals, plants, trees, insects…

You can sleep in the dirt and feel comfortable under the starry skies.

All materialistic things make you feel sick. Meanwhile, Astarion craves them as repayment for 200 years of the most pathetic existence.

Moreover, Druids aren't really of the Undead.

The Undead desecrate nature and all your spells hurt Astarion, reminding him he will never be truly alive.

You try not to think about the future. Who knows if you even manage to survive.

But then, it's over. You are alive. The nasty astral thing in your head disappears, and you want just to wash it all from yourself and disappear into your beloved woods.

Astarion cries in pain as the sun burns him alive. He runs away and disappears in the shadows.

You look for him, in daylight and at night, but he is gone. What if he is dead? What if he burnt to death?

After a few days, you finally decide to leave the city and return home. With a broken heart.

Only to wake up at your small camp by soft steps.

You yell at Astarion. You curse him. You even cast a druidic spell that hurts him a bit.

"How could he? Why? So everyone was right about the undead; they are cruel after all."

Astarion apologizes. He was embarrassed and scared. He decided you would never want to have him by your side.

"You are a Druid, my love. You are supposed to hate the undead. I will desecrate whatever you hold dear. I just wanted to say goodbye."

And he looks like a miserable stray cat, saying this.

"I was a Druid when I met you. I was a Druid when I let you have sex with me. I was a Druid when I accepted your darkness. Nature is about a choice. You choose not to be evil. I choose you."

He is still hesitant. "It's not like you would allow me to murder animals."

"Would I forbid a wolf from eating a deer? Would I condemn a falcon for feeding its fledglings? You are a predator, Astarion, so be one. Just don't take more than you need."

You travel through Faerun—Astarion might not admit it, but he misses nature; he craves it.

He wants to enjoy the fresh air and green scenery, far from dirty city streets.

Astarion loves stargazing. You teach him to use stars to find the way in the woods.

You also teach him basic survival skills: how to build a fire, and how to find shelter. He is a good student and soon does all these things even better than you.

There is also something changing about him.

Astarion's obsession with his looks has always come from his vulnerability and lack of body control. His face and body were the only things Cazador didn't take from him.

But nature… nature has a different beauty.

Suddenly, you notice Astarion doesn't freak out if he scratches his perfect skin or breaks a nail.

He is okay wearing simple clothes even if they are a bit dirty or ripped.

He stops asking if his hair looks good, and, some days, he resembles a Feywild, not a High Elf.

First, you worry it's a sign of a soul illness, fatigue, and mental tiredness.

But, no. He is happy. He enjoys walking barefoot on grass or climbing up trees.

One day, he admits to you that he can't be happy in the cities. They will always remind him of his death, revival, and slavery. But the woods mean freedom.

But it doesn't mean he doesn't struggle. Nightmares, panic attacks—name it yourself.

He screams. He cries as if he is being tortured at the very moment.

"No one will hear you here, my love. Cry and scream as loud as you need. Cry away all the pain you've stored in your heart."

And he does. He yells. He howls like a wounded animal. Letting himself express everything he couldn't before.

It's a way of healing.

If you notice he is anxious or depressed, you make the drink for yourself, and then, when you feel the effect, let him drink from you.

You teach him to hunt.

You kill a deer. You eat the meat, he drinks the blood. Together you bury every single bone in the ground so the animals can find the path to their next lives.

There is another perk you have. You know how to polymorph.

You constantly take the form of a falcon, a wolf, or a cat. Other forms don't feel natural to you.

Astarion especially likes your cat form—a red feline with a fluffy tail.

"Oh darling, you are the most adorable little cat."

One of the issues he still has is a fear of touches. It's mostly okay. You sleep together, cuddling each other (almost always naked).

You have sex, loud and wild, not caring about being noticed.

But sometimes he just can't let you touch him. Touches are a pain; intimacy becomes torture.

He tries to force himself, but it always ends up bad.

So when you notice he is like that, you polymorph into the cat.

You crawl on his lap and start purring.

He strokes your fur and ears, pressing you tight to his chest as if you were a plushie.

You just adore being held like that.

In daylight, he stays inside the tent while you look around. Once, he notices you stand in the center of the beautiful meadow—while he, as usual, hides in the tent.

He can't take his eyes from you—you smile, opening your arms wide.

And then, suddenly, you put off your tunic, drop it onto the ground, and start dancing.

Absolutely naked.

There is nothing sexual about it—but something very wild instead.

You dance to the music you are the only one who can hear—as if praying to the sun and to the woods.

You are free. You are wild. You are part of nature.

He looks at you in awe as if seeing you for the first time.

After sunset, he dances with you the same way—naked in the moonlight.

He knows you will always be with him. Even when your time comes.

When it happens, he will bury you in the roots of an oak, giving you back to nature.

Your body will become grass and flowers, and, wherever he goes, he will know you follow him.

And when he decides it's enough, he will undress and dance till the morning comes.

He will face the sunlight one last time and turn into ashes, that will be scattered on the wind.

--

Tag list

@tugoslovenka @marcynomercy @wintersire @vixstarria @not-so-lost-after-all @ashiro20 @theearthsfinalconfession @herstxrgirl @starlight-ipomoea @micropoe10 @astarion-imagine-archive @veillsar @elora-the-slutty-songstress @fayeriess @lumienyx @astarion-beloved @tallymonster @caitlincat-95 @tragedybunny @valeprati

[deathmetalunicorn1]

can i ask for some headcannons or maybe like a oneshot of strawhats or the whitebeard pirates with a fem crew mate whos a drider???

drider:

something similar to that design and like she would fight with webs using them to crontol people like doffy does with his strings js on a lesser scale! also really tall pretty pls🙏💋

HAVE A NICE DAY/NIGHT/WTV🫶🫶

Originally I was going to do the Straw Hats but remembered that Sanji and Nami are scared of spiders lol.

And the moment I saw this request I could only think of one drider/Arachne!! Rachnera!!

-Whitebeard’s crew was full of dangerous and well-known fighters and members, both with Devil Fruit abilities and ones with natural abilities- making for a melting pot of a very dangerous combination against their enemies.

-You were no exception, after Whitebeard found you many years ago on the deserted island you called your home, and while at first many of your new crew mates were terrified of you, seeing a drider or an Arachne as some called you by- they grew used to you and your shenanigans.

-That being said, you always got to have your fun when new crew mates joined the crew, you loved teasing others, seeing others looking half terrified half aroused by you- as you were quite stunning, and you used that to your advantage~~

-Ace was the newest member and when you scaled down your thin wire, descending upon him from above, his scream made you grin as he turned white in shock, fainting on the spot before the whole ship burst into laughter.

-When Ace popped back up, he went to yell at you before you turned and he froze, he couldn’t yell at a lady~~

-You quickly saw this and approached, your clawed hand coming to cup his face, cooing softly at him, “Ooh~ a chivalrous man- even to a monster such as myself~ I think we need to keep you~” Ace was so flustered by your words and being so close that you couldn’t help but lick your lips in delight- you loved shy boys the most- they were so fun to pick on.

-You learned that Ace was dangerous, just as any of the rest of you were, with his fire abilities, as fire was one of the few things that could severe your threads, which were like iron, as you couldn’t handle extreme heat well.

-Ace was careful around you, not wanting you to get burnt, which always led to you pulling him into your arms, hugging him close while he was red faced, trying to get away from you- flustered by your affections.

-Ace knew that you were strong, as you could take down whole marine ships on your own, just using your dangerous threads, but you were also quite intimidating when you wanted to be.

-When you were on an island, getting supplies alongside Marco, Ace, and Thatch, someone threw a stone at you, which you caught easily as they called out a monster. Other villagers looked scared of you as well, as they had never seem someone like you before, but as you grabbed his man’s face, your eyes turning red as you bared your fangs, threatening him, he quickly fainted, and you dropped him while your ‘brothers’ were defending you.

-You always told them you didn’t need it, as you were used to it- you were used to others being scared of you, something that upset your brothers when you told them this.

-You froze when a child ran over, hugging one of your legs and instantly you were surrounded by other children, as you all came to realize the man you took care of was someone who recently arrived and was threatening this little village with violence, and you just saved them.

-Ace couldn’t hide the shit-eating grin on his face, seeing you looking away with a shy blush on your face, as you were shy with praise like this from others, especially kids.

-When Whitebeard got back to the ship he couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the three men wrapped in your silk in cocoons, only their heads visible, upside down while everyone else was laughing at them while you were up in the crow’s nest, pouting lightly from embarrassment.

-You were a unique member of a unique crew, but they all treated you like family, they were protective of you, and you were protective of them, but if they pissed you off, they were put into timeout like those three- you had a reputation after all!

[joehawke]

idk why this just popped into my head, but thinking about Steve who’s actually insanely smart, he always got straight A’s in school and the whole “dumb jock” was just a stereotype that Steve got stuck under and just never tried to prove wrong. Who cared whether or not he was actually smart? So he just played along. (Besides, it was an in to flirt with the girls; to pretend like he didn’t know what he was doing.) His parents had him tutored since he was old enough to count on his fingers, and sure it was exhausting, but it was something he was good at. Math, reading, science, it all came easy to him. He liked being able to impress the people around him. When he got involved with the upside down, the one thing that didn’t crumble around him was his studies. He was determined to make his parents proud. When it was time to send out all his college applications, his parents hadn’t returned home in months and by the time he heard back from the schools the upside down was worse than it’s ever been and it just wasn’t a concern anymore. So Steve stuffed the enveloped futures away. He had completely forgot about them. Until now.

It’s been a month since Hawkins cracked open. Max and Eddie both have been discharged from the hospital, on strict rehabilitation protocols. Because Wayne still had to work despite the government hush money, Steve decided it was best for Eddie to stay with him. Besides, the house is quiet and lonely, why not put it to good use? Steve had been downstairs frying eggs on a pan when Eddie came bounding around the corner clutching a stack of opened envelopes. He looked confused.

“What’s wrong Eds? What are those?” Steve asked, and when Eddie started rifling through the envelopes Steve caught the slightest sight of his school symbols. His heart dropped. “Eddie it’s not -“

“Harvard, Princeton, Yale, Columbia -“ Eddie starts naming off as he rifles through each envelope.

“Eddie.”

“You got into them all Steve. There’s like 10 different top notch schools here that you got into. Why has no one heard about this? And why are they stuffed in a drawer?”

“Because I’m not going” Steve says simply, like it was the easiest decision to make.

“What? What the fuck do you mean you’re not going?” Eddie asks appalled. And Steve gets why, he does, but he’s also determined to stand his ground.

“Why does it matter? I’m not going” Steve pouts, crossing his arms.

“Stevie. Did your parents pay for you to get in or something? Did they use the Harrington name you hate so much? There’s gotta be a reason you won’t go besides just being a stubborn asshole” and Steve gets why he‘a asking, and he’s never been hurt by it, but part of Steve flinches at the fact that Eddie couldn’t believe that Steve got in on his own account.

“No. It doesn’t matter, can we just drop it?”

“No. No we can’t. Do you know how badly I would KILL to get into any school, let alone an IVY. This is incredible Steve.” Eddie states, padding closer into the kitchen and Steve has to hold back a laugh at his rabbit slippers.

“I can’t go” Steve says quietly, turning away from Eddie and back to the stove where the eggs are starting to burn.

“Why though? Can you tell me that much?” Eddie asks, matching Steve’s soft tone.

“Because I have to be here. I have to be here incase Vecna isn’t really gone. Incase the kids need me. Incase Robin needs me. I can’t just leave…” Steve says, turning back towards Eddie to look at him before turning back towards the burnt eggs.

“Stevie. They’ll be fine. When are you gonna put yourself first sweetheart? I need a valid reason why you’re staying and I’ll drop it, because these aren’t -“

“Because you’re here!” Steve yells, turning back towards Eddie. Steve watches as Eddie’s lips part ever so slightly as his breath hitches before he continues. “When I got accepted into those schools the people who I did that for weren’t here anymore and fucking Henry Creel apparently was more prominent than ever, and the kids needed someone to take a hit and someone to protect them and Robin was here and she was the first person to care about me and what would that say about me if I left? And eventually those stupid schools were the furthest thing from my mind and then I thought about maybe going, maybe getting away from this hell… you came along and I couldn’t. I couldn’t leave you Eddie. With the regards of sounding cheesy, you carved a spot into my heart along side those bat bites and how was I supposed to just let you go after that?” Steve’s out of breath, and tears are starting to gather at his waterline, but he doesn’t care because Eddie is looking at him like he hung the sun and the moon and the stars and he remembers why he stays. And when Eddie’s lips collide with his own, he thinks he found home.

“We’re not done talking about this” Eddie says, and Steve chuckles as Eddie dives back in.