#hey when I say I'm feeling socially drained this is how I feel. When you respond in that way this is how it makes me feel

[dirkxcaliborn]

Reddit is absolutely insane sometimes. "my boyfriend gets sad when I don't want to watch him play video games and doesn't feel like playing anymore."

"Your boyfriend is a childish control freak" < not even paraphrased. That's literally how the comment started word for word.

[pin-k-ink]

how about Kenma getting addicted to the taste of reader's tits? 🤭

refuge // kozume kenma

tw ⇢ tooth-rotting fluff, cuddling, needy!kenma, praise kink, nipple play, fingering, kenma’s love for apple pie, anything else i missed

wc ⇢ 4.2k

The bedroom was awash in the warm, honeyed glow of the bedside lamp when Kenma shuffled in, steps heavy with exhaustion. You glanced up from your book to take in his appearance, heart immediately going out to him.

His normally bright eyes were glazed and half-lidded, dark smudges underneath standing out starkly against his pale skin. Strands of hair, still slightly damp from his post-practice shower, had escaped his messy bun to frame his face in wispy tendrils. The black roots were starting to show through more prominently, bleeding into the bleached ends.

"Hey you," you greeted softly, setting your book aside and opening your arms in invitation. "Long day?"

Kenma made a vague grunt of affirmation, clambering onto the bed and immediately collapsing onto you. His chin dug into your sternum as he nuzzled close, seeking comfort, and you bit back a wince.

"We had morning practice, then classes, then more practice after school," he grumbled, voice muffled by your sleep shirt. "I think Kuroo is trying to kill me."

You made a sympathetic sound, fingers finding their way into Kenma's hair to scratch lightly at his scalp - something you knew always helped him relax. "I'm sorry, baby. That sounds brutal."

"Mmmph." Kenma shifted a bit until his head was pillowed more comfortably on your stomach, arms loosely curled around your hips. "S'okay. This helps."

Warmth bloomed in your chest at his admission. Kenma wasn't always the most verbally demonstrative with his affections, so hearing him say that - knowing he found solace in your arms - made you feel cherished.

For a while, the two of you just lay there like that, breathing together in the quiet stillness of the bedroom. Your fingers continued their soothing ministrations, gently combing through silky strands and lightly scratching at Kenma's nape and behind his ears. Every now and then he'd let out a barely audible hum, melting further into you as the tension gradually seeped out of his muscles.

These were some of your favorite moments - just holding Kenma close and feeling him unwind, knowing you were his safe harbor. Whether he was stressed from volleyball practice, drained from too much social interaction, or just stiff from too many hours hunched over a game - he always seemed to seek you out, craving your soft, grounding touch.

Usually, Kenma was content to rest his head in your lap while you sat propped against the headboard, dozing as you ran gentle fingers through his hair or massaged his scalp. Or he'd stretch out between your legs on his stomach, face pillowed on your thighs as you rubbed his back in long, firm strokes.

But today, as the minutes ticked by, you began to sense a restlessness in him, a dissatisfaction in the way he kept shifting minutely against you. His brow was furrowed, nose scrunching slightly, like he couldn't get completely settled.

"Everything okay?" you asked quietly, smoothing your thumb over the wrinkle between his eyebrows.

"Mmm." Kenma's answer was decidedly noncommittal. He turned his face more fully into your belly, nuzzling the soft pudge like a cat trying to make a bed more comfortable. "Just...I dunno. Can't relax."

He huffed out a frustrated breath that tickled your skin through your thin cotton tee. Then, in a move that surprised you, he pushed himself up on his elbows to frown down at your midsection almost accusingly. "It's too...this isn't soft enough."

You couldn't help it - a burst of laughter escaped you at his petulant expression, so at odds with his usual controlled stoicism. "Are you calling me bony, Kozume?" you teased, poking him in the side.

Kenma squirmed away from your prodding finger, nose wrinkling adorably. "No," he denied, but the flush rising on his cheeks said otherwise. "I just...I need..." He trailed off, clearly frustrated with his inability to articulate what he wanted.

Patient as ever, you just watched him, one hand rubbing soothingly up and down his spine as you waited for him to sort out his thoughts. Kenma's eyes darted around, landing everywhere but your face as he struggled for words.

Finally, he sat up fully, knees bracketing your hips as he hovered over you. His gaze roamed your body slowly, almost appraisingly, and you fought the urge to squirm under the intensity of it. When his eyes landed on your chest and widened fractionally, a glimmer of interest sparking in their golden depths, your breath caught.

Kenma licked his lips, an unconscious gesture that made heat prickle under your skin. He reached out a tentative hand, fingertips grazing the curve of your breast through your shirt. "Maybe..." He swallowed audibly. "Maybe these would be better?"

It took you a second to compute his meaning, brain momentarily stalled by his touch, light as it was. When it clicked, you couldn't contain your amused grin. "Are you asking to motorboat me, Kenma?"

"What? No!" His response was immediate and adorably flustered, cheeks going pink. He snatched his hand back like he'd been scalded. "That's not - I wasn't - I just thought -"

Taking pity on him, you gentled your smile and reached for his hand, guiding it back to your chest. "I'm just teasing, baby. Here..." Maintaining eye contact, you placed his palm more fully over your breast, shivering slightly when his fingers reflexively curled around the soft mound. "Is this what you wanted?"

Kenma's blush intensified, creeping up to the tips of his ears, but he didn't pull away. He nodded shyly, thumb rubbing almost reverently over your nipple. It stiffened under his touch, the thin fabric of your shirt doing nothing to mute the sensation, and you bit your lip to stifle a gasp.

"Well, in that case..." Reaching up, you curled your fingers into the loose collar of your sleep shirt and tugged it down a bit, exposing the gentle swells of your breasts. "Mi casa es su casa."

Your playful tone startled a laugh out of Kenma, breathy and warm against your skin. The sound made affection swell in your chest, bright and buoyant. He so rarely laughed fully; each one felt like a gift.

Slowly, giving you time to change your mind, Kenma lowered himself down until he was stretched out on top of you, head coming to rest on your chest. You felt his hesitant exhale, the flutter of his lashes against your skin as his eyes slid closed. A heartbeat passed, two, three...and then he relaxed fully against you, a sigh of bone-deep contentment escaping him.

"Oh," he breathed, sounding a little wondering. "This is...wow."

You couldn't help but agree. There was something profoundly intimate about holding him like this, his lean body a line of warmth against yours from chest to toes. You felt surrounded by him, enveloped. Safe. Cherished.

Winding your arms around Kenma's narrow shoulders, you pulled him incrementally closer and pressed a lingering kiss to the crown of his head. "Comfy?" you murmured into his hair.

"Mmmm." It was more a purr than a word, drowsy and utterly content. Kenma nuzzled into the valley between your breasts like he was trying to burrow into you. "Very. You're so soft. And warm. And you smell good."

Your heart turned over behind your ribs, so full of tender affection you thought it might burst. Kenma was rarely so artless with his praise, the sincere words made clumsy by impending sleep. It was painfully endearing.

"Glad to be of service," you whispered, unwilling to disturb the cocoon of hushed intimacy enveloping you. "Sweet dreams, lovely boy."

Kenma made a small, agreeable noise and you felt his lips curve into a smile against your skin. His limbs grew heavy and lax as sleep pulled him under, one arm curled possessively around your waist and a leg thrown over your thigh.

For a long while you simply held him, cheek resting against his silky hair, drinking in the peaceful rise and fall of his chest. Your fingers traced idle patterns over his back and shoulders, following the dips and planes of lean muscle and the delicate ridges of his spine. Each steady, trusting exhale fanning over your skin felt like a precious gift.

This beautiful boy, so reserved and guarded with the rest of the world, felt safe enough in your arms to let himself be vulnerable. To seek comfort and care without fear of judgment. Your throat tightened at the thought, overcome with tenderness.

Shifting carefully, trying not to jostle Kenma, you craned your neck to study his slack features. The ever-present furrow between his brows had smoothed out and his lips were parted slightly, long lashes fanned over his cheekbones. The late-afternoon sunlight filtering through the blinds gilded his skin and set his pale hair aglow, surrounding him in a hazy nimbus.

He looked so young like this, untroubled and ethereally lovely. You felt almost breathless with the need to bundle him close, to shelter him from anything that might dim the contented glow suffusing his face. Kenma carried tension in every line of his body, a quiet sort of melancholy that broke your heart.

If you could give him respite from that, even just for a little while...if you could be his safe harbor, his soft place to land when the world become too much...you would consider yourself the luckiest person alive.

Careful not to disturb Kenma's rest, you fished your phone off the nightstand and set an alarm to wake you in an hour. As much as you would've loved to let him sleep as long as he needed, you knew he'd be upset if he missed dinner. Growing boys needed their fuel, as he often reminded you with a wry smile when you questioned his truly heroic food intake.

That task done, you curled your body more securely around Kenma's, savoring the warm solidity of him in your arms. With a sigh of utter contentment, you closed your eyes and let yourself drift, surrounded by the boy you loved.

The shrill chime of your phone alarm roused you some time later. You groaned softly, nose scrunching in displeasure, and fumbled to turn it off. Beside you, Kenma stirred, making a sleepy sound of protest at being disturbed.

"Sorry, baby," you rasped, voice thick with disuse. You ran a soothing hand up and down his back. "Didn't mean to wake you."

Kenma grumbled something unintelligible and burrowed deeper into your cleavage like he could block out the world if he just tried hard enough. You bit the inside of your cheek, fighting a smile. Who knew Kozume Kenma was a secret cuddle monster?

The rumbling of your stomach broke the drowsy silence a moment later, seconded almost immediately by an answering growl from Kenma's. You huffed out a laugh, carding your fingers through the cornsilk hair at the nape of his neck. "Sounds like it's dinner time for us. Want me to order something?"

"Nooo." The petulant whine was muffled by your skin. "Don't wanna move. 'M comfy."

"I know, lovely, but we need to eat." You stroked your knuckles down the knobs of his spine, gentling him like a grumpy kitten. "Tell you what - if you let me up, I promise I'll order from that place you like with the apple pie. And you can use me as a pillow again while we eat."

There was a considering pause as Kenma clearly weighed your words. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head. Finally, he heaved a tremendously put-upon sigh and rolled away to flop on his back, one arm slung over his eyes.

"Fiiiine," he dragged out, peeking at you from under his elbow. "But there better be pie or I'm staging a protest."

"So demanding." You grinned, leaning over to smack a kiss to his cheek before sliding out of bed. "You're lucky you're cute."

Kenma's outraged sputter followed you out of the room, making you giggle into your palm. Riling him up was entirely too much fun. You knew you'd pay for it later - he'd probably rope you into being his player 2 for some new co-op game he'd been obsessed with - but it would be worth it. Time spent with Kenma was never time wasted.

When you returned to the bedroom, bags of takeout in hand, it was to find Kenma propped up against the headboard in one of your old, oversized sweatshirts, tapping away at his PSP. He glanced up when you entered, nose twitching appreciatively at the savory scent wafting from the bags.

"That was quick," he commented, setting his game aside to make grabby hands at the food.

"I may have bribed Yamamoto with a free teriyaki bowl to sprint over here. And before you ask, yes - I got the pie."

"My hero." Kenma's smile was tiny but genuine, eyes soft as he watched you unpack containers of gyudon and steamed veggies. "Have I mentioned lately that I love you?"

You paused, chopsticks hovering over a piece of beef, and tilted your head at him. "Are you talking to me or the pie?"

Kenma's lips twitched like he was fighting a grin. "Can't it be both?"

That startled a bright laugh out of you, head tipping back with the force of it. "Wow, okay, I see how it is. Nice to know where I stand."

Setting the food aside, you crawled up the bed and swung a leg over Kenma's hips to straddle him. His hands settled automatically on your thighs, thumbs rubbing circles into the sensitive inner skin. Cupping his face in your palms, you dipped down to touch your forehead to his, noses brushing.

"I love you too, you brat," you murmured against his mouth. "Even if I have to compete with baked goods for your affection."

Kenma's lips curved into a rare, full-blown grin, cheeks rounding out under your palms. "No competition," he said simply, tilting his chin up to slot your mouths together.

He kissed you slow and deep, a leisurely exploration that made your toes curl. Slender fingers crept under the hem of your- his shirt to stroke the skin of your lower back, making you shiver and press closer. You sighed into it, arms sliding around his neck as you sank into him.

After long, drugging minutes, Kenma drew back to rest his forehead against yours again. His eyes were soft and hazy when they met yours, full of quiet adoration. "Apple pie's got nothing on you."

The words were light, a little irreverent, but you heard the deeper meaning under them - the steadfast devotion, the promise inherent in each syllable. Your heart swelled, straining against the cage of your ribs with the force of your love for this beautiful, brilliant boy.

Unable to articulate the depth of your emotions, you simply kissed him again, winding your arms tighter around him as if you could fuse your bodies into one being. Kenma sighed against your mouth, melting into your embrace like coming home.

Later, bellies full and limbs heavy with encroaching sleep, you watched through drooping lids as Kenma set aside his empty pie tin with a satisfied sigh. He caught you looking and cocked an eyebrow, mouth curving into a lazy smirk.

"Good?" you asked.

"So good. That pie never lets me down." Kenma patted his stomach, then held his arms out to you in clear demand. "Now c'mere. I need my human pillow."

Stifling a laugh, you obediently crawled into his arms and let him arrange you to his liking - head nestled on your chest, arms banded around your waist to hold you close. He nuzzled his face into your softness with a contented hum, already boneless and pliant with impending sleep.

"Hey," he mumbled a moment later, voice muffled by your chest. "Wanna try something else…"

You pulled back slightly to look at Kenma, a curious tilt to your head. "Oh? What did you have in mind?"

Kenma ducked his head, peering up at you through his lashes almost shyly. A faint blush dusted his cheekbones, but there was a glimmer of heat in his golden eyes that made your pulse kick up a notch.

Slowly, deliberately, he slid his hands up your sides to cup your breasts, thumbs brushing over the peaked nipples through the thin fabric of the shirt. You inhaled sharply at the sensation, back arching into his touch.

"Just wanna feel you," Kenma murmured, gaze heavy-lidded and intent on your face. "Wanna make you feel good."

Your breath hitched, arousal unfurling hot and syrupy in your veins at his words. Wordlessly, you reached for the hem of your shirt and pulled it over your head in one fluid motion, tossing it aside. Kenma's eyes darkened, pupils blown wide as they raked over your bared skin.

Leaning down, you captured his lips in a searing kiss, licking into his mouth with purpose. Kenma groaned softly, fingers flexing on your breasts as he kissed you back just as fiercely before pulling back for air.

Kenma's heated gaze raked over your bare chest, pupils blown wide with desire as he took in the sight of your breasts. Slowly, almost reverently, he cupped the soft mounds in his palms, relishing the weight of them. His thumbs grazed your nipples, circling the dusky peaks until they pebbled under his touch.

Kenma's eyes were riveted to your chest, pupils blown wide and dark with desire as he took in the sight of your bare breasts. His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed hard, tongue darting out to wet his lips unconsciously.

"Can I...?" His hands hovered just shy of touching, fingers twitching with the effort of holding back.

"Please," you breathed, arching your spine in clear offering. "Touch me, Kenma."

Permission granted, he wasted no time in cupping the soft mounds again, relishing the weight of them in his palms. Your flesh spilled between his fingers, impossibly smooth and warm. He squeezed gently, wonderingly, thumbs grazing the dusky peaks and feeling them stiffen further under his touch.

Leaning down, Kenma traced the tip of his nose along the curve of your breast, breathing in the scent of your skin. He pressed open-mouthed kisses to the silken flesh, tongue darting out to taste you. Your breath hitched as he moved higher, laving the sensitive underside before finally closing his lips around the straining peak.

A low moan escaped you at the sensation of wet heat enveloping your nipple. Kenma suckled gently at first, tongue lapping languidly as he savored the feel of the taut bud in his mouth. His free hand palmed your other breast, rolling and plucking at the nipple until you were arching into his touch with a needy whimper.

Kenma released your nipple with a soft pop, blowing cool air over the damp flesh and making you shiver. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the rosy peak, glistening with his saliva and swollen from his ministrations. Pride swelled in his chest at how responsive you were to him, at the way you trembled for his mouth alone.

"So perfect," he murmured, voice low and rough with want. "I could spend hours just worshipping these pretty breasts. Sucking and licking until you can't take anymore..."

You keened high in your throat, fingers tangling almost desperately in his hair. "Please, Kenma..."

Compelled by your breathy plea, he dipped his head again to lave attention on your other breast. He licked broad stripes over the soft flesh, trailing the tip of his tongue around your areola before drawing lazy circles over the straining peak. Your answering moan was music to his ears, urging him on.

Kenma increased the suction, hollowing his cheeks as he suckled harder. He grazed the sensitive bud with his teeth, soothing the sting with flicks of his tongue when you cried out. He alternated between lapping kittenishly and sucking deep, until your nipple was red and throbbing, until you were writhing beneath him and panting his name like a prayer.

Only then did he release you, admiring his handiwork through heavy-lidded eyes. Both of your breasts were heaving, the flesh damp, nipples swollen and glistening obscenely. The sight made heat spark through his veins, desire throbbing insistently in his core.

"Kenma," you whined, back bowing as you shamelessly presented yourself for more. "Don't stop, please..."

"Shh, I've got you baby." Kenma smoothed his hands over your sensitive flesh, massaging gently. "I'm nowhere near done with you yet."

True to his word, he ducked back down to mouth at your nipple again, suckling ardently as his fingers plucked at its twin. He kept at it for long, blissful minutes, until the world narrowed down to the heat of his mouth on you and the ache building between your thighs.

Kenma's mouth was unrelenting against your sensitive flesh, alternating between soft suckles and firmer draws that made your toes curl. He seemed determined to map every inch of your breasts with his lips and tongue, leaving no patch of skin untasted.

You arched into the wet heat of his mouth with a throaty moan, your hands fisting in his hair to hold him close. Each pull of his lips sent sparks of electricity zinging down your spine, stoking the fire smoldering in your core. You could feel yourself growing slick with arousal, empty and aching for his touch.

"Kenma," you panted, voice wrecked and needy. "Feels so good, don't stop..."

He hummed against your breast in response, the vibrations making you gasp. Encouraged by your reactions, he redoubled his efforts, suckling harder and grazing the sensitive peak with his teeth. His tongue swirled around the pebbled bud, flicking rhythmically in a way that had you seeing stars.

Just when the pleasure was verging on too much, Kenma released your nipple with a final lingering lick. You whimpered at the loss of his warm mouth, back arching in wordless invitation. He soothed you with soft kisses peppered across the swell of your breast, hands kneading gently at your flesh.

"So perfect," he breathed reverently, nose nuzzling the valley between your breasts. "I could worship these for hours and never get my fill. Love how responsive you are, how easily you come undone for me..."

Your only response was a shuddering moan, head tipping back against the pillows as Kenma continued his sensual assault. He seemed fascinated by the weight of your breasts in his palms, the plushness of them against his lips. Like he was determined to memorize every dip and curve, every hitch in your breathing.

And you were more than content to let him take his fill, to lose yourself in the magic of his mouth as he laved attention on your aching nipples. Every draw of his lips sent molten heat flooding your veins, coiling tighter and tighter in your belly. You felt unbearably empty, desperate for friction where you needed it most.

As if reading your mind, Kenma released your breast with a final suctioning kiss. He raised his head to lock blown-black eyes with yours, his thumb sweeping maddeningly over your nipple.

"I've got you," he rasped, voice like gravel. His other hand skated teasingly down your stomach, over the trembling plane of your abdomen. "Gonna take care of you, give you what you need. Gonna make you feel so good, baby..."

The broken keen that spilled from your lips was completely involuntary, torn from someplace deep inside you. "Please, Kenma... need you."

The corner of his mouth kicked up in a small, wicked smile. He looked utterly debauched hovering above you, lips red and slick, golden eyes molten with desire.

Without breaking eye contact, he dipped his head to close his lips around your nipple once more. At the same time, his wandering hand slipped lower, fingertips grazing the lace edge of your panties. Your hips canted up in shameless offering, a silent plea for more that he was all too happy to answer.

Kenma took his time working you up with lips and tongue while clever fingers slowly teased your entrance, until you were writhing beneath him, until you were balanced on a razor's edge and begging for release. He brought you to the brink again and again, only to ease you back down, determined to wring every last drop of pleasure from your trembling form.

Through it all, his mouth never ceased its worship of your breasts, suckling and licking until you were boneless and overwrought. Until the world fell away and your entire existence narrowed down to the pull of his lips, the slick slide of his tongue, the feeling of his dexterous fingers sliding between your soaked folds.

And when his fingers finally delved into slick heat of your pussy and crooked just so, when his teeth grazed your nipple in tandem with a particularly devastating thrust, the coil in your belly snapped. Ecstasy crashed over you in a tidal wave, Kenma's name a broken litany on your tongue as he worked you through it, wringing out every last aftershock until you collapsed against the sheets.

Kenma released your breast with a final soothing lick, pressing a tender kiss over your thundering heart. He watched you come down with a soft, reverent expression, fingertips tracing idle patterns on your overheated skin.

"Gorgeous," he murmured, pressing his lips to your collarbone, your throat, the hinge of your jaw. "Absolutely stunning. I'm so lucky you're mine."

You hummed contentedly, threading your fingers through his hair to pull him down for a slow, sweet kiss. You poured every ounce of adoration and gratitude you felt into it, hoping he could taste the love on your tongue.

"I'm the lucky one," you whispered against his lips. Hooking a leg over his hip, you rolled your bodies until he was nestled in the cradle of your thighs, exactly where he belonged. "Now it's my turn to worship you."

[ghcstao3]

Ghost is being discharged after his luck ran out, now partially deaf with a knee he needs to watch.

At the ceremony is families of other soldiers getting ready to take them home. All cheering and happy to have their loved ones back. Among the crowd someone Price seems to recognise and smile at.

Once it's all over, Ghost is getting ready to leave when he notices the lone man talking to the others. Eventually coming over to him.

The scot is from the mechanics department, unable to enlist due to be partially deaf from his family. He's there to just talk to everyone leaving and hopefully give them a good moment before leaving the life they've grown used to. Ghost being one he wants to talk to as well.

Ghost wants to refuse the offer of a drink, but he's intrigued by this stranger so decides to take it.

Being alive for the end of his military career is something Ghost had stopped planning for a very, very long time ago. Yet here he stands, medically discharged with a bum knee and shit hearing, just wishing he could go home.

Price had claimed the socialization would be good for him ("Can't become a recluse in retirement, Riley"), and that it wouldn't hurt to give himself some proper closure, but Ghost begs to differ—he's exhausted, his leg hurts, and even just talking with his former captain has begun to feel draining.

So it's a great relief when the din of conversation begins to die down and Price reluctantly gives him the green light to leave—but it's at this point that, upon casting a cursory glance around the thinning crowd, the captain spots who Ghost must assume is a friend, by the smile and curt wave Price throws over Ghost's shoulder.

Curious, Ghost turns to follow Price's line of sight across the room, his gaze falling on a man he hadn't noticed prior, nor that he recognizes. The man raises a hand in acknowledgement of Price, his face friendly (and handsome) even half-turned and far away. He's helping with clean-up, in conversation with a few lingering veterans, though Ghost notes he isn't in uniform like himself, Price, and others; Ghost wonders how he and Price could be familiar.

But as he turns to ask, he finds that Price has disappeared on him, and now Ghost feels terribly awkward standing alone in the middle of a room he already didn't want be in with someone he knows.

Then someone clears his throat beside him, and Ghost suddenly finds himself face-to-face with Price's mystery friend, acquaintance, whatever.

"Hey," the man greets, sticking out his hand for Ghost to shake, "I'm John. MacTavish. But you can call me Soap."

Ghost eyes Soap's hand, but doesn't accept it. He arches a brow at the nickname. "The hell kind of a name is Soap?"

Somewhat to Ghost's surprise, Soap merely laughs, something loud and warm and bright. He offers a wry grin, the expression (charmingly, endearingly) lopsided. "Long story," he says, then pauses, briefly searching past Ghost like something's missing. "Saw Price was here with you, but he seems to have vanished, aye?"

Ghost can't help but snort. "Tell me about it. Bastard made me attend, forced me to stay, then left me alone," he mutters. "Thinks he's still my captain."

"Your captain, huh?" Soap's grin twists into a calmer, more tame smile—polite and considerate, like Ghost had seen him wear while chatting not several minutes before. His eyes, however, electric blue and brimming with the unknown, tell a different story, one that Ghost finds himself wanting to read. "What say you to drinks? If you'd be open to talkin' more, that is."

Ghost frowns. "You don't even know my name."

Soap shrugs. "I'd find out eventually."

"Presumptuous," Ghost replies, deadpan.

"I call it ambitious," Soap counters, teasing. He tilts his head, and only then does Ghost notice the hearing aid in one of his ears. "So?"

Ghost stares. "So?"

"Drinks," Soap reminds. "You look like you could use a nice scotch."

The former lieutenant considers the proposal, more inclined to say no—but a second longer of thought has Ghost wanting to unearth the mystery of John "Soap" MacTavish, strangely enough. So he nods, tentative, and does his best to ignore his hammering heart when Soap's face lights up as he does so.

"Make it a bourbon and you have a deal," Ghost says, and somehow that makes Soap beam even wider.

There, Price, Ghost thinks, as Soap leads him out of the venue, not as socially inept as you thought.

He just hopes that going along won't turn out to be a mistake.

[autisticsupervillain]

Autistic Avatars not realizing that they're Avatars because they're just "like that": a thread

The Eye

Special Interest in the supernatural = constant food for The Watcher

You know about Interest? TELL ME EVERYTHING

"Hey man listen to me infodump about this horrifying ghost story I read for twenty minutes, alright?"

I need to Know everything about something before I partake in it.

"How did I Know that? Eh, I probably hyperfixated on it at some point."

I cannot be misunderstood so I'll beam the facts into your brain.

The Web

I must plan everything 200 steps in advance before doing anything.

I have prepared for all possible outcomes, I can now have this one conversation.

If I set up all these variables long in advance, then I can do everything correctly and Win the social interaction.

I cannot do anything before The Plan says to.

"I practice my social skills by talking to my spider friends." -Martin "Autism" Blackwood

The Stranger

I cannot socialize without being Uncanny.

If my socialization seems like an act, that's because it is. I practice it in the mirror every day.

Theater Kid

How do you Normal Human?

The Anatomy Class.

Assuming fellow Stranger Avatars also just have the 'Tism. They're not trying to be creepy, honest.

Can't do faces. Doesn't notice when you get replaced.

Being subtly off is too subtle for me.

The Lonely

"I have failed the social interaction. Let the fog reclaim me."

Talking to people is draining my batteries even faster than ever. I need to be alone for approximately 384,400,000 years.

Nothing can overstimulate me in the cool, blinding fog.

Nothing unpredictable can happen in the fog.

The fog is your friend.

The known connection between autism and depression feeds the fog.

The Dark

Why is the sun so god damn bright? I'm going to blow it up I swear.

Night Owl.

Everything's decently quite at night and people leave you alone.

Same overstimulation preventatives as the Lonely tbh. Dark and fog are good concealers.

The dawn is your enemy.

The dread florescent lights shall never bother me again. They break upon my arrival.

Can and will infodump to the monster under my bed. Even now it feels like it listens.

The Spiral

Autism makes getting other mental illnesses recognized hard.

Autism dissociation from body and mind. When did it become 3 AM and why do I hurt? Why am I grumpy? What vital self care task did I forget?

Literal mind doesn't often match reality. Reality is specifically unspecific.

Spaced out and wandered off. Where the fuck am I?

I'm not a mental baby, please stop treating me like it.

I'm not inherently dangerous, please stop treating me like it.

Memory problems my beloathed. Did that happen? I dunno.

What Is Time?

What Is Me?

The Gender

Why do things only make sense to me? What does no one else make sense?

The Flesh

Autism Genderfuckery = Flesh fueled dysphoria.

Meat is the only texture that's palatable. Especially the Mystery Meat.

Will never try any other foods. Too picky.

Infodumps about the horrors of meat processing at dinner and ruins the meal for everyone. More steak for me.

Hates PETA.

Double the arms means double the stim. You weren't using them, right?

Working out is a great stim.

The Corruption

Practices social interaction with the bugs who live in my walls.

"Insects are disgusting. I love them!"

Will protect endangered insects by any means necessary.

According to all known laws of aviation-

Relationship boundaries struggles.

Difficulty noticing sickness symptoms.

Is that nausea or am I overstimulated? *Accidentally causes supernatural plague outbreak*

Difficulty getting diseases diagnosed because of both Autism and noticing too many symptoms so the doctors assume they're faking.

Forgot vital hygiene needs.

The Bugs Are My Friends! They keep me company when I'm sick!

The Buried

Weighted blankets are insufficient, I need the Earth to reclaim me.

Avoid social interaction by tunneling everywhere like a mole.

101 facts about worms.

Forgor hygiene again. Time to become dirt.

Digging a hole is good stimming.

That guy who had to be buried alive to sleep properly. What do you mean you don't want to be buried?

The End

Aradia Megido from Homestuck.Com

That's it, that's the list.

The Desolation

The Autism Temper.

Losing relationships and friendships to ableism and your own disability constantly.

The Fire is a wonderful stim board. Watch it crinkle.

Just watching candles melt for hours.

The fire and thrill gives my life passion again.

Jude Perry.png

The Vast

Accidentally terrifying people by infodumping about the horrors of nature.

The stimulus of falling.

Nature/Space/Weather Documentary on in background always.

Okay, but from how high did you fall? I want to calculate your velocity as you fell through the void.

Weirdly enough... power scaling?

Power scaling is just the art of determining how easily your favorite characters can destroy mankind so... yeah, I can see it.

Brain empty, only terminal velocity.

The Hunt

Cat Autism

The inherent hyperfocus of the hunt. The chase. Your prey.

Studying the habits of your latest hyperfixation/Hunt assigned prey for days at a time.

I've spent so much time hunting in the woods that I forgot about human society. The Missing Person's Bureau have written you off for dead.

Returning to society to sell your wears and realizing you aren't human anymore.

That's okay. Social interaction is random. The Hunt makes sense.

It's black and white. Predator and prey. Humans hunting monsters. It Makes Sense.

The Slaughter

The incredible human WW1 documentary.

"Did you know?" *Describes horrible historic warcrime*

Takes apart puts back together guns from their collection.

The list of known casualties from this war is incomplete. With my help, they can expand it. :)

The Extinction

The world is spiraling towards its end and only you seem to care.

It hurts to be this passionate about a lost cause.

You Will Make Them Care.

[headkiss]

Hi Anna, I'm a huge fan of your Steve writings:)) How about Steve x introvert!reader where they have a painting date night at one of their homes?🫶

hiii thank you so much!!! i hope u like it!! | 0.7k so fluffy

Steve is a romantic to the bone. When you first met him, he would’ve denied it to make himself cooler, but now, he wears it around you like a badge of honor.

He’s also ridiculously understanding.

Work today had been a lot, the bakery on main unusually busy with only two of you working. Not to mention you’d been working the front counter, when you’d much rather be in the kitchen making cookies and frosting cupcakes.

Drained is one way to put the way you’re feeling, the battery for socializing running lower and lower until it’s basically empty by the time you’re home.

Steve calls you like he knows exactly when you’ll be getting into your room, and you pick up despite your tiredness. There’ll always be room for him, you think.

“Hey, angel,” his voice loosens your tight muscles just a bit. “We still good for tonight?”

Back to him being a romantic, Steve insists that you go on at least one date a week, and it’s something that goes to show how much he cares about you and your relationship. He also calls you beforehand to check if you’re up to it every time.

You wince a little as you answer, feeling guilty for being tired and for wanting to stay in. “Would it be okay if we didn’t? I’m so sorry, work was a lot and-”

“None of that,” he cuts you off, “how about you just come here? Just me and you?”

“Thank you, Steve. I’ll be there in a bit, okay?”

“See you soon.”

Soon is the time it takes for a shower, getting dressed in sweats, and the drive over to his place. As you step out of your car, you worry that he had something special planned for today’s date, that you ruined that, but his beaming smile when he opens the door is enough to erase your worries.

“Hi,” he says, tossing an arm over your shoulders and tilting his head to push a kiss into your hair. “You okay?”

“Better now.”

Your arms wrap themselves around his waist, and though it’s awkward to walk through the house this way, neither of you make a move to pull away.

Steve leads you into the dining room, and your eyes well up just a little (maybe a lot) at what you see. He’s got a tarp laid over the table, two canvases set up on small easels right next to each other, and paint and brushes scattered over the table. Such a romantic.

“I thought maybe we could have our date here instead,” he tells you, rocking on his feet. Steve knows you better than anyone, and he knows that it can take a lot for you to be in social settings for a long time. He doesn’t care; the most important part to him is spending time with you, anyway.

So, he’s had some ideas for at home dates saved up for you. By the way your arms squeeze him tighter and you murmur his name, all delicate and surprised, he feels pretty good about it.

“Where did you get all of this? It’s barely been an hour since you called.”

“A magician never reveals his secrets.”

You lean up and kiss his cheek, the words ‘thank you’ pushed into his skin.

“Well,” he starts, his cheeks warming at your affection, “you wanna paint something?”

“Absolutely.”

It’s easy to get into the swing of things, dollops of paint squeezed out onto the tarp to use, cups of muddled water used to clean your brushes, and the sort of ease you’ve only ever felt around Steve.

You don’t know how he seems to understand exactly what you need without saying anything, how he accepts every bit of you without complaint, but you’re eternally thankful for it nonetheless.

He knows you the best, and he loves you the way only he could. In this big, huge way that’s in everything he does, even the way he paints the tip of your nose pink.

By the end of the painting session, you’re left giggling at Steve’s piece of art that looks like something a proud parent would put on their fridge.

“Whatever,” he says, fighting a smile at the brightness in your eyes and the laugh you’re hiding behind your hand. “It’s called abstract. Guess you just don’t have the eye for it.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah,” he cups your cheek in his warm palm, rubbing away a splotch of paint—one that he probably put there—with his thumb.

Your long shift feels ages away, long forgotten and replaced by paint stains on your clothes, a mess that neither of you can be bothered to clean up, and the all-encompassing feeling of being with Steve, of being known and loved by him.

[talesofesther]

souls tied, bound to burn | ch 1

Samantha Carpenter x Reader

Summary: Your move to New York came suddenly, in the hopes of getting closer to what was left of your family. What you weren't expecting was to fall for your sister's roommate, Sam; and little did you know, she'd be your doom, in the prettiest of ways.

A/N: I feel like this story is told in moments, but I do like how it turned out; it is, after all, a story that I poured my heart and soul into. This is one which took many of my sleepless nights, but it was so worth it bringing this idea to life. Cannot thank @iamnicodemus enough for basically being my beta reader and helping me with everything. There will be two more parts to this storyline, but I can't say when they will be posted, as I'm still writing them.

Word count: 10k (limit? never heard of her)

Masterlist

One thing that Sam was still trying to get used to after moving to New York was the lack of calmness.

She had just finished her session with yet another therapist, it was past 10 PM, and the streets were still as busy as ever. There was no shortage of cars or people passing by her as she walked back to her apartment. Sometimes it could be overwhelming and she couldn't get home fast enough. Sometimes it helped to keep her mind a little quieter.

Sam was still unsure of what it felt like today, maybe a mix of both.

Things haven't been easy after everything that happened in Woodsboro, every day the weight on her shoulders worsens and she has no idea how to even start dealing with it. It only became worse after the rumors started.

The steps up the stairs to her apartment felt like a whole workout, after working the entire day Sam was absolutely drained. The hunch on her posture and faint dark bags under her eyes said as much.

Nearing the door, she could hear faint voices coming from inside, one of them she didn't recognize. The tensing of her muscles was inevitable.

Sam turned the doorknob and slowly made her way inside, she closed the door behind her without turning around. There wasn't anything different about the place — TV turned on, cheap yellow lights in the kitchen illuminating the dirty dishes on the sink, low music coming from Tara's room — except Quinn was talking with someone on the couch.

Though Sam didn't know who it was, she already relaxed at the fact that there was no trouble in sight.

She ran a hand through her hair whilst walking to the kitchen, there were leftovers of dinner on two pans over the stove; but despite only having lunch on her stomach, she wasn't hungry. Picking up a clean cup, she filled it with water on the sink and gulped it down.

"Hey, Sam's home," Quinn announced with a chipper voice.

Sam closed her eyes with a sigh before managing a smile, she really didn't feel like socializing right now. But she turned to Quinn anyway.

The girl was perched over the back of the couch, waving Sam over, "come here, I want you to meet someone."

Involuntarily, Sam's eyes drifted to the one who sat beside Quinn; it was a girl she had never seen before, but the gentle smile on her lips made Sam hesitate in her steps. She did walk up to them though, making herself comfortable on the loveseat beside Quinn.

"Sam, this is Y/n, she's my sister," Quinn motioned to you with a grin.

"Sister?" Sam's eyes were huge as she looked between you and Quinn.

"Well, half-sister," Quinn concluded, "it's a long story."

You then gave them a tight-lipped smile, raising your hand in an awkward wave whilst looking at Sam, "it's uh- a pleasure to meet you."

There were several question marks twirling around in Sam's head, but the biggest one seemed to be why she found herself quite trapped in the way the images on the TV highlighted the lines of your jaw, cheeks, and lips. "I'm Samantha- Sam," she stumbled out quickly.

Quinn raised her eyebrows in amusement, a beat of silence passed before she tilted her head towards Sam, "yep, that's Samantha Sam."

The older Carpenter kicked herself internally about ten thousand times. That was awful.

A weird weight filled the air after that. Sam didn't know what to do with herself, she didn't know if she should stay or just go and lock herself in her room. She ended up settling for pretending to watch the TV while you spoke with Quinn. From what Sam heard, you had just arrived in town and were staying in a hotel until you could find an apartment, because apparently, your mother had left a significant amount of money in your name; she also overheard that you were yet to go visit your father.

When it was nearing midnight, you decided to leave, saying something about it already being too late.

Sam watched as Quinn walked you to the door and bid you goodbye with a brief hug. And before the door clicked close, your gaze caught Sam's and you gave her that same gentle smile she'd seen earlier; all the same, it froze her, and Sam saw herself just staring back at you with an emotion even she couldn't place.

Quinn dragged herself back to the living room then, laying down on the empty couch to wait for the inevitable interrogation.

"I didn't know you had a sister," Sam started eventually, mindlessly switching through channels. The room was dimly lit, with the only other lights coming from the kitchen, the brightness of the TV hurt her tired eyes.

"Neither did I."

At that, Sam's attention was fully on Quinn, her brows furrowed.

Quinn shook her head, dismissing the worry, "I mean, I knew, sort of," she explained, "she's from a fling my dad had before he met my mom, I think they broke up when she was born and her mom took her to Boston. Never met her until like, yesterday."

Now, the pieces from what Sam had heard were starting to come together. She wondered just how detached you were from this side of your family until now. "And your father never told you had a sister?"

"He did, in passing, sometimes I heard the calls he'd give her to check in. But she's always been distant," Quinn shrugged.

Sam mulled over the words in her mind, part of her couldn't help but feel wary, "why is she here?"

"Her mother died, she has no other family left."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It didn't take long for Sam to bump into you again. It happened actually only two days after your visit to Quinn at their apartment.

It was a mildly calm afternoon at the coffee shop Sam worked at. At least for a Thursday, it felt calm. Just a few booths had people sitting on them, and every few minutes someone would stop by to grab a cup of coffee to go.

What the place lacked in fanciness it made up for in coziness — between her shifts here during the week and at the bowling alley on the weekends, it was easy for Sam to pick a favorite, nothing beats the vibe of a coffee shop — the place held warm tones to its decor, brick walls here and there with a few black boards hung up that had order choices written on them with white chalk; there was also a vintage radio on the corner that Sam always sneakily changed the songs of.

Against her own beliefs, she became rather good at preparing lattes and cappuccinos. She mentioned it to Tara once, and the girl said she'd believe it once she drinks it; Sam has been waiting for her to stop by.

Though as with everything, it wasn't perfect. Even before the rumors blaming her for the murders started, Sam was already an outsider, not quite allowed to fit in. She had no friends amongst the staff, only colleagues; and after the rumors, she even considered that to be a stretch.

Sam doesn't mind. She tells herself as much every day before walking in for work. But feeling judgemental eyes burning into your back at least once a day tends to take its toll on someone.

So she keeps to herself, she does her job, and she tries not to give them more reasons to bother her.

The small bell above the door dinged as someone came in, pulling Sam back to the present when she realized she would be the one taking the order.

She straightened her posture and smoothed down her uniform, looking around on the counter for her notepad and pen. Upon finding them, Sam finally glanced up and felt her breathing get momentarily stuck, the usual 'what can I get for you' dying on her tongue.

Part of Sam thinks she'd ironically recognize you anywhere. She realized you had that about you, something that felt unmistakable.

Same thing that happened to her apparently happened to you as well, as your lips hovered yet no words came out. It was that weird moment of I know you but I don't actually know you yet.

You were the first to talk, and Sam wanted to thank you for it. "Hey," you chuckled, somewhat awkwardly, "it's uh- Sam, right? It's nice to see you again."

Try as she might, Sam wasn't able to hold your gaze, she glanced down at her hands before looking at you again, "that's me," she gave you a small smile, "can I get you anything?"

"Yeah…" You dragged on, stuffing your hands on the pockets of your jeans as your gaze skimmed over the order options, "just a simple cappuccino to go, please." You eventually decided.

Sam felt your eyes on her as she scribbled your order down, even if it was just a cappuccino, she had the habit to write them all down. "Coming right up," she said, before turning around to make your order.

Ever since she started working here, she has probably made more than a hundred cappuccinos; yet she found herself checking things twice over. Espresso, steamed milk, foam. Everything carefully poured down on the cup.

You were standing right where she left you once she brought the order to you. That same gentle smile she saw two nights ago was present on your lips when you paid her and bid her goodbye.

Secretly, Sam wondered if you'd be back some other day.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It was never your plan to come to New York, let alone on your own. But tragedy strikes when you least expect it.

When, on one of his monthly calls to check in on you, you broke the news to your father that your mother had passed, he told you you should come live closer to him if you wanted to. And honestly, not feeling so alone in the world felt appealing.

So you packed everything you had of value, and took the leap. You had your mother to thank for being able to simply do that out of nowhere, she'd left everything of hers in your name, including her company's income.

But money hardly solves all problems, because you never actually met your father's side of the family. All you had were his phone calls, where he would sometimes briefly mention a sister you'd get along with if you were to meet, and not much else.

Upon knowing you'd be coming to the city, he gave you Quinn's contact, promising she would help you find a place to stay. You weren't exactly keen on meeting your sister for the first time all by yourself, but Quinn had been surprisingly easygoing; telling you all about how cool it was to have a sister instead of another brother. And the question 'I have a brother too?' lingered on your tongue, but you thought it would be a weird thing to ask. That was a few days ago, and you settled in a hotel for the time being.

In any way, you had a lot of catching up to do.

And now, anxiety was bubbling relentlessly in your stomach and you clutched tightly at the straps of your backpack. The police station was kinda busy at this time of day, but it was exactly the time he asked you to come in, so you did.

You didn't know exactly what to feel other than anxiety. How is one supposed to feel when they're about to see their father for the first time in their life?

It's a weird situation, though you couldn't really blame your mother for it; yes she took you away shortly after you were born, but from what she told you, she and your father didn't end on the best of terms. From the moment you were born, she'd been protective.

You reached the front desk, worrying your lower lip between your teeth. "Hello," you greeted the woman there.

She glanced up from the pile of papers she'd been sorting out, "hi there, what can I do for you?"

"Um- Detective Bailey asked me to stop by," you explained, and the woman in front of you raised an unamused eyebrow. Even before saying it, the words already felt somewhat strange in your mouth, "he's my father."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

Your first two weeks in New York were hectic. Meeting a whole new side of your family was a strange experience, but you'd say it went well. Quinn was the easiest of all, she treated you as if you were one of her friends from university and you appreciated it. Ethan was distant, he was kind and polite, but you could tell he didn't want much to do with you. Your father was, essentially, what you expected him to be; he was kind and attentive, obviously a little awkward just as you were, but he seemed to genuinely care about you; as much as one can care about a daughter they'd never met.

Quinn had been quite insistent on having a sister bonding time with you, so you'd find yourself at her apartment more often than not. This led to you being acquainted with Mindy, Anika, and Chad, who were around just as much as you; plus Sam and Tara, of course.

The youngest of Quinn's roommates took an instant liking to you. Your personality matched Tara's quite well, you were happy to hear every gossip she liked the share about her colleagues at the university and the usual rant about her sister.

Sam, she was not an easy one to read; at first, you thought she might not even like you, but Tara explained that 'that's just how she is, she'll warm up to you eventually'.

Maybe that was part of the reason why you found yourself creating a habit of stopping by a certain coffee shop — after all, they served delicious food and drinks and the place was really cozy; the doe-eyed brunette who worked there was a bonus.

You'd usually stop by later on in the afternoon, when the sunlight had that deep golden glow just an hour or so before disappearing behind the horizon. It was a time of day the coffee shop was a little more crowded, but not as much as it was in the mornings.

Every time you walked in, you found yourself involuntarily looking for Sam; deep down feeling like a schoolgirl with a crush because of the butterflies that invaded your stomach whenever she remembered your order.

You quickly realized the importance of details with Sam. The more you came to eat at the coffee shop, the slightly more comfortable she became with you. It started with her serious expression changing to a small smile whenever she saw you, then she started greeting you by your name, and recently, she has been drawing little smiley faces on your cup.

The usual booth you'd sit at was tucked in a more reserved corner, just beside one of the windows; you liked the privacy. Each time that Sam brought your cappuccino and apple pie, you held yourself back from asking if she could sit down and have a coffee with you.

Maybe tomorrow, you'd think to yourself.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The smell of freshly made lasagna filled the whole apartment. If you had a good enough sense of smell, you'd be able to tell it was just the slightest bit burned, but no one seemed to care.

Mindy and Chad could be heard bickering about how to properly take said lasagna out of the oven without causing a disaster, Tara was opening up a cheap wine bottle while Anika set the dining table, and Quinn was switching through channels on the TV.

It was a pleasant sight for someone who wasn't used to many of those.

Sam had just gotten out of the shower, towel in her hands as she finished drying off her hair. She had managed to get out of work earlier today and ditched therapy so she could have dinner with her found family — which honestly felt more like therapy than actual therapy.

A chuckle escaped Sam's lips when Mindy called her brother a moron with a halfhearted slap on the back of his head.

And then, three soft knocks came from the front door.

"I got it," Sam told them, hanging her towel over her shoulder as she got over to the door and steadily undid all the locks in it. She knew who it was, Quinn warned you'd be coming for dinner today too. Sam felt a little childish when anticipation started twirling in her stomach.

Selfishly, Sam wanted to think that this specific smile of yours belonged to her.

"Hi," she greeted you with the same softness you stared back at her with; for the second time today, the first being at the coffee shop. Sam figured she wouldn't mind seeing you more often, "come in, dinner is almost ready."

"Hey Sam," you smiled timidly as you walked past her and inside the apartment.

Sam has known you for a little over two weeks, and there should be alarms blaring inside her head for the way she felt so naturally drawn to you. But there wasn't, there was only the softness of your presence and the way she wanted to drown in it.

"Hey new girl," Mindy called, her voice ringing loudly through the room as she peeked over from the kitchen with a grin, "you like lasagna?"

"Of course," you grinned, taking off your jacket and failing to see the way Sam's gaze lingered a little too long on you, "who doesn't like lasagna?"

Mindy pointed a finger at you, "right answer," she quipped before disappearing back into the kitchen.

Sam awkwardly cleared her throat next to you, "let me take this for you."

You glanced beside you to see the girl subtly gesturing for your jacket, unsure if the redness of her cheeks was a trick of the light or not. "Oh, thanks, Sam."

"Alright y'all, dinner's on the table," Mindy announced, getting everyone to flock to the dining room.

It was maybe after the second or third time you'd stopped by that you had unconsciously assigned a seat for yourself at their table. Ironically, it was the one beside Sam.

If you were being honest with yourself, you had a lot to thank this peculiar group of friends; if it wasn't for all the laughs they managed to pull out of you at each dinner, maybe settling in on the new city wouldn't have gone so smoothly. They sure took away the feeling of loneliness that had been steadily collecting in your chest ever since your mother passed.

And you had found a reason to like every single one of them; Mindy was naturally funny and made you feel as welcome as if you'd known her your whole life, and so did Anika; Chad was the exact opposite of what you'd picture him to be, sharing his sister's tendency for kindness; Sam was… you couldn't find a word to describe her quite yet, maybe entrancing could work; and Tara, well, you'd just found out tonight she shared your penchant for horror movies.

That's how, after dinner, you found yourself laying with Tara on her bed as you watched a movie of her choosing.

"You know, I'm glad you decided to come to New York," Tara told you out of the blue, the sound coming from her TV almost covering her voice.

Her room was dimly lit, the only source of light being the TV itself and a small lamp on her desk, you could barely make out her features. "I am too, I'm sure glad I met you guys."

Tara chuckled fondly at that, "Sam seems to like you," she told you quietly, her voice sounding as if she was letting you in on a pretty secret, "she could use a friend, you know."

You caught the hidden words in her soft tone. You weren't blind to how lonely Sam tended to be sometimes. Isolating herself even in a room full of people who cared about her.

Though it stunned you for a brief moment that Tara was asking that of you, you wondered if she saw something you didn't. At this point, you already knew of their story, at least partially; from articles online about the Woodsboro killings, and consequently, from the rumors circling around about Sam. Needless to say, your heart broke for them.

"I'd be happy to be her friend, if she'd have me," you meant it.

The movie extended longer than you predicted and Tara was already dozing off on your shoulder by the time the credits rolled. So you carefully turned off her TV and sneaked yourself out of her bed, your steps as light as a feather touching the floor.

You closed the door to her room with extreme delicacy and only as you turned around, did you notice the absolute darkness of the rest of the apartment.

It looked like everyone had already called it a night.

The only thing illuminating your steps was the soft orange glow coming in through the windows from the street lamps outside. The apartment held an eery silence to it, the clean plates and cutlery you all had used earlier rested on top of the table, there was an occasional sound of water droplets falling from the kitchen sink, and the red numbers of the clock on the coffee table read 12:37 AM.

The darkness and silence were a striking contrast to the commotion from earlier.

You opted for turning on the lights in the kitchen so you could look for your jacket and go home for the night; though after a good five minutes of unsuccessful searching you were almost considering leaving without it. That's when a soft, barely there whimper caught your ears.

It got a cold shiver running up and down your back, momentarily making you imagine yourself in a horror movie.

Until your eyes landed on the bigger couch of the living room and you saw Sam; she was curled up there, fast asleep with her hands under her head and knees tucked up to her chest, looking much smaller than she actually was, just barely being highlighted by the kitchen light.

You couldn't help the swelling of your heart. She was undeniably endearing.

There was the sound of a siren passing by in the distance. You looked out the window by instinct, but you couldn't see where exactly it came from.

When your eyes settled back on Sam, you found her clutching at the cushions under her head, a frown etched unpleasantly on her eyebrows. Her hair was messy, you realized; maybe from tossing and turning too much.

You were genuinely not sure what got into you, it's not like you have enough intimacy to even be seeing her like this. But you crouched down in front of her, one hand coming to rest gently on her shoulder.

Before you could even fully touch her, Sam was already stirring awake. Her body was visibly tense and her eyes a tad too wide and alert for someone who just woke up.

"I'm… sorry," you said quietly, feeling embarrassment crawling up your neck and to your cheeks, "sorry I woke you up."

Sam held herself up with her elbow, her free hand running through her messy hair. She wasn't looking at you, attempting to regulate her unsteady breathing.

You could see it from the way her chest moved up and down quickly. And there you followed a single drop of sweat running down from her neck to her collarbone. The night was far too cold for her to be sweating.

You wanted to reach out, but didn't. "I was just wondering where you put my jacket," you continued when she remained quiet.

Sam felt bare in front of you, somewhat timid. There were goosebumps rising on her skin. She nearly didn't find her voice, "I'll go get it for you."

You waited for her by the front door, shifting on your feet. She came back with your jacket in her hands, clutching tightly onto it so you wouldn't catch the shaking of her fingers. But you did, you also caught onto the hollowness of her eyes and the hair clinging to her damp forehead. You knew it wasn't your place to ask, but Sam looked so alone in the darkness of the apartment, that you feared she might let herself be swallowed by it the moment you leave.

"Are you okay?"

Sam's expression did something complicated, unsure of how to feel. Several beats passed in silence, as if she was considering how to answer you. Eventually, she nodded softly, "I'm alright, just tired from work."

It was a half-truth. You had been there today when a group of teenagers came into the coffee shop, one of them casting accusatory glances at Sam as he whispered — quite loudly — the word 'murderer' to his friends. You weren't able to wave her goodbye after that. She stayed hidden in the back.

Maybe your heart felt something it wasn't telling you yet, because it was hurting, for her. "For what it's worth," the words rolled off your tongue in a soft whisper, "I don't believe them."

Sam's lips parted, her mouth going dry and her doe eyes glinting with a sudden vulnerability. The grip she had around your jacket tightened.

Your smile was bittersweet this time, "the rumors, I don't believe them."

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

"I don't think I see you," you spoke on the phone, squinting at the evening sun shining on your eyes as you walked the busy streets of New York.

Last night your father had called you just before he left the police station, asking if maybe you would like to have an afternoon snack with him today; stop by at a popular bakery to catch up on lost time.

You felt an unfamiliar warmth on your chest at the request, agreeing promptly. He was trying to form a connection with you, and honestly, it was something you wanted too. You already lost one parent, you didn't fancy losing the other.

"I see you."

He spoke over the phone.

"Look to your right."

You followed his instructions and sure enough, he was on the other side of the street, his arms up and obnoxiously waving you over so you'd see him.

A chuckle escaped you as you hurriedly crossed the street, tucking your phone into the back pocket of your jeans. You smiled tentatively then, slowly closing the distance between you and him without knowing if you should lean in for a hug or extend your hand for a shake.

Bailey decided for you, he was opening his arms before you even reached him.

The hug was brief but welcomed. He kept one hand on your shoulder when he pulled away, seemingly taking a good look at you as a sincere smile appeared on his expression; "thank you for coming, I know we've never been too close, but I would like us to be."

You reached up to the hand he still had on your shoulder and squeezed his wrist in reassurance, "I would like it too."

That was enough to cut through the awkward bits of tension still lingering between you. Part of you felt like you were fifteen again, giddy for having your father dedicate a whole afternoon for you and you only.

It didn't make the pain of losing your mother go away, but it engulfed it into something more bearable. Something you could get used to.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It was about an hour after lunch that Sam received a rather urgent call from Tara. The only words she managed to focus on were "asthma attack" and "inhaler at the apartment."

The problem? Sam was basically on the other side of town.

Her first option was Mindy, but the girl wasn't picking up her phone. And then neither was Chad. Her last resort was calling her own apartment in the hopes that Quinn was home and could drive to the university with Tara's inhaler.

The line ringed, and ringed, and ringed. Until…

"Hello?"

The thought about why she recognized your voice so easily flew by. "Y/n?" Sam stopped in her tracks, forcing the other people on the sidewalk to walk around her.

"Sam?"

"What are you-"

"No, I didn't break into your apartment."

Sam heard your chuckle from the other end of the line.

"I stopped by to bring something to Quinn."

"Y/n, I need you to-" Sam took in a deep breath, running a hand through her hair and gripping at the roots of it. She closed her eyes tightly, "Tara is having an asthma attack and she left her inhaler at the apartment, could you ask Quinn to-"

"Sam, calm down."

Your soft voice made Sam realize she was having trouble breathing.

"Breathe, okay? I'll take it to her, I'm less than five minutes away by bike, I'll let you know when I get there."

Sam bit at the inside of her cheek, nodding even though you couldn't see it, "thank you."

Only mere minutes passed by — though they felt much longer than usual — until Sam received a text from you, it read 'hey' and she could see you were still typing.

Sam held onto her breath and only released it once you sent her the next text, which read 'all is good'. Instant relief washed over her and she leaned back on the wall of the random store she was standing in front of.

Her cellphone vibrated again, and this time it was a picture of you and Tara making silly faces while you held her close.

The smile that came to Sam's lips was as big as ever, her heart beating painfully against her ribs as if it was trying to leap from her chest and into the screen of her phone; all so it could reach you.

Sam typed back; 'I owe you one.'

She held back on sending a heart emoji.

It was becoming increasingly harder to deny the way she started feeling about you; how you seemingly occupied a place in her heart no one else could have; or how she hoped to see you walk into the coffee shop every day, because, on the off chance you didn't, something felt out of place, missing.

Maybe it was time for her to do something about it.

And the opportunity presented itself on the very next day.

It was a cloudy Tuesday afternoon, the coffee shop lacking its usual golden rays that came through the window at this time of day. There was a slightly colder breeze in the air, it came through each time a new customer opened the door and it forced Sam to wear her jacket on top of her uniform.

Sam had been anticipating your arrival ever since the clock hit 4 PM, which was the time you usually stopped by. She couldn't help looking up at the door each time she heard the bell above it.

It scared her, to take a chance like this. Trusting people with your heart only opens room for them to break it. She knows it.

But oh you made her want to turn a blind eye to every single risk, and fear, and doubt.

Sam wondered, for a moment, if destiny was playing with her. Because when the clock hit 4:47 PM you walked through the coffee shop's doors and the sky just so happened to have a crack in its clouds, casting a faded glow that bathed you aureate for a moment.

Sam's eyes were unfocused, caught in a daze that was only broken when you were already standing in front of her.

"Good afternoon, Sam," you smiled, your cheeks flushed from the cold wind outside.

"Hi," Sam stumbled out, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear as she cleared her throat, "the usual?"

"Please," you confirmed, already reaching inside your backpack for your wallet, but Sam's hand on your forearm stopped you.

The touch of her skin on yours felt electric. Sam pulled her hand back quickly, timidly curling her fingers to try and keep the feeling of you a little longer. "This one is on me," her voice wasn't nearly as confident as it needed to be for that line.

You were about to open your mouth to protest, but she beat you to it; "please, let me do this. As a thank you for you helping Tara yesterday."

A sly smile crept into your lips, your eyes roaming over Sam up and down before you spoke; "only if you drink something with me."

Your boldness surprised Sam, in the best of ways. She was burning up inside, her heart working overtime to keep up with her feelings. Despite the cold, she felt suddenly warm.

"I have a break in ten."

When Sam brought your order to your table — the usual table in the far right corner near the biggest window — she sat down in front of you. She carefully placed down your cappuccino and apple pie before closing both her hands around the simple cup of coffee she had for herself.

You took your time with taking a sip from your drink, closing your eyes when the slightly sweet, warm beverage hit your tongue.

Sam followed each movement, from the way your fingers closed around the mug to the way the corner of your lips lifted just the smallest bit after tasting the coffee she made — for a moment you were all she could see. Though she shook herself off of it pretty quickly, realizing how it might be creepy. Sam took a generous drink of her coffee as well.

"Do you like it?" Came the sudden sweetness of your voice, "working at a coffee shop?"

A faint smell of burnt bread reached Sam's nose, it was probably Enrique forgetting about the oven again. She could hear loud chatter happening at the entrance of the coffee shop, it was probably the five students who usually stopped by at this time of day. Sam was hesitating. Between apartment visits because of Quinn and everyday meet-ups for her to make you coffee, Sam didn't plan for herself coming this far with you.

"Could be worse," were the words that eventually escaped her mouth, "beats the bowling alley."

You chuckled, a lovely sound as you sheepishly glanced down, your thumb tracing the edge of your mug. Sam wanted to pull her cell phone out and trap this moment in time; it felt precious enough to do so.

"I definitely prefer coming to coffee shops instead of bowling alleys," you smirked.

Sam somewhat mimicked your smile, "are you liking New York?"

You hummed, choosing to take a bite of your pie before answering, "all things considered, I am. It's a lot of getting used to," you had a faraway gaze out the window then, leaning your chin on your hand, "meeting a whole new side of my family is… strange. But we're getting along surprisingly well, I've been going out with my father at least once a week, Ethan is more distant but still nice whenever we meet, and, well, I've been visiting Quinn quite regularly, as you know."

Sam took in each of your words, softly nodding along, "it's good one of us is feeling at home, sort of." She gulped, mulling over her next words, "you know you're welcome at the apartment whenever. Tara adores you… everyone does."

If you caught Sam's 'I adore you' you didn't comment on it. Instead, you asked; "how are you settling in? Tara mentioned you guys moved in only a few weeks before I did."

That had Sam holding back a sigh. She leaned back on her side of the booth, "feels like all the shit that happened in Woodsboro followed us all the way here."

Some days were better than others. Some days the weight on her shoulders felt more bearable and the people around her weren't as menacing with their baseless accusations. Some days were worse.

"I'm sorry about everything that's been going on the internet about you," you said.

Sam met your eyes and found there a gentleness no one had ever looked at her with.

"You don't deserve it, Sam."

Being with you was as easy as breathing. For a fleeting moment inside the walls of the coffee shop, there were no rumors crucifying Sam for something she didn't do; there were no bad memories taking her sleep at night; there were no permanent scars marking her skin — there was only Samantha, the girl who had almost forgotten what it felt like to just worry about which words to say next to impress the girl she developed feelings for.

And if she went to bed that night with the ghost of a smile on her lips because you kissed her cheek goodbye earlier, that was nobody's business but hers.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

"Guys, what do you say we order pizza for tonight?" Sam threw the idea into the night.

It was nearing 7 PM and it was a Saturday, meaning it was the unofficial girl's night of the week. Sam, Mindy, Anika, Tara, and Quinn sat together in the living room of Sam's apartment watching a random action movie. Dinner time was nearing and none of them really fancied cooking tonight.

"I think it's a good idea," Mindy agreed, leaning back on the couch and pulling Anika with her, "do you think one is enough for the five of us?"

"Six," Sam spoke without looking up from her phone, already searching for the pizza place's number, "I invited Y/n over."

Save for the movie playing in the background, there was a sudden silence in the living room. It stretched on until Sam found the number and looked up to see everyone staring at her.

A frown slowly came to her eyebrows and she chuckled awkwardly, fidgeting with her phone, "what?"

"You invited her?" Quinn started.

"You two have been growing quite close," Mindy added, an all-too-knowing grin on her lips.

Tara had her lips hung open, being the last one to catch up on her sister's painfully obvious crush.

"We're… friends, she's nice," Sam shrugged, feeling herself grow self-conscious with the attention and involuntarily curling in on herself a little. She got up from the couch then, deciding to go make the call to order the pizza outside in the hallway as she figured she wouldn't have much peace inside right now.

She put on her house slippers and walked to the front door, hearing Mindy shout; "I've heard that before," right as she closed the door behind her.

Sam found herself slowly roaming to the lobby as she spoke on the phone, a cold air came from the entrance doors of her apartment building as she spoke on the phone, making her hug herself to preserve the warmth.

The pizza would be arriving in about thirty minutes, and just before Sam turned around to walk back inside to the coziness of her apartment, her cell phone dinged with a message from you letting her know you were here.

Sam saw herself smiling at the screen of her phone, at the small heart emoji you added beside the text.

The main doors of the entrance hall hinged as you walked in, and the first thing Sam noticed was that you were quite underdressed for the weather outside; only a thin jacket kept your body warm, your hair was all tousled from the wind and you had your hands buried in the pockets of your sweatpants. Still, you smiled brightly when you spotted Sam coming towards you.

"Aren't you cold?" Sam chuckled as she met you in the middle, coming to a stop a little closer to you than she should. Her eyes involuntarily roamed up and down your body, always engraving the image of you in her mind as if it was the first and last time she'd be seeing you; even if she has known you for nearly two months now.

"You bet I'm cold," without much of a warning, you brought one hand up and cupped Sam's cheek; the coldness of your skin contrasted with the warmth of hers.

Sam shivered from head to toe, and it wasn't because of the coldness of your fingers, for she could feel her cheeks warming up even more.

Unable to hold your gaze as she did so, Sam took hold of your freezing hand, "come on, let's get you warmed up. I ordered pizza."

You followed her willingly, nuzzling against her shoulder as you walked.

You're both not sure when this newfound intimacy happened. But you weren't complaining. Your heart was so full of Sam that you could hardly call it your own anymore. And Sam doesn't know what happiness means if it isn't written with the letters of your name.

Though it wasn't until a whole week later, that you did something about it.

This Friday was a rainy one, the skies had grey clouds looming over everyone on the streets as heavy raindrops fell steadily. Water splashed around people's shoes as they walked, holding their coats close to their bodies and their umbrellas above their heads.

Sam didn't have an umbrella. She'd given hers to Tara this morning because technically she wouldn't need it, she'd catch a ride with one of the nicer coworkers at the coffee shop when it was time to leave.

Sam was walking in the rain.

She never made it to 7 PM, which was usually the time she'd get off work. Her boss had dismissed her much earlier today; 'it doesn't look good to have a barista covered in coffee' was what he'd said.

Now, the huge coffee stain on her shirt was barely there, being replaced by the water falling from the sky. The pouring rain had already soaked through Sam's clothing; it trickled down her chin and made her hair stuck to her forehead. It was cold, she was shaking, and her fingers were becoming numb.

Today had been one of those unfortunate days. It was a group of teenagers, Sam can't exactly remember what they looked like; she had been the one to bring their orders to the table, and when their eyes met hers she could instantly see the hatred there. Various false accusations left their lips as one of them 'accidentally' spilled their coffee all over Sam. Today wasn't a good day.

Sam didn't know where she was going to, she was almost sure she was walking in the complete opposite direction of her apartment. She didn't stop, keeping her head low in hopes the rain would completely engulf her being.

"Sam?" The call of her name sounded like a hallucination at first. Too sweet, and too far away to be real.

"Sam!" Now it was closer, clearer between the heavy raindrops hitting the pavement.

It made Sam look up, one hand brushing over her eyes to clean the rain stuck to her lashes. Instantly, she forgot how to breathe.

You were coming towards her, one hand holding your coat and the other holding a faded pink umbrella above your head. You looked distressed, there was a frown on your eyebrows that Sam wanted to smooth away with her fingers.

Between the smell of coffee on her shirt and the rain on her skin, Sam had forgotten this was the time you usually came to the coffee shop.

Sam was suddenly shielded from the falling rain. You had to stay close so your umbrella would cover both of you. "Sam…" Your tone was sorrowful as your evident worry escaped you, "what are you doing out here like this? What happened?" You looked her up and down, taking in her purplish fingertips, her soaked clothes and hair, and the barely there coffee stain of her shirt.

The image of you in front of Sam started to blur over; she opened her lips to speak, tasting the raindrops there, yet the words were clogged up on the lump in her throat. A feeling of shame was crawling inside her guts, piercing through her heart for having you see her like this. Sam avoided your eyes, focusing on her boots instead.

Your sneakers inched closer and Sam felt your gentle fingers pushing away strands of her wet hair; the softness of your touch amidst all the harshness she was used to nearly made her crumble.

"Did someone do this to you?" You asked even softer.

Another beat of silence, and then; "I don't know why they hate me so much." Was all Sam told you, her voice nothing but a whisper that broke in the middle.

In the same heartbeat, with the hand that wasn't holding your umbrella, you took hold of Sam's waist, pulling her body close to yours in a warm embrace.

Sam clung to you as if you'd vanish into thin air any minute. Both her arms instantly came around your shoulders in a close-knit grip as she bunched the fabric of your coat between her fingers.

You adjusted your hold around her waist, mimicking the same strength she held you with. Part of you knew she needed to feel that kind of reassuring pressure, shielding her away from reality.

Her body was worryingly cold, the wetness of her clothes was seeping into your own but you couldn't find it in yourself to mind. Because Sam buried her head into the crook of your neck and you could feel steady wet drops falling into your skin, and you knew they weren't from the rain.

Sam's sobs were muffled against you. And as her body trembled in your hold, your heart shattered.

"Let me take you home," you whispered, your lips brushing the skin of her shoulder until you placed a kiss there.

Sam's grip on you tightened, bringing your bodies closer together if that was even possible. "Okay."

And you did take her home. Sam only didn't imagine that when you said home, you meant your apartment, not hers.

To say your place was better than Sam's would be an understatement. Your apartment wasn't overly luxurious, but it was evident that it was expensive.

Admittedly, Sam felt out of place. Not necessarily in a bad way; only in the way that you were clearly much better off in life than she was, and it made her feel a little self-conscious to think she'd been fantasizing about a chance with you, when, admittedly, you could do better.

You let go of your umbrella but kept holding onto Sam's hand, leading her to your bedroom, "come on, let's get you some dry clothes."

Your bedroom was the most 'you' room in the house. There was a double bed in the middle, a dresser, a desk with a computer and a whole lot of other things on top — books, a collection of pens, a couple of sketchbooks, small fantasy figures such as soldiers on horses and dragons — a mirror just beside the dresser, a bookshelf, and several pictures and fairy lights stuck to the walls. Everywhere Sam looked, there was a bit of you.

She hovered in the middle of it all, shaking from head to toe because of how cold her body was, and hyper-aware of the water still dripping from her soaked clothes and into the wooden floor.

You rummaged through your dresser until you found a comfy pair of purple sweatpants and a hoodie of the same color. You handed them to Sam, "the bathroom is just down the hall, feel free to take a shower and warm yourself up okay? I'll be in the kitchen."

Sam gulped down the lump still stuck in her throat, nodding along with your words, "thank you, you didn't have to do all this," her voice still held that same rawness to it, though the corner of her lips quirked up.

You let out a breathy chuckle, tilting your head to the side as if she just spoke a foreign language. "Yeah I did, that's what people do when they care about each other."

Under the warm orange glow of the fairy lights of your bedroom, Sam could count the specks of color in your eyes. She could drown in the ocean that was you and everything you made her feel.

Sometimes, you look at each other as if you're about to kiss.

Sam wondered if it was the same for you when she caught your eyes drifting to her lips. Before she could figure it out, you were sheepishly avoiding her eyes and walking off to the kitchen.

When Sam walked out of the bathroom, her skin now warm and her hair with the smell of your shampoo, you had just finished making two mugs of hot chocolate.

You heard her bare feet approaching you, felt her lingering gaze on your back. You could tell Sam wasn't allowing herself to be completely comfortable here yet. You hoped to change that.

Turning around, you were met with the endearing sight of Sam in your clothes, her hair still damp and cheeks now flushed from the hot water of the shower. She looked like your favorite dream.

You walked up to her, handing her one of the mugs, "now it's my turn to serve you," you winked.

Sam closed both hands around the mug, an inevitable chuckle escaping her.

You leaned back on the counter of your kitchen, hearing the rain that still poured outside hitting the windows. "Feeling better?"

Before answering, Sam took a sip of her hot chocolate, humming at the sweetness and warmth of it. "Much better."

"You can stay as long as you'd like," you told her, because you knew she needed to hear it.

Sam's thumb traced the rim of her mug. You could see her lips pulling thin, feel her uneasiness.

"I would like you to stay, Sam."

Thunder started rumbling in the distance as the rain picked up even more. Sam would be stuck with you for a while; maybe you should make the most of having her all to yourself.

You put down your mug and pushed yourself away from the kitchen counter. Sam could be fragile sometimes, you realized; there was a part of her that always remained guarded, waiting for the next blow to come. Yet you could almost feel the desperate calls of her lonely heart.

When you took a step closer to her, Sam didn't take one away from you, and it was all the confirmation you needed. She had a white-knuckled grip on her mug, though it relaxed immediately when your hand enveloped hers and you took the mug, putting it aside on the counter.

Sam was holding herself as stiff as a corpse; if you were anyone else, she would have taken her chance already, but you were you, and the fear that she might fuck it up spoke louder. Her eyes followed each of your movements though, her pupils blown wide and reflecting the vulnerability of a heart that started beating for you, for you, for you.

Both your hands eventually reached up to her cheeks, your fingers tracing her jaw and your thumbs brushing the skin beneath her eyes.

Inevitably, Sam melted in your hold, a breath leaving her lips as she closed her eyes for a beat. No one ever held her as if she was something precious. You always did.

First, your lips met her forehead in a kiss that felt like a promise. Then, your nose brushed hers when you leaned in; your breaths mingling as your hands found the back of her neck to pull her in.

You were gentle, so much so that Sam hardly felt your lips. You guided her into a chaste kiss, just a touch of your soft lips that fitted perfectly with hers. So perfectly, she'd dare say you were made just for her.

Small as it was, the gesture of affection got Sam grasping at your waist; her hands holding onto you with the same desperation as before. As if happiness, for her, was limited.

Sam didn't dare open her eyes when you pulled back. It was foolish, but she wanted to utter those three words just for the fact that you didn't go far, choosing to keep your forehead leaning against hers.

"Are you sure?" The words stumbled out of Sam's lips in an unsteady whisper as she took to memory what it felt like to have you this close.

You pulled away and she felt like crying.

It was only enough so you could look into her eyes, and there you saw everything she didn't want you to see. In those dark doe eyes that shone with the dim lights of your kitchen; you saw her fear, her loneliness; you saw the way she thought of herself as a person who doesn't deserve to be taken out of the rain, but who longs for someone to do so anyway.

"More than I've ever been in my life," you whispered back, pulling her in before you even finished speaking. You clashed your lips together, not holding back this time, because if she didn't believe your words, she would believe your touch; she would believe the way your hands tangled in her hair and how your tongue brushed over her bottom lip, tasting the lingering sweetness of hot chocolate there.

Yet, between each breathless kiss, you'd mumble, "I promise."

And Sam would hold you more firmly, her arms encircling your waist as she traced a path down your neck with her lips, confessions rolling off her tongue.

You had her at your mercy; she was yours. But you were hers too.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

It's been fifteen minutes already. Fifteen minutes of Sam glaring at her phone as if it would relent and type the message for her.

"Sammy, this is getting sad," Mindy popped a popcorn in her mouth, side-eyeing Sam's figure; who was huddled in a blanket on the couch beside hers, "just ask her already."

"Yeah, I will," Sam groaned, hugging her blanket closer to her chest, "just… finding the right words."

"The words are: 'do you want to go on a date with me? Yes or no?' Simple." A popcorn flew in Sam's direction as Mindy explained, "stop making a big deal of it, it's not like you guys never went out together anyway."

Sam pursed her lips, staring at the little picture of you in her contacts. It's true, you've met for outings multiple times already; but there was something more now, an incessant swarm of butterflies in her stomach whenever Sam thought of you.

"It's different," she said quietly, "I don't wanna mess it up." Her vulnerability dripped from each syllable.

Mindy softened at that, forgetting about the movie playing on the TV and properly turning to look at her friend; "you won't mess it up, Sam. She likes you, everyone can see it."

It felt nice to hear the words out loud, it made them all the more real — as if your make-out session from a few days ago wasn't enough. Sam could feel her cheeks growing warmer by the minute as she finally typed her message and hit send before the small bit of courage went away.

Mindy had been right, after all.

That night, Sam took you out for dinner and a movie; classic, but she learned that you loved the classics. Especially when you pressed your lips to hers again before saying goodbye, in a kiss that Sam would be happy to live in forever.

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵

The stairs that led up to her apartment weren't the most comfortable seat, but the empty hallways provided much-needed peace.

Sam buried her head in her hands, clawing at the roots of her hair. Her shirt was still damp, the smell becoming annoying. She could feel the back of her eyes stinging but she gulped back the feeling.

"You know you don't always have to wait for me down here."

It was almost magical, how your voice sent a wave of easiness through Sam's body. It was almost as if you carefully reached inside her chest and took away the burden there.

You were walking up to her, a smirk on your lips and a backpack hanging from your shoulder, "I know the way to your apartment."

Sam mimicked your smile, getting up with more haste than usual and meeting you halfway in the empty hallway. She didn't give you much of a warning before bringing you into a searing kiss, her hands cupped your cheeks and she had your bottom lip trapped between hers; chasing the feeling only you could give her.

A gasp escaped you when she collided with you. Your giggles got muffled by her lips and you took hold of her waist to steady yourself.

It's been four months since Sam started calling you hers. Four months since she's been able to gloat because you're her girlfriend. Four months in which she's been the happiest she's ever been in her life.

"I missed you," she spoke against your lips.

You kissed the words, frowning playfully, "you saw me this afternoon."

"Exactly," Sam's smile stretched further, "too long," and then she was leaning in again, and again, and again.

Sam could be intense sometimes, but you knew how to recognize when she was doing it for fun, or to forget about something else.

You took hold of one of her hands then, breaking the kiss she had you trapped in so you could place one to her knuckles, "is that cherry coke I smell on you?"

"Maybe," she dragged the word, her fingers intertwining with yours.

"Are you making a habit of having people throw drinks at you?" You raised an eyebrow at her before squeezing her hand reassuringly, "what happened?"

Sam let out a halfhearted groan, shrugging her shoulders as she avoided your eyes, "just some conspiracy psychos… and Tara is pissed at me."

"Did you guys have another fight?" You asked sympathetically.

"She was at this party and I tased a guy who was trying to take advantage of her, and now she's mad at me," Sam distracted herself by playing with your fingers as she spoke, "keeps telling me I should let her go."

In your four months with Sam, you learned how protective she could be of those she cares about, especially after what happened in Woodsboro. You learned that because you were now on that list too. You'd lost count of how many guys she threatened because of you already, each time you went out for drinks together and a strange dude decided to try his luck with you Sam would pull out her taser and aim it right where it hurts most.

In truth, you understood both sides. Yes, Sam could be overprotective sometimes; but she had her reasons.

"Family can be complicated, I would know," you pushed back strands of Sam's dark hair, never having enough of how she leaned into your touch, "but Tara will come around soon."

You felt the shape of Sam's smile on your palm right before she placed a kiss there. Part of you lived only for these sweet, precious moments.

"Hey guys," Chad's voice suddenly broke your peaceful bubble. You and Sam looked up to see him on the stairs, "come up here, quick."

Sam walked into her apartment holding onto your hand, and her grip only tightened when she saw what everyone was watching on the TV.

A student from Blackmore University had just been murdered, Mindy recognized him from their film studies class.

Tension lay heavy in the room, but especially, it radiated off Sam; you could feel it in the tremble of her hold on your hand when the reporter spoke about the several Ghostface costumes left at the scene of the crime.

⋆* ☾ ⋆*･ﾟ:⋆*･ﾟ

Thank you for reading this little story. Feedback and reblogs are literally what keep me motivated to continue posting here, so I’d appreciate it if you could take some time to reblog and comment if you want. <3

Sam’s taglist: @milkiane @v1ci0us @alexkolax

[jangofettjamz]

The Birthday Boy

Jenna Ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: You finally get to celebrate your birthday for the first time, and with the one you love.

Words: 1552

Y/N POV

Today is my birthday. I've never really celebrated it; family never really bothered. Now that I'm older it just seemed more insignificant. No one to celebrate it with, and let's be honest and no one wants to celebrate it on their own.

Jenna was out working, I never told her when my birthday was because I didn't want to interrupt her filming schedule, she's already got enough on her plate she doesn't need to worry about getting me gifts for my birthday she has a career to grow.

I've turned 20 today; Jenna turning 21soon. 20 years feel a bit surreal not gonna lie, crazy to think it's been that long since I was born. I try not dwell on that to much, it'll just send me spiralling.

I do wish I had a good birthday though, the feeling of being celebrating. I know this may sound narcissistic, but I always wanted to be celebrated, have a day just about me. I wanted to feel like everyone could come together and show support for me even if it was just for one day, I never had that kind of love growing up so I'd like to know what that's like, though I doubt it'll happen.

My father never paid any attention to me growing up, saying I was too much of a hassle to put up with. You know you have a bad parent when they have to "put up" with you  instead of loving you unconditionally, but hey beggars can't be choosers, right?

Me thinking about how life could've been was making me depressed so I decided to go out for breakfast, I got dressed and got the keys to my car and went out get food.

On the way there I get an incoming call from Jenna, thought she would've been busy this morning so this was a pleasant surprise. I answered but kept my eyes on the road.

"Hello darling, how'd you sleep" she asked, she knows I don't sleep well when she's gone.

"Um... I slept okay, probably could've got more sleep though. I'm just going to that Italian place we went to a month ago for some breakfast. How's shooting going" I asked, she's currently filming for her new movie 'death of a unincorn' with Paul Rudd.

"Filming's going great, Paul's really cool and I can't wait for you to meet him, he's knows you're a marvel fan too." She giggles mischievously, that little minx.

"Jenna why'd you say that." I whine feeling embarrassed.

"Aw babe, don't be shy he thinks you're really cool." She says reassuringly.

"Yeah sure he does" I say sarcastically, making her laugh. "Do you know when you'll be home?" I miss her dearly, I need to see her soon.

She let's out a sigh, I brace myself for bad news. "Sorry, sweet boy. I won't be back for another week." I let out sad sigh and a whine, I missed her alot.

"Hey, hey, don't be upset baby boy, I'll be home before you know it and we'll have so much fun together. The week will go by quick I promise." She cooed, she always knew what to say to put me at ease.

"Alright sweetie I have to go, drive safe for me and I'll see you very soon." She blew a kiss through the phone "I love you, sweetheart"

"I love you too, Jenna." We end the call and I continue my journey.

I arrive at the restaurant, this is gonna drain my social battery for today so I hope I don't have to to anyone that much, I just wanna get my food, eat then leave.

I ate my food peacefully, the staff were wonderful, definitely going there again for breakfast. I leave the restaurant and do some birthday shopping for myself, figured I may aswell treat myself to something nice for my "big day"; I sound miserable.

I'm pulled out of my thoughts when I feel my phone vibrate, a few text messages from some of my friends and cast mates from scream 5 and 6. I read them and I was shocked, how did they know...

Jasmin

Hey Y/N/N, hope you're having a lovely birthday. Can't wait you see you soon.

Devyn

Howdy stranger, happy birthday my love, you're 20! Hope you're doing well and I'll see you soon... very soon. 😈

Mikey

Looks like someone has a birthday today... AND YOU DIDNT TELL ME! HOW DARE YOU! Besides that betrayal I miss you so much Y/N, happy birthday my sweet.

Mason

Hey man, looks who's 20 years old! Happy birthday bud, hope you have a good one.👍

Melissa

Hey hey, it's the birthday boy! Happy birthday honey, you deserve the best birthday in the world. All the best from me and my husband.

Jack Quaid

Hey buddy, happy 20th birthday! I miss you alot pal, Karl and Antony send their birthday wishes too. Hope to see you soon, buddy.

I was shocked; flabbergasted even. How did they know, they couldn't have possibly...unless. I looked the last message, it was from Jenna, the mastermind behind this.

❤️Jenna❤

Hi baby boy, guess who found out when your birthday is! You never told me when it was but I asked around and viola! Happy birthday sweet boy, I promise we'll see each other very very soon. I love you so much, sweetheart.❤

That little minx... this is why I love her so much, I can't begin to express how much I love her and this just solidifies that. I sent her a message back saying I love her and continue to the mall.

But as I walk to the shopping mall I see three woman who look very familiar, they're wearing party hats too. No... no way... it can't be...

Jenna POV

The look on Y/N's face is priceless, he looked shocked, excited, and emotional at the same time. I think me, Jasmin and Devyn did good on surprising him.

"JENNA?!" He says with glassy eyes.

"C'mere sweetheart" I say and open my arms, he runs towards me and I wrap him in a tight hug.

"I missed you so much" he said while crying, he's such a cutie oh my god.

"Aww sweetie, I missed you too, so much honey. I've been tracking you on Life360 and we intercepted you here. Happy birthday my love, I know you don't like big crowds so I brought Devyn and Jasmin with me" they spoke up.

"Happy birthday, Y/N/N. It's so good to see you, I've missed you alot." Devyn says making him smile widely.

"It's been too long since we've seen you Y/N, how have you been?" Jasmin asks. He lifts his head from my neck and speaks.

"Better now that you guys are here, I haven't really been feeling the best since I've been on my own, I'm so glad you're here Jenna." I hold him and rub his back in comfort.

I want him to really enjoy his birthday today, I already have stuff waiting for him at home. I think he's gonna love it. "Let's go do some shopping and then we'll go home, I have a surprise for you." His eyes lit up and I kiss his cheeks.

- 2 hours later

Y/N drove behind me as we made our way back home. Jasmin and Devyn went home soon after we shopping. We park up to the driveway and he joins me at the front door.

"Close your eyes, birthday boy" I ask and he looks at me with caution.

"What are you planning now, Ortega?" He asks me; suspicion in his voice.

"Just close them silly" he obliged and I take his hand to guide him to his surprise. We reach the living room. "Okay, open your eyes sweetheart."

He opened them and is met with countless presents ranging from: action figures and Lego sets from their favourite franchise, new clothes, PC parts and much much more. I wanted to spoil him and make up for the 20 years of birthdays he missed out on. He looked like he was on the verge of tears.

"Jenna... is this all mine?" He asked, still not believing that he finally had a proper birthday.

"All yours, sweetness" I hug him as tight as I can, he cries into my shoulder out of, what I can only assume, happiness. "Don't cry honey, it's okay. That's all for you because I love you so so much, you deserve this my love, you deserve the world." I cooed softly.

"Thank you so much" he said through his cries.

"You're so welcome, my beautiful birthday boy." I say then kiss his forehead, cheeks and lips.

"Wait here, baby boy" I head into the kitchen and grab his cake. I light the candles and head back into the living room.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Y/N, happy birthday to you." I sing and he blows out his candles.

I cheer and set the cake on the table. He smiled so brightly, he finally got to have a real birthday to celebrate.

Happy birthday Y/N.

A/N

Not my birthday, but I thought it'd make a good story. I hope you enjoyed.

[x0x0josephinex0x0]

hi okay so idk if your reqs are open rn (if not oops im really sorry) but pls plsplspls could you do svt with a socially exhausted introverted s/o (just coups if not svt) (this is totally not based on me and how absolutely tired i am of social gatherings) please only do it if you are inspired and have time! Dont force yourself!!! Also lysm youre doing great

ABSOLUTELY I will do this for you (also hi very rude of you to call me out like this, i am ur resident socially exhausted/overstimulated introvert gf) but since you brought up cheol I can't stop thinking about it for him and it fits so well! so here you go my lovely!! so: cheol with his socially exhausted s/o, or you can't filter your thoughts when you're peopled out and accidentally tell seungcheol you want to marry him (and maybe have his kids) gn reader, this is all meant to be comforting and cute, there are mentions of gambling at the beginning, pet names are used (baby, honey).

It's seven in the evening and Seungcheol has to settle a bet.

"Sorry guys. It's over." He throws in his cards, tosses some spare bills onto the table, and grabs his coat while the other boys groan.

"You owe me $50," Vernon says in English to Joshua, who shakes his head in disappointment.

Seungcheol decidedly will not be telling you about how the guys had bet how long you'd be able to last at your social engagement before texting him to come get you. Almost nobody had had any faith in you, and Seungcheol privately hoped they were right because you'd been so busy lately and he'd been missing you, but he knew that you'd be grumpy about people betting against you.

He's almost giddy, skipping to his car and humming along to the music as he drives to come pick you up, but that all changes when he sees you. Normally, not even your introverted nature can keep you from lighting up when you saw Seungcheol, but all you can manage is a tired smile and a wave as he pulls up to the curb where you're waiting.

"Hey baby," you call to him as he hops out of the car to open your door. "How was game night?"

"Boring," he says, wrapping you up in a hug, partially because it's true and partially because he knows how guilty you'll feel if he tells you he was enjoying himself and you pulled him away. (Never mind the fact that he'd leave his own presidential inauguration just to pick up a flower you liked.)

Seungcheol feels you slump against him, and he chuckles. "Tired?"

"You have no idea." This has been a busy and demanding work week for you, not to mention that your family recently moved closer to spend more time with you, and while you're very close, your sometimes demanding social battery is drained, leaving you exhausted, more irritable and emotional than normal, and prone to long episodes of dissociation in public. Even now, you can feel yourself begin to tear up. "I'm sorry for stealing you away."

He sighs, exasperated. "Let's get my baby home to rest."

He keeps one of his hands in yours as he drives. "Thanks for coming to get me," you say as you lean against the side of his car.

"Of course, honey," he says, keeping his eyes on the road. "Thanks for calling me."

If there's one thing Seungcheol will always do for you, it's unconsciously erase all of your anxiety around being a burden. It was one of the reasons it was so easy for you to be around him -- you felt so safe with him. He never made you feel like any favor you asked of him was too much, and he always made it seem like such a privilege to love you the way he did, without you ever even having to say anything. It's this thought that has you smiling at his profile, watching him as he drives until he gives you an uneasy look. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"Yes," you reply easily. "You're a fine man, Choi Seungcheol."

"Did you drink tonight?" he asks.

You swat his arm. "No, I'm just too tired to filter my thoughts. And my thoughts are saying that you're really pretty."

"You are pretty," he says quietly, smiling to himself. "But thanks."

"You're welcome," you say, settling back into the seat and closing your eyes.

By the time you arrive home, you're feeling calmer and less scattered. After parking in the driveway, Seungcheol comes around the side of the car to open your door again. "Can I carry you inside?" he asks hopefully.

"Now?" He's been asking this since you moved in together. "I'm okay, really."

"You look reeeeeeeeeeeally tired," he begs. "What's the point of all this gym stuff if not to carry you across the threshold of our shared residence?"

"Save it for the wedding night, Seungcheol," you tell him, and then the both of you freeze.

Because really, that is the reason you haven't let him yet. Of course, you hadn't planned on telling him that until much, much later, but once again, your social battery being on 5% has gotten you into trouble.

But Seungcheol doesn't seem worried -- in fact, he seems kind of...proud? "Okay," he says staunchly, his chest puffed out. "I will save it for the wedding night. Amazing idea, baby."

You groan as you take his hand to let him help you out of the car. "Forget I said that."

"Not a chance," he says. "Don't worry though. I know you're tired, so I'll wait until tomorrow to ask you about wedding colors."

"Shut up," you giggle.

Seungcheol ushers you into the house and locks the door behind him, following you into the living room where you collapse on the couch. He laughs at the way your face is smushed into the couch cushions before padding into the bathroom and starting the water. You listen as he bumps around the bathroom, too tired to move your head to look at him, but a few minutes later he comes into the living room and crouches beside your face. "Come on, honey," he says quietly, his eyes overwhelmingly kind.

So you take his offered hand and let him lead you into the bathroom, where there is a candlelit bath with rose petals waiting for you. "Is the water okay?" he asks, a little nervous as you test it with your finger.

"It's perfect. Thank you."

"You're perfect," he says softly before leaning in to press a soft kiss to your nose. "I'll be waiting in bed for you."

Seungcheol closes the door quietly behind him as he leaves the room. You, for your part, are once again wondering where you found a man like him as you strip down and slip into the warm water, letting yourself fully unwind for the first time in a week.

You stay in the bath for nearly an hour, but it pays off -- you leave feeling much less frazzled and drained. You're still tired, though, and you're sure Seungcheol can see it on your face as you enter your shared bedroom clad in your pajamas, because he opens up the covers he's already under and motions for you to come into his arms.

You comply, nuzzling your head into his chest like a cat with its favorite patch of carpet, and he brings a broad hand up to cradle the back of your neck -- the spot where he knows you get your tension headaches, which he massages for you on days like today.

"Feeling better?" he asks softly, kissing your forehead.

"Yeah," you say. "Thanks."

You just lay there quietly for awhile, relishing the feel of his hand rubbing firm circles into your neck. You appreciate that he refrains from asking about your night, knowing you may need some time to process before you'll be ready to talk about it. But you know he's wondering, so you decide to give him something, even if it's not much. "It was really fun," you tell him. "It's just been a long week."

"I know, baby." He kisses your forehead again. "I'm impressed with you for going and for how long you stayed. And it's good progress that you called me before you got too overstimulated."

You chuckle. "It was either come home or start throwing things and maiming people."

"You made the right choice," Seungcheol says, and you can hear the grin in his voice.

The moment is so perfect you want to freeze it in time: this man with his arms around you, in the low light of the bedside lamp, and the way you can just be around him without any demands. Your damaged filter, on the other hand, has other plans. "I don't know what I'll do when our kids just want me to be around all the time," you worry aloud.

Seungcheol's arms tighten around you. "Our kids?" he asks quietly, and you cringe.

"I'm exposing myself majorly tonight," you say.

"No, no, it's alright," he says, obviously trying to conceal how gleeful he is. "This version of you is...something else. I really like it."

"I'm sure you do," you grumble, but you muster the strength to look him in the eye. "Just so long as we're on the same page, I don't really mind you knowing I want to marry you and have your kids."

"We are most definitely on the same page," Seungcheol states firmly, leaning down a bit to kiss you. "I was on that page forever ago, so I'm glad you finally caught up."

And as he kisses you again, you think that as long as you've got him to love you whether or not you're capable of controlling your thoughts, any potential bumps in the road you might experience will be alright.

[crownedtargaryen]

cruel summer. - modern!jacaerys

Part 1 ; Part 2 ; Part 3 ; Part 4 pairing: modern!jacaerys x modern!stark reader (a/n): I’m going to preface this by saying this part is mostly filler to establish their dynamic and how the story will go for a while. this story i made while listening to cruel summer - taylor swift and i’m not sure how to feel about it. also, thank you @daenerysapologist for giving me the idea of hockey player Jace. I love it. rating: NSFW 18+, this chapter doesn’t have anything NSFW though. prns: she/her all notes are appreciated. words: 1k tag list: @hopelesswritergall @twizzy123 @howyouloveyourdragon @fairysluna

It's been a long few years here at Iron High, learning to adapt to the new social norms that change almost every week, trying to remember who's on top and who isn't when it comes to popularity, and of course… Tutoring the Iron High hockey captain, Jacaerys Velaryon.

I look at him as he leans back in his chair and looks up at the ceiling. It's been weeks and I swear I've heard the same jokes a million times from him. And the most frustrating part is? He laughed at himself. He finds HIMSELF hilarious! If that doesn't scream self-centered jock, I'm not sure what does. He must think he's the funniest son of a bitch at this school. He has beautiful brown hair and curious brown eyes that remind me of beautifully crafted bark on trees.

"Hey, Stark! Are you listening? Did you get the joke?" I hear him say breaking my thoughts. I stare at him, narrowing my eyes. Maybe his eyes remind me of dog shit instead.

"How many times do I have to tell you? I'm not here to listen to your jokes, I'm here to teach you High Velaryon. Now, can we focus? If you fail this class, you know the repercussions," I remind him. He's only tutoring with me because he needs at least a C to pass, and currently, he's failing. If he doesn't pass, no hockey for him. His whole social life and reputation down the drain faster than it started. He frowns for a moment before leaning forward, smiling that cheeky and flirtatious smile he always does. This is when he's about to say something extremely obnoxious or excruciatingly unnecessary to the conversation.

"What do you call an alligator detective?" He smirks, and I stare back. You know what? I'm not giving him this one.

"An investi-gator. You're not clever. Can we just work on the assignment now?" I groan, watching his eyes widen.

"What?! You can't steal my joke!" He sits back, being playfully offended. I raise a brow as he acts like a drama queen. I can't help but smile. A small laugh escapes me. As he looks into my eyes, his eyes widen. There's something in his gaze that I can't place, a shimmer in his eye that wasn't there previously. His staring before speaking makes me uncomfortable."You just laughed!" He seemed excited, placing his hands on the table and standing up, knocking his chair over. "Holy shit you laughed!" He seems like he's just won the lottery. I furrow my brows.

Denial is now my best friend. "No, I didn't," I say casually, continuing my work. He glares at me. I can feel it on my head. "I think you're going crazy, maybe we should call this tutoring session early." I look up at him, closing my book and putting my papers in my folder. He opens his mouth to speak, but I softly shush him and touch his lips. "Shh, it's alright. The stress is getting to you. You're imagining things. It's for the best. I know, I know. You'll miss me so much." I put my things in my bag, throw it over my shoulder, and push in my chair. I watched him pick up the chair that he'd knocked over. I turn to leave but hear him speak, in a tone I've never heard before. It seemed eager and desperate.

"Y/N, can I give you a ride home?" Jace suddenly asked. When I examined his features, he still looked awestruck and almost pleading. I sigh, hating that I'm giving into his pitiful look.

"Fine. But you have to listen during the next tutoring session. Deal?" I turn around and watch as his expression glows with pure excitement. I feel a smile grow on my face, which I cover with a cough. He quickly agrees and rushes over, offering me his hand. I look at him like he's stupid, moving my palm to his shoulder and pushing him forward to lead me to his car.

I sit in the passenger side of his vehicle, a sense of regret washing over me as he starts his car and pulls out his phone. I expect some rap, some SoundCloud-level shit, and maybe even something he's made himself. What he puts on surprises me.

"Are you in a romantic mood?" I ask, raising a brow. He gives me a cheeky smile and turns up the song without another word. I can't help the grin that comes to my face as he proceeds to scream the words to a song that I'd never expected to come out of his mouth. "Kiss me once 'cause you know I had a long night, kiss me twice 'cause it's gonna be alright," he says, looking over at me and grinning like an idiot. I laughed, grabbing my phone and recording him, seeing if he falters in shame. He doesn't, he stays strong. "Three times 'cause I've waited my whole life! ONE, TWO, ONE TWO THREE FOUR! I like shiny things but I'd marry you paper rings! Uhuh!" He looks at me as he grips the wheel, urging me to sing along. The only thing I can do is laugh as he gets stronger than ever. Jacaerys Velaryon is the last person I'd expect to see singing Paper Rings by Taylor Swift, but I can't say I'm upset. The entire way home he sings his heart out, the windows rolled down. The regret I'd felt previously has now disappeared as I enjoy my time with him. Maybe he isn't TOO bad.

As we ride up to my house, I feel myself growing disappointed that the time has come to an end, but I make sure not to show it. "Thanks for the ride, I appreciate it," I say softly, getting out of his car. He nods and then waves before honking his horn when I'm at my door. I turn around after my soul jumps out of my skin, glaring at him. He laughed but yells at me.

"Text me! We should go out somewhere!" He shouts, winking and driving off before I can protest.

Stupid Jace.

I then turn to my door, grinning from ear to ear, and walk inside.

[watatsumiis]

today i am thinking about... being kept company by favs while in a low spoons/introverted kind of mode..

(Just some general hcs and such, g/n reader, referred to as 'you'! not explicitly shippy)

Characters: Ayato, Capitano, Childe, Dottore, Pantalone, Pierro, Thoma, Zhongli

Ayato would be more than happy to keep you company - he probably quite likes having someone else nearby that isn't a retainer or something while he's doing his paperwork - I'd imagine he struggles a bit with social burnout on occasion too with how often he has to take charge of conversations, and thus sometimes he will request some 'chill time', especially once he's realised that you both benefit from it. He's often left to his own devices when he's doing his paperwork (apart from Thoma coming up to bring him snacks and drinks) so his study is kind of a safe haven away from the hustle and bustle of the outside world (and even when it's not, Ayato would definitely find you somewhere quiet to sit if you need it <3)

Honestly almost any time with Capitano would be some kind of 'quiet time', I headcanon him to be a very quiet individual, a man who lets his actions do all of the talking. It's actually more of a struggle to get him to engage in a normal conversation (especially if it isn't to do with a subject he's interested in), so hangouts with him often end up with silently watching a movie together or engaging in some form of parallel play (he likes to read -- though I can also see him engaging in some low-key, quiet exercises like tai chi, maybe yoga). I may be projecting here (which I think I'm allowed to because we know next to nothing about him and ive latched onto him like a remora fish), but i imagine that he actually struggles a lot with speaking aloud and socialising and will occasionally go non-verbal when he's had a particularly long or overwhelming day, so sitting quietly doing your own things works great for him.

I'm sorry but Childe can NOT stay still for long enough for either party to benefit from some sit-down quiet time, he's a high-key sensory seeker and is never quiet, he needs to be in the centre of attention or doing at least 3 things at once or he'll explode - he fidgets and wanders and asks annoying/insensitive questions like "hey are you done being quiet now?" he can be really draining to be around but if you tell him you're having a bad day or something he can be super sweet, bringing you treats and gifts and letting you snuggle up to him!

Chill time with Dottore is... unnerving, to say the least. After a mini questionnaire about your day and what led up to you feeling like this, he finally lets up and allows you to sit with him as he goes about whatever business, but eventually you find that he keeps glancing up at you with increasing frequency, his head tilted to the side as he just... observes you.

Pantalone probably chuckles and teases a bit, something along the lines of "oh, you couldn't even go a whole day without me? How sweet." He's another one who doesn't fully understand why someone might want what is essentially 'alone time' in tandem with another person, but he's fine with it as long as you aren't in the way or being distracting, though I feel like he could be kind of strict about it, especially when he's highly stressed, it feels more like being in detention than anything else.

Pierro probably enjoys it (but would never admit it), he probably won't even acknowledge someone walking into the room unless they speak to him directly, so it's really easy just to walk in and sit on a chair near him and just enjoy his presence (though he totally has that old man throat clear/sneeze). Bonus points if you bring him a coffee - he'll tell anyone who walks in looking for you that you're working on something for him and should be left alone.

Thoma is in a similar situation to Childe but he actually knows how to regulate himself well enough to not disturb or bother you - if he has some kind of quiet chore to sit down and do (like folding laundry, sewing or knitting) then he's more than set to keep you company for a while - he'll also offer to make you food and drinks, just like he does when you're sad or upset. I think he struggles to differentiate between upset/just needing some quiet time, but he really does mean well!

I think Zhongli would kind of struggle with the idea at first, it's kind of a non-traditional way of hanging out that he's not used to, he's such a talkative person and will just infodump about the first things that come to his mind because he likes to share things with you, but once he's warmed up to the idea he's more than happy to just sit in the same room while he works on some paperwork for the funeral parlor or reads, only occasionally breaking the silence to tell you something he's deemed to be very interesting or important.

Please don't copy or steal my work! Reblogs are always super appreciated though :D If there's a character not included here (or just someone you want me to elaborate more on), I'm more than happy to put something together, just send me an ask!

[el-buzz]

“You tried your best” :) <3

A Cg! Clay x Agere! Reader fic

Summary: Reader has is upset after going a social gathering and Clay helps them to calm down

(y'all I need happy fanfic ideas ☠️😭 )

1.6k+ words :]!!

And as always will be crossposted on AO3 at Soft_Buzz and not proofread. Enjoy :D!!

So let's say you had wanted to get out of your bubble for once. Expand and experience something new!! Something out of your comfort zone. Ok so maybe sitting in a room full of strangers for more than three hours while they talk about things you didn't particularly like or care about was not the best idea. Yeah yeah you could've easily opted out but you'd made a promise of attending, so you couldn't just not show up right??? 

So you sat there. For exactly three hours and thirty three minutes. Completely feeling out of place and alone. You wanted to talk. Of course you did! But everyone seemed to know each other, and it was just plain scary. You swore you stuck out like sore thumb at the gathering, but fine whatever it was over now. You were fine. Totally and utterly fine.

It's okay. Yeah you were already in front of your pod so it's okay. It's okay.. so why were you tearing up and having difficulty breathing. No matter, you quietly walk in and find Clay relaxing on the couch while reading a book. It's only your sniffling that reels him out of his book.

"Hey?" Clay looked up, placing a bookmark and putting the book down on the coffee table. He frowned, noticing your appearance and the tears now flowing down your cheeks. He rapidly stood up, moving towards you and gently wrapping you in his arms, trying to make you comfortable. "Shh, shh. Calm down. You're alright now." He moved the both of you back onto the couch.

That was it. You weren't fine, and you knew it. You let your walls down and start to sob just fully breaking down. "No I'm not okay! I- I'm so done I'm absolutely done I don't even know why I thought it would be good idea to go to the stupid gathering I don't even care about-" You whine and wipe my tears. "I just wanted to socialize but clearly that didn't go well at all." Sobbing, you tugged uncomfortably at you clothes.

"Hey, hey!" Clay's firm but gentle voice tried to calm you down. "Slow down, slow down."

It was clear you were overwhelmed. So he just held you, comforting you. He pulled you close to him and let you rest your body on top of his.

"You're not giving yourself enough credit. You did a very brave thing today by talking to a bunch of strangers. But... I think you've reached your socializing limit." He smiled down at you as he caressed your face.

It broke his heart seeing you like this. He knew just how much you wanted to be out there socializing and making friends, but poor you either got drained easily or felt completely out of place. Although you have him now, he saw it best that you found others to be around. Clay admired your efforts and was patient and understanding when you had a rough moment.

"Don't speak anymore, ok?" His voice had a soothing effect. "You did your best. That's not nothing, so just rest, now.. ." He ends his sentence with a kiss between your brows.

You just stay quiet while leaning into his warm touch. His warm and comfortable touch that seemed to clear all the stormy clouds in your head. Still, you  feel out the last of the storm. You wanted to say something, but your overwhelming feelings made you too tired to talk or function. So, you just whine and tighten your hold on him.

"I know, baby, I know." His hands softly caressed your back. "I'm guessing you want some small time, don't you? Hm?" Clay looks down at you already knowing what choice you'd make.

You nod still sniffling and rub your tear stains. He couldn't help to softly smile when you looked up at him. His poor baby, so small and so drained. Maybe a babas and a nap would be best for right now.

"How about I make you some hot coco and then you can take a short nap, hm? Sounds nice, doesn't it?"

Clay asked, trying to keep his tone light and cheery as he got off the couch with you at his hip. Once you nodded again, he started heading over to the kitchen.

While Clay was focused on swiftly on preparing the hot coco, you rested your head on his shoulder and began to suck your thumb. "Oh no no, baby. Thumb's icky, remember?" He reached to remove your thumb and you fussed and whined. Clay lightly bounced you in attempt to calm you down. Quickly, while the coco heated up, he found one of your clean pacifiers in a kitchen drawer. "Found one!" He removed the pacifier cover and placed the paci into your mouth. The action soon soothed you, and you began to relax in his arms once more.

You were about to nod off in his arms when clay nudged you, took the pacifier from your mouth, and gave you a baby bottle with the hot coco. You whined while rubbing your sleepy eyes, and started to drink from your babas. The sweet cocoa was warm and wonderful. Although it wasn't often that Clay made you sugary drinks like the coco, man was he was good at it. You were about to drink a lot of it in one go, but Clay was quick to catch on.

He tugged a little on the bottle. "Hey now.. I know you really like your hot coco, buuut we don't want you with an upset tummy, do we?" You respond by shaking your head with him. "Good, baby" He smiles warmly wipes off a bit of the milk that spilt past your mouth. "Such a small little one, aren't you?" He coos while squishing your cheeks. A smile began to shine on your face, and you squirm so happy to be babied right now. You reach for his hand, and he takes yours, quickly interlocking your fingers and letting his head rest on yours. It was sweet innocent moments like these where you and Clay relished the comfort and warmth of the other.

Clay started to readjust his hold on you, so he could help you drink from your bottle. He looked down at you, and he was dazed. You were looking up at him, and your eyes seemed to shine with admiration and wonder. Clay had to admit, the sight was completely adorable. He gave the bottle another few gentle squeezes as he kept a close eye on you to make sure you didn't spill any milk on yourself.

He started to move towards your bedroom where he leaned over to gently lay you down on the bed and began get you ready for a nap. He made sure that you were in comfortable clothes and that you had your favorite stuffie in your arms. Turning away from you, clay turned off the lights. A single lamp and nightlight shone in the now dark room as Clay started to tuck you in.

"Just rest." He said, stroking your hair. "You did something difficult today, and you need to rest."

He pulled the blanket up until you were completely covered. "Now, just take a nap. I'll wake you up for dinner and a bath, okay?" As he started to stand, he paused, and bent down to kiss you one more time. "Sweet dreams. I love you."

He begins to reach the door but you call out to him tiredly. "Clay?.." You rub your eyes while yawning.

"Yeah?" He stops at the door look back at you.

"Can I has story?.. pretty please?"

Clay chuckled softly and started to approach your bedside and held your hand. "Of course you can. Do you have one you'd like to hear? Or would you rather I make one up?" He traced your hand patiently while waited for your response.

“Book,” you utter as you point at area where you keep your children’s books.

Clay smiled and approached the bookshelf. He looked at the titles, wondering which one you would prefer. After a bit of thought, he selected a one for you. Clay moved towards you and sat down next to you, pulling himself up to your side. You quickly snuggled up to him

"Looke here, I got you a classic: Goodnight Moon, one of my favorites when I was a kid."

He cleared his throat before reading to you in a soothing voice, holding your hand as you relaxed.

"In the great green room, there was a telephone." You felt your eyelids began to get heavy, snuggling under your blanket and listening to Clay.

You tried last best as you could to follow along with him, by pointing to the little kitties and the mousy. You even offered to read a couple of words, albeit tired and a bit slurred.

Clay praised you for doing so good and being such a great little reader. He loved seeing you smile and babble at the illustrations, reading to you was his favorite thing to do with you. Clay smiled sweetly when you babbled and pointed along with the story. He pulled you closer to him as he read the story, his voice quiet and soothing.

By the time you both finished the book, you were already half asleep. Carefully, trying not to wake you, he got out of bed and tucked you in once more. He caressed you face one final time and leaned in to kiss your forehead. Before walking out of the room, he whispers to you. "You know you did you're best today, right? and sometimes that the most wonderful thing you could ever do." All he gets in response is some light snoring. He chuckles and walks out.

Author’s note:

Had to write this after I went to an overwhelming social gathering like two weeks ago but I never really got around to finish it until now

It's a lot shorter than the last one but I hope you still enjoyed it :]

Also thank you so much to those who liked, reblogged, and commented on my last posts!!! It makes me ecstatic to see others enjoy what I write

Y'all got me kicking my feet and everything lmao 😭💀

Me when I see notifications coming in:

[bigtittiecomitte]

[Small Rant!]

(Hope this is alright!! Sorry for my ask being so long and all over the place, but I just had so much to say!)

I honestly might leave the fandom, I'm REALLY tempted to at this point. Because, I don't know how much more of this toxicity, the behavior of Envy and V stans (NOT ALL, BTW) and the Nuzi hatedom, I can take..especially knowing that Envy and V stans are doing the same thing they did back when episode 6 released, attacking and harassing Liam Vickers + sending death threats...it's absolutely disgusting and unacceptable and shouldn't be normalized, AT ALL. These individuals who are doing this aren't real fans of the show and don't care about it, they don't give a shit about the love, dedication and care that goes into Murder Drones or all the hard work that goes into the show. They only care about wether their ship becomes canon or not and if they don't get what they want, they start harassing and shitting on the crew behind the show, especially the creator (Liam) and say they don't wanna watch the show anymore and it just proves they were probably NEVER fans in the first place and only cared about shipping and that's just so damn sad, it's especially pathetic and childish how some of these fans act..

I've said it before and I'll say it once more, SHIPPING ISN'T EVERYTHING, STOP MAKING IT A BIG DEAL. There's so much more to love and appreciate about the Murder Drones and there's so much to love about the show and shipping shouldn't be something you should even go into and look forward to when getting into any piece of media, MD isn't even a romance show. I'm overall just so damn tired and sick of this fandom, like REALLY TIRED..it's just so damn draining and exhausting especially when the same arguments are used again and again. The fandom just sucks and I fear it'll only get worse and I really don't know if I can stay for much longer. (I'm seriously missing the pilot-era days when the fandom was small and not that bad) but even though the community isn't the best, I'm glad we have some respectful and caring individuals in the fanbase like you and others, I honestly don't think the fandom isn't as bad here as it is on both TikTok and Twitter, the MD fandom side of things on Tumblr is more tame compared to the other social medias I mentioned.

Overall, MD is such a comfort show for me and has had such a huge impact on me, it's seriously one of my favorite shows, I'm not even joking. I'm incredibly thankful and happy for it's existence and also thankful to Liam, GLITCH, the animators, the VA's and just the entire team as a whole for making such a great and wonderful show! It means so much to me and I'll never stop loving it despite it's ups and downs + the community not being the best at times, I'm truly thankful for this show and those I've met in the fandom. ❤️💞

Hey you Dorky goober

No need to apologise for the long rant. Generally I adore long rants so win win for both of us (if anyone does need to rant about something then I’ll totally be here for you, I know what it feels like to not rant about something but you really do)

With you thinking about leaving the fandom due to the toxicity honestly I would not blame you at all. I’m someone who’s comfort ship is Nuzi so just seeing any hate would make me think about it for the rest of the day

Usually what I do when I see any toxicity is just laugh at it, laugh at how stupid their take is. Recently I had a fight with this Lesslie person and all I did was laugh at how silly it was like bro was getting aggressive bc people preferred Nuzi

I’m trying not to dogpile on toxic V fans + Envy shippers cause I don’t want to seem too obsessive over drama but for some reason it always gets worse

There are toxic Nuzi shippers but there aren’t as many as toxic Envy shippers like never in my life have I seen an Envy shipper getting doxxed because they like Envy. For some reason it’s always the toxic Envy shippers that make this fandom miserable

I don’t think they even know that they’re toxic shippers and desperately need to leave the fandom, most of them are kids but that never excuses any actions that they do because it’s the internet, once you post something it’s there forever

Murder Drones has so much in store than just romance and I’m saying this as someone who mostly posts Nuzi related things although I really do want to post more about the lore and I even planned for a full post on the details (I was pretty busy so I didn’t complete that but it’s in the drafts lol)

Not only the lore but just Murder Drones in general, the romance is great but so is the show, just everything about this show is filled with so much love and you can tell just by all the silly things they put in the backgrounds and the writing by Liam

Like the N x Uzi scenes are just small scenes like they’re put in different places but it works because the show isn’t focused on romance. I do think people forget that the N x Uzi scenes are quite literally important for the plot as well, it’s not just there for fanservice. Liam knows what he’s doing and anyone that tells him otherwise can go fuck off honestly

There are bad people but there are also a lot of good people in this fandom, a lot that do appreciate Murder Drones for even continuing. Screw whatever those 13 year olds on Twitter say, they don’t know crap about respect

[bluejaysandblackbats]

Ocean View

Fandom: Superfam, Batfam, DC Comics

Summary: A pair of shoes, a fragmented memory, and a collection of newspaper clippings.

An empty box of cigarettes, a second phone, and a beach house with locked rooms.

Chapters: 1/?

Characters: Laney Kent, Jason Todd, Clark Kent, Lois Lane, Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson, Chris Kent, Tim Drake

Relationship(s): JayLaney, Clois

Additional Tags: No Powers AU, No Capes AU, Secret Identity, Social Media, Romance, Angst

Chapter One: Allow Me To Introduce Myself

He forgot his shoes. I always thought it was weird that he left his shoes after our little one-night stand. But hey, I can't judge him because I kept them. It seemed like a waste to throw out such cool shoes. Besides, they looked brand new.

Sometimes I wear the shoes to clubs, wondering if he'll be there and he'll recognize me. It's unrealistic, but it gives me something new to daydream about. Then at night, I dream of him. I wake up gasping for air, my skin clinging to my sheets, and I feel him. He's on my lips, in my hair, and when I get the courage to face him, I open my eyes, and he's gone. I shower and rinse the thought of him down the drain. I couldn't remember what his name was. I know I'd called it out in the dark of my room, but I can barely remember anything from that time.

You see, I was in what I like to call, 'a shitty place'. Other people, like my parents, would say I was smack dab in the middle of a breakdown.

Fuck, I feel like I'm rambling. Anyway, it'd been almost six months since my one-night stand with the hydro-dipped shoe guy when I finally started working again. My mom came to check on me just as she did every morning.

You see, I work with my parents. For most people, that would be weird. For me, though, I just fade into the background and watch the Lois Lane-Kent and Clark Kent do what they do best.

My dad asked me to take pictures for him at a community event. I was a photographer, but I was just as driven as my mom. It frightened my dad. Not without reason, though. When I was sixteen, I ended up in the hospital for smoke inhalation after trying to get a picture of an apartment fire. My parents were horrified. I was so proud of the picture. That was all I cared about. I think that's the first time my dad ever yelled at me. The only other time he yelled at me was six months ago. Both times I burst into tears. But what else do you do when the kindest person you know screams at you?

My dad and I worked well together, but he worried about me. "Lane, stay close, okay?" he requested. I nodded and stood off to the side. He still walked on eggshells with me after everything happened. I knew he hated yelling at me, but I wished he would get over it.

The Waynes had an event in Metropolis, and since Bruce Wayne and my dad were friends, he wanted to give my dad a few quotes for an article. We got there early and beat the crowd, and Bruce and a handful of his kids came to greet us. "Hi, Lane, it's nice to see you again," Bruce smiled. I shook his hand and introduced myself to his kids.

Tim, the clever one. He was a little odd, but it was rumored that he'd be Bruce's successor someday. Dick was the one I was most familiar with. He used to babysit me whenever our dads hung out. Jason, the poster boy of Gotham in a derogatory sense. He'd been in trouble for arson and fights and breaking and entering, among other things, but I couldn't help but feel a sense of familiarity with him. When I got close enough to shake his hand, I could smell his cologne. It was something I'd smelt before, but it wasn't something you would smell on just anyone. "You can let go of my hand now," Jason leaned close and whispered in my ear.

He resumed his place in line with his family, and I went back to work as a photographer. Bruce Wayne and my father got along well, and Bruce's sons seemed to sort of kick back and do their own thing. "Lane, how's Christopher?" Dick asked. I looked up from my camera and smiled.

"Kit's alright. I haven't seen him in a little bit," I answered honestly. Dick frowned. He knew about my breakdown. I knew he did.

"How're you doing, Lane?" Dick asked. I raised my camera and took Dick's picture.

I sometimes used my camera as a wall between myself and other people. It was a bad habit that I had no intentions of breaking. "I'm okay... Thanks for visiting me when it was bad," I mumbled.

"Of course, I'm just glad you're alright—."

"Mind if I cut in, brother dear?" Jason asked as he grinned at me. Dick sighed.

"See you around, Lane," Dick waved.

I looked up at Jason, and he looked at me as if he knew something that I didn't. "What are you doing after this?" he asked. I furrowed my brows. "I'm not—. I mean, I am hitting on you, but I'm not trying to be a jerk about it."

I chewed my lip. I didn't go on dates. I didn't connect well with others, but I noticed a change in Jason's face after he asked. "I'm gonna go get a drink at Peppercorn down the street... If you're not leaving right after the ceremony, you can meet me there," I mumbled. I looked away from him and went back to my job.

"I'm kind of a lightweight," he smiled awkwardly. I nodded. I didn't think to smile back at him. I had my own idea about who Jason Todd-Wayne was, and from what I heard, I didn't like him. I only said yes to the date because our fathers were friends. "I've seen some of your work," Jason whispered, "I really liked the photo you took of that mother who applied a tourniquet to her son's leg when her ceiling collapsed on him. I cried when I saw it."

I wanted to call bullshit, but I remembered taking that picture. "When did you see that? I took that photo two years ago," I replied.

"Our dads are friends. I read everything your family posts, just in case I run into you guys at something like this," Jason replied. Jason chewed his lip before looking back at Bruce.

The ceremony started nearly an hour, and Bruce Wayne opened the community center. I took a few photos once we moved inside, and I sat on the sidelines while my dad did his job. I looked the pictures over before e-mailing them to my dad, and I left my stuff with him.

I walked to Peppercorn, and I sat at the bar. I got a hard cider and french fries. Jason took the seat next to me. "Peppercorn, so what do you usually drink here?" he questioned.

"Pear hard cider... I'll foot the bill if you order a cocktail. If you order a naughty one, I'll share my fries with you," I whispered in reply.

"Are the fries here good?" Jason asked. I nodded, trying to keep a straight face. "Fuck me hard, please." I pushed my face into his shoulder and laughed.

Jason nudged me with his forehead, and I smelled him again. His scent was hot and mature, like some sort of spice. Not cloves, no. The french fries came, and I didn't even notice. I lifted my head and made eye contact with him. "So, you remember me?" Jason asked. I heard him, but I wasn't listening. His cologne drove me crazy. Our lips touched, and his kiss set my body on fire. He bit my bottom lip, and I pulled away.

"You left your shoes at my apartment," I gasped. Jason nodded. I felt him like electricity in my body.

"Your fries are gonna get cold," Jason whispered.

I wanted to say, "Fuck the fries," and get out of there with him right then and there, but I turned away awkwardly and started eating.

Jason ate a few fries and took a gulp of his drink before choking. "Jeez, that's a strong drink," Jason grinned. He let out a breath before taking a few sips. "Fuck." He laughed, and I could tell that that was his limit.

"Want me to order you some bread?" I asked. Jason shook his head. "No shame in being a little tipsy."

"No, I'm fine. I just don't need anymore–." He laughed and went back to eating my fries. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have finished that drink so quick... I just didn't want–. I wanna go on a date sometime. A real date."

I nodded. "When you sober up, I'd like that. Now move, you're eating all my fries," I teased. Jason laughed and nodded. I wanted him so bad it drove me crazy. I'd dreamt about it almost every night since it happened.

"Okay, my dad has a beach house here that he never uses. I can come back on your day off, and we can spend the whole—. That sounds like I'm just trying—."

I handed him my phone. "Put your number in. I've got the weekend off," I interrupted. Jason nodded, and I ordered another round of fries. We finished eating, and I called Jason a cab and walked back to work.

I met my mom out front, and she looked me over. "Where'd you go?" Mom asked.

"I met somebody at Peppercorn," I replied, "Why? Am I in trouble or something?" Mom looked me in my eyes. "I'm not using. I had a cider at Peppercorn and some french fries. I'm even back at work on time."

Mom gave me a hug and a kiss. "Can you do dinner with the Waynes at our house?" she asked.

"Tonight?" I asked. Mom nodded. I chewed my lip. "Alright. Do you want me to bring anything?"

"Can you work your magic with your special hamburger pasta... For Christopher?" she requested. I knew what that meant. My little brother Christopher (or Kit) was the closest I'd ever gotten to having a real best friend. Hamburger pasta was what I made for him whenever he was upset. It was an 'are we okay?' dish.

I knew that he was upset with me. I nodded. "Yes, Mom, I can... You know that's not gonna fix what I did, right?" I reminded her. She nodded solemnly, and we went back inside. I suppose that was a talk for another time. She took me back inside, and we went to our workspaces.

[the-sharlyan-song]

"Are you certain that one Sonny?" It was midday in Gridania, and Dimitri had taken an early break to meet his mentor, Xixa, outside of the shopping area.

"Look at it. It is as green as his eyes, and I swear the band is made of wood. I think it is perfect for him. If he hates it, he can take it off. I think it would help him to have a symbol. Something he can look at when he needs to. When he worries, I.." a deep blush appeared in the Sharlayan's pale skin much to the amusement of the supposedly old Mooncatte who gave a chuckle and then turned to look at a pair of earrings with Menphina's symbol on them giving the seven fulms tall Elezen time to compose himself.

"Cutest damned thing you are. Still can't say you love him without blushing." It was a low mutter, but the Duskwights sharp ears picked up every word she spoke.

"Hey! You are not used to seeing what true love looks like, " he protested, a scowl appearing in his rather feminine features, his normal array of eyeliner and eyeshadow just adding to those features overall.

"No such thing." Xixa grumbled in reply, her nostrils even flaring. "Mark my word Sonny he will either get bored with you, sick of you, or find someone else. It's what happens. No, such a thing as forever no matter how many times ya try, along comes the new shiny and next thing you know the half way out the door."

Over his shoulder, he looked to where she stood, and then he found the dark-haired Miqo'te playing with a bracelet that went to the earrings she had been looking at he could see the sadness there, and a small sigh came from him. "Have you ever told Iris how you feel?" He asked softly, reaching over to take one of the boxes that copies of the set that had caught Xixa's eye, and quickly he put it with his other things before she looked up at him.

"WHAT! NO?" Her voice raised, and for a moment, he thought she was going to punch him, her hand balled at her side suggesting she was certainly thinking about. "It's complicated. She is all the way in Corethas, and I am all the way here. I think she is a noble, one like your sister, full blooded. Doubt she would have time for a relationship with a commoner, and besides, there are others I like in that, and I don't think that's her thing. Like I said, it's complicated. We see each other less and less now. Doesn't change anything for me, but like I said, don't get too comfy, Sonny people leave, and then you have nurse a broken heart."

Dimitri felt his eyes cross, and his lips pressed into a thin line. He despised when she got like this, which wasn't often, Xixa was a strong woman, after all, stronger than his sister in many ways. "Could start going to those social mixers. You know those speed dating ones. The girls are older, and I could be you Wing-Elezen, " and there it was the fist he had been expecting, which connected with his thigh muscle hard enough to make it spasm.

"Ow! XIXA what the FUCK was that!? I was being helpful!" A loud shhh came from the shopkeeper, an old Wildwood from the looks of him who was staring down his nose at the pair with his lip curled in disgust, a faint tremble going through him.

"Mind your business, Sonny. I'm old, and I'm set in my ways. Don't need someone trackin' mud through my house or cloggin' up my shower shower drain with their hair. Been me and the girls for so long now that I wouldn't even know what to do on a date. A speedy one or not. The last date I went on was twenty years ago and it was the girls' father. We went over to the water and fished didn't have much money to do anything else. Can't believe I was ever that young. Liri was born just a turn later, too. Wouldn't even know what to say to get someone interested in me. What do I tell them? I like to darn socks and make stew for supper. Oo, that would have them beatin' down my door." Up she looked at his smiling face, and she couldn't help but scowl at it. "Think my days of datin' are o-v-e-r."

To this, Dimitri shook his head and sighed. "Just like Laurent, same damned age too. Neither of you has even hit forty yet, and here you are. I am beginning to think it is one of those Shroud things." Quickly, he darted forward, putting a space between them before she could hit him again. "I could always look into Iris for you to find out who she is. Invite her to dinner so you two could talk."

A momentary look of hope appeared in the Keeper's eyes, but then she swallowed hard and shook her head. "Wouldn't want to push her. She'll come back around when she's ready or when she misses me. I know she does. I can feel it." There were other things Xixa wanted to say as her ears sagged on top of her head, and her tail swished back and forth very close to the floor. "I don't want ta talk about this anymore." Her tone was firm again and her teeth gritted together.

"Order your wedding bands, and then let's go. Had enough of this old ass staring at us." Her hand lifted, and she raised her middle finger to the old Elezen. Who wheezed in reply and look towards Dimitri who was approaching the counter swiftly.

"Better have the gil Duskwight or the Adders will be here to collect you." The old man left his threat hanging in the air as Dimitri drew out a rather official looking cheque book from a Sharlayan Bank. "How much do I owe you?"his fiery eyebrow lifting in question.

"The two nophica bands set in dark wood around one hundred thousand gil as a pair and that box there will cost you another hundred thousand and no I won't split it up so you can afford it. No bartering, either your kind, has nothing I would be interested in."

Not a single word left his lips, not even a whisper of reply. Instead, he focused on writing the amount on the next cheque and then slid it across the counter just as Xixa yelled behind him. "Dontcha be smart Pierront Chevanoix. I see your wife at temple on Windsday. She'll box yer ears if I tell her you were bein' an ass to Lord Jienuex."

Dimitri stiffened at the sound of the word "Lord" before his name. Even though he had just written it on the cheque, the sound of that terrible word always made his stomach churn in protest. When someone called him it.

"Oh, sorry Ser," Elezen said out of nowhere, and he straightened up. "Forgive. The clan markings and relaxed manners. I thought you were one of those vagrants from Mun Tuy cellars." This seemed to get much faster now as he gathered all the sizing information and designs for the rings, the special symbols giving him pause as he recognized the Shroud Witch nature behind them. "This order will take about a Moon, Ser. Unless you need it sooner?"

Tucking the book back into his coat, he shook his head at Old Elezen. "A Moon is fine. We have not set an official date yet. I will just take the other item. It isn't going very far. " Then, on his heel, he turned and out the door he headed, adding one final dig. "Just linkpearl the Adders when they are done. I work for them. They will get you in touch." Yanking open the door, he let Xixa escape first before he stepped out and shut it behind him.

"Where too next?" Xixa lit a cigarette as soon as she felt the fresh air on her cheeks.

"Home. I have had enough of the city this day, but first, this is for you." Dimitri extended the box he had been carrying waiting for the Keeper to take it. His eyes flashed in various marine shades. "I saw you looking at it. Something nice to wear when we find you a date."

"Sonny, is this.." her eyes widened as she opened the box and looked inside. The next thing Dimitri knew, there were tears in Xixa's eyes. "Sonny, I can't pay you back for this."

"You'll pay me back by going on a date with someone or finally telling Iris that you want her in your life life." Silence fell over the pair then as Xixa fought for the words to say how she felt, but none would come, at least not now.

[dukesmebby]

sunshine

a/n: i am sorry if this is silly (actually im not i want this so bad) but i could not stop thinking abt it till it turned into this! heheh WC: 0.9 k (CW: mentions of asshole parents, one (1) mention of eating habits, lmk if theres anything else bc i think the rest is just fluff)

You put the car in park in front of the empty trailer and just sat there for what felt like hours before you could even begin to gather your things and head inside.

good thing he’s not home yet, you thought. Your resolve would completely crumble if Eddie were here to see you like this. You were supposed to be his sunshine, his sweet, happy girl. Currently, you just felt numb, drained of everything you had. There was no sunshine left, it was all rain clouds and thunderstorms tonight. You were a little bit disappointed in yourself if you were being honest. Normally, you could get a grip and stop yourself from slipping under. Just ignore the harsh comments and move on.

You were supposed to be able to keep yourself from slipping.

This feels like more than a slip though, more like drowning. Like your body is giving out after treading water for far too long and you were not equipped with a life vest.

It was like you were on autopilot.

Get out of the car. Lock it.

Get inside. Lock the door.

Put your stuff down.

Kick off your shoes.

Shower. Change.

You know how sometimes when you’re driving you get to your destination and think how in the hell did I make it here alive? I don't even remember the drive. That’s how it felt once you were changed into one of Eddie’s t-shirts and some new panties. You don't remember getting here but here you are. You didn’t even bother to brush out your wet hair before crawling into bed finally letting yourself feel.

It was heartbreaking. To not be good enough for them, to not be as important to your familiy as their social status. Your looks and the way you made them look was always going to be more important to them than just, you.

The first tear came and you started to let it all out. Shaking sobs wracked through your body and it felt like it wouldn’t ever stop.

Your cries were so loud you didn’t even hear him get in. With your back turned away from the bedroom doorway you didn't see him either.

He stood open-mouthed at the doorway for all of three seconds trying to figure out what was going on before another wretched sob came out of your mouth and he had to step forward.

“Hey, hey, love, what’s going on? It’s alright sweetheart. I’m here now.”

Startled by his sweet presence you stared at him in shock for a few seconds before breaking down again. Now you’re letting him down too, by being upset in the first place.

He had moved to sit on your side of the bed now and draped his arms around you. All you could see was him. All you could smell was him. All you could feel was him. He helped you calm down a bit. You were still hiccuping through tears but at least you weren’t choking on sobs anymore.

“Sweetheart what’s going on, huh? You hurt?”

You looked up at him with sad, wet eyes and shook your head at him.

“What’s going on then, huh? What happened to my sunshine?”

A pang of hurt struck through your heart at that.

You were supposed to be his sunshine.

“I'm sorry baby. i know-“

“You don’t have anything you need to be sorry for, I just want to know what’s making my girl sad” he interrupted, while giving you those eyes that could turn you into a puddle then and there.

“Please don’t be mad but i just, i went and talked to my parents but they are just so mean. It was the same old spiel they always gave. They went on and on about how I'm not doing enough here at the house and how I need to be working more and then mom would not shut up about the fact that I went back for seconds-”

He grabbed your face in his big hands and squished your cheeks so your lips puffed out before you could say anything else. It took a second for your brain to catch up and look him in the eyes.

“Baby, hey” he cooed. “Nothing they say about you or who you are is true. I’m not mad at you, I could never be mad at you for trying with them, it just makes me sad to see you so upset, love.” You simply replied with a nod.

He notices your damp hair, and lets out a small giggle, “Didn’t even finish getting ready for bed, my sweet thing.”

You let out a shaky laugh and shook your head at him in agreement. He took your hand and pulled you over to the bathroom, making sure to grab the hairbrush and an elastic out of the drawer. He stood behind you and brushed out your hair. Making goofy faces at you in the mirror, trying (and definitely not failing) to cheer you up. Before he was finished with your hair you turned around into him and gave him a hug so tight he thought his heart might just burst.

“thank you, eds. i love you” you mumbled into his chest.

“I love you too, sweets. let’s finish getting you ready for bed”

He turned you back around after placing a kiss to your forehead and brushed through your hair again. He split it into 3 sections and braided it down your back for you. By the time he was done you were as smiley as ever after making faces at each other the whole time.

You sat on the lid of the toilet while he showered before the two of you were able to crawl into bed together. You snuggled into his welcoming arms and that was when you realized he was your life vest. He kept you from slipping.

“I love you so much, Ed's. Sleep tight baby”

You were asleep before you could hear his response.

“Sleep tight, my sunshine, I love you. ”

[jangofettjamz]

Meds

Jenna ortega x Autistic!Male!Reader

Summary: Jenna sees that you're anxious and encourages you to take your medication.

Words: 871

Jenna POV

Y/N and I just got back from the Doctor to get his prescription for his anxiety meds. He doesn't like taking them, as goes for any medication he has to take, but he needs them in times like these.

He's done so well with going to his appointments, even if he's not confident to go to them by himself he still makes the effort because he cares and wants to look after himself.

However, he can be a little stubborn despite what he'd tell you. He'll refuse to take them sometimes, says the meds make him drowsy, I don't blame him to be honest they do take a lot of energy out of him.

His social battery has practically been drained from having to talk to the receptionist, doctor and pharmacist so talking was gonna be kept to a minimum, which isn't a problem at all because I'm proud of how far he's come to even do that.

He's sitting on the couch playing with hands, he needs his meds but getting him to take them is a different conversation entirely. I'll have to be patient and convince him that it's okay to take them, he's always skeptical about taking them.

I walk up to him and try to get through to him. "Honey you alright? You're fidgeting a lot there, what's on your mind?" He shrugs; like I said his social battery is drained.

"You feeling anxious?" I ask being careful of what to say. He nods his head shyly keeping his hands in his sleeves.

I decided that getting an idea of how anxious he is would determine whether he should take them or not. "Can you tell me how anxious you're feeling right now on a scale of one to ten?" His mouth opened but no words formed, only exasper gasps; he's non verbal.

He immediately hides his face out of embarrassment, he hates being non verbal; finding it extremely frustrating when he can't say how he feels.

"Hey hey hey, that's okay if you can't speak right now babe, can you use your fingers to tell me how bad it is out of ten?" He nods and begins using his fingers to tell me his level of anxiety.

He held up seven fingers, I'd say that's high enough for him to need his meds. "Let me feel your pulse, sweetie." I felt his jugular pulse and it was going quite quick, so was his breathing.

"Your heart's a little fast sweetie, so is your breathing. Are you panicking a little?" He nods.

"Here hold my hand, squeeze if you need to. Take deep breaths with me, in *inhales* and out*exhales*. Good job baby, keep up with those deep breaths for me."

I sit him on my lap and hold him tight with his head on my shoulder, his legs wrapped around my waist as I rock him from side to side as a grounding technique. He was shaking slightly from his oncoming anxiety.

"Oh my sweet baby, I'm here. I'm here for as long as you need me for. I know today was a lot and I'm gonna help you get through it, okay? Just relax in my lap love bug, shhhh." I rub his back while giving him head scratches, that always calmed him a bit.

"I'm your safe space remember, nothing can hurt you when I'm with you. You're safe honey, you're always safe with me." His breathing began to slow and my rocking stops to look in his beautiful eyes.

"Do you wanna take your meds for me?" He shrugs again, atleast it's not a no so this might be easier than anticipated.

"How about this, we give you your meds and we can cuddle for as long as you want, your gonna be really tired after taking them so you may aswell rest with me. Does that sound good?" He nods and gets off my lap so I can prepare his meds.

I prepare a glass of water and bring it to the living room where he is. "Here you go babe" I say handing him the pills. I hold up the glass of water to his lips and he swallows the pills while I help him drink the water "drink up baby boy, you're doing really good" he hates taking pills.

He finishes his water and his pills are swallowed. "All done, good job babe." I coo and kiss his forehead. I seat him back in my lap and lay down on the couch with his head on my chest.

After about 10 minutes he begins to yawn and his eyes become droopy, indicating his sleepiness. "Feeling sleepy, sweetheart?" He nods and I rub his back and rock him to help lull him to sleep.

"I'll hum you a lullaby, just drift off in my arms bubs, it's okay shhhh." I kiss the top of his head with love. The shushing, kisses and rocking made his head woozy and he closed his eyes, my humming was enough to lull him into a deep sleep.

I sighed with contentment, he was wrapped in my arms, light snores filling out the silence. My eyes slowly shut as I followed him into sleep with him snuggled up in my arms.