#googled this last night watching the finale because my friend asked me

[saint-soap]

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[ellephlox]

Solidarity

Summary: Frank enlists your help on a dangerous mission. Matt’s not happy about it.

Pairings: Matt x f!reader, platonic Frank Castle & f!reader, platonic Matt & Frank

Warning: Strong profanity (looking at you, Frank). Canon-typical violence. There’s also dog abuse in this, so please proceed with caution!

“You will not believe how terrible my day was.” You were already complaining aloud as you started up the stairs to Matt’s apartment, perfectly aware that he’d be able to hear you. “My boss gave me triple the amount of work that’s humanly possible to complete within a month and somehow he expects me to do it within a week. And then he had the audacity to tell me that I shouldn’t wear my hair in a ponytail because it’s ‘too informal’ for the face of the company. I mean, what the hell does that even mean?”

One of Matt’s neighbors opened their apartment door as you marched up the steps, and you quickly lifted your phone to your ear as though you were talking to someone, lest they think you were just talking to yourself. “And then my coworker took my data — you know, all that stuff I had been inputting onto that Google Doc the other day? And he presented it as his own, no credit to me. I can’t even report him because he’s supposed to retire in a week so it’s pointless anyway.” 

You continued to gripe as you unlocked the door, chucking your keys down and tossing your shoes off so violently that they hit the wall. “Anyway, I’m in a bad mood now, so I have two propositions — well, demands, I guess — for you. One: We watch Jeopardy tonight. In pajamas. I will object if you’re still wearing a tie.” You unzipped your coat and tossed it haphazardly onto the coat rack. “Two: My friend asked if we’ve ever showered together before — you know, typical girl talk questions — and I told her we hadn’t, so I was thinking—” You stopped dead as you entered the living room, your stomach plummeting. Leaning on the wall by the window, arms crossed, was Matt, wearing his devil suit, complete with the helmet on and his billy clubs dangling in his hands. And across from him, standing with an actual gun in his hand, was Frank Castle. Mortification sent heat into your face, and for a moment you just stood there, at a loss for words. 

“We have company,” Matt said dryly, uncrossing his arms and standing up straight.

“I can see that,” you said finally. “You didn’t think to... I don’t know, shoot a text warning me?” Your cheeks were searing; had you seriously just proposed showering with Matt in front of the Punisher, of all people? 

“I was a bit preoccupied all day with making sure Trigger Happy over here didn’t shoot anyone,” Matt said, his jaw tense. 

Frank snorted. “Red, you’d be bleeding out in an alley if I hadn’t saved your ass. Get off your high horse.”

“Yeah. Okay. But you couldn’t have said something, anything at all, when I walked in?  Like, ‘Hey, honey, there’s a wanted fugitive standing in our living room, just so you know.’ Sorry, Mr. Castle,” you added in an undertone to him. “Um — I’m not trying to make you feel unwelcome or anything, I just feel a bit awkward about earlier, so—”

“Doesn’t matter,” Frank said shortly, his gaze still trained on Matt. “We gonna stand here with your girl watching us and argue all afternoon? Or are we going to get this done?”

“Get what done?” you asked.

It was Frank who answered, and from the way Matt was standing with his back straight as a ruler now, you had the sense he wasn’t pleased, for whatever reason. “There’s a shipment of heroin that’s supposed to arrive tonight. The dealers have been selling to kids on the street to make a quick buck.”

“It’s due to come in at midnight,” Matt said. “But the source I talked to last night doesn’t know which dock.”

You made of sound of sympathy. “I take it you’ll be having to sweep a lot of territory tonight, then?”

“That’s a damn understatement,” Frank said. “We’re not just talking about the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, ma’am. We’re talking all the way down to Chelsea, and the piers in Brooklyn Heights.”

“But that’s impossible to scope out,” you said slowly. “Even if Matt’s standing in the center of all the docks in Hell’s Kitchen, he couldn’t possibly hear all the way down to Chelsea, let alone Brooklyn.”

“Which is why we’re in for a rough night,” Matt said. “I called Jessica, Luke, and Danny. They’re all out of town.” He jutted his chin at Frank. “And that’s why we’re here together.”

“I ain’t happy about it either,” Frank added. “He’s already talking my ass off about moral obligation and shit. Feels like I’m in church.”

"Because you tried to stab the guy in the throat after he gave us information we needed.”

“If you could see, Red, then you’d know from the look in that guy’s eyes that he planned on murdering us the second that we turned our backs on him—”

“Which is why I tied him up and left him for Mahoney.”

“I have a better idea,” you said, cutting in before anything could escalate. “I can help.” 

Matt’s response was immediate and scathing. “No.”

"Oh, come on — I get it if you want to do your whole ‘Fly home, Buddy, I work alone’ thing, but you’re not working alone, you’re working with the Punish— I mean, Mr. Castle. I’ll be supremely insulted forever if you don’t let me help.”

“If you think that I’ll let those dealers anywhere near you—” Matt began, but you interrupted again.

“Look, I’ve always waited here patiently and uselessly while you do your deviling every night, but can’t you give me a chance? Maybe we’ll be a dream team. Terrific trio. Second Edition Avengers. The Scooby gang minus a talking dog.”

“She could help, Red,” Frank said, sending an unreadable look in your direction. “I say we do it. She can camp out at Brooklyn. I mean, the guy said that they could dock there, but they never have before. Odds are they’ll be in Chelsea or Hell’s Kitchen.”

“So, what? We throw her to the wolves in Brooklyn where we can’t get to her easily if things go south?” Matt looked as though he were about two seconds from socking Frank in the jaw. Or worse, two seconds from handcuffing you to the apartment so that you wouldn’t leave. 

“No,” you said firmly. “Things won’t go south. Matt, I’m not going to... I don’t know, engage in a fight with them. I’m not a vigilante. I’ll just hide and keep an eye on the docks, then if they show up, I’ll call you.”

“I’ll stay in Chelsea,” Frank said. “I know you get all weird about the Kitchen, Red, so it’s all yours.”

Matt was standing stock still, grinding his teeth. Finally he ground out, “It’s too dangerous.”

“So is driving a car. So is crossing the street. And yet I’ve done both many, many times,” you said. “I’ll be completely fine. Why would dealers have any reason to go after a random passerby, even if they did see me? Which they won’t,” you added hurriedly. “Because I’ll stay safely out of sight.”

“Perfect.” Frank checked his watch. “I ain’t staying here while we twiddle our thumbs and wait for midnight to roll around. Give Y/N my burner number, Red.”

“I’d never have thought you’d do this, Frank,” Matt said, his voice low. “I thought you at least were on my side when it came to keeping people safe who—”

“Who are what?” you said sharply. “I might not have... superpowers, or, I don’t know, a weird bloodthirstiness — sorry again, Mr. Castle — but I can still help.”

“Call me Frank.” Frank leveled his gaze at you. “And cut the apologizing shit.”

“Uh. Okay.” You had to bite your tongue to keep from apologizing again.

And, somehow, you actually ended up on the mission. You took the C train down to Brooklyn Heights after enduring a very long and very dry lecture from Matt on how you were to stay out of sight no matter what and to call him should any boat arrive with men wearing ski masks. 

And, in all honesty, you weren’t nervous. The likelihood of the dealers showing up at your assigned docks was slim. And even if they did, you’d just have to make a quick phone call to both of them, and then camp out. Easy-peasy. 

You settled in on a wooden bench overlooking the piers, wishing you had worn more than your jacket. The temperature had dropped more than expected when the sun had set, and now you shivered slightly, the cold metal of a knife against your thigh. Just in case. 

How exactly you were actually out here, on a real mission, with Matt willingly letting you out of his protection, you weren’t sure. It was exhilarating, though. The city was dark, yet not really; it was aglow with the street lamps and headlights and apartment windows whose blinds hadn’t been closed yet. You scrunched up your legs to conserve body heat and regretted not bringing a blanket, too. And a pillow. That would’ve made the bench slightly less rock hard against your bottom. 

Seriously, how did Matt do this kind of thing every night? Fifteen minutes in and you were already missing the warmth of home. 

You glanced at the skyline. Somewhere, on the other side of those skyscrapers, Matt was waiting as well. Probably he wasn’t curled up on a bench like you were, though. It was more likely that he’d be stalking the rooftops, or pacing in the shadows. 

And then movement caught your eye, at just after 12:30 in the morning. You scrambled to your feet, squinting in the dark. It was a boat, fast approaching the pier just next to you. 

No way. Yeah, you were on lookout, but somehow you’d convinced yourself that the dealers wouldn’t actually show up on your end. You waited to call Frank and Matt, though, because in case it was a different boat, you didn’t want to raise a false alarm. You moved away from your bench and began walking leisurely down the pier, as though you were going for a nighttime stroll. All you needed to do was get a good glimpse of them, then you’d head up the street where you could watch from a safer spot. 

“In, out! Let’s go, let’s go, let’s go!” someone said, a bit loudly, from the deck of the ship. You swiveled your head to see him, and sure enough, he had a ski mask. Swiftly you pulled out your phone and fire off a quick text to both Matt and Frank. You were about to leave the pier altogether when a bark made you stop short. 

....A dog?

“Shut the bitch up!” one of the men snarled. “We get caught, then all the goods get seized.”

“She’s been fucking howling the whole way, what am I supposed to do?”

“Give her a piece of food.”

“What food? You ate the rest of it, man.”

“Can’t believe we’re bringing this dog anyway. Boss already has six bitches. Why does he need another?”

“She’s some special breed, or some shit, I don’t know. Sells for a thousand bucks a pop. Grab that box. Like I said — in, out. We’re already late.”

The dog kept barking, though, and you winced as the man kicked the poor thing in the ribs. Piece of shit. You wanted to go up there and throttle him yourself. If Matt or Frank would just get here already, then you’d be able to relax, but it would still be at least twenty minutes...

And what if the dealers got away in that time frame?

The dog started barking again, and suddenly, without any word of warning, one of the men picked the dog up like a sack of potatoes and threw her overboard. “To hell with the extra cash. That’s how you deal with security problems,” you heard him say as he wiped his hands on his pants. “Get moving, go, go, go! Unload this shit so we can get out of here!”

Below, the dog’s frantic head slipped below the surface.

Oh, hell no. 

Your feet were moving even before you could make an executive decision in your mind. The cold of the evening was forgotten, as were Matt’s strict words to not be seen, no matter what happens, and you dove into the water, where the dog had fell beneath the black waves beside the pier. 

Fortunately, it was summer, and as shockingly cold as the water was, it wasn’t anywhere near deathly cold. You couldn’t see anything, and desperately tried to listen for the dog, but you didn’t have Matt’s ears, and for a moment panic swelled inside you that this dog would drown, and you wouldn’t be able to do a thing. 

And then you saw movement, out of the corner of your eye. The dog was struggling to stay afloat, her snout barely making it out of the water. You grabbed her around the middle and kicked with all your might, coughing on water and unable to see hardly anything except for the blurry outline of the pier. There had to be a ladder somewhere along there, and you groped blindly along the edge, seeking out a grip to pull yourself and the dog up. 

For a moment, you completely forgot about the dealers behind you. All you could think about was getting the dog safely onto land, and with a massive effort you lifted her up. Her paws scrambled against the edge of the pier, but with a good shove to her rump, she was able to get over the edge and dash away into the shadows. 

Good luck out there, doggie. You started to climb the ladder yourself, but froze when you heard the telltale click of a gun being cocked in front of you. Slowly you looked up, your blood running cold at the sight of a gun pointed straight at your forehead. The man holding it had his hair tied back in a bun, and there was a horrible expression on his face that told you he wouldn’t have any qualms about pulling the trigger. 

“Should I shoot, boss?” he asked, his eyes not moving from your face. “Stupid girl’s seen us. She’ll probably run her mouth and tell the cops.”

Your brain felt as though it were short-circuiting. “I swear, I won’t tell a soul. You have my word. Really, I’ll just leave here, and I promise—”

“Do it!” one of the men shouted from the boat. “Get it done so you can get your ass back up here to help. You know how many bodies there are in the Upper Bay? She’ll just be another.”

Your heart was punching the inside of your rib cage. You considered falling backwards to try to swim away, but what good would it do? There was no other way to get back onto land nearby except for this ladder, and you didn’t trust yourself to swim around the boat and across to the next pier without simply getting shot en route. Lunging up the rest of the ladder to fight him was an even worse option. Even if you could fight like Matt (which you could safely say was not the case), you were at a disadvantage; he had the high ground. 

But you didn’t have a choice. The man lunged down and grabbed you by the collar of your jacket, hoisting you up onto the pier. You shivered violently, unsure of whether it was from fear or cold. The man looked you over. “Could hold her for ransom, Tom. That’d bring in some extra cash.”

“No.” The man, who must’ve been Tom, shook his head. “That’s just a surefire way to get attention from the cops. Let’s take her in. We’ll kill her once we’re back on open water and dump her body in the Atlantic. Much cleaner that way.”

The man holding you grunted in agreement and shoved you forward up the ramp to the boat. You obeyed only because of the gun pressed against your temple, feeling like you might vomit any second. 

Where are Matt and Frank? The night was as still as a reflecting pool. It was as though the city itself had gone to sleep, abandoning you to these men, and you had to choke down the rising lump in your throat that was making you feel like you might cry any second or pass out. But tears wouldn’t come, as you were led into a cabin, your mouth promptly duct-taped closed. The sensation made you panic even more — a little air could get through to your nose, but not much, and the sudden feeling of being near to asphyxiation made you even more light-headed. 

The men, however, seemed to forget about you as soon as they tied you to the chair. That they hadn’t killed you immediately was the most relieving of mercies, and you struggled fruitlessly to escape your bonds, feeling supremely useless. Surely Matt would arrive any second; he would hear exactly where you were, you reasoned, and he’d make his way to you as soon as he could. Any minute you’d hear the sound of a baton ricocheting off some unfortunate skulls or the cracking as bones shattered under his fists. 

But instead, it was bullets you heard first. Frank. You gritted your teeth, hearing the shouts of men that were surely being killed without a second thought. Hopping with your feet, you were able to wiggle your chair forward slightly until you could see outside the cabin door. Frank’s silhouette was a menacing shape against the moonlight. 

Where is Matt?

One of the largest men — Tom, you recalled — suddenly came barreling into the room, a gun in his hand. He untied you violently, yanking the rope so roughly against your wrists that you gasped under the tape, and then dragged you forward, the gun against your head. Unceremoniously you were toppled from the chair, your knees slamming down onto hard wood. 

“Drop your gun!” Tom jabbed his gun against your forehead so hard that you saw stars. “Drop it now and put your hands behind your head, or I’ll blow her brains out!”

Through your fuzzy vision you saw Frank freeze. His gaze was cold; calculating, and for the first time you wondered what your value was in Frank’s mind, compared to the triumph of offing some criminals. Which was worth more to him? For a moment, you feared he would prioritize killing the smugglers. His fist clenched even tighter around the gun, and he drew in level breaths, without lowering his gaze for even a second. 

“I swear to God I’m pulling this trigger in ten seconds if you don’t drop it,” Tom said, and he dragged the tip of the gun so that it was placed precisely against your temple. Water was still dripping from your clothing and goosebumps were raised so violently on your skin that you felt like you had chicken pox, but that was nothing compared to the electric adrenaline shooting down your spine, as though your nervous system was screaming at you to do something, anything, but it was to no avail; all you could do was stay on your knees, as still as possible, and keep your head lowered. 

And then, as though he’d made a snap decision, Frank set the gun down.

“Kick it over here,” Tom ordered. 

Frank obeyed, slowly raising his hands to his head. “The gun’s down,” he said. “Now let her go.”

Tom’s grip on you tightened. “You’re a fool,” he said, and suddenly you knew what was about to happen, from the steadying of his hands and the firmer press of the gun against your temple. You wrenched yourself away from him, just as the bullet fired off, and the heat of it barely grazed your shoulder as you dove away. 

The victory was short-lived, though. Tom aimed again, and this time you were on the ground, with nowhere to go. You screwed your eyes shut, sending a silent apology to Matt, and...

The bullet never came. 

Gingerly you opened your eyes to see the devil punching Tom with all his wrath and fury. Frank had already picked up his gun again and was running towards the back of the boat, where you knew there were still a few more crew members. Quickly you crawled backwards to get out of the path of Matt and Tom, the latter of whom was being thrown against the cabin wall. 

That had been close. Way, way too close. You fumbled for the duct tape and ripped it off your mouth, lightheaded from breathing irregularly. Stars formed in front of your vision and you had to slow yourself down, drawing in air and then releasing it slowly. 

Matt was still slamming his fist into the face of Tom, and blood was spurting everywhere. You squinted at them, your heart dropping — far too much blood was spraying out, and Matt was showing no signs of slowing down —

“It’s okay. You’ve got him,” you whispered, the words coming out of your mouth in a rasp. “Matt.”

Matt dropped Tom, who slid to the ground, unconscious. Using the edge of the boat to support yourself, you stood up slowly, and limped over to Matt; your knees were still aching from earlier. Gently you reached towards his shoulders. “I can call 911.”

“He deserves to die.”

“Maybe. Maybe not,” you said. Matt was in a dangerous anger, you could tell; one wrong move and he’d do something he’d regret for the rest of his life. Choosing the right words now was imperative. “A judge will decide that.”

“He tried to kill you,” Matt snapped, whirling around and knocking your arm off his shoulder. “If he had — if he’d succeeded—”

“But he didn’t.”

“Does that matter?”

You opened your mouth to respond, but Frank got there first. “Cool down, Red,” he said, as nonchalantly as though you were all at dinner together. “Your girl’s safe. We got the drugs before they could get shipped.”

“Don’t talk to me like I need to be calmed down,” Matt said, his voice hardly more than a snarl. 

Frank stared at Matt for a few moments. “Yeah,” he said quietly. “To answer your question. It does matter that he tried killing her.” Then, without warning, he shot Tom, square in the forehead. You yelped, looking away from the bloody hole where his head was now caved in. His features were unrecognizable, and hollow in death, and yet you couldn’t help looking back at him, his eyes meeting yours as though he still were alive. 

“Get her out of here. Warm her up,” Frank said, nodding at you. “I’ve got other business to do this evening.”

“Other business?” you asked, but Matt was reaching for you, skating his hands over your body. 

“Sorry,” you said lamely, shaking slightly from the adrenaline. “I sort of disobeyed the only rule.”

“You could have died.”

“But there was a dog, and I had to save it — they tossed the poor thing overboard. I couldn’t just sit by.”

And, to your surprise, Matt’s lips cracked into a small smile. Though you couldn’t see his eyes under the mask, you could feel his warmth. “Yeah. I know the feeling.”

Frank was gone already. Together, you and Matt exited the boat, and it took all of your willpower to not look back at the corpse. 

“So,” you said, taking Matt’s hand as you walked down the dark street together. The feeling of the duct tape was lingering on your mouth, and the way that you had been tied up — the gun against your head — and it was making your heart race. Even though Matt would see right through you (hear right through you?), you adopted a casual tone. “How was my audition? Can I officially be the Assistant Daredevil?”

“You’re deflecting.”

“I’m not deflecting. I’m just wondering if I passed some sort of test, and if you’ll let me join you now—”

“Sweetheart.” Matt stopped short and pulled you into the shadows between buildings. “You’re not fooling me.”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” Your mouth was dry. 

“That was intense. You don’t have to pretend it wasn’t. You could’ve died.” Matt’s voice shook a bit, and you were reminded that as terrifying as it was for you, it had probably been even worse for Matt. Because if you had died, and it was technically on his watch... yeah. That wouldn’t have gone over well. 

You cupped his face, and he leaned into it slightly. “Okay. I’m a bit freaked out. But I’m okay.”

“Who’s reassuring who, now?” he said after a moment, and that warm, small smile returned. He pulled you in closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly enough that you had to draw in a short breath. 

“Maybe...” Your voice came out in a whisper. “Maybe we both need it tonight.” 

A/N: Sorry for the slightly rushed ending but this was beginning to expand a bit too much and I didn’t want it to feel like it should have multiple chapters. Honestly, I wasn’t happy with this piece so it’s been sitting in my drafts for about a year now, but it’s been awhile since I posted a one shot, so... here we are.

Hope you all had a great day, thanks so much for reading! 

-Elle

[wildrangers]

Oh Captain, My Captain // Quinn Hughes

Word Count: 3.8K

Summary: Quinn's captaincy finally pushed me to write this story, which I've been thinking about forever but never actually nailed down. I just love neighbor stories. Hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: resolved angst (shocking, I know), mention of cheating (not Quinn), cursing

You knew that trying to get everything into your apartment in one-go was a bad idea. Now, you were struggling with your suitcases, backpack, and couple of boxes while fighting with your front door key. You blew out a breath, grateful for the coolness of the Vancouver air coming through the hallway windows.

“Can I give you a hand?” you heard a tentative voice ask from down the hall. You glanced over to see a dark-haired boy watching with a worried face.

“I don’t want to trouble you, I’ll figure it out” you responded, embarrassment flooding your system at how ridiculous you must look.

“You’re not bothering me, I offered” he replied making his way to your side. “Now, can I please take this box before you drop it?”

You chuckled at his comment, nodding your assent, “Thanks, I really appreciate it. I’m Y/N, by the way” you said, finally unlocking your front door.

“Quinn. Where do you want me to put this?”

You quickly led him inside, pointing down the hall to your bedroom. He set it down and returned to grab another box. “It’s really okay, I’ve got it from here.”

He paused in the doorway and scanned your frame, taking in what you assumed to be your now tangled hair, smeared makeup, and exhaustion, before shaking his head and grabbing a box. “I would worry about this all night, where does this one go?”

You sighed, finally accepting he wouldn’t be leaving until everything was in your new apartment, “Ummm that one’s the kitchen, I think.”

He nodded and you two fell into easy silence as the rest of your belongings made their way to their assigned rooms. By the end of it, you were annoyed to see that Quinn hadn’t broken a sweat while you felt like a drowned rat.

“How did you even manage to get all this into the elevator?” he asked, gratefully accepting the glass of water you offered him.

“I may have tipped the Uber driver 20 bucks to help me load it up” you admitted and he shook his head laughing quietly. “What?! I made the move alone and didn’t want to leave anything outside.”

“Fair enough. Where are you from?”

“Most recently LA but I figured if I’m up here half the time anyway, may as well try it out fulltime” you shrugged.

“You work in TV?” he questioned. Vancouver was known for having countless shows filming throughout the area at any given time, so it wasn’t a stretch he’d guessed your occupation correctly.

“Yup, I work as a script supervisor. I’m assuming you work in entertainment too?”

He nodded, gulping down the rest of his water before setting the glass back on your counter. “I’ll leave you to it, I’m two doors down on the left if you need anything.”

“Would you want to come over for dinner sometime soon? I want to thank you for helping me.”

“No thanks necessary, seriously.”

You shot him a look like the one he’d given you earlier which made him laugh and raise his hands in surrender, “Dinner sounds great.”

***

“Entertainment my ass” you mumbled to yourself angrily staring at your television screen. You were in-between shoots and were home more often than usual, leading you to mindlessly flip through channels for background noise before tidying up your place.  

Lo and behold, there was Quinn, giving a press conference about how overjoyed he was about becoming the new captain of the Vancouver Canucks. Quinn, who you’d been led to believe worked in the entertainment industry like you did. And while sports were technically part of the entertainment industry, he’d gone out of his way over the last year to ensure you didn’t realize the truth for some reason. Because, once the shock had processed, a quick Google search had provided more information than your friend ever had about his occupation.

You paused trying to process what you were feeling. On one hand, the joy and pride on his face was undeniable and you were happy for him. However, him seemingly misleading you for this long hurt. You sighed in frustration, glancing down at your phone to check the time, as you were expecting Quinn to come over later. As you contemplated what you’d say to him, your mind drifted to different moments you’d shared over the last year.

***

“I can’t believe you unpacked this quickly” Quinn commented, looking around your living room as you finished up in the kitchen.

“I sent my furniture ahead of me and packed minimally” you shrugged. “Most of my stuff is in storage in LA—once I’ve been here awhile, I’ll decide if I want to move everything here or head back.”

“What would make you go back?” he questioned, settling into a seat at the island.

“Mainly my boyfriend, Aaron” you sighed, thinking of your last conversation before your flight.

“He didn’t want to move with you?”

You shrugged, debating how much to share with someone who was basically a stranger. “We weren’t living together in LA so I thought it’d be a bad idea to move in together in an entirely new country where I wasn’t sure I wanted to be long-term anyway.”

He nodded thoughtfully as you set down the food, “This looks amazing, it’s been a while since I’ve had a home-cooked meal.”

“Not much of a cook or just the long hours?”

“Bit of both” he admitted before you both dug into the meal. Conversation flowed easily between you but, more importantly, the silences in-between felt comfortable. You’d always hated when people filled silences with meaningless fluff so you appreciated that he didn’t try to force conversation where it had naturally lulled.

 “Can I be honest with you?” you asked, drying the dishes Quinn had insisted on washing.

“I’d prefer it” he replied, turning to face you, noting the change in your tone.

“I’m worried Aaron and I aren’t going to last” you sighed thoughtfully. “He’d wanted to come with me and everything in me just screamed no at the suggestion. He said he understood but I don’t know how truthful he was.”

“Have you thought about why your gut said no?”

You reflected on his question as you put away the last of the silverware. “I don’t think he’s an overly forthright person. I don’t think he’s a compulsive liar or anything and I haven’t caught him doing anything, but you know when you just have that feeling someone’s hiding something? I have that all the time with him.”

“I’m sorry, that’s a shit way to feel in a relationship” he frowned slightly and you nodded your agreement. “Want to get some ice cream? That usually helps me when I’m trying to ignore my problems.”

***

Since then, dinner and ice cream had become your tradition. Because of your schedules, dinner may be at 11PM but it was refreshing to have a friend where that wasn’t an issue—hell, it was preferred by him sometimes. During that time, you’d fostered what you thought was a close friendship. But now, as you nervously waited for your doorbell to ring, you were desperately trying to figure out how you’d missed this piece of knowledge about him.

You hadn’t cared how he consistently changed the topic whenever you asked about his work. You’d just assumed he didn’t want to think about it off the clock and stopped inquiring. You had never paused to think he was hiding something. You were pulled from your thoughts by Quinn’s knock at the door. You took a deep breath before getting up to answer it.

“Y/N, hey! How was your day?”

“Uneventful, how about yours?” you asked, willing him to tell you the truth.

“Good, good” he replied, fidgeting with his hands. “Did you still want to hang tonight?”

You realized you hadn’t let him in the door, instead blocking his way with your frame when you normally dragged him in with a hug.

“I guess that’s up to you, captain” you replied, holding his gaze. The color left his face as he processed your words and took in your stony expression.

“Y/N, I…” he began but couldn’t finish. You nodded to yourself.

“I can assume today is a big day for you so I’m not going to get into just how upset I am. But really, Q? Misleading me? After seeing how much it hurt when Aaron did that to me?”

Guilt crossed his face, “I’m sorry, I just…”

You paused waiting for him to finish a thought but only silence met you. “Good night, Quinn.”

***

Quinn was still in shock moments after you’d gently closed the door in his face. If he was being honest, he deserved much worse. He ran his hands through his hair as he shuffled back to his place. Shit. He hadn’t even thought about how your split from Aaron would make his omissions even worse.

It had happened a couple months after you’d moved in. He’d been waiting for you to grab him on your way out the door for ice cream but your agreed upon time came and went. He’d worriedly made his way to your door after you failed to answer multiple texts and calls.

His stomach dropped when your puffy eyes greeted him. “Oh shit, Quinny, I’m sorry.”

Before he could tell you not to worry about it, more tears fell from your eyes. “Y/N, what’s wrong?” he asked, gently guiding you backwards into your apartment so he could close the door for privacy.

“Aaron and I broke up” you mumbled through your tears and he pulled you into a hug. He rubbed what he hoped were soothing circles on your back as your sniffles filled the room. It killed him to feel your shoulders shaking against his chest.

“Shhh, I’ve got you” he murmured a few times before you quieted against him. He moved a strand of hair out of your eyes when you pulled away from him. “What happened?”

“Well, I guess he resented that I didn’t want him to move here with me. And instead of just telling me that, he decided to start sleeping with someone else. The someone else he’d apparently already slept with fairly early on in our relationship before calling it off with her.”

“Holy shit, Y/N” he sighed, pulling you to him again. “I’m so sorry, what an asshole.”

“No, I should have noticed how much the move upset him or just let him come with me, I mean—”

“Don’t you dare” he said sternly. “You are not responsible for him being dishonest with you. And you were right to follow your gut and do this on your own—imagine learning he’d cheated on you while living together here? Or never finding out? Jesus Christ.”

A long silence filled the space as you processed what he said. “You’re right, this just sucks.”

“Would your favorite ice cream help?”

“I don’t feel up to going out right now, Q.”

“Let me get it for you. It’s nearly December in Vancouver, I think the cone will be okay for a few blocks” he pointed out and was relieved when it earned him a laugh and a nod. “You hang tight and I’ll be back soon.”

***

While you knew Quinn’s lies weren’t close to Aaron’s, it was pouring salt on the wound in a way that made you wildly upset. When Aaron had betrayed you, Quinn had been there to remind you with his presence and support that not all guys were like Aaron. That there were good men left and you shouldn’t settle for some asshole.

But for Quinn to have been hiding something this whole time? It hurt double—once for his deceit and twice for ripping open the Aaron scar. You’d spent most of last night moping but this morning when you awoke, that sadness had blessedly shifted into anger. Who the hell did he think he was? Had he seriously introduced you to his friends while they all knew you were being lied to? They must have known or else someone would have slipped up. And also, what the fuck? What a stupid thing to be lie about.

You were deep in one of these rage spirals when a knock rang out through your apartment. You threw the door open to see a nervous Quinn.

“Can I come in?”

Your only response was to open the door and make your way to the couch. A few seconds later, Quinn was seated across from you, seemingly willing you speak first with his eyes. But you’d be damned if you filled this silence, even if the discomfort between you stung.

“Y/N, I am so sorry.” You met his eyes and could see his sincerity but it wasn’t enough.

“Why would you purposefully mislead me about something so inconsequential?”

“Inconsequential? This is not unimportant.”

“Why would I give a fuck about you playing hockey? I literally work with famous people all the time and couldn’t give a shit!”

“It wasn’t that I thought you’d care, it was that I’d finally met someone in this city who didn’t know who I was before even meeting me.”

“What do you mean?”

He looked at you incredulously. “I know you’re not Canadian but you seriously never noticed how hockey obsessed this city is? How there’s Canucks shit everywhere?”

“I mean, I guess I never really thought about it and I still don’t understand why that’s a good reason to lie to me for the last year.”

“I’m not saying it was a good reason, I know I fucked up, okay?” his voice grew louder which made you raise an eyebrow at him. “Look, if you never want to talk to me again, I get it, okay? But please, just ask Petey or Brock what it’s like meeting people in this city so you can understand where I’m coming from.”

You scoffed, “You really think a good way to apologize and ‘make me understand’ is to remind me how all the mutual friends I met through you knew the entire time and just went along with it? That’s so fucking embarrassing! Everyone in on the joke but me.”

“This is not a joke, Y/N! God, all I wanted to do yesterday was share that moment with you. To have you in the crowd or at least be able to celebrate with you when I got home. And I know it’s my fault I couldn’t do that but fuck, it still sucked. And I didn’t know how to fix it. How do you say to someone ‘Hey I told what I thought was a white lie a year ago but I ended up falling in love with you along the way and now I don’t know how to own up to it?’”

His words hung heavy in the air but you had no idea how to respond. You had never allowed yourself to fully acknowledge that ever since New Year’s, your relationship had slowly been shifting from platonic to something more—because you hadn’t wanted to lose him. Now, you were losing him just as you were realizing he felt the same way. You shook your head before resting your face in your hands.

“Please say something” he begged softly.

“Q, I don’t know what to say. I can acknowledge in the grand scheme of life not being honest about what you do for a living isn’t earth shattering. But developing a relationship with someone over the course of a year, thinking you can trust that person because you know them inside and out, only to learn they were purposefully hiding something from you? Something that would have made absolutely no difference to you anyway? I don’t know how to respond to that.”

“Then tell me how to fix it.”

“Yesterday morning, I would have trusted you with my life. Now, I can’t listen to a word you say without thinking you’re lying. How do I know you’re being sincere about wishing you’d shared yesterday with me? About your feelings for me? You’re making me second guess everything when you were the one who helped me keep going after Aaron’s dishonesty.”

“I am not like Aaron.”

“No, Quinn, you’re not. Which is why this feels worse. Can you please just leave? I need time to process everything.”

You were grateful when he obliged and shut the door quietly behind him but it also broke your heart a little to watch him leave so easily.

***

 Your mind kept returning to Quinn’s New Year’s Eve party. You’d been single for a little over a month by then and were slowly starting to feel back to normal. While you enjoyed your time alone together, you were eager to meet Quinn’s friends and know more people in your new city. Petey loved movies so you two had been deep in conversation, really debate, about various films throughout the night. Brock had brought his dogs and you eagerly shared photos and stories of your family dogs back home with him. You hadn’t noticed that every time you asked someone how they knew Quinn, they replied with ‘work’ before quickly moving the conversation along.

What you had noticed was Quinn’s eyes on you all night. His hand on your lower back when he checked in on you throughout the party. How he had stocked up on your favorite snacks and drinks for the occasion. How as midnight approached, he moved closer and closer to you.

Until, as you all screamed the countdown from 10 to the New Year, he’d slipped his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side. How his dark blue eyes shone in the TV screen light when he turned to face you as the ball dropped. How he had grinned at you with such joy as he leaned down and placed the most delicate kiss to your cheek before whispering, “Happy New Year, Y/N, thanks for ringing it in with me.”

And you certainly had noticed the butterflies in your stomach at the thoughtful gesture, the sincerity of his words, and the intensity of his gaze as hope bloomed in your chest.

***

Could you stop by?

Quinn’s heart stopped when your message lit up his screen nearly a week after his captaincy announcement.

He’d quickly made his way to your door, following your voice that called him inside when he knocked. He found you in the kitchen, the early morning light hitting your face in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Hey” he breathed out, unsure where to stand.

“Hi” you replied, smiling shyly. “I’m glad you could come over.”

“You are?”

“I am” you confirmed chuckling quietly. “I guess I’ll start…I want you to know that it still really hurts that you misled me. I understand that you didn’t do it maliciously but it still felt really shitty to find out about.”

“I know and I’m sorry, if I could do it differently, I would. How can I prove that to you?”

“Well, you can be grateful your friends care so much about you.”

“Wait, what?” he replied, confused.

“Brock texted me the other day. He ended up sending me a screenshot of the messages you’d sent him that morning. It was really sweet” you smiled to yourself, pulling out your phone. You showed him the text thread but he already knew what you were referring to:

Congrats, brother!!!

Thanks, man. Wish you were here to celebrate

Celebrate with Y/N….oh wait, you’re an idiot and can’t, never mind

I know. I really fucked up and don’t know what to do. How do you fix something you built on dishonesty?

You apologize and tell her before she finds out some other way. Did you lie to her about anything else?

Of course not

Then it wasn’t built on lies. Just own up to the small piece that was

“At least one of us has a brain, right?” he joked and smiled when you rolled your eyes at him.

“You have a brain, doofus, you just overthink things until you may as well not have one.”

He felt himself blush at your statement, taken aback by how well you know him.

“So, I knew at least one thing you said was true—you knew you’d fucked up and didn’t know what to do about it. And your final response proves that everything else was as real as it felt at the time. As real as it feels now.”

His eyes rose hopefully at your words. “What are you saying?”

“I’m saying if you lie to me again, even about what color your underwear is, I will fucking destroy you, got it?”

“Yes, got it, I swear” he replied, tentatively moving towards you. You opened your arms and he gratefully pulled you to his chest, smoothing your hair down and gripping your waist.

He was debating if he had the balls to try and kiss you when you mumbled, “Will you close your eyes?”

“Ummm sure?” he responded, lips quirking into a smile as he did as requested. He heard you retreat to the refrigerator followed by a plate settling on your kitchen island.

“Okay one more second…now open!”

 On the table was a white cake with dark blue, Canucks colored lettering that read ‘Congrats, Captain Quinn! Love, Me’

“I know we couldn’t celebrate when it happened but I figured better late than never?” His eyes shot up at the worried tilt to your voice. He noticed you were fidgeting with your fingers, a dead giveaway you were as nervous as he felt. He walked closer, taking your anxious hands in his own.

“Thank you, this is amazing. I don’t deserve it, or you” he said sincerely.

“Well, that’s not for you to decide, is it?” you smiled and he couldn’t have stopped himself from leaning towards you if he tried.

He cupped your face as his lips tentatively met your own. He was surprised you were as timid as he was, so used to you taking charge. He gripped your hip with his other hand, pulling you flush against him, which drew a breathy sigh from your mouth that opened gloriously for him. Your tongues gently twined together as he felt your hands tangle in his hair. The kiss was slow and sweet but filled with so much promise it made his chest hurt.

He pulled away to rest his forehead against yours, “I’ve wanted to do that for so long” he admitted.

“Me too” you agreed, pulling his mouth back down to yours. His hands were surer this time as they slipped beneath your shirt to rub your lower back. You matched his confidence with your own, gently biting his lower lip before pulling away. “But I also really want to eat that cake.”

Well, there it is my first Quinn story! I hope y'all enjoyed and I welcome feedback 💕 We are so close to hockey season y'all!!

P.S. Yes, I wrote this as Aaron Rodgers busted his ankle last night, oops, thanks for the name inspo, I guess lol

[etherealyoungk]

a confession "will you be my valentine" w/ gyu

valentines day event | thank you for sending something in

mingyu's been crushing on your for a while now and with valentines day around the corner, he decides that it's the perfect time to finally confess his feelings to you. he'd spend the entire night googling cute things to do on valentines day, writings them all down messily on the piece of paper.

on valentines day, he'd dress his best, picking out a dashing outfit and styling his hair, wanting to look good for you. he'd text you a place to meet at him and on the way there he grips the steering wheel as he drives, the nerves eating away at him. he'd be having an internal war with himself because what if you don't like it? what if you said no? poor boy was overthinking but he'd once he saw you sitting outside at the café, all his thoughts melt away and the only thing on his mind is you.

he checks out his appearance one last time before grabbing the small boquet of flowers from the backseat of the car, when suddently he decides to maybe not give them to you now. he was getting really nervous all of a sudden.

"y/n!", mingyu says, catching you attention and the smile you give him makes his heart skip a beat. "hi!", you say, happy to see him. you were honestly in awe because of how good mingyu looked today and you had to admit, it made your heart beat a little faster.

he sits down opposite you and you guys order a few things to share and eat, making conversation. mingyu's mind keeps going back to the bouquet of flowers in his car. he wanted to give them to you but every time he wanted to say something, the nerves got to him. you'd think mingyu would be a confident man but in reality, he was a clumsy mess around you, which was so cutely contrasting to his boldness, height and physique.

mingyu tells you that he'll drop you home and when you sit in his car, you can't help but smell the sweet scent of the flowers. you look back and see the bouquet. you look back ahead and mingyu doesn't notice that you've seen the flowers. he drives and doesn't mention it, making you a bit disappointed. you really thought he'd ask you to be his valentine. so when he drops you in front of your house, you can't help but peek a look at those flowers once again, looking at mingyu again.

"are those flowers for someone special?", you finally ask, looking at him. he looks shocked of a second before gulping and trying to say something. his words come out in a fumble as he goes to retrieve the flowers.

he clears his throat before speaking. "you saw them?", he asks. "duh, the smell was intoxicating in the car", you reply. you watch as he looks at you. "they're pretty though, where'd you get them from? i wanna get some flowers for my friend-", "will you be valentine", mingyu says. you look at him. "shit that's not how it was supposed to go", mingyu mumbles, rubbing the back of his neck, nervous.

"i-y/n i really like you and i have for a while now. so i was wondering if you'd want to be my valentine", mingyu asks, holding out the flowers in your direction.

you look at mingyu and smile. "thought you'd never ask", you say, taking the flowers and mingyu is a confused baby but also happy. "you knew?", he asks. "yeah...i mean you make it pretty obvious when you're around me", you tell softly, making him get a bit shy.

"so you'll be my valentine?", he asks, looking at you eagerly. "i'd love to".

"im sorry...i should have asked you before i took you out for lunch today", he tells, feeling bad. "that's okay. wanna go to the flea market at the city center tonight?", he asks.

"is that a date?", he asks eagerly and you nod your head. mingyu is so so happy, joy radiating off his face.

[cheynovak]

Forest Green Eyes - PART 2  

Castiel & Y/N Winchester  

Warnings:  Bad family dynamic, over protected, abuse, bad language …  

Side note: English isn’t my first language.  

Words:  1816

This story takes place after the SPN finally. Jack asked Castiel to go back to earth to be the guardian angel of Y/N. Cas accepts this task but only to discover that Y/N is the biological child of Dean.  

 

Part 3 - link below  

----------------------- 

 

“Let’s go. I will take you away, anywhere you want. But not without clothes or a bag. You at least leave a note for your parents.” He tried to say firm.  

“Thanks Cas.” She said while hugging him. Here hair touched his chin and while their hug lasted longer than usual, he could have sworn that for a second... No that’s not possible!  

But as soon as she pulled back and he looked in Y/N’s Forest green eyes all he could see was hope, stubbornness and... Dean. 

“Castiel and Y/N drove quietly into the night. After the hug and leaving Texas, he and Y/N didn’t really spoke much. Y/N was clearly tired, so Castiel suggested to search for a motel to get some rest.  

When they arrived, the receptionist looked suspicious at the angel. “One Room?” he asked to confirm Castiel’s question looking back and forward between Y/N and Castiel. 

 Y/N started to get nervous. “Yes, two queens.” she said quickly.  

“Why did that man look so troubled?” The angel asked. “Probably because of the million years of age difference.” Y/N laughs.  

Y/N took a nice hot shower and went to bed while Castiel was watching the TV.  

“Hey Cas, would you mind telling me one of your stories?” When Y/N was a kid and had trouble sleeping would Castiel tell her biblical stories of the old heavens.  

“I’m pretty sure you’ve heard them all.”  

“Oh, come on Castiel, I’m sure there is more.” She said with puppy eyes.  

“Fine” He thought for a second, “Let me tell you about my friends, the Winchester brothers.” He said while sitting himself next to her on the bed. Y/N looked with glisters in her eyes while Cas talked about Sam and Dean. What they went through.  

Hours went by and Y/N not once interrupted Castiel’s story.  

She noticed that whenever he talked about Dean his eyes would light up or he would smile a little.  

That when he talks about the older Winchester’s troubles, he could still feel the pain.  

Castiel told Y/N what he did to protect Dean. “That’s the last time I got to see him. I’m not allowed to contact the dead in heaven.”  

“You really loved him. Didn’t you.” She asked the angel with tears in her eyes.  

Castiel could barely look her in the eyes, afraid to get lost in them. Ever since he truly looked at her last night, all he wanted to do was stare in them. It made him feel connected to Dean again.  

“I do.” He said. “You need to get some sleep.” He abruptly jumps of the bed.  

“Goodnight Cas.”  

“Goodnight, Kid.” 

The next morning, they had a quick breakfast at the diner. ”So where are we going now?”  

“Well after talking about Sam and Dean last night I thought I take you to the bunker? What do you think?” Said Castiel while he watched Y/N gobbles her food. “Wait, that still exists?” She asked without looking up from her plate. 

“I hope so! You really like food, don’t you?”  

She smiled and took the last bite. 

 

The ride in the car was again, silent, part from the radio playing Metallica. You turned it up and started to hum. Castiel couldn’t stop thinking about the similarities between you and the oldest Winchester brother, surely, he must see those signs because he misses Dean.  

A few miles on the road your car started to make weird noises, before either of you could have said anything, broke the car down. “Great.” Sight Castiel.  

“Well, looks like there is second-hand dealership nearby according to google.” Maybe they fix cars as well?” Y/N said with a positive attitude. “Just a short walking trip.”   

 The man who owned the dealership and his son, who wasn’t very much older than Y/N, perhaps a year or 2, told Cas that they normally don’t fix cars, except when they can sell them. But that if they want, his son would be more than happy to fix theirs for a small price, if they helped out.  

Y/N was happy to learn more about mechanics. She already knew the basics from the class she took in high school. But never got further than changing tiers and oil.  

At the end of that day, the owner of the shop offers Castiel and Y/N to stay for dinner before they hit the sack. Castiel accepted because he knew Y/N would be starving.  

He watched while Y/N and the son were talking and laughing. Even though he was glad that she got along with people her age. He couldn’t help to feel jealous. This was the first time in 10 years that she made a friend beside him. “Your daughter is very handy. My son told me that she pretty much fixed your car all by herself, all he had to do is tell her where to look.”  

Castiel’s focus shifts from de teenagers to the man. “Yes, yes she is. A born gift I guess.”  

 

Y/N looked over at her guardian, the two of them meet each other's eyes, again. And without a word he knew exactly what she is thinking. For the first time in her life, she was truly happy.  

Y/N’s lips curled into a smile like she agreed with his thoughts.  

After a few more hours Y/N and Castiel decided to hit the road again. Cas thanked the man and his son for their help and dinner. While Y/N and the kid exchanged phone numbers. 

 

The ride to the bunker wasn’t that far anymore. But Y/N managed to fall asleep right away.  

Castiel parked the car in front of the bunker and watched Y/N sleeping. He studied every outline on her face, every freckle, her full soft lips. “You know Cas, looking at people sleep like that is creepy.” Y/N smiled, slowly opening her eyes.  

“We’ve arrived. But I didn’t want to wake you.” He said softly.  

After a small house tour Castiel told Y/N to go to bed. “Let’s explore tomorrow.”  

Y/N gave Cas a small peck on his cheek and hugged him good night. “Thank you Castiel, for taking such good care of me. This was the best day I ever had.” 

The angel felt his cheeks turn red and his heart jumped almost out of his chest.  

Castiel wanted Y/N to finish high school, so they made an agreement. At least go to school until you graduate. So, she did. Not that it wasn’t easy being the new weird kid at 15. No friends apart from some loners like herself. They were supposed to at least join one P.E. activity beside school.  

So Y/N chose martial arts. Castiel thought that was a good way to being able to defend herself.  

Her grades weren’t spectacular, but she at least tried. Castiel not once had to go to school, so the town folks had no idea who her parent is. Only that her name was Y/N Novak daughter of Jimmy Novak. But because she mostly sticked to herself no one had questions.  

--  

The older Y/N got, the more Castiel saw characteristics compatible to Dean’s.  

She was 23 now, worked at a car dealer a town over. Drove and old red Chevy Chevelle. And yes, had a boyfriend, her colleague Steve. Not her first boyfriend. But the first she brought home. 

By now Castiel no longer pretended to be her father “Jimmy Novak” he now was here “roommate” Cas.  

 

Late at night and Cas heard Y/N and Steve argue. About how he thought it was weird that an “old man” was living with her. And the way he looked at her, was just creepy. And that he wanted her to come live with him.  

She declined his proposition a couple of times. Telling him that she would never abandon him after all he had done for her.  

Her arguments, the way she looked him dead in the eye pretending that this fight didn’t hurt her as much as it actually did. She took off to her room in anger and but before she turned around the corner, she told Steve to pack his stuff and leave. So, he did.  

 

Castiel made a list over the years with everything he could remember about Dean and compered them with Y/N.  

Green eyes? Check 

Light brown hair? Check 

Freckles? Check 

Anger issues? Check 

Trust Issues? Check 

Check, check, … Check. Why didn’t Jack told him? Why would that be such a bad thing? Maybe he didn’t know either?  

He couldn’t wrap his head around it, so the angel went for a walk. When he came back, Y/N was still in her room. The angel decided to make sure she was ok.  

“Y/N? Can I come in?”  

“Sure.” She rubbed a single tear away.  

“Are you ok?” “Yeah Cas, I'm great!” She rolled her eyes.  

He stood there not knowing what to do. When she was younger, he hugged her and told her everything would be ok. But maybe Steve was right, hanging out with an older man is weird. So, he wanted to respect her by keeping his distance, although every fibre in his body wanted to hold Y/N in his arms.  

“Well, if there is anything I can do, just let me know.” He turned towards the door.  

“Cas, wait, please. Can you, … I don’t know, stay with me tonight? I really don’t want to be alone now” 

“Are you sure? “  

“Yes, please?” That answer made his heartbeat faster, he felt this weird feeling in his stomach. And before he knew it, he sat beside her on the bed. “You can lay down if you want to. I trust you Cas”  

“Eh, yeah sure.” She immediately placed her head on his chest and her hand next to it holding on to his shirt. Castiel wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her just a tiny bit closer. He smelt her favorite shampoo, felt her warmth through his shirt. Why does this feel so right but wrong at the same time. His heart made jumps he never felt.  

He softly pressed a kiss on her head. She didn’t really responded part from a soft hum. She was already asleep.  

 

All Castiel could think of is how he wanted to hold her in his arms forever. How right this feels.  

It has been a long time since he felt these feelings. But is there a chance he feels this way because she reminds him of.... him?  

-------------------------------------------

If you liked this, please check out my masterlist for other stories.

[yaachtynoboat711]

Can We Talk?

A/N: Hey y’all! If I didn’t know any better, I’d suspect y’all really like Karis and Kevin, probably because we’re deprived of Kevin being happy on the show. School has been beating my ASS and had taken all bits of skill (writing included) from me. Hopefully, I can create more this summer! Anyways, I hope you all enjoy Karis and Kevin’s first date!!! Once again, shout out to @awerkofart for enabling this series! Love you 🥹.

Warning(s): Language, Drinking

Word Count: 2814

Like many other Milennials, one of the staples of Karis Brown’s social life was weekend brunch. Sunday Brunch, specifically, was for recapping the times of fun from the night before. However, this Sunday Brunch was no usual outing. It was a date with Coffee Bae, Kevin. He’d called her 20 minutes before to set it up and it was up to her to solidify an unforgettable second impression.

*buzz* *buzz* Incoming Group FaceTime Call from Sisterhood of the Traveling Scrubs

Loren and Jada were waiting on Karis to answer. “Heyy—oop! Hold on…,” Jada watched Karis as she propped her phone on a shelf, “…girl, what you got goin’?!” Loren brought her attention to the screen. Essence, Rose, and Rochelle all staggered into the group call, all shocked to see their friend searching for an outfit.

“Who you gettin’ cute for, bitch?,” Rose demanded. Everyone seconded her question.

Karis laughed to herself, “I never got a chance to bring it up, but I met a guy at Jahva on Friday. He asked me out for brunch, so I’m taking him up on his offer.”

“WHAAAAAT?!?!? Karis Zhanai Brown…going on a DATE?! He better be the finest man in the city,” Essence added, the girls agreed, “Does he have a name?”

“Kevin,” Karis replied fighting a cheesy grin. The girls had been Karis’s girls since med school orientation, but they still knew how to grind her gears. It didn’t make it any better that they were neighbors with key access to each other’s houses. They were going to be over there when Karis and Kevin returned from brunch. She was certain.

Karis paid her friends no mind as she changed into her sweatsuit. The girls threw out hypotheses and theories about this mythical Kevin. Little did they know, they were on mute as Karis tamed her coily hair into a half-up half-down style.

Karis finally unmuted herself as she laid her edges, “Y’all done?” Her friends looked to each other in silence, shocked that she’d just spoken after 5 minutes of unbridled chaos. “I just want to have a good time…for once. Let me just go to brunch and enjoy Kevin’s company. I appreciate the uproar around him, but let’s take this one moment at a time, aight?” Karis got up to pick out some shoes, “Sacai’s or Yeezy’s?”

Karis couldn’t remember the last time she’d been on a date. She couldn’t even remember going to a pleasurable business dinner. Studying and practicing medicine drained her of a social life and the opportunity to go on dates. Her family worked tirelessly for her to be the first doctor in the family, not be another wife. But this brunch date was different.

Karis sat in the car 10 minutes ahead of schedule, chest tight, and palms sweaty. Every social skill she possessed suddenly ceased to exist in this moment. She couldn’t even read the menu she’d just Googled. How amazing was the sight of the incomparable Dr. Karis Z. Brown herself—the surgeon that could do CABGs with one arm tied and repair carotids for breakfast—nearly hyperventilating at the thought of going to brunch with someone she met in her godparents’ coffee shop earlier in the week. “Get it together, mane,” she encouraged herself as she opened the car door to the slap of the sharp October Chicago wind at your face.

“What if she ghosts and makes me look like a fool?,” Kevin asked Kim as his leg bopped to the beat of the overhead music.

“Based on what you’ve told me about her, she doesn’t sound like the ghosting type. Besides, she’s 5 minutes early. Just breathe, Kev,” Adam instructed him over the phone. “Hey…,”he caught his attention, “…she might be as nervous as you are, if not more. The way you talked about her yesterday, it sounds impossible that she’d flake. Go enjoy yourself.”

Just as the call disconnected, the elevator door opened, revealing a nervous Karis looking down at her phone. Kevin’s face lit up as he saw her walk towards him in her khaki sweatsuit, brown fleece coat, matching chocolate Telfar, and Yeezy Foam Runners. She noticed his jeans, grey hoodie,navy flannel shirt, and wolf grey retro Jordan 12s.

The two embraced for the first time ever. She wasn’t certain of the cologne he wore, something with tobacco…maybe musk and leather… but whatever it was made her melt into his embrace. Lord, he smelled like a grown ass man.

After reluctantly pulling from his embrace, he offered Karis the seat in the booth. “A gentleman,” she complimented. The smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth spread to a full smile.

Karis got a corner glance at his shoes before he sat down, impressed at his shoe choice, “It could be my exhaustion, but are those the wolf grey 12’s?! They’ve been sold out here since I’ve moved here.”

His jaw dropped, “Girl, what you know ‘bout that?! Lemme find out you a sneaker head and a surgeon?!,” he remarked.

She threw her hands up, “Guilty as charged. It’s like the one thing that keeps me sane.” Karis felt her gapped smile betray her once again as she nervously fiddled with the gold necklaces around her neck. Kevin took notice; he was already entranced by her smile. He bit his lip, thinking of what to say next. The waiter coming to send the mimosa and water carafes gave him enough time to conjure something.

He looked at the caduceus and anatomical heart necklaces, “You always knew you wanted to be a heart surgeon?”

Karis glanced down at her heart necklace, shaking her head, “Nope. Wasn’t even in the cards until my med school rotations.”

Kevin’s eyes bucked open, “For real?!”

“I initially wanted to be a trauma surgeon or in sports med,” she admitted, filling both stemless flutes with passion fruit mimosas.

Kevin took a sip, noticing the potency of the drink, “So…shit that’s strong…what was that ‘a-ha’ moment?”

“My mom. She’d gotten sick from past trauma and I almost lost her. She had a cardiac tamponade—fluid from a sac in the heart fills the veins and blood and decreases oxygen flow, amongst other things. I wanted to help find a cause and solutions for her, so I went deep in my cardio books and found something. It saved her life.”

“I take it you and ya moms close?”

She pondered, “I’m her only child and there was a point that we were all we had. With everything we went through, we became trauma bonded.”

Kevin didn’t think he and Karis would have somewhat similar upbringings. His raising himself and later his siblings in Chicago and her being basically raised in Memphis by her mom before she met Karis’s stepdad. He had her figured out until they conversed.

It was easy to talk to each other. The conversations with one another felt familiar, as though they’d been friends for ages. With the aged feel of those conversations came the novelty of learning about one another. Karis quickly learned that Jordan and Vinessa—Kevin’s siblings—were the center of his universe. He showed her pictures of them, the smile on his face getting brighter the more he talked about them. In the same vain, Karis’s nieces and nephews (her step-sister Mary Margaret’s kids) were the lights of her life. Karis showed him the picture of her, Mary Evelyn, Luke, and Jacob at Jacob’s baptism. They were her “loaner kids” whenever she was back in Memphis.

Kevin’s gears began turning. He noticed how much Karis was active in church, based on the baptism picture and the mention of receiving Eucharist earlier this morning. He had to ask, “You Catholic?”

She huffed, “Close. Episcopalian. My mother is married to the Bishop of the Episcopal Diocese of West Tennessee. Charleta Duncan, the blackest of women, married the whitest man in all of Memphis, Patrick O’Doughtery Brown. Yet it somehow works,” she caught herself holding back a loud laugh. Kevin laughed with her.

Karis finally checked her phone, which revealed that an hour and a half had passed. Where did the time go? Karis also saw the group chat was abuzz for updates and her whereabouts. Loren and Essence were asking for Kevin’s Social Security number, while Jada asked for his dental records (ironic since she was a DDS) and most recent background check. Karis prayed an “I’m fine. Lemme have fun” reply would suffice.

The DJ had been playing 90s R&B all day. Banger after banger after banger, people found themselves dancing in between tables and singing their hearts out.

Then it happened. She heard the three piano chords and 808 beat of her favorite song, Can We Talk, and that was all she needed to hear. Karis dramatically dropped her phone on the table, hands high in the air as to submit to the beat of the song.

“Girl whatchu know bout this,” Kevin joked as he watched her dance in her seat.

She didn’t respond. Karis waited for the lyrics to start. As Tevin Campbell began to talk his shit, so, too, she began lip-syncing to the words. Kevin, also singing, scooted out of the booth. He reached out for her hand saying, “Let’s talk then, mamas.” Karis accepted his offer, sliding out of the booth.

“Lemme show you how to step,” he offered. He took her free hand into his. He began twirling heg around, while moving his feet front, back, front, side, side, left, and right. She did her own combination, surprising Kevin.

He twirled her away from him, “I thought surgeons couldn’t dance,” he pulled her back in close.

“You ain’t met one from Nawf Memphis with an uncle and aunt in Chicago, mane,” she retorted. The pair continued stepping, working in tandem with the rhythm. He maneuvered her away and close to him while still singing with her.

They sang the final bridge at the top of their lungs. Everyone else in the restaurant became a choir as they all sang aloud. As the song ended, Kevin escorted Karis back to the booth. Luckily for them, the waitress had finally appeared with their entrees. Kevin remarked about the fun he had and how ready he was to eat. Karis seconded.

As Kevin ate the sample of salmon and eggs she offered, she found the right moment to ask, “Y’know, you’ve asked a lot about me. I wanna know about you. If you don’t mind me asking, what do you do for a living?”

He choked on a piece of egg, “I’m a uh…business consultant,” he replied after gathering himself.

Her gut turned as he replied, “Is that your final answer?” He knew she knew something. Not quite that he was an undercover cop, but something.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“What’s your life goal?,” she asked without skipping a beat.

Kevin pondered, “Being a househusband.”

“You’re joking,” he wasn’t. There was a smirk held back, but he was about 45% serious.

“I mean, you’re a surgeon. Jackpot, right?,” he winked and licked his lips.

Karis re-adjusted herself, tilting her head before she spoke.

“To call yourself a househusband implies that we got married; to be married implies that we were betrothed; to be betrothed implies that were courted; to have courted implies that we went on other dates besides this one. Correct me if I’m wrong, Mr. Atwater, but it appears that you’re enjoying yourself and want to go on a another date?,” she observed as she downed her final mimosa, proud of her Sherlock-level deduction skills.

“Somethin’ like that. I do like being around you and I’d love to see you again,” Kevin offered her another bite of his chicken and red velvet waffles as he looked at her, clearly flustered at his charm and suave nature.

“I’d love a second date.”

He insisted on following her back home. He was concerned for her safety and wanted to see his date get in the house. He jogged to her door from his Hellcat, being sure she didn’t touch the handle. After the fight over the check (which she won), the least he could do was open Karis’s door. Karis usually went through the garage into the house; but since she had an audience in the foyer, it was her obligation to give them a show.

Karis led Kevin through the pathway in her front yard to the door. The rustled curtains confirmed Karis’s suspicion of nosy ass friends awaiting her arrival.

Kevin looked behind his date to see curtains rustling, “You must have someone over expecting you.”

Karis kicked the front door and adjacent wood panel, an attempt to shoo the girls away, “Oh, Kev, don’t pay they nosy asses no mind,” she said loud enough for them to hear inside. The two of you guffawed. The fact there were doctors listening to their friend’s conversation behind the door and foyer wall was so childish, yet comical. In the midst of the laughter, Kevin found her hands and held them between the two of them. Smooth fucker.

Once more, their eyes connected and simultaneously bit their lips, smitten with each other in the moment.

There was an obvious connection between the two love birds. For once, they mutually felt a sense of relief to be themselves. How is it that two strangers that met in a coffee shop by happenstance, were already so close after one brunch date? The romantic tension around them was nearly physical. It seemed as though they couldn’t be too far away from each other. Every once in a while, two people meet and in that initial meeting, it’s apparent to the Universe that they are meant for each other. They weren’t able to put their finger on it immediately, but this was Kevin & Karis. For once, they were able to enjoy someone’s company and immediately want to go somewhere else before their first date ended. They were destined.

“Karis, I really enjoyed you today. Seriously,” Kevin flashed a smile that made Karis’s feel an unfamiliar warm sensation radiate through her body.

“Same here, Kev. This was a breath of fresh air. We should do this again. Hopefully soon?”

He gently placed his large hand over her chin, peppering her lips with a meaningful, yet brief kiss, “Yeah. Real soon. I’ll holla atcha when I get to the crib?”

The sensation of his kiss, though temporary, weighed on her lips. She’d gone a hot minute without a kiss on the lips, yet his satisfied the long-ignored absence.

“Yeah,” was all Karis could muster.

He flashed one last wink before ducking into his Hellcat and driving off.

Karis couldn’t focus on getting your key into the door. Between the kiss, the cold, and the mimosas, she was literally stuck. After struggling to turn the key into the ever-moving lock, her friends were pushed out of the way by the 70+ year-old wooden door. Karis silently made her way to her usual spot on the L-shaped sofa. The girls filed into their usual seats in the den, all grinning with anticipation to ask about the date, parts seen and unseen. The minute Karis looked up, they all shrieked, startling her. “Don’t start allat bullshit, now,” Karis warned as she took her bra off, sighing in relief.

The warning went unanswered; the girls attacked their slightly buzzed friend with a group hug, to which she immediately swatted away.

“GIRL!,” Essence began, “He is FOINE AS HELL! Look at you!”

Loren added, “I gotta say, Kare, you did good. The fact I’ve never seen him before shows me that you’re real good. You gotta tell everything! I mean…ev-ver-ree-thang!”

Karis recalled what she could, from the call to the kiss. The whole time, she grinned, showing how smitten she was with Kevin. Seeing her elated made them happy. They knew the insecurity she had about being alone.

A few hours passed and everyone had returned home to get ready for work. Karis showered, did her nightly skincare routine, and prepped her work bag. Finally in bed, she turned to cut her bedside lamp off.

As if on cue, her phone buzzed. Kevin was trying to FaceTime.

“You must’ve seen me get in bed,” she jokingly answered.

Kevin chuckled, “Nah, just calling to let you know I got home 40 minutes ago. I had to help Vinessa with somethin’ and forgot to call you.”

“Oh really?,” she yawned, “Welp, I gotta be at Med at 4:45 a.m. for a surgery. Talk to you afterwards?”

“Sounds good, mamas, sounds good. Night.”

“Night, househusband-in-training,” she concluded, both laughing at her recall of their new inside joke.

Karis chuckled to herself as the sounds of crashing waves lulled her to sleep.

Kevin is going to be here a while.

DAAAAAAMNNNNNNNN! TAGLIST GOT ME PARKED IN DOWNTOWN AT-LANNUH 😭

@muse-of-mbaku @kumkaniudaku @goddessofthundathighs @mbakusthrone @mbakuwife @crushed-pink-petals-writes @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @jackburtonsays @randomwordprompts @bakarilennox @wakandan-flowerz @blackpantherreblogs @ljstraightnochaser @babygirlofwakanda @eerythingisshaka @turn-thy-paige @darqchilddaydreamz @doublesidedscoobysnacks @wakandas-vibranium @oshasimone @destinio1 @sonofnjobu @teheeboo @itsjustyazz @chaneajoyyy @lovelynervouschaos @katasstrophey @mareethequeen @jozigrrl @jellybean531 @awerkofart @storibambino @blackgirloneshots @royallyprincesslilly @certifiednatural

[beaker1636]

D is For Dianism - Ricky

A/N: When coming up with ideas for D my friend suggested this, I have never heard of it but basically the concept is that you enjoy the sexual actives and experiences but without either party climaxing. So they can do whatever they want but aren't allowed to finish.... with that said here we go!

“So are you done sulking about your failure last night so that you can give Rick his letter before we all get home?” Chris asks with a laugh from his bed in the hotel room the next morning.

“Oh I have his task… but he is going to fucking hate me, trust me.” Justin says, glancing over at his friend.

“Do I dare ask you ahead of time what it is or wait until we see the little dude turn bright red in anger?” Chris asks, now very interested in what Justin has up his sleeve.  Clearly he is still bitter about his loss, but that is Chris’ win because finally people are getting competitive and that was the whole point of this… and also to watch Vinny get flustered because that is always amusing.

“When we all meet in the lobby I’ll tell him… that way you all can laugh at this.  Probably risky pissing off the one who would actually kill me but.” Justin shrugs, slowly getting up so he can grab his bags as it is now time to gather and head back to the airport.  At least they will all be going home and now they are off for a couple months now, everyone had agreed they wanted a break for awhile.

The two head down for the lobby where everyone else is, waiting for the van to pull up.

“Hey, so I picked your letter out Rick,” Justin says, glancing at the others as they all gathered around to hear what is next.

“Okay and?” The shorter man asks, annoyed that Justin isn’t just coming out with it already.

“Dianism,” Justin says, smirking at his friend.

“What the fuck is that?” Vinny asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket to google it. 

“Oh he gets to fuck her, in face he has to, but neither of them are allowed to finish or else they lose.” Justin says, now full on smiling at his friend who is glaring at him without restraint at this point.

“Then what is the point of even doing anything?” Ricky groans, annoyed and honestly not understanding the point of it.  

“To feel closer or something? I don’t know I was just googling shit and came across it and figured I failed, may as well make it easy for you to fail at it too. This is a game after all, right?” Justin asks, thanking god that the sprinter van has arrived and he can dip out of the hotel before Rick can beat him into the ground.

“Well, we its about time we step this up some I guess… but dude that’s just straight up cruel,” Ryan says from his seat, adding his two cents into the conversation.

“I think it’s interesting, isn’t the point that we challenge each other?” Chris asks, letting out an annoyed sound when the guitarist punches him in the arm. “What was that for?”

“Agreeing with that dickhead,” Rick grumbles.

They all drop the conversation for the rest of the ride to the airport, everyone dozing off when they get on the plane, still exhausted from the traveling and performance that they gave the night before.

Later That Night

“Are you ready to do your letter thing or are you still sulking?” you ask, walking up to your boyfriend and giving him a back hug as he unpacks his bag from the trip.  You can’t help it, he looks really cute when he is huffy… but you can’t say that because it will annoy him more.

“I genuinely don’t think we can pull this one off, Justin gave us an awful challenge and I don’t know if we can pull it off.” He says, turning to look at you, the confused expression obvious on your face as he does so.

“Are you going to tell me what it is or keep it a secret?” you ask him with a giggle, which only annoys him more.

“Dianism, basically we have to have sex but neither of us can finish.  So we can edge and get close as much as we want but that is it,” he says with a huff, clearly annoyed. “I legit don’t know if either of us has the willpower to pull that one off.”

“So you don’t even want to try? Just automatically give up? I’d rather do it and fail than just automatically lose,” you respond, now playing with a couple strands of his hair as he looks at you.  You miss having more hair to play with of his but would be lying if you said you don’t find the haircut attractive.

“You’re the needy one and you are willing to try this? You’re the one who is going to hate it more than I would,” he says, now it’s his turn to start messing with you, ghosting his hands just barely under your shirt to run along the bare skin of your stomach.

“I may be a needy whore but even I can control myself,”  you glare at him, annoyed that he won’t even give you the chance to try. “Do you want everyone to know that YOU were the one to give up and not try?” you taunt him, pressing yourself a bit closer to him, knowing that if you pressure him enough that he will give in.

He does just that, closing the slim gap between the two of you as he pushes you backwards until the back of your legs hit the edge of the wall. “You sure that you want to start this war, because I can tease you for hours and hours, edging you over and over.” 

“Oh shut up and give in already,” you whine, egging him on.  Wanting to get him to be the first one to make a move, being the one to decide how things are going to go.  You enjoy giving up control and letting him take the reins so that you don’t have to think about what to do or try to guess what he wants.

The two of you make eye contact and stare each other down for a few seconds before he gives up, pulling you in for an aggressive kiss that quickly turns you into putty in his hands.  Him teasing you by biting your lip and tugging on it, knowing that when he gets this way with you that it spurs you on.

Just as quick as his lips found yours they are suddenly pulled away from your own, moving to leave a trail of kisses up your jaw leading towards your ear.

“Move to the bed,” he says softly, swatting your ass when he pulls away and you make your way over to the bed, sitting and waiting for what he wants next.

“Now strip baby, if we’re doing this then we are focusing on you.” He says, watching you closely as you begin to do what he asks, excited when you can see the desire in his eyes grow as you do what he asks.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, moving to push you on your back before leaning down to pull you into another kiss, this one much more heated as he slides a hand up your torso.  A rough calloused hand moving to toy with one of your breasts, taking his time with teasing you as he rolls your nipple between his fingers, smirking when you let out a soft moan.

Pulling his lips away from yours he kisses down your chest before his lips wrap around your other one, licking, sucking and lightly nipping at it until he can feel you shift beneath him, your arousal obvious to him as he continues to tease you for several minutes.

“You weren’t joking about teasing me tonight,” you say, your breathing heavy as you focus on his touch, needing him to stop doing so and touch you where you need him the most.

He pulls his lips away from your body to glance up at you. “I told you that you are a needy whore and would give in quick,” he smirks.

With that he slides a hand down between your thighs, urging you to open up to his touch a little but, which you finally give in and allow.  He runs a finger along your slit, happy when he finds how wet you are already before he sinks two fingers inside of you with no warning, making you moan out at the sudden stretch, both from pleasure and a little bit of pain from the sting.

“Remember, you can’t cum.  You have to make me stop before you do,” he says, watching you with half lidded eyes as he begins fucking you with his fingers, adding a third quickly knowing that the stretch will drive you insane.  Especially now that he is using his thumb to circle your clit, wanting to bring you close just so that he can rip it away from you.  You’re the one that insisted on doing this stupid challenge and he is set to make you regret it.

He can feel you starting to clench around his fingers so he stops, making you groan out in frustration at your ruined orgasm.  He then starts up again once you have calmed back down, only to do it again and again.

“God damnit, I need you inside of me please?” you beg after the fourth ruined orgasm, frustrated and craving the release that you have been denied yet again.

“Even if I am inside of you I still can’t let you cum, you know this,” he taunts, moving so that he can slide the rest of his own clothing off as he looks down at you.  Loving the way you look at him with such desire, that only he can give you or deny you of what you want.

“Fuck off, you know you want to….” you cut off with a gasp from him suddenly sliding into you, finally giving you what you want when he bottoms out inside of you.

He begins to thrust into you, taking his time so that he can tease you yet again, not quite giving you what you want nor need from him. However he eventually gets frustrated himself and starts to go harder, which unfortunately pulls both of you close so he has to stop.

Both of you grow frustrated as you continue this push and pull, getting right to the edge before you have to stop yourselves.  He starts up again, but this time it is too much, you are unable to stop yourself as you suddenly hit your climax, wrapping your legs around his waist as you do.  When you come down from it you feel guilty, knowing that you just lost the game for the both of you but it is short lived when he begins fucking into you harder.

“Fuck it, we already lost,” he groans as he now chases his own high, falling over the edge only a couple moments after you do, both of you collapsing next to eachother on the mattress as you both slowly come back to your senses.

“Fuck Justin,” you mumble before heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up, annoyed that you lost the game and that you two are now stuck being cockblocked for the next week until you get another stupid letter.

When you return to the bed you curl up next to Rick, resting your head on his shoulder while scrolling your phone and him reading, enjoying the quiet moment before you both fall asleep, exhausted from the marathon edging you both just endured.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey Steph, hope you are doing great. I sent you a request for internalized homophobia John ficrecs a while ago, accidentally as anon because it had been years since I last used Tumblr and clearly I have a hard time keeping up haha.

Anyways, while I patiently wait for your answer, I just wanted to send you some love because I got back into the fandom last December after years of pushing it aside, and it's been a wonderful experience of coming to terms with what fanfiction meant for me when it was a part of my life as a teenager. Your blog, which I found so quickly googling "johnlock fic recs", really facilitated the whole process of finding fics that could speak to me, and that reminded me why I used to love fanfiction so much.

I was just listening to "Probably Me" by Sting on the subway and thoughts it was such a Johnlock coded song and might be a great fit for your playlist. (I think this was the original intention for my message, and it kind of turned into something else haha.)

In other words, thank you :)

[Verse 1: Sting] If the night turned cold and the stars looked down And you hug yourself on the cold cold ground You wake the morning in a stranger's coat No one would you see You ask yourself, who's watched for me My only friend, who could it be It's hard to say it I hate to say it, but it's probably me

[Verse 2: Sting] When your belly's empty and the hunger's so real And you're too proud to beg and too dumb to steal You search the city for your only friend No one would you see You ask yourself, who's watched for me A solitary voice to speak out and set me free I had to say it I hate to say it, but it's probably me

[Bridge: Sting] You're not the easiest person I ever got to know And it's hard for us both to let our feelings show Some would say I should let you go your way You'll only make me cry If there's one guy, just one guy Who'd lay down his life for you and die I Hate to say It I hate to say it, but it's probably me

[Verse 3: Sting] When the world's gone crazy and it makes no sense There's only one voice that comes to your defense And the jury's out and your eyes search the room And one friendly face is all you need to see If there's one guy, just one guy Who'd lay down his life for you and die I Hate to say it I hate to say it, but it's probably me

[Outro: Sting] I hate to say it I hate to say it, but it's probably me I hate to say it I hate to say it, but it's probably me I hate to say it I hate to say it, but it's probably me

[Lyrics from Genius.com]

=====

Hi Lovely!

First of all, thank you so much for your lovely ask! I really am SO honoured you think so highly of my blog, and that it is a source of great enjoyment for you!

Secondly, I DID get your ask, and I have enough for a new list, so it is being saved for a Sunday posting! I ADORE when people give me asks I've already got lists for, so thank you!

And finally, THANK YOU for this playlist suggestion!! It's a great song for them for sure! *HUGS* Cheers!!

🎶 LISTEN TO THE JOHNLOCK PLAYLIST ON [SPOTIFY] & [YOUTUBE] 🎶

[spgothkidsheadcanons]

Heyyy! Me again (●’◡’●)ﾉ

So my request is how the goths would take care of reader when they are having a tic or panic attack! How would they react?

I’d like it to be more platonic then romantic but if you want you can do romantic💗

Anyways! I can’t wait to see it!!!! (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

Hey you!

I decided to go with a panic attack because I have never experienced a tic attack and didn’t want to get some things wrong!

Warnings: panic attack mention, knife mentions

Without further ado,

The Goths Helping You Through a Panic Attack {PLATONIC}

Michael:

- Michael is so sweet when he comes across you during a panic attack

- He’s already on the floor beside you, asking you what you need and gently rubbing your back to ground you back to reality

- Whatever made you upset, he promises that he’ll do something to get rid of the problem

- Makes you do breathing excercises with him until your breathing evens out

- Michael keeps reassuring you that everything is fine, and he tries to distract you by talking about all the trouble you two have gotten into over the course of your friendship

- When you start laughing at a particular story about burning down a certain store and ridding South Park of the “Vampire Disease” temporarily, he laughs along with you, and you both spend a moment just thinking and laughing about your younger years

- He asks you if you’d like to talk about what caused the panic attack. If you do decide to tell him, he’ll help you through whatever it is your going through

- If not, then he just nods and tells you that you can always talk to him if you needed to

- He’s a good friend, and always will be your best friend

Henrietta:

- SWEET BABY GIRL

- She’s very much like Michael, doing what she can to just be near you and let you know everything is okay

- She’s gotten you water, some light snacks, and pain medicine in case you developed a headache from the crying and sore muscles from the body spasms

- Henrietta has been there before, so she knows exactly what to do in this situatuon to help you feel better

- She puts on one of your favorite movies/shows to help distract you

- She also never stops letting you know that she’s right there and that you’re doing okay, you just have to breathe

- Once you’ve calmed down, like Michael, she asks if you would like to talk about it

- Depending on your answer, she’ll sit there and listen or she’ll make plans to have a girl’s day (she gagged saying that)

- Henrietta is a girl’s best friend

Pete:

- Pete isn’t very well versed on Panic Attack 101

- So when he notices you’ve completely shut down and are in the beginning process of a panic attack, he’s frantically calling his Uncle and Henrietta for some advice on how to care for you in this state

- He googles the best way to help someone out of a panic episode, suggesting things to you every now and then with his own panicked tone

- Finally, he sets his phone down, takes a deep breath, and just talks to you

- He talks about random stuff, things he’s seen, things he’s watched, what he had for dinner last night

- Every now and then offering you a question to answer, which actually helps to pull you out of your own mind

- After you’ve settled down, he gives you a blanket and a pillow and leaves you on your own, letting you rest after your attack

- While you’re resting, he makes you some snacks and a drink, and begins extensive research on how to be prepared next time this happens

- He hates seeing his friends in pain, he just cares about them so much 😩

Firkle:

- You were at school in the gym when your panic attack hit

- Firkle was with sitting beside you, not really paying attention to anything other than the chunk of wood and pocket knife in his hands

- He looked up when he heard your breathing become rapid, quickly putting his carving things away and putting his full attention on you

- He’s talking to you the whole time, touching you every now and then to signal he was there and that you weren’t alonr

- If anyone’s staring, he’s quick to pull his knife out again to threaten them

- He doesn’t force you to, but he suggests going to the nurse’s office so you don’t have to be gawked at

- After you’ve calmed down, he all but forces you to talk to him so he can help (read as destroy) with your problem

- Poor buddy hates seeing his only friend so upset, he’ll do whatever he can to help you feel better 🥺

[johntuckermustdie]

RAFE CAMERON FANFIC

Found this deep in my drafts, not sure if there's still a market for obx fanfics but ohh well...

pairing: rafe x oc

summary: Rafe attempting to get clean 💀

warnings: drug use, a lil bit of angst, bad grammar and typos

word count: 2.1k

PART 1:

***

He watches her from across the dark room. She's talking with one of her friends, chatting more animatedly than usual, her system wraught with alcohol.

If theres anyone else in the room, he doesnt seem to notice. He's been watching her for almost an hour, since his bleary eyes caught a glimpse of her brown hair as she waltzed through the doors.

He's perched on a couch, his friends nearby slung over cushions as they ride out the high of the cocaine. He's riding it too. Pupils blown out, heart racing. He's barely moved from his spot in two hours, only moving slightly to refill the drink in his hand.

She's been ignoring him the whole time, going about her night like she doesn't notice. She knows he wants to talk but she's not doing it when he's like this and for once he seems to respect that. He hasn't even tried to make a scene, but she knows the nights not over yet.

He would've caused a scene if he wasn't too fucked up to walk. The coke and alcohol in his system make it hard to string sentences together and the last time he tried to move he almost fell.

If he'd have known she was coming he wouldn't have gone so hard. But hindsights always a wonderful thing.

Shes wearing the dress he bought her, its pastel purple (her favourite colour) and clings tight to her form, showing off the soft curves of her body. She had wanted to get his attention, even to just make him regret his decision, but she'd be lucky to get any legible words out of him in his current state.

She spends the next few hours laughing with friends and dancing with tourons, she ends up with a dark haired boy who says he's from Georgia. She moves against him on the dance floor, his hands on her hips as they sway. She cant remember how many songs she'd been dancing with him for, but based on the hair sticking to her sweaty forehead and the burning in her lungs as she tried to catch her breath. It had been some time.

Rafe having been overcome with drowsiness, had fallen asleep. But as he finally comes to, the party is still in full swing. Hes by no means sober but his legs seem to be working again, which is great because he needs to piss.

Theres no sign of her as he walks the halls looking for a bathroom, maybe she left he thinks to himself. She wasnt usually the kind to stay out all night. Theres a deep growl in his stomach, then it lurches. Saliva fills his mouth. He really didnt need this now considering he hadnt found a bathroom yet. He stops for a moment, with the intentions of letting his stomach settle, within moments the feeling subsides and he continues his search.

She's by the pool with the touron boy, sitting on the side their legs dangling in the water. The buzz she'd had rushing through her head when he first asked her to dance had gone. He seemed nice, he was funny too. They were currently talking about surfing. He was surprised how she'd spent the last 5 summers in OBX but had never learnt how to surf. He offered to teach her, she laughed.

"How does a boy from Georgia think he can teach me how to surf? Aren't you guys landlocked?" she laughed.

"Well," he starts, his speak slightly slurred, "I guess I'll just have to google it."

Rafe had found a bathroom and now his next mission was to locate Ti. He asked around for a few minutes unsteadily pacing the halls before he thought to look outside.

She was by the pool with some guy he'd never seen before. His money was on him being a touron. He was getting close to Ti, too close.

Even with the music that carried outside. she still heard him coming, his shoes scuffled loudly against the concrete as he made his way towards her.

"Hey Ive been looking for you," Rafe confesses, his speech slurred, her eyes are on him, watching him expectantly, but shes not quite sure what to expect.

He walks closer to where theyre sitting with their legs dangling in the pool, plopping himself ungracefully besides ti. He puts his arm around her shoulder, moving his face close to hers, she can smell the alcohol on his breath as he plants a wet kiss on her cheek.

His unsteady hands reaches around the side of her head bringing her even closer so he can lay sloppy kisses on her neck. The familiar sensation makes butterrflies flutter in her stomach, but she can't.She pulls away from him, meeting his eyes. The blue glow given off from the pool reveals his glassy eyes and unfocused gaze.

'What?' he voice slurs with an affronted tone,'I can't even kiss my girl anymore?'

She shakes her head, incredulously,'You made it very clear last week that I wasn't.'

He'd been having withdrawals when he said it but the words still stung. So much so she'd walked out and hadn't talked with him since, ignoring all his calls. It wasnt just the words that had hurt, it was the fact that he'd promised he would to try stop drugs but he hadn't. She was done. So done with having to act like his Mom all the time, reprimanding him, it wasn't her job.

He tries to lean closer again,'Rafe' she warns.

'I just. I just wanna talk,' he whines.

'Leave me alone, I'm not talking to you when you're like this.'

As much as the words had hurt, she still loved him and it killed her having to ignore him but she didnt know what else to do. All she knew was she couldn't watch him self destruct anymore.

'Please,' he begs, as he tries to clasp her hand in his.

His stomach betrays him a few moments later, he lurches forward, his vomit projecting into the pool and also landing on his jeans.

She sighs, shaking her head again. She turns her head to the right to the dark haired touron who has fallen silent beside her,'I am so sorry,' she says to him as she gets to her feet.

'Get up Rafe,' she says to his hunched form. He looks up at her, wiping his mouth with the back of his palm before struggling to his feet.

She didnt know how her night was gonna end but this was not what she had in mind. She gives the touron boy a final nod before she clasps Rafes side and begins to walk him back towards the house.

He doesn't protest, he barely says a word as she walks him to one of the upstairs rooms, him stumbling up the stairs as they go. A few of the rooms are occupied but she manages to find one. She pushes open the door, revealing a fairly large guest room complete with an ensuite and a queen sized bed.

"Stand here for a minute," she tells him unclasping his arm, leaving him standing beside the bed. She tugs on the white material of the covers, pulling them away from the edge, revealing the sheets below.

She turns back towards him, watching as he sways slightly on the balls of his feet. Her eyes travel to his jeans and the vomits soaked in the parts of the material.

"You're not getting into these sheets with vomit on you, so take your jeans off."

He fumbles with the belt for a few moments before she replaces his hands with hers, undoing the buckle like she'd done so many times before, this time with absolutely no passion behind her intent.

[[[

"I fucked everything up didn't I?" he mumbles as she pulls the comforter over his brief cladded form, "I always fuck things up," he confesses, his voice slurred. There's a pained expression on his face, his eyelids hang low.

"You know I didnt mean that shit Ti."

She watches him and in that moment she no longer feels contempt but instead pity.

"I dont care if you meant it or not,' she says, her expression hardening, 'Look at you,' she says as she gestures a hand towards him,"You're a fucking mess. You cant even stay clean for one day."

"Babe," he whines, one of his hands moves to grasp her wrist, but this time she doesnt try to pull away. His hands feel clammy against her warm skin, "Please just give me one more chance."

He tugs on her wrist, trying to pull her down to the bed,"Can you lay with me please?"

She sighs, fighting the urge she has to march out of the room and leave him

Finally, she gives her head a small nod. She pulls away from his grip, making her way to the other side of the bed.

She crawls her way over the sheets and moves to lay beside him. His eyes are barely open, his hair is slightly dishevelled. She puts a gentle hand through it, trying to comb it back into place.

"I keep fucking up," he utters. He moves so his body presses closer to hers, so his head is close to the crook of her neck," I don't know what to do," he continues, his voice cracking slightly. There's a shudder that wracks his shoulders that tells her he's crying.

Her heart breaks in her chest. She rubs her hand against his back,"You need to get some help Rafe."

"I know," he sobs.

When he wakes up his head is pounding. There's a dull pain behind his eyes and his mouth is dry. Ti's side of the bed has gone cold, but the sound of the tap running in the adjacent bathroom tells him she's in there. He gives a groan as he gets to his feet, the world spins around him like its just been hit off its axis. But regardless he makes it to the bathroom.

She's standing in front of the mirror, her face over the basin as she cleans her face, trying to rid it of the makeup from the night before.

"Morning," he says as he takes a place behind her, leaning on the wall behind him. Even though there is still a slight spin to his world, he watches her intently.

"Hey," she says as she raises her face from the basin. Meeting his eyes in the mirror. Her eye makeup is smudged, black stains around her eyes, "How you feeling?"

"Like shit," he mumbles as he moves a hand to rub the sleep from his eyes.

She gives a quiet laugh, shaking her head.

She leans her head back down, continuing in silence. She scrubs her eyes until there are only slight traces of last nights eye liner.

He remains behind her, waiting until her face finally peaks back out of the sink.

"I fucked up last night," he sighs.

"Barely," she says as she brings the towel to her face, wiping away the last drops of water, "You've done worse.'

He shakes his head at her, his eyes rolling, "That's not the point Tee. Okay?" he sighs, "The point is… I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" she says incredulously, her eyebrows raising, "you been saying that alot lately Rafe."

His eyebrows scrunch in annoyance, "Yeah cause I'm sorry,' he says it like its the most obvious thing in the world.

"No you're not!" she says, her voice raising,"You keep saying it, but you're not. If you were sorry you'd try to get your fucking life on track."

"I am trying Tee," he says, his arms moving like he's making a point.

She scoffs again in disbelief," Trying what?" she yells, "To kill yourself? Because last night it looked like you were giving that a good go.'

He looks away from her, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, avoiding her gaze, "I…," he stutters,"I didn;t know you were coming."

"So what?" she spits,"If you knew I was coming you would have pretended you're not some coked up piece of shit for a night!?"

The words are like a slap to his face, she regrets them as soon as they leave her mouth. but it's too late now, they're out, hanging in the air like a bad smell.

Her voice softens,"I'm sorry. I didnt mean that."

Although the words weren't far from the truth, she never thought she'd hear herself say something that hurtful out loud.

"No, I know you did," he says eventually, a defeated sigh escaping his lips, "Its true."

[bizarre-blorbo-bracket]

Round 2 poll 7: Rev. Green from Cluedo vs the Log Chute from the Mall of America

Propaganda under the cut:

Rev. Green:

1) Literally just a random board game character 😪 2) Ok so basically here’s the deal. One day, about a year and a half or two years ago, I saw some random thing related to Clue online. I (dual U.S. American and Russian citizen, because I was born in America to an immigrant parent, I PROMISE this is important) was confused because among the cast of characters was “Mr. Green”. Now, I hadn’t played Clue in a very long time. It wasn’t my favorite game as a kid, my only memories of it were wanting to play as Ms. Peacock and then my brother taking her and making me pick someone else, but I was pretty confident the character was Reverend Green. What happened? Was he excommunicated?? I kind of figured the name was just changed to reflect a more secular culture and that I had unknowingly played an old copy of the game as a kid.

But it fascinated me. So I spent months on and off researching the topic. (poorly, might I add, it wasn’t a complicated issue. But still.) I found out about many changes from version to version. Clue Junior, Clue VCR Mystery, Clue Master Detectives, all of it. And the whole time, Green was there to greet me in each new version. It was the first thing I always checked. Was he Mister or Reverend? I found out in one version he was a defrocked priest turned businessman, and in another a scam artist who pretended to be a member of the clergy to pull of a scheme. Closer. I ran polls, I went to irl Clue events, and eventually I found what I was looking for the whole time. Green was a Reverend in the 1944 patent of the game, and the subsequent 1949 U.K. release of Cluedo. But, because of fear that U.S. Citizens would take issue with a member of the church being suspected of murder, Parker Brothers changed the name to Mister Green for the U.S. release.

That all could have taken me five minutes of googling, but honestly the chase made the result so much more worth it. And yet, there was something more there in the back of my mind. This all was well and good, but why was I so sure of the U.K. version of the name? My father’s family is Irish so we have a pretty healthy hatred of all things British, there’s no way my dad would’ve had us play that version of the game. Right? But thanks to a response from a poll I ran, I found out that the German version also went with Reverend. Because Green is an Anglican, I kind of assumed that the U.S. change might have been carried over into other international releases. But no! That made me realize that Mister Green is an outlier and that almost all languages of the game use Reverend. So then last night the pieces finally clicked together. I asked my mom to confirm a hunch I had, not expecting her to at all remember something this trivial. Like I said, I didn’t play it much as a kid. Maybe we didn’t even own a copy, and I had just played it at a library or a hurricane shelter or a relative’s house or something. But she remembered. We did, in fact, own the game. Not just any version, but a RUSSIAN COPY. I unknowingly grew up with Cluedo! So I had every reason to believe it was Reverend Green and be confused when I heard otherwise.

Tl;dr, minor version difference between Russian and American copies of a board game gave me a hyperfixation and a blorbo.

the Log Chute:

Listen, I hope it is okay to submit a ride, I saw some other people had submitted places (?) BUT, I'm obsessed with this ride, I have a YouTube playlist of people riding it, so I can watch it whenever I want. I live hours away from MOA, but whenever I go, I beg and plead my friend group to go with me. The smell of the ride alone makes me so happy. One time on my birthday, there wasn't a line, so the ride operator let me ride it seven times in a row without getting off. To me, it's like god's gift to the universe. I know all the fun facts about it and recite them to my friends. Also, there's a giant Paul Bunyan animatronic (the ride is Paul Bunyan themed) and they dress him in giant cute holiday sweaters every year!! And they also dress him for different occasions, which is so funny because he's literally like 15 feet tall. It also has a Babe the Blue Ox Statue that I think used to spit mist out of her nostrils, but she no longer has that function. A lot of the animatronics on this ride are no longer operational and I will point out every one while riding it. I'm obsessed with it. I guess if a ride isn't okay to blorbo, the Paul Bunyan and Babe Animatronics are also my blorbo of choice.

[rainberrydrops]

21 Questions Tag

thank you for this @aomitois 🤍

1. Nickname:

✨Ries✨

2. Zodiac:

♉

3. Height:

your pocket-sized 4"11 girlie ✨

4. Jock, nerd, prep, goth?

Definitely nerd. I have a lot of interests that I enjoy talking about

5. Last thing I googled:

"Star Rail Yukong" 🤣 I just got her last night and I am going to build her so I'm looking at guides

6. Favorite musician:

I have a lot! It's hard to pick my most favorite among them. But if I were to recommend a musician to a friend, I would pick Blü Eyes. She's so underrated but her songs speak to the soul and the heart.

7. Song stuck in my head:

Currently? It's "Let Me Let You Go by One Ok Rock"

8. House or block flat?

There are very few flats here in my country, it's mostly condominium units 😅 so I will choose a house. It would be so cool to have my own house someday and I will surely enjoy decorating it

9. Followers:

971 amazing beautiful hoomans 💖✨

10. Do you get asks?

Yes, sometimes! And I really appreciate the time they took to send me one 🤍

11. Amount of sleep:

usually around 6-7 hours 😅 it's so hard for me to get a full 8 hours sleep nowadays. Life is really busy and there are a lot of things I have to do and want to do

12. What are you wearing?

It's usually hot and humid in where I live so just a basic white shirt and dark green shorts 😆

13. Dream job:

I do not dream of labor 🤣 but I'm proud to say I fulfilled the dream of my younger self and currently working as a professional writer for events marketing. She has always wanted to become a writer. While the process of achieving this is not easy and I experienced having self-doubt and questioning my life decisions countless of times, I guess you would always end up where you're supposed to go. And I can say I am content with the current job that I have. I am not an ambitious person and I have no desire to get promoted to a higher position because that would only mean more workload for me 🤣 and I hate the thought of that. I place a great value on work-life balance and that's the first thing I prioritize every time I apply for a job

14. Dream Trip:

I have a lot of places I want to visit! I guess it's because growing up, I wasn't able to travel a lot. So now that I am older and earning my own money, I want to spend it in a memorable way. I hope I can travel more in my country, the Philippines, because we've got a lot of beautiful scenery, forests, nature spots, and islands that I haven't seen yet. I want to visit the East Asian and other South East Asian countries because I'm interested in their culture. Traveling to Europe is also on my bucket list, and I want to visit The Netherlands the most so I could finally see my long-time best friend @happysops 💜

I have a lot of things I want to do 🤣

15. Instruments:

I hold high respect and admiration for musicians because I am not musically inclined 😅 I never had a chance to learn how to play any instruments

16. Language:

Tagalog, English, and I can read and understand a little bit of Korean and Japanese. I took a Spanish class back in college but I have forgotten everything I learned from there 🤣😭

17. 10 Favorite songs as of now

• Quarter Life Crisis - Taylor Bickett

• Getting Older - Blü Eyes

• Hype Boy - NewJeans

• Cupid - Fifty Fifty

• Ditto - NewJeans

• Left Right - XG

• Doushite - Takasetoya, Emi Noda

• Let Me Let You Go - One Ok Rock

• July - Laur Elle

• You'd Never Know - Blü Eyes

18. If you were an animal: 😼

19. Favorite food:

pepperoni pizza, takoyaki, dried mangoes, matcha!!

20. Random Fact:

I like watching concerts and attending art markets. I usually spend my paycheck on them 🤣 (please don't be like me). Actually, I will be attending Nmixx's concert this weekend and next week I'll be roaming around in another local art market 😆 being surrounded by talented and creative people uplifts my energy~

21. My aesthetic:

I don't really have a specific aesthetic but I like wearing comfortable clothes based on my mood on that day 😆 and cute jewelry and accessories 💖 my go-to bag is totes!

Tagging: @roselise @froglovemushroom

[erikatsu]

okay, i had my laughs last night but i feel like this needs to be said because im still a bit irate and this is serious. rant about plagiarism under the cut.

if you are going to accuse someone of plagiarism, you need to be 100% sure they actually did it. you need to have your proof ready before you even say a word. as someone who has had 4 different blogs + 29483929 urls, i have reposted some of my own works at least twice.

receiving a comment asking people to report my work as stolen nearly sent me into an anxiety attack my mind was thinking, “i wrote this fic a year ago and bc im just now reposting it, im going to be the one who gets the hit for plagiarism… not on my watch. i’ll call them out before they do it to me.” so i scoured ao3 for any trace of this fic and found nothing besides a toji fic with the same title but different premise, because the comment was made that it was originally on ao3. so i figured “what are the odds this ao3 poster has a tumblr” and went to the accusers blog. low and behold– and only after two minutes of scrolling– i find they had reblogged it when i had posted it on this account for literally an hour. i don’t even rmr why i posted and priv’d it that quickly but i did.

i originally posted this fic on. april 24th 2022 on my blog first nsfw blog, touyaphoria. reposted here when i was tumblr user bladiez, for a split second on august 1st 2023 (which i forgot until i saw their rb). i reposted and left for good on the 8th of this month on my now writing blog tomuras. it was stated in the final repost that it was a repost (i have since changed the note to specify which blogs it was posted on beforehand). and it would’ve taken them less time to realize both fics were posted by the same person had they scrolled their own blog instead of me figuring it out myself. it could have been totally avoided.

now, i do appreciate someone looking out for my work like that, i really do. but on the other hand it felt so shitty to be somewhat publicly accused of something that i didn’t even do. and it felt even shittier that i received no apology for it. i didn’t even send them the pictures i posted here as proof, i sent them proof straight from google docs + my initial idea being discussed with a friend of mine and that seemed to be enough because they never responded and they never made a callout post like they said they would. the usual tumblr drama and discourse i can let roll off my shoulders. but an allegation like that is heavy and not just on tumblr. if an actual published author was accused of plagiarism the backlash would be outrageous and have extreme consequences.

tdlr: please heed the notes on posts, not just warnings. do your research before falsely accusing someone. or, if you can be bold enough to accuse someone, at least have the decency to apologize for it if you are wrong.

[issybettyx]

Tommy unreliable narrator au

Disclaimers:

1. Idk what unreliable narrator is, i’m not googling it simply to see how this turns out

2. This is being written out of boredom because i’m waiting for my computer to cool down before watching the final episode of limited life (i started watching it last night)

3. I hardly ever write angst anymore, but this is simply my origins, so enjoy the angst

4. I also never write in first person, so it might be shit and the tenses might be off, so don’t question it

5. I also hardly ever write bad parent phil, and i always make wilbur and techno good people. But hey, anomalies are good sometimes

6. I’m not listening to angsty music, i’m listening to one direction, trust me it’ll make this writing better

Tldr; tommy has never had anyone to trust, so he finds himself trusting people he shouldn’t

Trigger warnings: manipulation

———

All I ever wanted was a constant.

It’s all anyone wants in this world, really, and I’m not sure how others found theirs.

I used to have Tubbo, I met him when we were seven and he tried to tackle me in the playground to prove a point to his other friend at the time. Of course, I hated him for it, but he helped me up and dusted the dirt off my shirt, so I decided I liked him. Everything good comes to an end eventually though, and he betrayed me, just like everyone else in this fucking world.

I never really had parents either, which most people can rely on for many things. My childhood was a blur for the most part, jumping between foster homes, some admittedly worse than others, before finally escaping at sixteen.

That’s how I found myself in the Arctic, a chilly place with strange people.

Newspapers littered the floor no matter where I walked, and most weeks I’d find myself staring at screen-shotted camera footage of the local villains. After asking a civilian about it, they told me about the following;

Soot was a tall, masked man with a knack for fire and explosives. His features mostly went unknown, but brown hair was known to peak out from under his hood, and hazel brown eyes glared at anyone who dared approach him. The clothes he donned were simple, a yellow jumper matched with black cargo trousers, a long brown trench coat over his shoulders.

Blade was even taller, but people speculated that was only because of his boots, the heels higher than should be possible for him to fight as well as he does. Most well known for carrying a broadsword and easily defeating everyone he faced, bright red eyes hidden behind a pig mask. No one knew his hair colour, most likely because he was much more careful with hiding his identity than Soot. However, his clothes were much more regal than Soot’s casual outfit, with a poets shirt and a long red cloak, similar trousers to the other. A crown was placed on his head, gold with an emerald on the front.

And then, last but definitely not least, was Corvine. The only winged man on Earth, whose pitch black feathers could be found dotted around the country. Unlike his teammates, most of his features were on display; long, blonde hair fell onto his shoulders, shining blue eyes are shown through a black crow mask, the only thing covering his identity. A black turtle neck was his chosen shirt, with a dark green hooded cloak, the same black trousers as his teammates.

Together, they were the SBI.

SBI weren’t the only villains of the Arctic, however, as there was a greater organisation named the ‘Antarctic Empire’, which the civilian told me was to show how they believed in morals and duties that were opposite to what the Arctic taught their citizens.

Trust had been difficult since Tubbo decided to leave me, so obviously I didn’t believe everything this person told me. A villain, by dictionary definition, is the person responsible for specific problems or damage. Who was to say what they’d done was a problem for the greater public? After-all, it was government ran news stations who told the people about these villains.

So, I decided to find out for myself.

It was tricky to find them, understandably, but after three weeks of trying to bump into them, a pig mask stared back at me in the dead of night.

“You shouldn’t be out here kiddo.”

Kindness, protection, concern.

“Well I don’t exactly have a bed time.” I returned at the same pace the other had spoken, not being able to match Blade’s deep voice and monotonous tone. However, the man let out an amused huff.

Human. Human. Human.

“Go home, it’s dangerous out here, and trust me when I say you don’t want to see Corvine.”

“Well, that’s kind of what I’m here for.” I reply easily, and the shock on the other’s face is hardly noticeable, but I saw his lips part for a split second.

“You? Wanna become a part of the Empire?” He asked, clearly disbelieving even when I nodded incessantly. “Good luck with that one.”

“I’m stronger than I look.”

“You’d be good bait.”

Resourceful, cautious, facetious.

“You underestimate me, Blade.”

The sound of feet landing beside us filled our ears. Blade flinched, I simply looked.

There stood Corvine, his wings spread out behind him, an eyebrow raised just over his mask, a smile on his lips as he stared directly at me, blue eyes blinking with a hint of suspicion.

“Who’s the kid mate?” He asked, the question clearly not directed towards me but rather his teammate, who didn’t manage a reply in time.

“I’m Tommy, Tommy Innit, and I have a proposition for you.”

Corvine paused, clearly contemplating something as his wings slowly pulled behind him.

Curious.

Human. Human. Human.

“And what may that be?”

“You know I’m powerful, you can feel it.” Corvine paused again, and I grinned, hands behind my back as my feet rocked on the pavement. “I would like to join the Antarctic Empire.”

I expected several things.

Maybe to be shoved away, taken to a local orphanage, maybe even to be killed for talking to people with a bad reputation.

Instead, Corvine smiled, it was bright and happy and everything that made my chest uncomfortably warm, a skipping feeling in my heart that I couldn’t explain if I was given years to name it.

There was no malice in the dimples that had formed on his cheeks, no ill intentions in his blue eyes, but a strange form of pride that only powered my want to join them, to stand beside them, to make sure they didn’t regret taking me on.

Corvine smiled, and I knew I’d done something right.

—

“So, this isn’t the main base, we’ll take you there after a few weeks and we’re sure we can trust you, however some of the Empire are here currently that I’d like you to meet.” Corvine explained, footsteps silent as he made his way through the hall. Since we started the journey back to a safe location, Corvine’s wings had been pulled behind him, whether it was to seem less threatening or because he was simply relaxed, I don’t think I’ll ever be entirely sure.

“Soot!” Corvine called into the building, hands around his mouth to project his voice more. Blade continued on through the building, leaving his sword on it’s rack before falling onto a sofa, picking up a book and completely ignoring everything around him.

Trusting, bored, uninterested.

“What?! I’m busy!”

“I don’t care come downstairs!” Corvine yelled back, receiving a loud groan in return, and then a door slamming, and then much louder footsteps.

The civilian was right, he was tall.

And also completely maskless.

The man paused half way down the stairs, brown eyes wide as they stared directly at me.

And then, he groaned again, making his way down the rest of the steps before standing in front of Corvine, a frown adorning his face.

“You could’ve told me we had a visitor.” He grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest before staring at me, a hint of curiosity in his eyes that I couldn’t find a way to explain.

“This is Tommy, he’s going to be your apprentice.”

“Sorry what?” We both asked, and I couldn’t help but pause, glaring at the other who clearly returned the sentiment.

“I don’t need training-“

“And I don’t need a child following me around all day! Techno’s bad as it is!”

Corvine sighed, pinching the nose of his mask as he muttered words to himself I couldn’t quite catch. “Well Tommy can’t just become a member of the organisation, Blade’s busy enough as it is, and I have to run the entire fucking thing! So you’re the next candidate.”

“Why not Nihachu? She’s way better than me!”

“What did we say about complimenting others to get yourself out of things you need to do?”

Manipulative, argumentative, adamant.

But smart, resilient and devoted.

“Not to do it.” He mumbled back, and Corvine simply sighed again, walking away from the two and walking through a doorway, the door slamming shut behind him. And then, Soot turned back to me, eyes squinted as he stared, so I simply copied, hands balled into fists at my side. “What’s your power anyway?”

“None of your business.” I spat back, hardening my glare.

“Well it kind of is, considering I have to train you and all.”

“I can go without training my powers, you’d be too shocked to do anything about it.”

When Soot groaned and finally broke the eye contact, I found myself looking at the sofa where Blade sat, book in hand and hood pulled down, revealing french plaited pink hair.

“Like the hair Blade, really brings out your eyes.” I comment, he doesn’t even register that he heard it.

Embarrassed, fond, stubborn.

“Alright child-“

“For the third time today I’m not a child.” I insist, but Soot goes undeterred, walking away and only leaving me to assume to follow.

“Your room is the one on the left at the end of the hall, come to training room C at 7am sharp and I’ll show you around the building.” Soot explained, stopping outside of the door he’d mentioned before turning back around, something dangerous flickering in his eyes that I almost laughed at. “But if you even try to escape and reveal our whereabouts, you will be killed on the spot, do I make myself clear?”

“Clear as day big man.” I reply easily, but the man’s glare only hardness, leaving me to push into the room and shut it behind me.

After a quick scan of the room - checking for cameras as always, can never be too careful - I fall onto the bed, eyes drooping shut the moment my head hits the pillow.

———

Shorter one today cus i hate writing in first person, probably won’t continue this because first person just reminds me of wattpad and third person is simply superior

A few things to take note of:

Sbi aren’t actually good people in this fic. Irl they’re the best, in this au however Phil is only looking to capitalise on the power and vulnerability Tommy possesses. Techno is genuinely indifferent iferent, he doesn’t care of Tommy’s existence, he doesn’t care if he moves in and becomes a part of the team, he simply doesn’t care. Wilbur genuinely hates him, it’s not a fond insulting or teasing arguments like Tommy believes, but simply his raw emotions and feelings.

There are a few main bits where the unreliable narrator gives off this idea that SBI are good people. For example when Phil smiles.

No one has ever really shown Tommy affection in his life, apart from Tubbo who ‘abandoned’ him (Tommy pushed him away). So when Phil smiles, despite Tommy’s trust issues, he takes it as a positive thing.

Phil: smiles

Tommy: oh my god affection thank you i need a family you are now my father im so glad i made you proud and i wont stop at anything to make you continue to be proud

Phil: woo a child who i can manipulate and send him on death riddled missions without having to sacrifice my children :D

However, when he meets Soot and finds that he’s ‘Manipulative, argumentative, adamant.’ he basically says ‘nah bro these people mean no harm, let’s look at the positive side’ and makes these negatives into positives.

Some part of him understands these people don’t truly love him for him, but rather are going to keep him around for what he’s capable of. But he doesn’t want that part of him to be known, he wants someone to trust, he wants protection, he wants a family he can love and so he pushes it aside. Tommy looks at Wilbur and aspires to be him, Wilbur looks at Tommy and wishes for his downfall.

If you want fluff out of this au, just know if I was to continue it the person who would genuinely become Tommy’s family would be Techno; his indifference is because of lack of knowledge, he sees a bright eyed kid with aspirations he assumes he’d never achieve and finds he doesn’t want to be a part of it. But then he sees Tommy’s true intentions, his underlying need to be understood and loved, the want and need so strong that he lies to himself to get what he wants, and he feels bad because he knows what that feels like.

Anyways, I’m off to go read, ily all and i hope you all enjoyed this lil thing :)

[writingmaidenwarrior]

Just the usual morning

I think @flashfictionfridayofficial prompts are helping me to get a WIP lol Last week's piece lived in my head rent-free and expanded over the last days, and today's prompt gave me a good excuse to write some of the new characters. This will be some cozy slice of life fantasy thing in the long run.

Reki curled up with a small poof of fire under the pot of water for tea while Amon rummaged around to find his googles. Maud stood with her hip rested at the table and watched him run around like a cow in a thunderstorm, while the scent of the herbs and scrambled eggs slowly filled the room. It was a thankful, slow morning, and she knew to cherish them as they came. She knew visitors were coming before the knock on the door came because Reki lifted her little dragon head curiously. With the knock on the door, the faint sound of metal sounded off, giving away it was the royal guard. There were only two reasons for them to appear on her door step that early: Either one of them was hung over and didn’t want to go to their guard’s healer or Meir. The uproar outside said it was Meir. The moment she opened the door, said former royal guard hung between two of his old comrades, looking like he had a run in with Death himself, but still with this aloof smirk on his face that lit up his amber eyes under this unruly mop of black hair. They had him in a secure grip by his shoulders to make sure he wouldn’t run away, like he ever would. “Good morning, Maud, I am sorry to disturb you but…” She waved them off and motioned inside. “You know the way, guys.” They dragged him inside and threw Meir on a free chair. Reki immediately scurried over and seated herself on Meir’s lap. Love-sick little dragon. The higher-ranked guard nodded to the other one he could leave and waited for him to be out of the door before he addressed Meir. “I can’t keep doing this.” “I never asked you to, Kellen.” “We are friends, moron. That’s the least thing I can do.” “You mean beside throwing me in a cell?”, Meir asked while scratching Reki’s ear. Kellen sighed defeated. “Make sure he will stay away from a pub for one night”, he said towards Maud before he left off. She already had the small jar with salve in her hands and put it in front of him. “You know he tries to help”, Maud reminded Meir softly, and left for the last preparation of the day. “I know”, he sighed, just as defeated as Kellen moments ago, “But he has to understand it would be better for him to stop caring.” “Says the man who cares too much”, Amon teased, finally with his googles in his hands. A boyish smile was all Meir could muster as a reply as he opened the jar and started to apply the salve to his bruises. “Where is Iskra? She isn’t here yet?” Meir’s eyes scanned the room for the young tiefling bard. “Probably overdoing it again.” Amon placed the bread and eggs in front of Meir with a look that left no discussion as to eat. Maud came back with the blue vest that carried the tree emblem, identifying her as an official healer. “Another one I need to keep out of the pubs for tonight.” The door swung open and a heartily yawing Iskra stumbled inside. She barely managed to put her lute aside before she fell into the last free chair. “You are barely awake, sweets”, Meir softly admonished and grabbed the pot of tea to pour her a mug, adding extra honey for her voice. Maud and Amon shared an amused look. Ever since Iskra came to the city and became part of their unusual horde, Meir became her protector. Only he knew what he saw in her. “Thanks. The patrons just left.” “You need to take better care of yourself, sweet love”, Amon advised, “There is no use in grinding yourself to dust. Take a day off.” Iskra’s snoring was the only sound, her head in her hands.” “Go to work, I’ll carry her to her room”, Meir snickered at the sight, “And I promise no gambling tonight. It will be enough of a game of luck to keep her entertained.” “True words. A bag of fire ants is easier to handle than her when bored”, Maud laughed and patted his shoulder, “And get a bath, you stink.” Laughter erupted at Maud’s comment.

[witchern]

wip wednesday.

once again nobody tagged me, i just wanted to prove that this midam k-pop au DOES exist in a google doc somewhere xoxo

The concert tickets were a surprise from Jo. 

At first Adam resisted—strongly, loudly, childishly—but he was worn down by the prospect of spending the night as just another anonymous face in a crowd of thousands, losing himself to the music he’d come to enjoy. He was sick of the monotony of his clinic shifts, sick of being stuck in his own head, sick of drowning in his own thoughts, so yeah: a K-pop concert with his best friend sounded like a good idea. 

The fact that he’d be watching Michael perform in person wasn’t lost on him either. In spite of the fact that Adam was trying to furiously backpedal and undo any attraction he felt toward the man, he couldn’t unsee the hours of music video footage, performance recordings, award ceremonies, and interviews that he’d already watched. In other words: he knew just how talented Michael really was. And he was about to see it all in person. 

ARKangel had apparently sold enough tickets to completely sell out Madison Square Garden, because of course they did. Adam hurried to cross the street and craned his neck looking for the west entrance where he and Jo had agreed to meet up after she got out of work. There were still two hours before the show began but the sidewalk was already packed with fans waiting patiently in line to get in; Adam had to duck and weave through throngs of people, stunned yet again that all these American fans were here to see four guys from Korea. 

Adam finally gave up on the search and called her so she could direct him to her exact spot in front of a lamp post. She waved frantically at him, grinning from ear to ear as he approached and they hung up. 

“You look a little too excited. What’s going on?” Adam asked, narrowing his eyes. 

“What? I can’t be excited to pop my best friend’s K-pop concert cherry?”

“That’s…the most repulsive sentence you’ve ever strung together.” Adam’s suspicious gaze landed on a folded T-shirt Jo had draped across her shoulder. “What’s that?”

“This is for you. To wear. Tonight.” 

And with a flourish, Jo whipped the shirt out and unfolded it. It was a baseball tee with neon purple stripes—ARKangel’s signature color—and the band’s logo on the right chest. Adam actually thought it looked pretty cool…until Jo flipped it around to show the back, where the name ‘MICHAEL’ was emblazoned in bold neon lettering where a last name would normally appear on a real baseball jersey. 

Adam’s cheeks burned with embarrassment. “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

“Nope. You’re one of us tonight. Put this on, Milligan.”

Adam finally noticed she was already wearing a matching shirt. “Who are you wearing, then?”

Jo turned so he could see ‘GABRIEL’ branded on her back. 

Adam snatched the Michael shirt with unnecessary force. “I hate this so much.”

“Nobody asked.” 

He slipped the shirt over his plain black tee and left it unbuttoned, feeling more and more like he wanted to find the nearest sewer entrance and crawl in. Jo, on the other hand, was grinning so hard he was surprised her face didn’t break in half. 

“And that’s not even the best part,” she said ominously.

“Oh god. What else is there?”

Jo just kept grinning and beckoned him to follow her through the crowd to wait in line. “We gotta get in a merch line as soon as possible. You need a lightstick.”