#i wrote this months and months ago but it was in my drafts so… I’ll post it now I guess 🤣

[bugeyedfreaks]

I enjoy seeing PPG fan interpretations of the characters online, and I think it's very interesting to explore the varied ways that people interpret them. The diversity of ideas and different perspectives are really cool! It's just that every time I see a fan interpretation of a “future” Mojo Jojo (“future” meaning 10-15 years from the original timeline) portrayed as some doddering old wrinkly elderly dude with grey fur riding a robot wheelchair, I just can't help but be like... huh?

Why would you so drastically age up this super smart actual baby?

It's weird because, yeah, if you stop and think about it… he's technically around the same age as the PPG (perhaps even younger because they were born at five years old... this is a weird show, what can I say), so despite his hilariously deep voice or love of the more mature, finer things in life (which I just view as him trying to be more refined since, you know, he now has like all the intelligence ever)... I just don't feel in my heart of hearts that he would be drinking prune juice and watching The Price Is Right if the girls were teens/adults. He'd probably be more or less the same as he is canonically since he’d still retain his super intelligence (maybe he’d be a little taller as a treat, or at the very least he’d just whine even more than usual… maybe even more jaded, we just don't know).

[estrellami-1]

Ten Minutes

Didn’t love this when I first wrote it. Left it in my drafts for a LONG freakin’ time. Found it again and no longer care, so here yall go; have fun! Probably not a part 2 to this one.

Steve takes a breath, then another, as he waits for the line to connect. He grits his teeth, feeling eyes on him. He does his best to ignore them.

“Munson residence, if you’re calling about the murders I’ve been absolved of, try going to hell instead.”

“I need you to pick me up.”

A pause. “Stevie?”

Steve takes another breath. Tries to unclench his jaw. “Please.”

“Yeah, of course, I’ll be right there- what-”

“My parents are in town.”

Another pause. “I’ll be there in ten. Try not to kill them.”

Steve laughs humorlessly. “Just hurry.”

“Ten minutes,” Eddie says, and hangs up.

Steve sighs, places the phone in its socket, and turns back to face his parents.

His mother is narrowing her eyes at him. “Who was that?”

“A friend,” he says lightly.

“Who, that Hagan boy?” His father scoffs.

“No. Not Tommy. I haven’t spoken to him in years.”

“Oh, Steve,” his mother tuts. “Always so dramatic. We’ve not even been gone a year-”

Steve laughs. It sounds hollow. “Try four years,” he informs her. “And three concussions. Did you hear about the mall two years ago? Or the boy who went missing four years ago?” He shakes his head when his mother looks at him blankly. “That’s what I thought.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” his father snaps. “And don’t you dare speak to your mother in that tone again, Steven. You’re still a child and I won’t hesitate to reprimand you as such.”

“I’m twenty,” Steve says evenly. “I’ll be twenty-one in five months.” He crosses his arms. “The last time you saw me, I was a freshman in high school. I’ve graduated. I found jobs. Lost some friends and made some better ones.”

“And what of that girl you were dancing around?” His mother asks. “Karen’s daughter?”

“We’re friends,” he says shortly, then moves through the kitchen, to the stairs. “Excuse me.”

“No,” his father says. “You’re not excused. Where do you think you’re going?”

Steve turns, one hand on the bannister, to look at the man who had terrified him the last time he’d seen him. It’s funny what interdimensional threats will do. “To pack a bag. I’m not going to stay here while you are.”

“And if I were to say we’re staying for good?”

Steve laughs. “Dad, you’ve said that before. Multiple times, actually. Those words mean nothing to me anymore.”

“And where are you planning on staying?” His mother asks. “Honestly, Steven, I thought we raised you to make better decisions than this.”

“Oh, I see. So it was raising me when I woke up at nine years old to discover you’d left and I’d have to find my own way to school. Then a week later when I had to ride my bike to the store to buy groceries. At eleven, when I looked the school counselor in the eye and said you’d be back soon. I had to go to my own parent-teacher conferences. At fifteen, trying to figure out high school classes. At seventeen when I got my first concussion. At eighteen when I signed my first legally-binding NDA. You hadn’t abandoned me. You were raising me.” He sighs, shakes his head. “Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

He makes his way up to his room and packs as much as he can. Clothes. Vinyls. The box of cash under the loose floorboard. Then into the bathroom. Toothbrush, deodorant, even his shampoo. Doubles back into his room to grab a bracelet off his nightstand; one El made him.

He looks around, grabs the nail bat, and makes his way downstairs. His mother gasps when she sees him. “What on earth is that?”

He looks at the bat. Adjusts his grip, twirls it around. “An NDA.”

The doorbell rings. Steve grabs his bags and moves towards it. “If you walk out that door, you’ll never walk back in.”

“Fine by me,” Steve says. He grabs his keys, tosses the house key at his father, and pockets the rest.

He opens the door and grins at Eddie, who’s looking at him worriedly. “Hey, Eds. Ready to go?”

Eddie blinks. “Um. Sure? Are you okay?”

“Sure,” Steve shrugs. “I’m getting kicked out. If you don’t want to take me I’ll just go bug Robin. It’ll only be for a little while, though, just until I find a better job and an apartment or something.”

“Like hell Wayne’s gonna miss this chance,” Eddie grins. “You know you’re his favorite.”

Steve smiles back, tosses his things into the back of Eddie’s van. “I hoped you were gonna say that.”

Permanent Taglist: @justforthedead89 @ilovecupcakesandtea @madigoround @bookbinderbitch @suddenlyinlove @nburkhardt @artiststarme @paintsplatteredandimperfect @i-less-than-three-you @alyelf @quarble @messrs-weasley @littlewildflowerkitten @vankaar @starman-jpg @bornonthesavage @steddie-there @goodolefashionedloverboi @andienotannie @cinnamon-mushroomabomination @platinum-sunset @just-ladyme @steddiestains @swimmingbirdrunningrock @imhereforthelolzdontyellatme @martinskis-lydias @notaqueenakhaleesi @sleepyboosstuff @bestwifehaver @m-owo-n @thatonebadideapanda @finalmoondragon @velocitytimes2 @callmeanythjing @ajeff855 @ilikeititspretty @knitsforthetrail @sillysparrow @that-one-corvid @ace-is-bored @muricel @harpymoth @weirdandabsurd42

[planetsstarsandmoons]

Synastry observations based on (personal) experience, part 5:

I’m back!!!! After months lmao

Moon opposite mars: a big ‘want’. Moon opposite mars is a story. It’s every romance movie/ romcom aspect, and i’ll tell you why. These people see in each other the potential of moon conjunct mars fullfillment that’s actually (way, but opinions differ ofc) better than the conjunction. That’s because in the opposition, each has something the other lacks. This can create for both people the ultimate romantic fullfilment when brought together by effort and acceptance of each other, and this promise is very hard to let go of. Typically, these are couples that fight a lot but find it very hard to let each other go once they know what they can have with each other, because it really is the best. Just think about it, even the thought of people putting conscious effort to be sweeter to one another is precious. That only creates a bond that’s very raw and very real (quoting jewelastrology here). Then combine that with the power of the mars and the moon and the friction of the opposition, keeping things interesting and keeping both parties learning more. You shouldn’t romanticise struggle in a relationship. Too much ‘work’ can just mean you aren’t compatible. THIS aspect is an exception. Just watch out for possible aggression. That’s never okay. One day I’ll make a seperate post about the amount of moon opposite mars couples in literature. The best I can think of now is Pride and Prejudice, with Mr Darcy being mars and Elizabeth Bennet being moon.

Venus twelfth house overlay: sorry y’all, in my personal experience, it’s true what they say. The twelfth house person has a hard time feeling this overlay on their side, or on a very subconscious level. I was the 12th house person. On one hand, I really ‘got it’ so to say but on the other hand, I don’t have a shitty clue of how he picked up on this ‘thing between us’ he thought or picked up on we had. That’s actually the big thing about this overlay. Don’t lose all hope, but you’ll have one person going “you knoww like there’s this thing between us...” and the 12th house person will be going: “what thing?” 😂 this can actually be nice because the 12th house person will get in touch with that subconscious twelfth housey part of themselves IF there are other nicely supporting aspects. Like the venus person’s venus to other stuff. They say a true connection is always mutual. I want to say to you all that don’t be surprised when a 12th house person in such an overlay is not ‘feeling’ this mutually. I literally wrote in my diary: “i might actually like him when it’s too late. Or just never lol i do not know.”

Update: I wrote this observation months ago in like april. It is now october and I’m starting to gain interest in him, albeit slowly and subconsciously, but, yeah 🤦‍♀️😂 i came back to this draft being like “WHATT?? Astrology had predicted this TOO for me???”

Moon trine pluto: you know when the fighting super intense troubled couple FINALLY gets together in this really intense and satisfying time when things are finally going the way they’re planned? Like an end all all good? That is this overlay, but constantly. On the outside, it’s the annoyingly passionate/emotional couple in a series that you don’t get because you haven’t seen them do any work to deserve this kind of intense fan-service scene. It’s because it lacked that kind of character development? It was me watching avengers infinity war with vision and wanda. I didn’t like the couple because i didn’t get it. I didn’t know their history i thought it was just some random very bland peaceful couple being very dramatic about each other all the time. Another example (i’m not shitting on this aspect i swear 😂) when a cartoon shows an example of a ‘romantic movie scene’ where the couple says “i loove you!!” And the other goes “oh bill!!” You don’t swoon because you’re like… okay. You get the oogies/ick because it’s like ‘ew that’s a couple’ anyways what I’m trying to say is that moon and pluto are not typical besties they’re supposed to be two problems kind of, they’re two very intense and bare planets, so harmonious flowing energy between them will feel kind of unsettling? Even. So these people will be kind of ‘gross’ with each other but in a soothing way. It’s how you imagine such a trine to be, but it plays out exactly like this irl too lmao! It feels bland on the outside because it’s always going well. And on the inside it plays in the background, because issues bring moon and pluto stuff to the foreground as a ‘theme’ in the relationship. So this aspect is also is the simple idea-of-a-passionate relationship. It’s the groaning “I’ll never let you go!!” Which doesn’t hit the same way for some people because there isn’t any drama or shit that happened before to deserve this pay off. However, some people loooove this aspect and by that I mean people in real life who like to have a secure and deep relationship where two hidden parts of people correspond and love each other well. This aspect is reaallly hard to let go of lol.

Sun conjunct mars: I call this the ‘spicy friends’ aspect. This is the aspect of two people who get into shenanigans together. I also see this aspect a lot with romantic couples who got together young, because it makes for boy-girl relations where the boy actually gets motivated by the person the girl is and the girl feels understood on the same level by the boy. They don’t get bored and so these people will forever get on or be aggravated by each other. It’s because these are two extremely conscious ‘in the moment’ planets so they easily fire off each other and it doesn’t take a lot of energy to have that interaction. Not in the plutonically karmic way, but in a personal way I currently cannot describe. No in between. It creates a bond that people can’t really get in between. You just have to let them stay friends/buds until they get sick of each other, and they may even repeat the process after that. Either way, this is an aspect that makes people get together fast ! Their conscious behaviour is accelerated by each other.

Sun conjunct venus: unlike mars, venus is a cold planet, which is totally okay in a synastry, only the interaction plays out a little different. Sun and venus don’t fire off each other. Their influence on each other is more passive and more ‘mental’. The sun, how basic it may sound, warms venus or even makes them burn. Venus gives the sun person chills. The venus person is responsible for the harmony and awesome functionality that this aspect brings. They will take a step back to fully adore and admire sun from afar sometimes. The sun will run to venus basically when it needs love and beauty and also a kind of sensibility that the sun person misses, like a puzzle piece. Sun brings heat and passion that the venus craves. These people will often crave for how the other person makes them feel. Venus typically loves every little thing the sun person does and the sun person is just taken by the venus person every single day. Think Oliver (venus) and Loretta (sun) from Only Murders In The Building. This aspect makes for real contentment in a relationship.

Mars in twelfth house synastry or composite: with this placement, you’re not even sure if the person is actually even attracted to you and if you’re making it all up in your head. This is also typically seen as a ‘synastry/composite of secrets’ which I wasn’t so sure about at the time I experienced this one myself, but now I realise, hey, that man actually had a girlfriend while he was giving me ‘special attention’ while holding back, with me being like ‘what could he mean what could he MEAN’ typical mars in twelfth scenario. One guy I had this with in composite was basically lying to me about his sex life and not having cheated on his previous girlfriend… and guess what… I had lied about my sexual history too 😭 I even thought to myself ‘why the f*ck did I lie that elaborately??? I didn’t even have to??’ But whatever, it’s the way of the worlds apparently 😂 but you see how this immediately creates distrust when it is not actually what we mean to do or coming from a place of disrespect. Oh and this aspect in composite also created months of us being like ‘🧍🏻‍♀️….🧍🏻‍♂️’ not normal sexual tension, but sexual tension we weren’t sure should be concreticised out loud or in action. We’d only kissed once Monthsss before which is basically nothing in western european student culture. It was like: “does this person know I’m still, in this moment, attracted to/like him/her? Am I making this all up in my head?”

Moon in the 8th house: a lot has been said about this aspect. Just a few things: intensity, yes. Either one will always be a significant person for the rest the person’s lives. It’s not nothing. It’s the basis of real all consuming love that’s a very rare and unique mix between total safety and total rush-like danger, which makes people think it’s a soulmate aspect. It’s actually not, imo, it’s a deeply (deeeeply) karmic aspect. It’s funny to see all the friends with benefits who have this aspect start out as “lol we don’t want a relationship” to “……. Lol nevermind” and end up together. They go back to each other because they’re simply too significant to each other. Fear of being vulnurable is also big on both so they either take that step or they’re just standing there forever. Mutual aspect, but it’s mutual in different ways. Truthfully, I don’t see this aspect so often in relationship charts. I see it with people who are in love with each other and aren’t together, or people who started out casual but still for some reason can’t let each other go after more than a year, or people who have had the roughest most obsessive breakup in history and ask me for advice. Often, people in relationships who have this aspect don’t come to astrologers for advice. They’re too ‘into’ one another to do that, I feel like.

Venus trine moon: cute cute cUTE because the venus loves reassuring the moon person with affection, which makes the moon person feel so safe and endorphined and warm. The moon person simply inspires that in venus! Great for a chart with more difficult aspects !

Moon conjunct jupiter: so if a guy is jupiter and the moon is a woman and they’re married, the woman doesn’t need to worry about jupiter feeling turned off from the relationship by her pregnancy. Moon is the feminine, the nurturer, the mother, jupiter adores and respects her. Jupiter inspires respect, optimism, friendships and all things serotonin. Jupiter will make the moon feel good. The kind of union where the guy will constantly declare how much he lovees her pregnancy glow ✨ the same goes ofc for lesbian relationships but since this is a cultural phenomenon i thought i might touch on it.

Moon opposite jupiter: i feel like this might be the opposite story :/ the girls motherhood and need for support and needs in general will just be the opposite to what the jupiter person finds ‘fun’ and joyful, BUT if they’ve made it this far in the relationship as to have a child together it should be okay. At least the cause of the behaviour would moreso be astrology, not misogyny.

Moon square jupiter: wife jokes, but the ones that are cute and funny.

Moon in third:

Being someone with a moon in third house be like: wow imagine going through something hard and not type 10k words in your notes app about it.

Having your moon overlay in someone’s third house be like: wow imagine going through something and not telling that person 10k words about it

Also: jupiter has such an underrated influence on us in astrology!! Jupiter radiates the most energy out of all the planets in our solar system and may be way more personal and influential than we think in astrology… And in synastry also it’s the MOON

[lostgirlmuseum]

Who the Hell is Daryl?

Summary: Bucky is in love with you, and finally finds the courage to tell you. But what happens when it sounds like someone else is already in the picture? (Miscommunication!)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x f!Avenger!Reader

Words: 2k

Warnings: Miscommunication trope! Only one small mention of “Y/N”, teensy bit of yelling, let me know if I missed anything.

A/N: Wrote this a couple days ago and put it in drafts, spontaneously posted bc I'm procrastinating on an essay. Okay I'll get back to hw now :(

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

He was going to do it. He was really going to do it. 

He was finally going to ask you out.

-----

To the surprise of everyone on the team, you and Bucky had become fast pals after you joined six months ago. Something about the two of you clicked. ‘Opposites attract’ and all that, but Bucky always felt it went deeper than that.

The two of you had never argued, something he felt very proud of, considering he argued with most people. But not you. Never you.

The moment he decided that he needed to man up and ask you out wasn’t anything fancy. You were sparring with Wanda across the gym, and he was simply watching you work in tandem. He watched the entire 15 minute session, and didn’t take his eyes off you, even as you approached him. 

“Buck, I’m out of water, can I take a sip of yours?”

He nodded, “Sure, Doll,” and tossed you his bottle. 

You shot him a charming smile and opened the cap, and not-so-gracefully chugged half the bottle. You wiped your upper lip and handed it back to him. 

“Thanks, Jamie,” you breathily said, and jogged back to the arena. 

His head was completely empty except for a single thought, tumbling through his desert mind like a tumbleweed.

I’m going to marry her someday.

He shocked himself with the thought, he wasn’t sure where it had come from. But he couldn’t help the grin that snuck its way onto his lips as he realized he didn’t disagree with the thought.

Of course before marriage is dating. One step at a time Buck. 

After his realization, he had spent the next three days planning the perfect way to ask you out. He went through an entire list of ideas, but none of them seemed good enough for you. He wanted it to be perfect. But as the clock ticked on and he started running out of paper, he realized it was best to just be honest about his feelings. 

You had just gotten back from a solo mission, and Bucky was hanging out in your room as you showered.

He was blushing like an idiot and fidgeting like crazy on your bed as he waited for you to hurry up. It was surprising he had so much self control as to not blurt it out while you were showering.

“Oh, Bucky,” you called from the bathroom, the sound of the water pausing.

“What’s up?”

“Could you set an alarm on my phone for 7:30 A.M. tomorrow before I forget? I think I left it on the side table.”

“You got it, Doll.”

“You’re the best! I’m almost done, I’ll be out in like two minutes,” you called, and soon after the sound of rushing water resumed.

Bucky grabbed your phone and typed in the passcode, his heart fluttering a little as he thought about how you trusted him enough to know it.

But the flutter stopped almost as quickly as it started, the moment your phone turned on and resumed on your text string with someone. He would’ve ignored it, but a red heart at the top of the screen caught his eye.

Who the hell is “Daryl,” and why does he have a heart emoji next to his name?

Bucky couldn’t help himself as his eyes flitted over your last texts.

Daryl ❤️ I’m back in town, lemme know when you’re around 

You About to leave for a quick mission, but I’ll be back tmw evening. I miss you sm :( how about we meet up Monday morning at 8 at Bernie’s cafe?

Daryl ❤️ Lets do it. And I miss you too, can’t wait to see your beautiful face!! I love you, be careful

You Love you too, and Im always careful 😘

Bucky felt sick to his stomach. You had never mentioned a brother named Daryl, or any other kind of family member. And you’d told him about all your closest friends, and none of them were named Daryl. How did Bucky not know you had a boyfriend?

Bucky fought the urge to scroll up, and quickly tapped out of the app, and set the alarm you asked him to set. 

So you were meeting this “Daryl” tomorrow morning?

Bucky heard the water stop, and the sound of the shower curtain shuffling.

Shit. You were getting out. Fuck, he wasn’t ready to face you.

You’d never mentioned you were in a relationship before. He would remember. How long have you been dating? And more importantly, why did you keep this from him? Did you feel like you couldn’t trust him? Maybe you weren’t as close friends as he’d thought.

“Which movie did you want to watch tonight?” You asked, peeking out of the door with a turquoise towel wrapped around you.

“Um, I’m actually really tired, suddenly. I think I’m going to go to bed.” Bucky stuttered, avoiding your gaze as he quickly stood up.

“Oh, okay,” you responded, disappointment and concern lacing your voice. “Everything okay?”

“Everything is fine. Glad you got back safe. Good night.”

With that, Bucky ducked out of your room and practically ran back to his.

Bucky tossed and turned, and once he got over his embarrassment, he settled into a familiar depressive feeling. Of course you didn’t like him back. What the fuck was he thinking? He’s—well, he’s Bucky. Broken, only destined to ever be your friend. How could he be foolish enough to think you would love him like he loves you. At about hour 4, the heartbreak started turning into betrayal. Betrayal that you kept this from him. And soon enough, that betrayal festered into a kind of resentment, something he’d never felt for you before.

He didn’t get much sleep that night.

Bucky checked the clock for the 20th time in the past 5 minutes. 7:45 A.M. You were probably about to leave. Bucky felt his heart clench. He was usually up by 7, and eating breakfast in the common area by 7:30. He sat at the barstool, dragging his spoon around his now soggy Coco Puffs, waiting for you to appear. Why he felt the need to torture himself, he didn’t know.

Finally, he heard your steps coming down the hall. 

And there you appeared, wearing the most beautiful sundress he had ever seen. It was lavender, and had small white flowers adorning the skirt, and it fell just above your knees. 

Bucky took you in, and his momentary adoration turned back to his heartbreak. You were dressed up as if you were going on a date. There was no chance this wasn’t your boyfriend.

“Good morning Bucky, did you sleep okay last night?” 

“Yes.” He lied. Maybe you would tell him the truth if he asked. Yes it would hurt hearing the truth from your mouth, but he wanted to give you a chance to tell him your secret. “Where are you headed?”

“To meet a friend,” you nodded smoothly. 

Maybe Bucky was crazy. Maybe he was overthinking all of this. Maybe Daryl really was just a friend.

“Which friend?”

“Penny.”

So you were just flat out lying to him now. Bucky nodded and waited for you to leave before moping back to his room. He wanted to cry. And he did for a minute, or two, but his tears turned from sad to angry when he remembered you were now lying. You never lied to Bucky, and Bucky never lied to you. At least, he thought that was how it was. He clenched his fists, mad at you for betraying him, but more mad at himself for believing he could ever have you.

He didn’t move from his bed.

“Bucky?” Your voice emerged after three knocks to his door.

He couldn’t get himself to respond. 

The door slowly creaked open, a stream of light flooding his dark room.

“Hey Buck. You okay? You seemed a little off this morning.”

“Fine.” He mumbled, not turning over in bed to face you.

A pause. 

“Jamie, what’s wrong?” You asked, closing the door behind you and flicking on the light. 

“Don’t call me that.”

“What?” You asked, slightly taken aback. You thought he loved your affectionate nickname for him.

“I don’t want you to call me ‘Jamie’ anymore.”

“Okay…”

He felt the bed dip as you sat next to him. 

“Bucky,” you whispered, “please talk to me.”

He sat up and gave you a pointed look. Was he being immature? Yes. But what could he do, he just discovered that his best friend has been lying to him, and doesn’t love him.

“Where were you?” He asked.

You furrowed your brows a moment, trying to piece together where he was going with this. 

“I was at Bernie’s with Penny.”

“Don’t lie to me.” He sneered.

Your eyes widened at his bite.

“I’m not lying? Bucky, what is going on?”

“What’s going on is that you’ve been keeping the fact that you have a boyfriend from me. Why don’t you want to tell me?”

“A boyfriend?” You blinked. “I don’t have a boyfriend,”

“Why won’t you be honest with me?” He yelled, and you scooted back.

“I am!”

“Then who is Daryl?”

“What?”

“I saw your texts last night, when you asked me to set your alarm.” Bucky looked down at his lap, ashamed.

“Bucky,” you sighed, and a look of understanding crossed your face. A moment later you held out your phone to him.

“What?” He asked, dumbly looking at your outstretched hand. The screen was on your text string with Daryl.

“Call the number.” You simply said.

“What?” He repeated.

“Take my phone, and call the number.”

Confused and suspicious, Bucky grabbed your phone and hesitated over the call icon. 

“Go ahead,” you urged.

He pressed the button. 

Ring.

Ring.

Ri—

“Hey!” A familiar feminine voice rang through the speaker. “What’s up hon?”

“Hello?” Bucky said, looking from the phone to you to the phone.

“Uh, hi? Is that Bucky?”

“P—Penny?” He sputtered.

“Hey Bucky! What’s up, is everything okay? I thought Y/N was calling.”

“Hey Pen,” you interjected, “Everything’s fine, I’ll call you back in a bit, kay’?”

“Sure thing, bye, love ya,” Penny added, and hung up.

Bucky stared at the now blank phone, baffled.

“I don’t understand.”

“Bucky,” you sighed, and tilted his chin to look at you. “I don’t have a boyfriend. Penny is in my contacts as “Daryl” because it’s my funny little nickname for her. My Dad has had a best friend since grade school named Daryl, and they don’t see each other often, but when they do it’s like nothing has changed. They get along like no time has passed. I call Penny “my Daryl” because I know that even if we don’t talk for years, we are so close that I know we would be the exact same.”

Bucky sat quietly for a moment, simply taking in your story. He felt really stupid.

“I’m sorry,” he started, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you. I’m sorry I called you a liar.” He struggled to meet your gaze, ashamed of what he did.

“Jamie—can I call you Jamie now?”

He nodded sheepishly.

“Jamie, I forgive you. But I wish you had just talked to me about it, and asked me. We are usually so good about being open with each other. What happened?” You asked, wide eyes looking into his.

“I know, I’m sorry. I flipped out, I guess I was just shocked, because I was going to—” he licked his lips, “well, I was…”

“You can tell me, Bucky. Honesty, remember?” You soothed, placing your hand on his leg.

He gulped.

“I was going to ask you to be with me.”

You tilted your head, not quite understanding.

“Like, I was gonna ask if you’d let me be your boyfriend.” He mumbled. “So when I saw that you were texting and saying ‘I love you’ to some guy, I guess I was just blindsided.”

“James,” you smiled, moving yourself to sit on his lap. You brought your forehead against his. “You silly, jealous man.” You gently stroked his cheek with your right hand. “You want to be my boyfriend?"

"It sounds so juvenile, I don't know, I just want you to be mine, and for you to call me 'yours,'" he mumbled.

"I accept," you giggled, and watched his glittering eyes shoot to yours.

He had started to say something, but he stopped when you brought your soft lips to his.

“I'm so happy,” he whispered between kisses.

Suffice it to say, Bucky completed step one of the path to marrying you.

A/N: Tysm for reading! If you liked it, please feel free to let me know!

Also I'm sorry if the ending sucks, I wrote this in a couple hours and Idk why I'm so bad at endings gahh

Here's my Masterlist if you'd like to read more!

[msschemmenti]

valentines date auction

a/n: please do not fight me... i meant to finish and post this before valentine's days. i also started this like 9 months ago. i'm working through my drafts, bear with me please.

prompt: ava convinces the staff to throw a valentine's day fling to raise money for the school.

“So this year to bring in some extra money, I’ve come up with a brilliant idea. I think you’re all going to love it because it involves all of my favorite things.” Ava announced at the mic with a smile causing the teachers to roll their eyes. 

“Get on with it.” Melissa called from her seat in the gym. Barbara leaned over to swat her thigh as a warning but Melissa wasn’t too worried about her when she felt the younger woman on her other side shaking with giggles at her comment. Y/n Y/Ln, Abbott Elementary’s new PE teacher. She’d been working there since the start of the school year and she was approaching her first year with Abbott. She’d somehow wormed her way into the core group of teachers at Abbott and she unknowingly wormed her way into the forefront of Melissa Schemmenti’s mind. 

“We’re doing a Valentine’s Day Date Auction!” Ava grinned as she clicked to another slide on her powerpoint. “I’ll be auctioning off dates with our most attractive staff! And before you ask if this is legal, I don’t care. It’s for the children. So who wants in?” The room filled with concerned silence as no one made a move to sign up. “Oh don’t act like you people are getting dates on your own. This could be great for you,” At the continued silence Ava sighed, “Fine, the dates will be to wherever you like with a credit to handle the cost. It’s a free outing, people.” 

There’s a bit more bite and people’s hands started to raise in agreement. Melissa and Barb both shook their heads as Ava wrote people’s names down. “I can’t believe anyone is agreeing to this.” Melissa groaned.

“Who’re you telling, girlfriend? My Gerald would never participate in an auction like this and that’s the only man I’ll ever go on a date with.” 

“It must be so nice to not have to go through the whole courting stage anymore. It’s so exhausting trying to find a date nowadays.” Y/n grumbled crossing her legs as she leaned over to speak to Barb. 

“Oh don’t tell me you struggle to find a date?” Melissa eyed suspiciously. 

“Oh yeah. It’s hard out here. It’s so hard in fact that I will be the grand finale of this auction.” Y/n grimaced as both of the older women eyed her in shock.

“You’re up for sale?” Melissa asked incredulously. 

“Not for sale, more like for rent.” Y/n corrected causing both women to roll their eyes. “Oh come on, it’s for a good cause and I get a free meal out of it. There aren’t really any cons. I could meet my wife.” 

Barb seemed to be sold a bit on the idea, but the redhead was still on the fence. She and the PE teacher had been doing a bit of a flirtatious tango all year and she could never really tell if she was serious or not. Melissa had gotten to a point in her life where she really didn’t question who she was attracted to anymore, but she hadn’t figured out how to tell who was seriously attracted to her yet. Casual flirting aside, Melissa really didn’t know what Y/n’s type was. And she definitely didn’t have the guts to find out if she was her type. But that didn’t mean she wanted to see her auctioned off to some young philly broad.

“Plus it was either me or Gregory. He looked like he was going to have a heartattack when Ava asked which of us was going to seal the deal. I do what I can to keep you core teachers alive.” Y/n smirked with a final shrug. That caused both older women to chuckle, one easier than the other, but Y/n didn’t seemed to notice the confliction on Melissa’s face. 

Once Ava was satisfied with the number of teachers on her Valentine’s Day Auction roster, she closed the meeting out and release the teachers to their evenings. She hurried down the steps of the steps of the stage to catch Y/n as she stood up from her seat next to Melissa. 

“Y/n, how do you feel about dressing up as a construction worker?” Ava asked excitedly as she pulled up a picture on her phone. 

“Absolutely not. You’ll be lucky if I show up in something other than a track suit.” Y/n said pushing the woman’s phone away from her face. 

“What about-” Ava started. 

“No.” Y/n cut her off with her best smile. She reached up and patted Ava’s shoulder with a shake of her head. “Keep asking and I won’t show up at all.” That last threat seemed shut Ava up with a grumble. She sulked off with her roster and headed for her office as everyone readied themselves to go home for the night. Y/n looked at the two veteran teachers with smiles, “Alright ladies, I’ll see you both tomorrow. Have a great evening.” 

“You too Y/n.” Barbara smiled as she head for the door, Melissa trailing behind a bit as she caught the PE teachers eyes. 

“See ya kid.” Melissa called, causing the younger teacher to shoot a wink over her shoulder as she moved to help Mr. Johnson clear the chairs from the gym. Melissa’s cheeks heated as she rounded the corner out of them gym and fell in step with Barb. They briefly parted to lock up their classrooms and when they hit the couple of steps outside of the school Melissa was shocked for the second time within the last hour. 

“So are you gonna bid on Y/n or tell her how you feel before the auction?” Barb asked with a knowing smirk.

“What?” Melissa asked incredulously trying to hide the heat rising to her cheeks. 

“Oh don’t play dumb with me. You’ve been all but drooling over her for the better part of the school year. I don’t think I can watch it for much longer. This is your chance to make a move. She said it herself, she’s single and very much looking. So much so that she’s agreed to auction off and evening with herself. What can you need?” 

“Maybe any sort of indication that she feels the same way? I mean yeah we casually flirt, but how am I suppose to pursue anything if the whole thing was just a joke to her?” Melissa scowled.

“I highly doubt that’s the case. Do you know how many times Ava has attempted to do that whole flirting thing with her? Or the amount of parents, suddenly concerned with the PE curriculum. She hasn’t shown anyone as much attention as she consistently shows you.” Barb listed as Gerald pulled into the lot next Melissa’s car. Barbara smiled and waved at her husband before turning to look at her friend, “You’ve got to make a move girlfriend, before one of these parents snatch your chance at the auction.”

Melissa grumbles but heads to her home to think over what her friend said. She hated how right Barb sounded.

-

The Valentine’s Auction came much sooner than anyone was ready for. The morning of the event seemed to have the entire teachers lounge buzzing with excitement and trepidation. Janine, ever the chatty Kathy had taken to questioning everyone on what they planned to wear tonight. As soon as Y/n entered the room, Janine was up and buzzing. 

“Oh Y/n! What are you wearing tonight?” The shorter woman bounced on her heels next to the PE teacher as she doctored up a mug of tea. 

“Why? What have you heard?” Y/n asked suspiciously, hoping Ava hasn’t somehow told everyone about her costume ideas.

“Well I just want to make sure I’m not the only one wearing festive things. And I wanna make sure we’re not wearing the same thing of course. Wouldn’t want the fashion police to have a ‘who wore better’ moment.” Janine rambled and Y/n nodded following as much as she could. 

“Oh. I don’t know yet. I’ve got a couple pink tracksuits that might really draw people in.” Y/n chuckled taking her seat next to Melissa with a grin. “What do you think, is Nike sexy enough to secure a date with a Philly eleven like yourself?” 

Melissa rolled her eyes at Barbs foot kicking her under the table, “I’m sure you could pull a Philly eleven wearing far less than a pink Nike tracksuit.”

Y/n smiled and winked at the older teacher before turning her attention back to Janine, “Listen Janine. I highly doubt we’ll be wearing the same thing but don’t worry, I’ll have something within the valentines color scheme on.” The second grade teacher nodded, heading back to her seat. 

“So you’re both coming tonight right?” Y/n asked hopefully. 

“Yep, Gerald and I will be there. I wouldn���t want to miss seeing you meet your date.” Barb smiled with raised eyebrows. 

“How about you Red? Gonna be there to bail me out if some crazy bids on me?” Y/n asked.

“Anything for you, hun.” Melissa smiled, knowing those words held a lot more weight than she was letting on. 

“Good. I’ll see you both later than.” Y/n smiled squeezing Melissa’s shoulder affectionately before heading to the gym. 

-

“Welcome to the Avalentine’s Day Auction! We’re so glad you could all join us for our fundraising event this school year. As you know, Abbott is always looking for ways to better our school for your students and with that in mind, I hope you brought your checkbooks and rich friends because we’ve got some sexy staff members ready to go home with you all for a good cause.” Ava smiled looking out over the crowd. 

As Ava stood on the stage, Melissa sat in a table toward the back of the room with Barb, Gerald, and Gregory. Jacob and Janine were off scoping the potential bidders out. She herself was scoping the room out as well, but she was mostly looking for Y/n. She hadn’t seen her since that morning and part of her was much more desperate to see her than she usually allowed herself. It didn’t help that she had brought her checkbook and knew a part of her was willing to drain her savings to keep Y/n from going out with one of these young broads. As if she realized she looked ridiculous scanning the room, Melissa turned back to her table companions. Janine and Jacob came back shortly after Melissa pulled herself from her own search. Janine panting out of breath and Jacob grinning mischievously ready to spill the details of their crowd search. 

“There are quite a few people here. And we heard a lot of interest.”

“Interest in the two of you?” Melissa found herself asking. She didn’t mean to sound so shocked but it just came out that way. Both of the younger teachers shrank a bit but recovered when the redhead looked apologetic.

“Not exactly. Most of the women here are torn between being disappointed Gregory isn’t up there and excited that Y/n is. Speaking of, has anyone see her? I wanna see what outfit she went with.” Jacob said rising from his seat to scan the room. Oblivious to the panic he’d cause within Melissa. 

“Oh there she is, damn! She cleans up nice.” Janine called as she drew the groups attention to the doors to the gym. And Melissa damn near forgot how to breathe. Y/n paused in the doorway scanning the room, for their group presumably, but she was dressed in something none of them had ever seen her in. Gone were her trainers, baggy sweats, and matching hoodie sets. She was clad in fitted high waisted trousers and a matching vest top that showed just enough skin to have Melissa’s mind running. Her hair was held back by a red head band that matched her red ankle boots and leather jacket. Melissa was at a true loss for words. Y/n spotted the group and started making her way over with a smile. 

Before she could get too close Melissa felt Barb’s hand cup her chin and push up, “Close your mouth, you’ll catch flies.” She teased lightly causing Gerald to chuckle. 

Tonight was going to be a long long night. And she knew in her heart she might leave broker than she already was. 

-

“Alright ladies, this last one is for you!” Ava grinned as she motioned for Y/n to come up to the stage. 

The PE teacher grimaced and looked at the people at her table nervously, “Wish me luck.” She called before leaving to be paraded around the stage. She made it to the stairs and as she came into the view for the room, the cheers followed. Her cheeks heated in embarrassment but she trudged on reminding herself of the cause and the prospect of a decent meal on Ava’s dime. 

“Last but certainly not least. The finest thing to happen to Abbott Elementary since I became principal. Our PE teacher, Y/n Y/Ln! Strut your stuff boo!” Ava introduced causing the room to erupt further. And Melissa’s scowl to set. 

“She’s very fit as you can see. Super funny and super hot. She could probably bench you. Let’s start the bidding at $50?” Ava started. That didn’t last long though. Hands and paddles shot up eagerly at the price. So far, no one had gone for over $150, but Ava had a feeling Y/n was going to be the exception. 

“Can I get a $100 then? $150? $200?” Ava called and some hands dropped but there were still quite a few waving in the air. Ava motioned for Y/n to do a spin on the stage and she obliged if only to make the whole thing go a bit faster. 

“Alright how about $300?” That seemed to do it and there was one hand left up. Y/n recognized her, Lauren Williams. She’d been one of the first people to schedule a meeting with Y/n when she started claiming her son had some health issues that may impact his participation in the gym class. After the first meeting, it was very clear her son had no problems and it was really just a ploy to get the gym teacher alone. She’d been dodging her since she started and she really wasn’t looking forward to how this was going. 

“300 going once, going twice…” Ava called waving the bedazzled gavel she’d gotten herself. Until a familiar hand shot up at the back table. “I see 350? Alright Schemmenti, I see you.” Ava grinned. “Do I hear 400?” Lauren’s hand was back up, quickly. “450? Anyone?” 

All eyes shifted to Melissa to see her contemplation before she waved her hand again and Ava squealed in delight. Everyone of the teachers at the table looked at her incredulously but her eyes were darting between Lauren’s head and the stage.

“450 going once, going twice, and…” Before Ava could even finish, Lauren shot to her feet and called out. 

“500!” Everyone in the room looked at the woman in shock. 

“What?” Y/n asked in shock. Eyes goes to Ava in alarm. $500 for a date with her was absolutely insane. Anyone willing to pay that had to b crazy.

“Sold!” Ava grinned. And the room erupted in applause.

-

Melissa was sulking in her seat when Y/n finally returned to table. She couldn’t believe she’d been outbid like that. Part of her was happy considering she wasn’t really prepared for the financial consequences of this little auction, but that didn’t make her forget the date Y/n would be going on with Lauren. Everyone else was scattered around the gym. Dancing with their dates, eating the refreshments, or playing the various valentine’s day them games that they had set up. The redhead didn’t look up when the younger teacher joined her but she knew exactly who had joined her even without looking.

“Damn red, if you wanted to go out with me that bad you could’ve just asked me. I wouldn’t have charged $500 for one night. I might’ve made you cook for me, but five big ones is asking a bit much especially when I actually like you.” Y/n said taking a sip of the punch they were serving. Melissa gazed at the younger woman a little dumbfounded but she didn’t seem to notice as she continued to talk. “Lauren and I are gonna go mini golfing Saturday morning, yuck I know. But I was thinking you and I could do dinner Saturday, if you’re not busy. That way I can get that out of the way. Do you she’ll try to kill me? I’m a little scared and I know I said there were no cons but that was before she basically jumped on the table to ensure she could spend $500 on an hour of my time…” Y/n continued to ramble. 

Melissa had no choice but to laugh as she listened. “Is this you asking me out?” The older woman finally interrupted, trying to play it cool. 

“I didn’t think I needed to ask you formally, since you almost spent $1,000 to keep me from going out with someone else.” Y/n grinned as she finally faced Melissa. 

“Oh you’re exaggerating now.” Melissa scoffed as her cheeks heated a bit. 

“Well duh, who else can say they had a Philly eleven start a bidding war over them. I’m going to milk this as much as I can. I’ll wear it as a badge of honor. Melissa Schemmenti almost emptied her bank account for me.”

“Oh shut it will you.” Melissa groaned and shoved the younger teacher playfully. “The answer is yes. Even if you don’t think you need to ask me formally. I’d love to do dinner Saturday night. And any other night you’d like.” 

“Good. Cause I can be very hungry. And all I’ve heard is that you’re like the best cook in Philly.” Y/n grinned scooting her folding chair over closer to Melissa’s. 

“Oh you’re in for a treat. And a Schemmenti meal is worth well over five hundred bucks.” Melissa teased. 

“Yeah, well so are you Red.” Y/n smiled softly leaning over to kiss Melissa’s blushing cheek sweetly. 

Outbid but extremely happy.

[twyftwyt]

part 2 to this little imagine that I posted earlier today (since you guys seemed to like it very much)

Pairings: Noah Sebastian x Reader

Warnings: smut 18+ (a little at the end), angst

Authors note: so this started as a little imagine I wrote in my drafts a few days ago and I got so many positive comments to expand it, so you know, i gotta give it you, it’s only fair; let me know if you’d like me to continue this story as I have quite a few ideas for it

…you have more pieces of me than the desert has sand

and i have less pieces of you than I can hold in my hand…

By the time we reached my house my tears had dried and I’d calmed myself down as much as I could. Noah stayed silent the whole drive home and it crushed me a little that he didn’t fight back on what I said earlier. Silence was agreement, in my eyes. And he seemed to be on the same page with what I said.

He parked the car in front of my house and turned off the engine. The low hum coming from the speakers fell silent and the air felt even thicker now. Neither one of us knew what to say or do next and I didn’t want to leave like that. But I wasn’t going to be the first to speak either. I was too scared to look at him, as well. I knew that the moment I looked at him, I’d cave and try to hug him. Or say something to make this whole situation better. But the truth was that it was better left this way. We needed time. I needed time.

“Can I walk you to the front door?”

I wanted to say “yes”, believe me, I did. But it was not gonna be like the usual times, where he’d walk me to the door, kiss and hug me, sometimes even try to come in, and I’d let him. I knew this time was gonna be tough and heavy. And so I decided to politely decline.

“I can walk myself to my house, Noah. It’s fine.”

I knew that came out a bit harsher than I wanted it to be, but I didn’t have the capacity to be nicer. I was hurting and I had all the right reasons for my emotional state right now. My eyes were red and puffy, my lips - swollen, my heart felt heavy in my chest.

“Don’t be this way, please. It is shit enough as it is. Just let me walk you.”

“Why? You can wait in the car until I close the door”

“Get out of my car then.”

I didn’t expect that kind of an answer and so I finally looked up at him. Same blank expression, right hand firm on the steering wheel. Did he really just tell me to get out of his car?!

“You know, I wanted to be nice to you. End this night on a more positive note. But since I see you’ve managed to bring your attitude with your goodnight’s, have it your way. Asshole.”

My tears were bubbling up again and I didn’t wait long enough for him to see them streaming down my face. I took my keys in my hand and got off the passenger seat, slamming the door. By the time I reached the patio my vision was blurry and my hands were shaking. I managed to put the key in the hole and didn’t look twice before slamming the door to my house as well. He could go to hell for all I care about.

I can’t properly remember how I managed to take a shower and tidy up my room before I got into bed, all I knew was almost six months of building something with someone just went to shit. And I should’ve known from the start. I should’ve seen the signs, I should’ve taken my friends’ advices when they told me numerous times to not deal with a man like him. I should’ve listened. I should’ve left when he said he doesn’t know what a healthy relationship feels and looks like. I should’ve left when he stayed silent for all of our arguments. I should’ve left when he said he wasn’t ready. But of course, I’ve always been known to go against my instincts. Like I did the first time I met him.

I got invited to a friend of a friend’s party at the Hollywood Hills, a place I wasn’t very fond of and up until the last moment, I decided not to attend. And if you ask me now, why I changed my mind all of a sudden, I won’t be able to come up with and adequate answer. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to explain everything that happened that night.

It was a nice pool house, looking over the hills, all white and minimalistic and the music was booming all around. There were people everywhere and liquor, lots and lots of liquor. I wasn’t used to going to parties. At least not anymore. I preferred having my peace of mind at home, with a movie or working on something. And so when I arrived at said party, I wished I could teleport anywhere but here. That’s up until I met him. Noah.

Noah, Noah, Noah.

The first time I laid my eyes on him he was leaning against a wall, holding a bottle of beer in one hand and a phone in the other. I found it amusing that he was wearing sunglasses inside but I kinda understood why. I’d wear a pair too if it made me look less approachable. He was looking at the screen of his phone, scrolling away his life. He was wearing all black. Black “The Witch” shirt that immediately caught my attention. Black sweats and what looked like skull slides with white socks. In all honesty, he looked ridiculous for a party. I must have stared at him for too long, cause he picked his head up from his phone and looked my way. I quickly moved my glance from him and focused on a girl trying to get into the pool, but soon enough I felt the air move around me and the smell of a strong perfume enveloped me.

“That’s a cute pajama.”

I tuned to face the man who called my boho pants “pajama”, ready to call him out, but quickly froze when I was met with the piercing eyes of the man I had just spent 10 minutes staring at.

“And that’s a bold first thing to say to anyone.”

“Not as bold as your fashion statement.”

Cheeky.

“Says the man wearing skull slides and sunglasses indoors.”

He laughed at me and raised his beer up to my face.

“Cheers to that.”

We locked eyes and I felt my knees getting weak.

I checked my phone one last time before I put it on DND and placed on my nightstand. I don’t know why I was expecting a text from him, some sort of explanation, reassurance that everything’s gonna be fine and this was just a stupid spat. I don’t know why I wanted to believe this is not over. I don’t know how I managed to trust him so fast and to get hurt just as fast. I grabbed my phone one last time to check for messages again and my heart sunk once the screen lit up.

“I’ve been sitting in front of your house for almost 2 hours now, trying to figure out what the hell just happened between us. All I know is, I don’t wanna go home tonight. Not like this. I need you.”

The speed at which I went for the stairs almost got me killed. The moment I opened my front door and saw him leaning on the hood of his car made my knees go weak the same way it did when I first saw him. Our eyes locked and I could swear that by the time he reached my patio, he was basically running. His body slammed so hard into mine that it made me trip over my legs and almost knocked me over. His hands were around my waist, his wet lips all over my face and I could feel his dick pressed against my belly.

“Noah..”

Was all I managed to moan in his mouth, while digging my fingers in his hair.

“Let me..” he looked me up and down hungrily and gripped my ass “..inside.”

I was done for.

[dreamrk99]

In another life : mark lee 𐙚 ‧₊˚ ⋅ preview

“In another life me and you would be married “

Cw : crying and unprotected sex

This is genuinely are draft to a story i wrote months ago about mark I decide to post it idk if I’ll ever drop the full version

My lips gently grazed his as I looked down at him from his lap. The view was breathtaking as he looked up at me. His lips spit-slicked, and his eyes droopy and filled with love. My bare torso against his before I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders, my hips being held in place by his ring-clad hands. I let out a soft gasp as I felt his hands guiding my hips so beautifully. Our skin met every time I took a deep breath. "I love you." I sang. Every time my heat tightened around him, feeling his hands make their way to my face. Tears ran down my cheeks.

He kissed the tears away before whispering confessions of love in my ear. He let out the most sensual sound as he emptied himself between my thighs.

"Do you love me ?" I asked, and my faded lipstick smeared on his glossy lips. "I breathe for you," he spoke before pressing kisses to my chest longly, staining it with the faded rouge."Please." I gasped as I ran my fingers through his overgrown black hair. He could only hum as I pulled his head up from my nipples and kissed him lovingly. I kissed him like I was going to die tomorrow. There was nothing I wanted more than to stay in his arms forever, but I knew I couldn't

[amywritesthings]

SILVER UNDERGROUND / deleted scene 01.

levi's pov #1. :: a deleted scene from chapter one. this is an alternate pov of levi's first conversation with james in the trost hospital.

happy silver underground eve! i thought i could give you all a little treat for the very first edition of additional SU content. this is a special levi-only drabble covering his pov when james first wakes up. i wrote it to better understand his own head while writing james' pov, but it wasn't necessary for the final draft. apologies for the pain, my dears. xo this is unedited. 1.8k words / angst, language, mentions of self hatred. :: please remember: this is additional content. nothing in the deleted drabbles are tied to the main content/overall final storyline.

He doesn’t bother knocking.

Levi can’t, not when you’ve been awake for twenty minutes. Twenty whole minutes where he wasn’t there. Twenty fucking minutes where you were alone, lying in a hospital cot, confused and out of sorts and more than likely asking for him.

He was supposed to be there. 

He just didn’t think today would be the day it finally happened.

As he rushes through the hallways of the Trost District hospital, he tries to keep his face neutral. You’re going to need one hell of a recovery period, so he’s going to need to be strong — to hold true to his twilight promises he made six months ago, come what may.

According to Hange, you’d already been gone for several minutes by that time. That didn’t stop him from talking to you through the entire surgery prep process like you could hear him anyway. They’re cutting your shirt now. They’re setting up the blood bag. I’ll sit here all damn day hooked up to it if you need more.

(For someone notorious for silence, he sure had a lot of promises ready on his tongue.)

The door of the medical wing swings wide, and he could fall to his knees then and there: you’re sitting. For fuck’s sake, you’re actually sitting.

You look sickly, disoriented, but your eyes dart across the room towards the sudden intrusion. Your chest rises and falls in your gown. Your fingers are moving just fine.

He can’t say anything — he’s a goddamn coward waiting for the other shoe to drop in this miraculous awakening. 

“Captain Levi!”

Doctor Rini’s voice calls to him, but the captain notices immediately that you don’t turn to the doctor. No. Your eyes never leave him, and it’s… 

Blank.

Maybe you’re just exhausted.

Maybe you’re not quite here in the present yet.

“Doctor,” he replies, clipped to avoid emotion.

“I sent Nurse Phillipa to find you,” Doctor Rini exhales with anxiety.

“I was found.” Levi locks onto sarcasm as a defense mechanism. If it wasn’t for the good doctor, he’d already have been at the foot of your bedside. Begging for forgiveness is hardly enough. I’m sorry. “So?” I’m so sorry. “Tired of sleeping yet, or are we looking at six more months of winter?”

If you’re James, then you’ll tell him that you’d take another six months to avoid him.

If you’re still you, then you’ll tease that his left hand is trembling.

But you stare.

That’s it — that’s all you do.

Stare, and stare, and stare.

“You only look like total shit,” he continues with a snort, “so I guess that’s a good thing.”

“Captain—”

“Apologies for Levi’s intrusion, Doctor Rini.” Your attention turns when Erwin enters the room. Levi almost wants to demand you keep your eyes on him — look at me, James — but the commander speaks for the both of you. “Nurse Phillipa was able to locate me in my office. I had to retrieve Captain Levi personally. Is it alright if we come in, or is she not yet lucid?”

Of course she’s fucking lucid. She’s right here.

Levi takes a few steps forward, tightening his trembling hand into a fist to keep it concealed.

“She is… lucid, Commander.” The doctor stops there. There’s a but coming — he can feel it.

Levi doesn’t like this, not one fucking bit.

“But?” he snaps, glaring the doctor’s way for the first time since he burst into the room.

The doctor sighs with sadness then gestures towards the fallen lieutenant.

“Lieutenant, state your name.”

What?

Levi can’t help how fast his attention whips towards you. His stomach drops to the floor, digging itself into the dirt. You look… scared?

You shouldn’t be scared. He’s here. He promised he’d be here.

“...you originally stated she suffered a major concussion,” Erwin says.

“Yes, I did,” the doctor agrees, “and I also stated on the report that the probability of temporary to permanent post-traumatic memory damage was high.”

You have to be fucking joking.

Erwin states it in plain terms: “In other words, sustained amnesia.”

The fist at his side painfully tightens, his trimmed nails pushing into calloused skin. He sets his jaw, forcing himself to breathe through his nose.

“It never said anything about permanent,” Levi growls, pushing forward away from the doctor, away from the commander, to talk to you himself. Erwin’s fingertips touch his shoulder as if to dissuade him, but there’s nothing — absolutely nothing — that will keep him from this.

There’s no way it’s sustained.

Confusion in the beginning, maybe, but you just needed to talk a little. He’d show them both.

The visitor’s chair screeches against the floor until it hits the edge of your bed. You’re still doe-eyed and lost, lips parted like you’re wanting to speak — he can help. You two practically grew up with the same half-baked brain cell.

“Where are we?” Levi asks, leaning forward in his seat. He stares up at you with a hidden layer of affection, willing for the James he knows — the James he’s always known — to see.

I’m here. Look at me, James, I promised I’d be here.

“Levi,” Erwin warns. He doesn’t get it.

Levi nods his chin, albeit barely. “Answer the question.”

You pause, fidgeting in that way when you’re nervous. “I… don’t know.”

“You do know,” he urges.

“I don’t.”

“Where — are — we?”

“Stohess District?” you guess. It’s not that far off. Maybe he’s not being forceful enough.

“Try again, dumbass.”

Wrong idea — your eyes widen like you’d never been more insulted in your life. He’s jokingly called you worse. “Excuse me?”

“Levi.” Erwin again.

Levi refuses. “What’s this building called?”

“I said I don’t know,” you plead, and your voice sounds so small that it breaks his heart. 

“Do you know what titans are?”

“Of course I know what the fuck titans are.”

His heart flutters at your swear. You’re not entirely lost. “Good. And do you know what the Survey Corps is?”

“Yes, why does this matter?”

“Do you know where you’re from?” If he wasn’t in control, then he’d reach out to your hand. Cup your cheek. Swear on heaven and Earth that you know this one — you just need a little more time. You need to try a little harder.

Yet your shoulders slack. “I don’t.”

Levi’s face drops, his voice taking a sharper edge by accident. “You do. You just aren’t trying hard enough.”

Maybe insults will work.

Maybe spilling his guts of all of his darkest secrets will help.

He’s a man falling through space and time itself, willing the past not to condemn him right now. He’s sinned a great deal in his life, but that doesn’t mean you should suffer for it, too.

Because you know. You know, you know, you know—

“I am trying, asshole,” you hiss, and his face lights up for just a moment.

There you are. There’s that fire. Fight — fight for this, fight with me, just fight.

“Levi,” Erwin interrupts, “that’s enough.”

Maybe it is enough.

Maybe you can rest and try tomorrow, to let you sit in this mental darkness for a little more time, but he’s waited six long months for this.

“So that’s it, then, huh?”

Levi dares to poke at the wound just one more time. You always worked best when adrenaline courses through your veins. That’s why you two were so perfect.

“You’re going to lay down and happily take being a nameless has-been after being stuck in a coma for months?”

But it was the wrong wound.

He regrets his strategy as soon as you look horrified, and he doesn’t have time to quell your fears. Your trust turns to Erwin for the truth. “It’s been months?!”

The fire dies. You’re terrified in this bed, one hiccup away from a panic attack, and Levi is powerless to fight it for you. Erwin takes over and the captain is glad for it — he’s a stone’s throw away from begging.

Come back to me. It was too much to ask of you, but he was selfish enough to ask on your near death bed anyway. Come back to me, James, or I’ll fucking drag you back myself.

But you’re not you.

You’re not you, and he’s the reason for it.

The captain chooses silence as he watches your face, memorizing the slopes of your face. His heart clenches with the hard decision in front of him: Erwin has a clearer head for this. He’s so blinded by his guilt that he’s already hurt you in the first hour of your revival.

Maybe this is his punishment for dragging you into all of this in the first place.

From the Underground City to Hell on Earth, he is the reckoning of your demise.

I think I’d remember the name of this piece of shit — in this case, you mean him.

You’re right. He is a piece of shit.

He is a danger to you.

You are in the middle of talking to Erwin when he abruptly stands from his chair, the wooden legs scraping sickeningly across the floor. Everything is underwater. He feels like his body is shutting down, so he does what he has to:

He turns to leave.

Facing the entrance, he drops his chin to his chest with a defeatist attitude. “This is a waste of time,” he urges the commander, relenting just one moment where he admits he’s fucked this up. 

He’s not the right person for this, even if he’s always been your person.

He’s not the right guide to help you, even if all he’s ever done is hold your hand.

Maybe this is fate.

Maybe this is the second chance he’s always wanted for you — one without the Scouts, without running from the law, without looking over your shoulder.

Maybe Erwin will give you an honorable discharge so you can spend your days in the warmth of the sun.

He could live with that, even if he never sees you again.

“You’re always so quick to walk the fuck away.”

Suddenly his boot scuffs the floor.

His eyes shoot wide, staring at the floor ahead. There’s a splintered floor panel at the frame of the door he’s never noticed in the hundreds of times he’s come here.

For a moment he’s fooled. This could all be an elaborate trick to punish him for the shit he’s done in his life.

(Maybe you do remember, deep down somewhere he cannot follow yet.)

But you were right back then and you were right now: he is quick to walk away—

—if it means that he can't hurt you from this distance.

“I… didn’t mean to say that,” you correct quietly, and his face scrunches to battle the overwhelming bout of grief that washes over him. “I don’t know why I said that, sir. Forgive me.”

Sir.

Not Captain.

Not Ackerman.

Not Levi.

Before he can cause anymore damage, he walks out the door.

Erwin can take it from here.

[certifiedlovergirlsstuff]

oh baby, oh

pairing: jake sully x human!reader

WC: 1.1K

warnings: talks of abortion, cursing. should be it.

summary: you got knocked up, but do you want to keep it?

A/N: a anon sent a request and something just came out of me cause i wrote this in one day. i have a pregnancy fic with jake and na’vi!reader in my drafts. i wanted to do one where they decided now isnt the right time for kids cause, its not always the right time. abortion is completely fine.

masterlist

“what the hell are you saying, max?”

“…you’re pregnant?” he said it as more of a question than the statement he made just a minute ago.

your hands gripped, besides your thighs, the bench you were sitting on. your body hunched and head hung. you let your knees bounce up and down in quick segments before stopping and then starting again.

a sigh came from your nose and you looked back to max, “are you one hundred percent sure? have you done a second check? is- is the- the equipment perfect?” your throat felt strained.

max eyed his dated pad, nodded his head, and even showed you the information. your eyes darted over all the charts and words, everything was correct.

“god damn it,” you mumbled as you closed your eyes and looked to the ceiling. you could feel the tears bubbling to the surface.

“why don’t you take some time to think about this and then-“ “is abortion an option?” you cut max off. his mouth opened and closed. “max, is abortion an option?” you double down on other options than just going through with the pregnancy.

“i- i believe with- with our equipment… it might be an option. but i’m not sure. why don’t you talk with jake-“

“jake doesn’t get a say in the matter, it’s my body.” your anger was getting the best of you.

max held his hands out like you were a scared ikran, “i know. it’s ultimately your choice… but jake is the father. do you mind if i ask? when was your last period?”

you groaned, “max, i can’t keep track. it’s irregular. sometimes i get it for a few days or sometimes it lasts a month. when i didn't get it, i didn’t think anything of it until i got extremely lightheaded and wanted to throw up at the smell of jessie’s cologne.”

he hummed. and you sighed.

“max… i’m not ready to be a mom, i’m only twenty-two.” “well because of cryogenics, technically you would be twenty-eight.” max, always the scientist.

you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, “doesn’t make it better. i- i don’t even know if i want to be a mom.” the first tear fell, followed by more.

you felt max pull you into a hug and you instantly reciprocated with a tight hold. he rubbed soothing circles along your spine and kept telling you everything was going to be alright.

there was a knocking at the door that stole both of your attention and pulled away from each other. you turned and your heart instantly started to beat quickly. jake waited by the entrance for a second before rolling further into the sterile room. his eyes looked between max, who smiled at jake, and then to you as you wiped the moisture from your face.

he rolled his chair to your legs and set a hand on your knee, “hey, hey. what’s wrong?” you didn’t answer right away so he looked to max for anything.

“i’ll leave the two of you for some privacy.” he walked out of the room, the door closing behind him.

you toyed with your hands and bit your bottom lip. the feeling of jake’s hand was the only thing to keep you grounded right now.

“hey,” his deep voice bounced off the walls, “are you okay? what’s wrong, baby?” his thumb ran back and forth over the material of your pants. the pet name cracks your heart.

a shuddering intake of air before you let your eyes travel to meet jake. his brows were furrowed with worry and his eyes looked scared to hear the answer. his grown-out hair spiked in different directions and it made you tick a smile as you ran a hand through the brown locks.

“baby…” he took your free hand and placed a wet kiss on your knuckles. “please, please. let me know what is wrong and if i can fix it?” you decided to go the humorous and quick route to break the news.

“well, for one, you fucked up. and two… i’m pregnant.” you just bit the bullet and got the words off your chest.

the look on jake’s face was the embodiment of glass shattering. and now with your mind in shambles, you weren’t able to see the shift in jake’s eyes. how they were a deer in the headlights and then slowly soften and shined like stars in the night sky.

“fuck, jake. we haven’t even talked about kids in the future. and i’m still not sure if i would want any. i’m not good with children. i have a short temper and i like to be alone. plus i would need therapy so i wouldn’t cause generational trauma-“ “hey.”

jake gave a slight tug to your hands and dipped his head so his eyes would line with yours. you sniffled and pouted as you stared at your boyfriend. he flashed his ever-charming smile and it made your heart feel lighter already.

“for one, i’m sorry i got you pregnant. not my intention when we have sex,” a wet chuckle, “and two… whatever decision you make, i’ll be there for you.” he touched a hand to your cheek and thumbed away the salty tears.

“what- what do you think… do- do you want kids?” fingers clasped his wrist.

“i think,” he kissed your right hand, “that right now we are both a couple of idiots, who are just enjoying their time away from earth.” he grinned at you, “and kids? yeah… i would like to have a family with you one day, but i think we could have better timing. maybe… if we were able to get conscious transfers-“

“ah! i don’t believe that’s an option for us, only eywa can decide who is worthy.” you let your thoughts run with jake’s words, “but… you are fine? with waiting… if i want kids in the future? i mean, i could still not want kids years from now.”

“and that is okay. as long as i have you, that’s all that matters.”

you started getting teary, once again, but you welcomed the droplets. they were formed out of the love and happiness you had for and with jake. how he understood that this was a thing the both of you needed to talk about, but was still your choice in the end.

“i love you, you know that?” “i do, but it wouldn't hurt to hear it more often.”

you rolled your eyes at his playfulness and leaned your head toward jake. both hands holding his face and you let yourself get swept away by the intoxicating taste and feel. how his stubble scratched against your nails and the way his fingers made your skin burn hit with every touch.

jake pulled away and it caused you to whine a little as you chased his lips. his laugh made you lightheaded.

“needy, are we?” “hormones.”

and you pulled him back. and jake didn’t complain or pull away.

...

[supercriminalbean]

Shopping Time

Dave Rossi x GN!Reader

Warning: NSFW. Sex mentioned. Sex Toys. Bondaged. Sir kink. Kinda Sugar Daddy vibes. Kinky stuff. No sex nor intermit stuff just flirting and implied things. Dom and sub relationship vibes

Summary: Your partner takes you to a sex shop first time.

Words: 1.7K

A/N: I completely forgot I wrote this, I found it in my drafts I wrote this like two months ago so damn. Um enjoy

“Woah” Your eyes shoot open at how big the store is as you walk in, surprising you with the amount of people that are inside. A comforting hand is placed on your lower back, helping lead you inside. It was your first ever time inside a sex shop, normally your partner just goes alone and brings back a few things that catches his eyes. 

“If this is too much, you can go wait in the car” Dave leans forward, kissing you on the cheek. 

“No I want to look around” Leaning backwards into his touch, only pulling away once your hand is intertwined with his.

“Okay” He squeezes your hand softly as he leads you further into the store. “I only need a few things today, and if you're a good for me, I might get you a reward” He smiles down at you, knowing you're always his good little doll for him.

“I’ll be good” Smiling back up at him, letting him lead the way.

“I know you will be” He smirks a little as he leads you down the aisle where the ropes and bondage gear all belong. 

“Don't we have some of this stuff already?” Looking up at him confused as he kneels down, so he can get a closer look. 

“We do, but some of our rope now has some wear and tear now, so some new gear will be good, I don’t want to tie you up with old rope and you end up getting rope burn now do I, amore?” Smirking up at you from his knees, he motions for you to join him down there. 

“That makes sense” Smiling softly as you kneel down, joining him. He takes your hand in his and brings it to some of the rope he seems to be studying, he brings the rope in your hand, testing the feeling of it against your skin.

“How does that one feel?” He watches you closely as you slide your hand across it, before quickly pulling your hand off it.

“I um.. It feels scratchy” Rubbing your hand against your other arm to try and get the feeling off it. You have some texture issues, it's something Dave always takes into consideration when he buys you anything. It's why he really wanted to bring you in today, make sure he gets the right one for you.

“Okay, what about the next one?” He gives you an encouraging smile as you move your hand to the next brand beside it, feeling it more carefully.

“It's better, but it feels weird” You keep your hand on as you speak, trying to figure out what you dislike about it.

“Okay that's good so far, what about the other one?” Dave nods, taking down a mental note. You pull your hand off that one and move to touch the other one, but you stop.

“Not that one” A sharp shake of your hand alerts Dave immediately. 

“That's okay, we can skip that one, there's only one left for the ropes, do you think you can touch that one?” Dave softens his tone as he speaks, knowing how your anxiety can also play up along with your sensory processing disorder. 

“Yeah I can” Smiling weakly as you reach out for it, running your fingers over it slowly, before fully gripping it with your palm, a smile spreading across your face.

“Looks like we found the right one huh, sweetheart?” Dave smiles softly, rubbing your back gently as you both stand up. 

“Yeah I like that one” Nodding at him, smiling at just how sweet and understanding your partner is. 

“I'm thinking we get at least 3, I want Black and purple, any suggestion for the third?” He asks as he reaches down and grabs them, placing them in his basket. 

“Can we get red please?” Smiling as you see him reach for it before you even say it properly. He knows black and red is one of your favourite colour combinations.

“Sure can” He intertwined both of your hands once moving, after he put the ropes in the basket. 

“What else do we need?”

“Well I ordered something last week online, which I need to go speak to someone about, so do you think you’ll be okay if I leave you here for a few minutes?” He sighs a little, knowing how much you hate being left alone, but knowing you also hate talking to strangers.

“No that's fine sir, I’m happy to browse by myself for a little while” Smiling happily up at him, actually looking forward to freely looking around.

“Good, thank you tesoro” Dave smiles, kissing you softly before pulling away. “Can you just stay amongst these 3 aisle for me, so I can find you easily”

“Yes sir” Biting your lip lightly as you smile at him, trying to hold back the smile that comes along every time he kisses you in public.

“Buona tesoro, I won’t be long” Squeezing your hand softly before he walks away, leaving you alone. 

~~~

Slowly you walk around the aisles, ending up in the aisle that has paddles and whips. Your eyes land on a beautiful black and red pattern paddle, your hand traces along it, feeling how soft and hard the material feels. You can’t help but imagine what it would feel like against your ass. You’ve used these with Dave before, normally when he spanks you he prefers to use his hands, but a few times in the past these have come in handy. Gulping thickly as you think back to those times, remember the pain and pleasure that he can easily apply to your body, and just how badly you crave it. 

“And what have you found Amore?” Dave approaches quietly, coming to stand directly behind you. You jump back a little in fright banging straight into his chest. 

“Oh shoot, you scared me Dave” Quickly turning around to face him, smiling up at him excitedly.

“Sorry darling” Placing his hands on your hips, bringing you closer into him. 

“Did you get what you needed?” Leaning into his touch, enjoying the way he touches you.

“I did, and what have you found while I’ve left you alone?” smirking playfully at you, noticing that shy look flashing on your face.

“N n nothing” Avoiding his eyes as you lie badly to him. 

“Oh come on amore mio, don’t get shy on me” Grinning down at you, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Also don’t lie, you know my rules, now were we looking at that paddle there huh?” His condescending tone makes you bow your head, giving him a small nod.

“Sorry for lying sir.. I just, yes I was looking at it” Admitting shyly, as he tilts your head back up to him.

“It is pretty, but we already have a paddle that we don’t use too often anyway?” Dave raises his eyebrow as he speaks, wanting to see your response.

“I know” Whining softly, “But we don’t have one that's this pretty, also if we get it, then we have more excuse to use it more, please” Biting your lip, as you pout, look up at him.

He lets out a soft playful groan. “I mean you have been so good for me, I did say you could get a reward if you behaved” A smirk slides onto his face as he sees your face light up.

“We can get it?” Squeaking softly in excitement, “Thank you thank you sir” 

“No problem sweetheart, I can’t wait to spank your ass red with it” A low chuckle escapes his throat as he reaches for it. Your face drops, just realising the amount of danger your ass is about to be in.

“Oh no”

~~~

Dave leads you to the aisle with vibrators, his arm securely around your waist.

“Dave, don’t we already have enough vibrators?” Smiling a little as he stops you in front of a certain selection.

“No such thing” He dismisses that thought from you quickly, passing you the basket to hold for a moment. He reaches for two packages of vibrators, before turning to you with a mystery grin.

“So do you want white or green?” 

“Um green, but that was quick?” Tilting your head at his quick decision making.

“Oh I read about these online” He smirks, placing one back on the shelf and the other in the basket. “This will be perfect for us” 

“Um what's so special about this one?” Holding the basket back out for him, watching as he moves the basket to his far hand and takes your in his.

“Well this is controlled by an app on your smartphone, so when you're at home, all alone and desperate for me, I can still make you cum even when I'm across the country” His words make you squeeze your thighs together, a small whimper slips through your lips. 

“That sounds dangerous” Giggling softly as you lean into him.

“Oh It Is” He chuckles deeply, licking his lips. “Especially because you know I’m not going to stop at just one darling” A small growl leaves his lips as he leans down kissing your cheek as he leads you to the counter, where a few other things he had already ordered online were waiting for him. The cashier rings it all up for him, making small talk with Dave. Your eyes almost jump out of your head as you see the final price.

“Dave, that's too much money!” You complain, staring at him in shock.

“Relax bellissimo, how many times do I have to tell you money doesn’t matter?” He laughs softly, wrapping his arm around you as he pays for the gear. 

“I feel bad” You mutter softly as you two walk back to the car, Dave refusing to let you carry any of the bags.

“You shouldn't have to, I love spending my money on you, and especially on things like this” He smirks down at you, which reduces you to a silent puddle of mush, he laughs softly. Reaching the car he opens the door for you.

“Always such a gentleman” Smiling widely as you climb inside.

“Only while in public” He mutters to himself, putting the bags in the back, unable to think about anything else except taking you home.

[kodaiki]

PLSSS WE NEED JEALOUS SNEAKY LINK AOMINE. 😩

a/n: ty for this thirst anon it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while but I finally wrote it !!! if y’all wanna give me more vague prompts like this IM SO DOWN <3333 this is unedited oops. minors and ageless blogs do not interact !!

wc: 4.4k

cw: car sex, riding, creampie, protected sex (reader is on birth control, slight mention of alcohol, afab!reader

“you go out first- wait, fix your tie,” you stammer, reaching for the taller man’s collared shirt, adjusting it in addition to fixing the dark tie hung around it, pulled lose from your doing probably.

fwb!aomine only stares down at you with an easy expression, eyes glinting in satisfaction by the deep flush of your cheeks and slight disheveled appearance. he didn’t even go far, only making out with you and some light grinding in the back corner of the bar where no one could see. yet still, you’re flustered expression makes it look like you went far beyond that.

“thank you,” he murmurs hoarsely, tipping his head downward to send a chill down your back. “you know it’s coming off later anyway right?” he says coolly, bringing a hand up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. you squeak at the insinuation of his words, quickly glaring at him afterward.

“aomine-!”

“daiki,” he corrects lowly, retracting his hand.

“-don’t just say stuff like that!”

the dark haired man only laughs at you, not in the condescending way like he usually did, but more lighthearted, more amused if anything.

“sorry, sorry,” he apologizes but the grin on his face contradicts his message entirely. “i’ll be going then.” he pats your cheek gently, leaning down once more to press a chaste kiss to your lips.

aomine leaves you alone in the corner to collect yourself, both physically and mentally. the burn in your stomach makes you frown, both in frustration and discomfort, just by the doing of the raven haired man alone. 

you spend the next few minutes tugging at your dress, a pretty floral dress, as to how it was earlier in the evening during dinner, and patting down your hair, in hopes it wasn’t too much of a mess. the flush of your cheeks still burns at the entire recent event making you wonder how aomine could always appear so calm and casual.

you and daiki aomine are not a couple. definitely not.

but you sure as hell ain’t just friends either.

from what you recall, your... relationship began around six months prior at a reunion with your friends from college; it'd been only a year since you all graduated.

you'd all gone separate ways through your respective careers and though you did manage to see your friends on different occasions or when you were free, it was never the whole lot of you as it is right now.

so, those six months ago, the reunion, having taken place at a bar, set the perfect stage for the two off you. you and aomine had been the last ones of the friend group to leave the bar, having settled on two bar stools, updating the other about what had gone on in your lives. one thing led to another, alcohol and the bar's romantic aura playing a significant role, and you ended up going home with him. from that moment forward, it became an unspoken thing, a physical relationship for either of your needs.

once you’re seated, you send a pressed grin to the rest of the table, hopeful that no one saw through your lie about using the restroom.

briefly, you glance over at aomine who’s already immersed in a conversation with kagami, hand wrapped around the beer he most likely ordered as a ploy for why he was gone for so long. he's pulled up his sleeves, cuffing them, showing off a peek of the tattood sleeve he has on his left arm. as if feeling your stare, he averts his gaze for a split second, looking at you, offering you a raised brow.

you scrunch your nose at the way you can read his mind.

already wanting more, the mischievous glint in his eye says all. he eyes the front door of the restaurant, as if saying let's get out of here, followed by a cheeky smile behind the beer bottle he's about to take a swig of.

you scoff quietly at that, shaking your head at his brazenness.

"what about you, y/n?"

"hm, what?" you're brought out of your staring contest with aomine by the light chime beside you. you turn to face kise who's smiling rather mischievously at you. "sorry what was the question?"

"have you been out on dates throughout the year? midorimacchi says he's too busy and kurokocchi is gatekeeping his relationship with momoi," he says with a pout, tilting his head down at you.

"oh! uh, nope, no dates," you reveal with a nervous laugh. it isn't exactly a lie. all those times aomine's come over your place and you to his, you don't really consider dates and you're sure he doesn't either. confirming your thoughts, when you glance over at the man, he simply twitches an eyebrow upward in a playful manner.

"wha- really?" kise comments incredulously. "i sincerely doubt that."

"why?" you can't help but ask with a confused expression, furrowing your brows at him. it seems the rest of the table has settled into teir own conversation with the person or persons beside him, leaving you and kise to chat.

"well, i mean, you're pretty! i'd think people would've asked you out during the year," he admits a bit bashfully, rubbing a hand behind his neck. you think nothing of it, simply waving him off as being nice.

"you're too sweet," you sighing, flicking your hand downward. "besides, i've been too busy with work anyway so dates aren't really on my priority list."

"awh, c'mon really?" kise croons out, jutting out his lower lips. "what if i asked you out?"

"hm?" your brows furrow, full attention straying from the near empty plat of food in front of you to the blonde sitting beside you.

"would you go if i asked you out?" his tone is cheeky, warm, something you understand as a joke or a bit for you to play along with.

"very cheeky," you scoff out with an amused eye roll.

you don't catch the minuscule falter in kise's expression at your lack of awareness, but he quickly recovers when akashi across the table bids his attention, brining him into another conversation.

it isn't until the mini conversation is over that you feel burning into your temple, causing you to look up, only to meet the hard stare aomine's sending your way. your brows knit together in slight confusion, wondering how his expression could change so quickly from calm and lighthearted to seemingly pissed off.

you mouth out a 'you okay?' as to not draw attention to the whole table. you stomach only sinks when he's responds with nothing but a scoff into the bottle, turning his attention away from you and back to kagami in front of him.

the rest of dinner goes rather smoothly, minus aomine's deep frown, with only chatter about the nostalgia of your memories from college, high school and beyond.

"is he alright?" kagami murmurs to you as he helps you with your coat as you all gather to leave. "he seemed a little off toward the end of the night."

you give the taller man a pressed, yet clueless, smile. "no idea. i'll try to ask him about it." you glance over at him whose chin is dropped close to his chest as he stares rather pointedly at you, awaiting you near the front door. "and now he's getting impatient. i'll see you soon!"

you quickly bid your friends goodbye, hastily following aomine back to his car, since he'd dropped you off to the dinner in the first place.

the car ride home is excruciatingly quiet, only the radio and rumble of the car's gas filling your ears as aomine stares straight ahead at the road, tightly gripping the steering wheel.

"daiki-" you attempt to break the silence, but your voice falls in your throat. you shiver in your seat, bringing your thin jacket closer to you in hopes for more warmth. you can't tell if it's the car's cool temperature or aomine's cold aura that's freezing you.

at your movement, aomine slightly relaxes, nonchalantly bringing a hand to his car's controls and turning down the air condition.

"i'm sure kise was only being friendly," you quickly blurt, seizing the opportunity to speak when this is the first time he's so much as twitched since the two of you entered the car. that must be what it's about, right? "you know he's naturally like that."

like that, you say since you're too worried at striking a nerve for even so much as calling him flirty.

you can't tell if the man beside you likes or dislikes your answer anyway but his clenched jaw makes you think it's the latter.

you don't even know why he's so agitated by it; an old friend casually flirted with you, so what? it was in kise's character to be the friendly type and aomine's known him longer than you have; wouldn't he be more accustomed to that?

the man beside you only hums out in response, no acknowledgment in the form of a turn of his head or mere eye contact through side-eyes.

sure, you were close to aomine in more ways than one, but never did you think something as minor as a slight flirt from kise could get on his nerves. he's always been at least a little protective of you since you'd first met in college, steering you away from sleazes and guys he knew were no good. but as far as your concerned, kise's not one of those guys so why on earth is he so upset?

was it something you said?

maybe it had nothing to do with the fact that it was kise flirting with you but the fact that you accepted it? brushing and laughing it off giving him a hunch you liked the guy? that was far from the case but you could see the misunderstanding.

you grasp at another opportunity to speak to him when he parks in front of your apartment building, putting the car in park with the adjustment of his gearshift. quickly covering his hand with yours before he could pull away, you try again. "daiki," you start seriously, worry lacing your tone. "what is it?"

for the first time since you've left the restaurant, he turns to face you and looks at you. his stern expression, knitted brows and deep glare softens when he sees your wide, curious eyes and small frown.

god, he hates the way he's feeling. aomine never feels like this. never angry about some guy, much less some guy interacting with you.

"kise has a crush on you."

aomine's words come out stern and matter-of-fact, throwing you off guard. it's the first thing he's said for a while so that? that wasn't what you were expecting.

"he ... huh?" you attempt to blink away your confusion, batting your lashes at the man beside you quizzically.

it didn't help every face you made made you so damn cute either, aomine thinks as he pushes his tongue into the side of his cheek to keep from so much as smiling at your expression.

"kise," he tries again, raising a brow, "got the hots for you. 'heard him talking about it with tetsu."

your nose scrunches at his choice of words, internally scoffing at hots for you, but you choose to verbally disregard it.

"oh," you murmur, averting your eyes from his. "that's ... funny." you can't help but chuckle awkwardly, detesting the awkwardness settled in the air of aomine's car. the car's been in park for a while now, lights overhead since dimmed and the only light providing you a decent look at the man's facial expressions are from the ones lined up on the streets outside.

"funny?" aomine repeats, turning to you. "how so?"

swallowing the lump in your throat, you mumble out, "i just, don't like him like that. 'can't really."

"you can't..." aomine drawls off with a deadpanned tone, eyes squinting slightly as he tries to analyze your words.

"i can't when there's someone else..." you trail off, hiding the deep flush of your face by turning your whole body toward the passenger's side door, in hopes of escaping the car and bidding aomine a good night.

"hey." he gently grabs your forearm before you could push open the door. "look at me." you glance at yourself in the reflection of his tinted window, lips twisting into an embarrassed pout.

you crane your neck around to face him once more, only to raise a brow, feigning nonchalance. "thanks for the ride dai-"

"y/n." his tone makes you shut up immediately and your throat runs dry. "wanna elaborate on that?" he asks knowingly. it's a request you know, but his intonation clearly says that he'll receive your answer regardless.

"not really," you whisper out a little breathlessly. shit, is the car getting warmer or is it truly just the flush of your cheeks?

he simply raises a brow at you as you slouch in his leathered seats, somewhat defeated by his gaze on you.

"i think you should," he chuckles out dryly, bringing his other hand up to brush a strand of hair that fell in front of your face and tucks it behind your ear. instinctively, your head moves forward, further into the palm of his hand to which he gently rubs a thumb along the pad of your cheek.

"i think i shouldn't," you murmur out. your eyes don't stray from his while you lightly nibble at your lower lip. the air suddenly feels thick and you nearly shift in your shift to pull away from aomine's deep stare. for whatever reason, the hazy air has you drawing forward where you both meet just above the gearshift, making his hand slip up your jaw to the side of your neck.

"why not?" he murmurs out, his face so close to yours, his breath fans over your lips.

how do you not sound like a total dork in this intimate, smooth context saying, i think it's funny because it's not kise i like, it's you, my strictly platonic friends with benefits?

well, if you can't say it, might as well show it, right?

so, you inhale deeply before seizing your lips with his. you bring your hands around the dark necktie he's wearing, crinkling it between your fist and tugging him closer to you, deepening the kiss.

aomine immediately reciprocates, bringing your face between both of his large hands, tilting your head slightly. you can't tell if he's reciprocating because he understands your message or he's just so accustomed to kissing you like this; either way, you're not complaining.

it seems to get sloppier as more time passes, evident by your restlessness. you hum into his mouth, hands going up to grip at the short hands behind his ears, tugging slightly.

in one swift movement, he jerks his seat back, as far back as possible to allow more room, and greedily guides you over the console to plop you on his lap. your lips never separate, only to release a breathy chuckle at the squeak you make when your knee clumsily hits the top of the gearshift on your way over.

you settle your lower back against the bottom of the steering wheel, careful not to trigger the car horn, separating your face from his in order to reach for the buttons along the front of his shirt, having pulled off his tie already. aomine chases your lips anyway, leaning forward to press open-mouthed kisses along the side of your mouth, trailing down your jaw and neck.

"y'so pretty," he says, though it's muffled from his contact on your skin. "my pretty."

his hands grasp at your waist, pulling you flush against him now that you're finished unbuttoning his shirt, pressing you down firmer against his dress pants, unmistakably on the bulge that's his boner.

"shouldn't we go inside?" you mumble, quickly looking side to side, out the windows of his car in case of any onlookers.

"need you now." is all he answers, no inclination to let go of you anytime soon. "besides, tinted windows." he says, lightly knocking against the glass, easing your concerns. it's also rather late, so the chances of someone catching you - however that could happen - are relatively low.

he peels the flimsy lace straps straps of your dress, a short floral one aomine decides he likes, down your arms, no bother letting you pull out your arms. he pulls down the front of your dress, eliciting a gasp from you at his eagerness, freeing your breasts. whatever warm air you were mentally complaining about earlier must've been in your head because your nipples pebble nearly immediately.

he returns to your lips, hands drifting upward to cup and grab at your breasts, smiling against the kiss when you croon and sigh into his mouth.

your fingers tangle through his dark locks as he begins dipping his head lower and lower down your chest before reaching the valley between your breasts. he's particularly gentle with this area, placing chaste kisses along the domes, but he's merciless with your nipples. his fingers roll around one while his mouth latches the other, tongue swirling around the bud and teeth pulling at it, making you throw your neck back as breathy moans escape you.

you press down firmer against him as he gives the other nipple the same love, rolling your hips against his front, begging for any sort of friction between your clothed core and his.

receiving your message loud and clear, he detaches himself, forming a line of spit connecting your bud and his lips.

"daiki," you breathe out desperately. "i want you."

"yeah?" he asks, shuffling out of his dress shirt, now slightly sheer with sweat, allowing you a full view of his torso and upper body. your eyes ogle his arms, tan and toned, muscles of his biceps bulging as he holds you. your eyes drift to the tatted sleeve across his entire left arm, memories of all the times you've grasped and scratched ta it while he was under and over you in similar situations – well, maybe not so similar since this was the first time you've fucked in his car.

normally aomine would tease you, continuing to ask how bad you want him, but seeing you like this: glassy-eyed look, splayed out just for him in the dim lights of the streetlights outside his car; only he gets to see you like this.

and fuck, he loves that.

"'want you, too," he settles on, pressing his lips to yours once more, lifting you by the ass to hike up your dress up your hips where is bunches at your waist, meeting with the top of your dress. meanwhile, you busy yourself, blindly feeling around his crotch area for the button and zipper of his dress pants until finding them.

no wonder car sex is usually done in the back seat, you can't help but think as you watch aomine shove down his pants enough to allow enough room for his cock to spring free. there's hardly any room up here.

"y/n, you can't-"

"s'okay," you slur, leveling yourself over his standing cock, only pushing your panties, a pretty pink lacy pair you'd much rather save than risk getting ripped off, to the side, readying to lower yourself. "'need your dick."

"you're not prepped." aomine grunts when his head brushes over your entrance. "it'll hurt." he can't help but let worry seep into his tone, another indication that what he feels for you is beyond more than a fuck buddy relationship.

"it's okay," you repeat anyway, mind too foggy to back down. "just go slow."

aomine can't argue with that, not when you sound so firm and stubborn while literally hovering just over him. grasping at your hips, he aids you in sinking down on his dick, making him seethe at the tight fit.

your arms wrap around his broad shoulders, tucking your head into his neck, damp with sweat but your don't mind.

"i got you," aomine coos, rubbing your back soothingly. "just let me know when to move."

it's when he's caring like this, a stark contrast than how he shows off to other people, that gets your stomach doing somersaults and heart rate going erratic.

you don't know how long you're sat like that, eyes shut as you grow accustomed to the stretch of his dick, it could be seconds, minutes. after a small while, you lift your head from his shoulder. "okay, i'm good, you can start moving."

he simply nods down at you, eyes darkened, yet still showing that same fondness he usually has when you're this close and intimate, gently wiping some sweat on your forehead with the side of his hand before bringing it back to your hips. slowly, while gripping at your hips firmly, he lifts you up before dropping you back down, in addition to thrusting himself up into you.

soon enough, the only sounds heard in the car are the slapping of wet skin and the moans and guttural groans coming from the two of you. fog sticks to the glass of the car windows, darkening the lighting inside the car even further.

you use his shoulders as leverage while you bounce above him, meanwhile his teeth clash and glade along your throat, most likely littering love marks. his hands have slid down to your ass, squeezing and kneading at the fat of it as he guides you up and down his shaft.

"so good," you chant out, so often, it may be the only words you can say.

"made f'me," aomine grunts, speeding up his pace when he feels the knot in his stomach begin to tighten. "all for me."

"for... you," you affirm, mind foggier with lust than before. "only for you. all for you." you're babbling at this point, words you can't filter but not necessarily untrue.

"i'm close," he warns, making you nod profusely as if iterating you are, too. "you gonna cum? want you to cum 'round my cock."

"mhm, mhm!" you hum, losing yourself in his relentless pace.

it's a prior conversation that made aomine known to the fact that your on the pill, something you'd drilled into him the first night you slept together when he'd asked where he should release.

"you're so pretty like this, f'me. mine," he blurts, watching the area where your pussy meets his dick, disappearing and reappearing with every thrust.

"yours!"

"love this pussy." after some sloppy thrusts upwards, no doubt from him chasing his high, he lets out a deep groan, cock twitching inside you as warm ropes of cum paint your walls. "i love you."

aomine doesn't stop, however, with a new mission to let you finish. he continues to thrust into you, riding through his orgasm as he aids you in chasing yours. he bounces you up and down more firmly than before, focusing on pressure instead of speed. tears stream down your cheeks, mascara probably running under your eyes.

"c'mon baby, cum for me," he urges.

that seems to do the job because with one final jerk of his hips upward, you freeze above him, shaking as your orgasm takes over. your limp on his lip, muscles aching as a clearish-white ring of cum settles around the base of aomine's dick.

he carefully lifts you off his softened dick, plopping you on his thighs and continues to hold you close in his arms, warm hands gently rubbing at the flesh of your ass and hips where his probably brutal grip was. "you okay?"

you nod against him, bringing a hand up to trace absentmindedly along his chest. it isn't until you're clearer in the head that you've registered his words, shyly averting your gaze from his.

did he mean that? or was it an in the moment thing?

"dai," you murmur quietly.

"yeah?" he asks hoarsely, tilting his head down in attempt to meet your gaze.

"you um, said something before," you trail off, hoping you wouldn't have to outright repeat it in case it causes awkwardness within the small space of his car.

aomine knows exactly what you're talking about. although what he said was amidst being balls deep in you with nothing but you and his high on his mind, he was completely honest in saying them.

he could either run away from it, claiming it as a slip of the tongue accident that he didn't really mean in hopes of preserving your strict fuck buddy relationship, or he could risk it all; risk that you don't feel the same yet still come clean about his own feelings.

when it came to you, aomine has the urge to be nothing but truthful.

"i meant it," he answers seriously. "i know what we have is strictly physical but if i'm being honest i think i've loved you since college but i was too dumb or stubborn to admit it to myself."

you release a breath you don't realize you've been holding, finally gaining the courage to look up and face him.

he looks away from you this time, choosing to glance at the fogged up windows. "it's alright if you don't feel the same, just thought i'd-"

you don't let him continue beyond that, quickly pecking his lips to cut him off. when he averts his gaze back to you, your lips curl up into a small smile. "i love you, too."

he smiles at that, a genuine, happy one albeit tired from the prior engagement, and leans his forehead against yours. it's a moment before he mutters, "it's getting pretty sticky, right? we should head inside."

"yeah," you quickly agree, hastily fixing your dress to look the least bit presentable for anyone who may be in your apartment's lobby.

the two of you step out of the car, sighing in the much cooler night air contrasting aomine's car's warm, sex-ridden air. "and dai?" you ask as he shuts his car door.

"hm?"

"if you were just jealous of kise, y'coulda just said so." a knowing grin curls up your lips as you face aomine. he only deadpans at you for a mere moment before pressing a kiss to your temple with a low chuckle, hinting that whatever happened at dinner no longer concerns him.

ʚĭɞ reblogs and interaction always appreciated! ʚĭɞ

[bqstqnbruin]

See You Again

I'm actually posting a fic for the first time in seven months aka the first fic I've finished in seven months peace love teaching

anyway, I wrote this for the lovely @wyattjohnston's summer fic exchange! I got to write for @selfindulgentpoorlywritten but I've never written for Nico before, so I hope you like this (I was fully inspired by my own mess of a life)

Edit since I’m a dumbass thank you to @kat-hearts for reading this first and being amazing ily 😭

One of the characters, Nat is nonbinary, and I did my best to make the reader gender netural, which I haven't done before on either account, so I hope I did it justice (if something is glaringly wrong, please let me know!)

Warnings: I was mean with the ending? A little? Also, some swearing, drinking, almost physical fighting

Word Count: almost 2.8k

_______________________________________

“When was the last time you saw him?”

You tried to shift through your memory to figure that out. In person, the last time was sometime in the first week of December about two years ago. Thinking about him, which thankfully didn’t count, would involve you giving a much more recent answer, way more recent than you would really like to admit. “I don’t remember.” 

“Well,” your roommate Nat says, looking down at their phone. “I have bad news.”

“Fucking hell,” you moan, tilting your head to hit the back of the seat of the Uber. You knew what they were going to say before the words even started to come out of their mouth.

“Nico is going to be there tonight. With all the guys.” You let out another groan, the Uber driver giving you a scowl through the rearview mirror. “I’m sorry! Jack didn’t know he was coming, or he would have told us way before we got ready.” 

You stare out the window, trying to think of all the ways that you could get out of this situation. You already paid for the Uber and didn’t want to pay for another one. You weren’t about to go somewhere by yourself, especially since the bar you were heading towards wasn’t within a reasonable walking distance if you were to go somewhere by yourself, and no way was Nat going to leave with you without Jack, and Jack, of course, wasn't going to leave without his teammates. 

“We can go back right now and I’ll tell Jack to have fun with his team instead,” Nat tells you as if they could read your mind. They put their hand over yours, trying to give you any sense of calm that was setting into your panic. “We do not have to be around Nico.” 

“What kind of person tells someone they like them but not enough to date them?” you mutter, knowing you and Nat have had this conversation many times on your kitchen floor, drunk and crying together at 2 in the morning. They had introduced you to Nico one night after a game when the team went out to celebrate. They had been dating Jack for about a year at that point, meeting him through his brother at Michigan and reconnecting when they both realized they were going to be in New Jersey together. Quinn had used the reasoning of, “he won’t know anyone in the state,” only for everyone to realize later that he knew Jack had been smitten with Nat since they met. If only you had been so lucky. 

You had known of Nico, obviously. How could you not? He was the captain of the Devils, the team you grew up surrounded by, the number one draft pick in the sport your roommate never shut up about. He covered your social media feeds without you really wanting them to and everyone you knew talked about what a great game he had the night before. You couldn’t escape the idea of him, no matter where you went. 

When you met him that night a few years back, there was something about him in person that you were drawn to. He had been just an idea to you, not someone you could think about as being real. You spent that entire night with him, your friends either wandering off or you too enthralled with Nico to notice that they were there. Nat and Jack were heading back to your place before last call, and you were left knowing that you had to see Nico again.  

He asked if he could kiss you, making you melt as his hand gently snaked its way to your cheek, pulling you close when you said yes and covering your mouth with his. You waited for his text the next day, anxiously checking your phone until he finally did after 3 pm. From then on, you told each other everything, texting each other whenever you could, him calling you and heading over to your apartment whenever he didn’t have an obligation to the team. You fell hard for him and you had believed that he felt the same about you. 

“The kind of person who doesn’t know what they have until it’s gone,” Nat tells you, trying to pep you up. “Hey, we can find you a guy that is just as hot as Nico tonight.” 

“I’m gonna move to Ireland and isolate myself with the spuds.”

“Act like you can be away from me for that long,” they tease, earning a laugh from you. “I’m serious, though. Tell me what you want to do, or who you want to do, and Jack and I will make it happen.”

You didn’t want someone just as hot as Nico, you wanted Nico. You hated the fact that there was more than one time that you had pulled up his messages on your phone, part of you unable to delete that conversation thread even though you knew it would be the healthy thing to do. But you weren’t known amongst your friends for doing what was best for your mental wellbeing, so you kept them, going back through the conversations you had in the four months you were seeing him. The last text was what haunted you the most, him telling you that he was going to be back in Switzerland for the summer and that he ‘didn’t want you tied down to one person’ while he was gone.

He said he would text you when he was back. 

He never did. 

There were multiple times when you wanted to text him, but you never did, either. 

“Yeah,” you manage to choke out. “Let’s do it.” 

You spend the rest of the ride in silence, trying to think of where in the bar you would be able to hide from Nico so that he wouldn’t see you. The guys were already inside, Jack telling Nat about 10 minutes ago that they went to start drinking as fast as they could. 

The bar was somehow muggy inside, as if the beer itself hung in the air rather than the sweat of the nearly one hundred drunk people that were crowding every square inch of the floor. Jack was easy to spot for Nat, his five foot eleven frame not the largest of his teammates, but still distinct enough that your roommate had left your side within seconds of entering to be with their partner. 

So much for finding you someone tonight. 

You tried to stay away from him, closer to Nat and Jack as best as you could, but they kept wandering off from you. The last thing you wanted to do was go with them when they were both on their way to drunk and have a history of doing slightly illegal things in the bathrooms at bars. 

You had to find someone to talk to. Any person who looked interesting. Any other guy on the team who you were friends with, but that was really only Jack, and that was really only because he’s dating Nat. Your phone was your only comfort, finding a table that had been pushed up against the wall and hoping that there was something you could doom scroll on that would distract you from looking towards Nico. 

He had the right to do what he wanted at the bar with his teammates. You weren’t together. 

“You ok?” you hear during a lull in the music, pulling you away from your phone for a moment. You didn’t know who was standing in front of you, one of the newer guys from the trade deadline that Nat definitely hadn’t introduced you to. He was waiting for you to respond, looking like he had wanted to sit down with you.

“Yeah, just, not a big ‘going out’ person.”

He lets out a nervous laugh, a smile that sends a jolt through your system that you hadn’t felt in a while. Since Nico, if you were really willing to be honest with yourself. “Me neither, honestly. I’m just here because I didn’t have anything else to do.” 

“I got dragged here with my roommate so they can be with their boyfriend,” you tell him, gesturing to Nat and Jack trying their best to sneak out of the bathroom, Jack’s shirt buttoned wrong, both of their previously neatly styled hair in a mess that you only saw after hearing them the night before. 

“So that’s the infamous Nat,” he says, taking the seat beside you. You nod as he continues, “Jack never shuts up about them. Not that Jack shuts up about anything or anyone, ever, but especially not Nat.” 

“I always knew he was a good one,” you tell him, introducing yourself so he knew you as more than just, ‘his teammate's partner’s roommate.’

“I’m Timo.” 

You spent the rest of the night bouncing between the table and the bar with Timo, him buying you every drink you wanted. There was something about him that was different, but you couldn’t focus all of your attention on him. 

He was talking about his time in San Jose while you were waiting for your next round of drinks. You couldn’t focus on a word he was saying, Nico within your line of sight talking to a girl. A really attractive girl, you might add. You felt your heart drop, feeling a lump in your throat forming faster than you could lie to yourself about that scene having no effect on you. Naturally, Nico would talk to other people. You hadn’t talked to him in two years, let alone seen him in person. Just because you couldn’t get over him, no matter how hard you tried, that didn’t mean he didn’t get over you.

“And then I got traded here, and I love it, so far,” you tune back into Timo, who is suddenly much closer than you remember. It’s just because the bar is loud, people are starting to crowd for drinks, and, fuck, you have to admit, he’s pretty hot. 

Nico was still watching. 

Timo took your hand, leading you off to the table where you were before, the drinks in your hand probably not ones that you needed to begin with. His free hand snaked its way to your waist, pulling you close to him. You could feel your heart racing faster with every inch he got closer to you. You wanted him to kiss you. 

You thought you did. 

“I’m sorry,” you pull away right as his lips were about to meet yours, tears starting to form in your eyes, leaving the drink he bought you in his hands as you ran from him. Your breath catches in your throat while you try to find Nat and Jack, just praying that they weren’t back in the bathroom or too intoxicated in general to help out. 

You heard Timo calling after you, somehow, through the volume of the music and your own drunkenness, breaking through and getting to you. You didn’t want Timo calling your name, you wanted it to be Nico. 

You needed it to be Nico. 

“Hey, hey,” you hear, feeling a familiar hand gently place itself on your arm. You turn around, Nico’s face a mixture of concern and fury. “What did he do?” 

“He, he,” you stammer, the tears falling faster the more you looked at him, every memory you had with him suddenly rushing back into your mind. “He didn’t do anything. You did.”

You yank your arm from him, trying to find anywhere to be in the building that didn’t have one of Nico’s teammates looking at you causing a scene. You knew he was following you, calling your name again and again over the music. People were starting to stare, but no part of you cared, trying harder to not let the tears that were burning your eyes fall down your cheeks. 

Nat and Jack were nowhere to be seen, the rest of Nico’s teammates trying to figure out what was going on when you burst through the front door of the bar, the cold fall air hitting your face as soon as you did. You let out a sob, trying to steady yourself against the wall of the building, sliding down to the ground while people waiting to get in tried to figure out if they should help you or if you were just another drunk person having some sort of meltdown that was none of their business. 

“Hey,” you hear, a soft voice coming from above you. “I’m so sorry if I did something wrong.” Timo slid down next to you. “I read the situation wrong, I thought you were also into me.”

“I am, I just,” you start, trying to think of what to say. 

“Hey, what the fuck did you do?” Nico yells, pulling Timo off the ground. “What did he do to make you cry?”

“Nico, stop,” you let out, Timo looking both confused and terrified by his new captain’s hand on his shirt collar. “He didn’t do anything.”

“What the fuck did I miss?” Timo asked, slowly trying to back away from Nico staring you down. 

“Why can you talk to other people and I can’t?” you ask him, feeling your sadness turn into anger. “You had no issue not talking to me for the last two years.” 

“I’m gonna go,” Timo lets out, barely loud enough for the two of you to hear and sneaking away before you could notice. 

“You didn’t want to talk to me,” Nico counters, taking a step towards you. “But you wanted to talk to TImo instead?”

“Where the fuck did you get that idea?” 

“You never texted me. You’ve spent the entire night avoiding me. You think I didn’t see you when you were by yourself on your phone?” 

“You were in Sweden. And you could have come up to me and talked to me, what was stopping you? Oh, that’s right, your new girlfriend.”

“Switzerland. And she’s not my girlfriend. I haven’t seen anyone in ages.”

“Wherever you were, you weren’t here,” you tell him, your back against the wall. How long had it been since he had last seen someone? There was no way you had been the last person he was with. “You told me you didn’t want to be tied down while you were back home. You didn’t even want to talk to me, because if you did, you would have.” 

“You’re joking,” he scoffs. “You think I didn’t want to talk to you? Every fucking day I have thought about how our conversations would go when I saw you after you get home from work. I would think about you telling me about your day, about everything you would tell Nat, or whoever you were seeing at the time. Every single person I saw in the last two years, I wanted them to be you.” 

You didn’t know what to say, letting Nico’s words sink in. “Then why didn’t you text me when you came back from Switzerland?” 

Nico took in a deep breath, closing his eyes and tilting his head up to the sky. “Because I thought there was no way someone else wouldn’t have realized how amazing you are. There was no way I could be someone who you thought was worth waiting for.” 

Nico takes a step towards you, his hand gently taking yours. This was a moment you had been thinking about since he left for Switzerland two years ago. You knew he was going to kiss you, having you pinned against the wall of the building. His free hand cupped your cheek.

“There you guys are!” Nat interrupts, them and Jack clearly having just finished up doing something they weren’t supposed to be doing. Nico steps away from you, clearing his throat, the red in his cheeks so noticeable there was no way even your roommate wouldn’t comment on it later.  “We’ve been looking for you, for um.”

“Long enough,” Jack finishes their sentence, a stupid smile covering his face. You knew he was lying, but no part of your brain was letting you focus on that. Nico leaned against the building, his arm up over your head. “The uber’s almost here. Are you ready to go?”

No. “Yes.” 

The three of you leave Nico standing there by himself, Nat and Jack falling asleep in the Uber as soon as it gets on the highway. 

You check your phone for the first time in a while, a lone notification popping up on your phone that hadn’t been there in almost two years. 

‘Nico, iMessage.’ 

[msmargaretmurry]

any advice on how to not get overwhelmed at the prospect of writing a longer fic? 😭😭 i freak myself out with “ohhh what if i get too far in and then it turns out it sucks” and “i’ll have to do so much research for certain canon compliant things” etc etc

hi anon! i would be happy to share some of the things that work for me! we all know i love to talk incessantly about writing. thank you for giving me an excuse to. ❤

standard writing advice disclaimer that this is indeed all just stuff that works for me personally. it might not work for you, or you might have to tweak it to work for you, because different things work for different people! like all writing advice, it is best approached as suggestions and not as rules, so while i think this is all stuff worth trying, i also think that if you find it doesn't work with how your writing brain works, you should absolutely chuck it out the window.

firstly: get comfortable with the idea that the story is going to evolve as you write it. when you're writing something long, you ARE going to get far into it and realize you fucked something up at the begininning, or realize you left something out, or realize you need to change or cut something from earlier for the story to work. this does NOT mean that you're writing badly! recognizing those things is actually super smart of you! you are not beholden to what you wrote a week ago or a month ago or six months ago in your WIP. you can simply change it to better suit this story that you now know more about. no one will even know that you originally wrote it differently except maybe your alpha reader or pal you've been bouncing ideas off of, and they're legally required* to take that information to their grave. i will touch a little more on editing long fic in a minute, but i really do think this is maybe the most important piece of advice: accept that your story will change as you write, and think of it as a good thing.

(*i am not a lawyer)

writing your long fic is going to take a long time. that's a huge part of what makes it such a nerve-wracking undertaking! writing long fic is dedicating a huge amount of time and energy to a creative project that you have a lot of feelings about, and it can be really hard! but it can also be so rewarding and so worth it to see all that work turn into the story that you really wanted to tell. just the sense of accomplishment of FINISHING a long-term project like that is really cool and gratifying. it's so easy to fall into the trap of thinking "what if i put in all this work and then it sucks" but i think it's helpful to try to reframe that thought as something like "i'm going to put all this work in and learn so much about this story, and figure out how to make it the best that i can make it at this stage in my writing journey."

also, again: your first draft is not going to be perfect. it might be deeply, deeply flawed. you ARE going to have to edit. that doesn't mean you were writing badly. that is a normal and even essential part of writing. your story doesn't suck if the first draft is kinda fucked up. your story is NORMAL if the first draft is kinda fucked up. especially with long fic, getting the story out and then editing holistically to make it all work is really where the magic happens.

(i know there are people who post chapter by chapter while they write instead of writing the whole thing and editing it altogether; i cannot speak to their processes because i cannot write like that 😂)

if you are lucky enough to have a trusted friend or two willing to read as you write, cheerlead, and help you pick through tough spots in the story, i do recommend you take them up on it! because it can take so long to write a long fic, having people who are excited about your story and to provide that gratification can be really helpful. two things to keep in mind here are to make sure your alpha-readers are people you can trust not to flake on you and who will be reliably able to give pretty quick feedback, and to try to resist the urge to call on them to read every single time you write more. i usually go to mine in 5–10k chunks of long fic draft. obviously this isn't a hard and fast rule at all, but i think it a) gives them meatier chunks of story to give me feedback on and b) helps me get and stay comfortable with writing for longer periods without feedback, so i can concentrate more on the story and be less distracted thinking about how other people will react to it.

on the research front: research can be really daunting!! unfortunately i am a nerd who loves research so i usually see it as a fun challenge. but i think there are a couple of things that might help. when you're getting ready to dive into your long fic, make a list of things you're going to need to research, then divide them into things that you NEED to know to write the story (e.g. dates of important games, for pacing reasons) and things that can wait until after you get the first draft down and are editing. like, if you're writing something set in a city you're not familiar with and want to include local details, you don't need to do that research up front. use placeholder tags to fill in during editing — [RESTAURANT] or [STREET NAME] or [DESCRIPTION TO COME AFTER I LOOK AT GOOGLE STREET VIEW] — or just leave yourself a note to come back and add descriptive details later.

also, remember that fic readers are often super willing to let some inaccuracies slide for the sake of a good story, so it's okay if not everything is perfect! you are also allowed to elect to ignore canon when it does not serve you. like, in HAW, i simply said hello we are pretending that matthew re-signed in calgary, that there were no notable roster changes from the previous season, and, on a smaller potatoes level, that brady is still living with timmy and josh. because that's what i wanted for my story (and also because the matthew trade to florida happened when i was already about 70k into the draft and i was like, fuck it, we're doing it anyway 😂). which is all to say that it's okay and even good to find a balance between doing research/committing to accuracy and saying fuck it for the sake of your story.

on the editing front: try to limit the amount of editing you do while you're writing. you can get so caught up in forever tweaking what you've already written that your forward progress completely stagnates. leave most of your line-editing for after you have a draft. if you notice something that you want to change, leave yourself a note and do the actual changing after you have a draft. if you notice thousands of words in that you totally forgot that one character has a dog, leave yourself a note to go add the dog in later, and continue writing as if the dog has been there the whole time. no one will know that the dog in the first half was added in later.

the amount of STUFF that goes into a long fic can feel pretty overwhelming, so i am big on leaving myself notes and making lists when writing long fic. i know i am not going to remember every thought i have, but i know i will TRY TO remember them and will get totally bogged down. leaving a note or making a list de-bogs me so i can come back to that detail when it's time to deal with it. two essenital lists that i keep in my notes app while i'm working on a writing project are:

a list of ongoing subplots, themes, motifs, and/or mini-arcs that i want to make sure i thread evenly throughout the fic. i do not trust myself to remember these without writing them down. this is super helpful especially if i get stuck, because i can go to the list and ask, okay, what is one of these that i haven't revisited in a while, because that should probably happen next. a HAW example of this is quinn as a side character — at least once i looked at my list and was like, oh, quinn hasn't shown up in a while! i should figure out how to do a scene with him next!

a list of things i will want to review and edit for after i finish the draft. if i stop and edit in the moment i lose momentum; if i don't write the thing down, i might forget about it. so i'll just quickly add it to the list and be able to go back to it when it's editing time! a HAW example of this is me writing on this list "make it more clear that matthew is kind of a mama's boy" and eons later paying close attention to that thread in editing and adding a little more of their relationship to the story.

again this is not a hard and fast rule! sometimes i'll run into an issue with my fic and be like, oh no if i don't go back and fix this then i won't be able to figure out how the story needs to go from here. so obviously in those instances i immediately go and edit that thing! i think it takes practice to be able to tell the difference between "edit now" issues and "edit later" issues but i also think that like 90% of the time it's an edit later issue.

also, always keep a dump doc. (instead of deleting stuff from your draft, cut and paste it into a separate document for safekeeping. this makes it easier to kill your darlings since you are not actually killing them but re-homing them, and can come in handy later.)

one last thing i want to touch on is writer's block or getting stuck in the middle of a draft. with shorter stories, you can sometimes get them out in one or two creative bursts and this can be less of an issue (although obviously not NOT an issue. i am not trying to suggest that people writing shorter fic don't deal with this, lmao. the scale is just different.) writing something long is more about sustained creativity over a long stretch of time, and you are going to have highly productive periods and less productive periods because you're a human being who needs to refill their creative well sometimes. when this happens, try not to panic or despair. sometimes you run into a snarl in your story and you really just need to take a few days to ponder and let the solution come to you. however, if you get stuck and you are getting frustrated trying to figure out what comes next, here are a few things that i find helpful:

get outside and go for a walk or a run. listen to music or a podcast or audiobook. let your brain relax.

talk to a (fannish) friend over the phone/videochat or in person about it, over coffee or dinner or something. sometimes talking about it out loud helps process things in a different way than typing.

figure out what the next big plot point you want to get to is, and then look at where your story is now, and think about what needs to happen to get them to that point. does character A need to trust character B more? devise a trust-building scene. does character A need more self-confidence? think about what kind of scene would help them build confidence.

(this might also involve looking at what you've written already and going, oh, i could build that character beat into that scene from last week! and suddenly everything works better.)

go to your dump doc — is there an abandoned snippet or idea in there that's of more use to you now?

look at your list of ongoing themes and subplots! if there's one you haven't touched in the draft for a while, figure out what's going on there!

you might not get it right on the first try and that's fine. there are scenes that i've completely re-written 4–5 times before they felt right enough for me to move forward. that can be frustrating, obviously, but it doesn't mean you're a bad writer! it takes skill to recognize when a scene isn't working!

okay, i think that's all i've got for now. i really do think that the most important thing with writing long fic is to embrace that it's going to be a long-term project, with ups and downs, productive periods and recharging periods. let the story grow and evolve as you write it. you're not going to get everything right on the first try and that's normal. it is actually so fun to be writing a scene in the back half of your story and suddenly realize you can pull the whole plot together way better by adding two sentences into a scene you wrote three months ago. writing a long fic is not like digging a tunnel, all forward progress to get to the light. it's like building a house and then rearranging the furniture and decor inside until it looks and feels the way you want it to.

i hope that some of this was helpful! good luck with your writing!! 💕

[thelaundrybitch]

A New Beginning

TURTLE DOVES!!!

I found something in my drafts, and I decided to share it.

I wrote this FOREVER ago - So I'm unsure if I will continue with it.

@leosgirl82 was there when it happened. 😁😎🤩🫶🏽💃🏽

And @drowninghell made some fanart for it - Which I will be posting if it's alright with her 🥰😍💖

Tee hee

Anyways. It was something somewhere between "write what you know" and "wicked fucking self-indulgent."

Also

IT'S NINJA FUCKING TURTLES

SO

Without further ado...

I give you...

Some Cowabunga 💙❤️💜🧡

18+ content - for mature audiences only!

THESE ARE AGED-UP NINJA TURTLES. THEY ARE GROWN ASSED ADULTS. DON'T BE A <FILL IN THE BLANK>. 😘

Or at least that’s what I tell everyone.

My name is Liz, and I work for OSHA.

You see, after I graduated with an Associate’s in Science for Occupational and Environmental Safety Management, I was offered a job with FED OSHA - Occupational Safety and Health Administration through the federal government - The job of my dreams. So, you can imagine how ecstatic I was when they hired me. 

Everything was great for the first few months - until they brought me in on a top-secret project in New York. They told me they needed a Safety Technician who specialized in humanitarian issues and loved animals. Apparently, they thought I was their girl.

Weird, right?

So, they brought me to this gargantuan underground facility, where I was given my own office with all the latest and greatest technology and safety gadgets - even ones that hadn’t been put on the market yet; It was a fucking dream. One of those ‘too good to be true’ scenarios.

And indeed. It was too good to be true. 

They moved me to Manhattan to be closer to the facility because it was necessary for me to be on call 24/7 - which was totally fine because it was just me. 

And because they paid me WELL.

So, after a few months of puttering around, fixing compliance issues, they decided it was time for me to start in my REAL job position.

“Ms. Bueno, we will be bringing you in today, to help with the major issue we hired you for, initially.”

“Great! I can’t wait to get to work!” I said to the director.

“Good. I’ll be waiting in Section K22. Please meet me down there.”

“The high-security clearance sector?” I asked, a bit confused.

“Yes,” he replied.

I nodded, and he went to walk away but stopped at my office door. “ Oh, and Ms. Bueno?”

“Yes, sir?” I asked.

“Do make sure you use the restroom before you head down. Some of the things you see may be… Shocking,” he told me.

“Certainly, sir,” I said as he turned and left completely this time.

What the actual fuck are they doing down there. 

I met the director at the entrance to K22 - which turned out to be more secure than Fort Knox - and I was handed a white lab coat and some safety glasses by his security detail, which consisted of like seven huge dudes.

“Why are you guys all wearing bullet-proof vests, and I get this?” I asked, shaking the flimsy lab coat between my index finger and thumb.

“They seem to have a soft spot for females,” said ‘Bruce’, according to his name tag.

“Well, Bruce,” I said, unimpressed by his explanation, “OSHA clearly states that whatever PPE or other safety-related articles are donned by personnel going into an area of safety concern, those same articles need to be worn by EVERYONE that enters. Not just the men,” I stated, giving him my best OSHA inspector face. 

“She’s not wrong. Give her a vest for under her lab coat,” said the director.

That’s right. Fuck you, Bruce.

After all of my safety gear was on, they walked me down a long, brightly lit corridor that led to another door. This door could only be opened using iris recognition. 

“Ms. Bueno, what you are about to see, is one of the World’s most highly classified projects. If you tell anyone about this, you and said people will be eliminated.”

“Eliminated?” I choked out through a slightly embarrassing squeak.

“Eliminated. As in loss of life. Death. And you will be expunged - completely erased so no one knows you ever existed. Do you agree to these terms?”

Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What in the HELL have I gotten myself into…

“Uh, yes?” I said, making my response sound more like a question.

“I’m not convinced, Ms. Bueno. I need to be very convinced before we go through these doors. It’s a matter of national security.”

“100%, sir. I am absolutely, 100% positive. I swear to these terms, sir,” I told him, feeling my backbone reappear.

“Good. Samuel, we’re ready for entry,” he told the biggest security staff member.

Samuel cocked his gun and stood in front of the door, in the ready position, pointing the gun at it like the zombie apocalypse was about to ensue.

I swallowed nervously.

That’s a fucking lie. I’m about to shit my pants. No wonder he had me go to the bathroom before I came down here.

Anyway, as I’m wishing I had a diaper on, the director leaned in and initiated the iris recognition scan, successfully opening the sealed door. The security detail filed in first.

I followed the director into what looked like a giant laboratory. As we got ready to turn the corner, his security detail fanned out in front of us.

“LET US OUT!” Boomed a deep, raspy voice.

*Adrenaline rush*

“Just sit down. It’s not gonna help,” said another.

“HE NEEDS HELP!” yelled the first voice.

“I know, but they aren’t gonna let us out. And honestly, I don’t even know who could, or would, help him.” came a third voice.

I saw the director from the corner of my eye, turn and look at me as I stood stock-still, looking forward, and waiting to be told that I could proceed.   

He didn’t say anything, so I turned and looked at him, my eyes the size of Jupiter. All pupil.

He nodded once, and I stepped around the corner.

May God strike me dead where I stand, if I’m lying. 

There was a giant reinforced cage, resembling jail cells, holding the fucking Ninja Turtles in them.

I shit you not.

Albeit they were a bit older than we’d seen them in movies, and they looked slightly different, but they were definitely THE Ninja Turtles.

I gathered myself and turned to the director. “What is my job here, sir?” I asked him, completely composed with a straight face.

“Health and Safety,” He said, sadness flashing across his eyes for less than a moment. “We will leave you and let you do what you need to do,” he said, leaving me alone with the caged turtle-men. 

Once I was sure I was alone, I looked around for security cameras. When I'd decided there were none - probably for top-secret and national security reasons - I took off the stupid lab coat, safety glasses, and bulletproof vest and ran to the cages.

“Oh my god, what happened to him?” I asked, squatting down and reaching an arm through the bars to check Donatello’s pulse.

The other three turned and looked at me, confused. 

“Don’t touch him,” Growled the red-banded bara.

“Who are you?” asked Leonardo, putting a hand up in a placating manner, in an attempt to get his brother to back down.

“I’m the lead Health and Safety technician for this project. They hired me six months ago for this project, but this is the first time hearing about all of this,” I said, slightly alarmed by the faintness of Donnie's heartbeat. “Now, please tell me, what happened to him,” I said to Leo, looking him directly in the eyes.

“We don’t know. They sedated him. Heavily. And took him out of the lab. He was gone for two days. He’s been like this since they brought him back,” said Leo, now kneeling in the corner of the cell so he was next to me and his unconscious brother.

“And how long ago did they bring him back?” I asked.

“Maybe three to four hours ago? It’s hard to tell. We’ve been stuck in here forever.”

“Oh God… Is he allergic to anything? Does he have any health issues?” I prodded, my eyebrows furrowed, and my face twisted in clear heartache.

“Uh, no, no. None of us do. I mean, unless you count the fact that we’re overgrown, mutated, humanoid turtles…” He said.

I couldn't help but smirk at him, “No. That’s actually quite normal. This is New York, after all.” 

Mikey huffed a stifled giggle from beside me, now standing the closest he could get to us, in his own cage.

As I started to stand up, Leo stuck his hand through the bars and grabbed my wrist. I looked into his gorgeous blue eyes, which were filled with sorrow and hope. “Thank you,” he whispered.

“Don’t thank me yet. I haven’t even done anything,” I told him softly.

“Yea, but you’re going to - I can see the genuine worry on your face,” he said, my face heating up as he pulled me closer to his cage to get a better look at me.

“I need to go look through the files over by the entry door,” I whispered to him. “I need to see what they were doing to him, so I can help him.”

Leo released my wrist and wiped a tear from my cheek. I didn’t even realize I was crying. 

“I’m Leo,” he introduced himself.

“I know who you guys are. You’re kinda my childhood heroes,” I confessed, looking down.

“Thank God,” huffed Raphael, visibly relaxing.

“You’re actually gonna help us then?” asked Mikey from behind me.

I turned and looked at the orange-clad turtle, “Yes, of course.”

I turned back to Leo and leaned in closer to him so he could hear me whisper...

“I don’t know how, but I promise, I’ll help you get out of here.” 

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[tryslora]

learning sentence level editing

It’s no secret that I hate editing.

I’ve told this story before: When I was in high school, I had an English teacher who told us on our first day of sophomore honors English that she would not give an A for a first draft. She had a rigorous outlining/drafting process that she was determined to teach us. Me, I had undiagnosed ADHD and was a dyed-in-the-wool pantser. So I resolved on that first day that by the end of my time with her, I would get an A on a first draft.

My final essay of junior year AP English (yes, same teacher two years in a row), I wrote about Victorian morals and literature. I read it aloud. I got an A. I only ever wrote one draft.

What that taught me was how to write very technically clean drafts, something that has stayed with me for almost four decades now. Which is great!

What it did not teach me was how to be patient enough to properly edit. And I have never really learned. In fact, that is one of my ADHD sticking points (yes, I know, that’s obvious from my reaction to her statement in the story above). I often feel that a large part of the reason I have never made it as a writer—have never broken into tradpub—is because I do not have the patience to not only write, but then create an outline from the draft, then rewrite, then do it all over again and fiddle with each sentence until it’s perfect.

I’m learning, but I’ll admit, I’m still not there, and I’m not sure I ever will be where novels are concerned. 

But right this moment, I’m feeling very accomplished and proud of myself. I had a short story that every time I worked on it, it grew. Every time I cut it, it felt like it lost its heart and like the taste of the words stopped feeling like mine. My voice disappeared.

I had finally worked out a version of it that was just under 7500 words long, and I thought it was decent. It got no traction, and I was frustrated. I put it up for critique on SFFOWW (a critique group site) while I was active there a year and a half ago. It was chosen for an Editor’s Choice review, and the first half of it got some great comments. Which I promptly had to ignore because I was dealing with other editing problems.

I returned to it recently, because I saw a call I wanted to send it to. The problem was, the call was for stories under 6k, and I wasn’t sure I could cut this story again and still retain its punch. But hey. The biggest feedback I got was about how I handled my descriptions and dialog, and the amount of repetition that slipped into my words. So I absorbed that, and I dug into the story, and I started ripping it apart.

I didn’t edit it, exactly, nor did I completely rewrite it. I printed it. I read it twice. Then I placed it on the desk and went a few paragraphs at a time and started with a blank file and filled it in. Some pieces went in verbatim. Most of it changed. Huge chunks disappeared, and a few new things appeared. Some of it got rearranged. The wordiness disappeared.

Here’s an example…

Before:

"You get one hour," Lana says softly. "One hour with him, and then you're leaving him behind. You're taking your fate and you're setting him free."

After:

"One hour," Lana says. "Then take your fate with you and set him free."

The new version of the story came in under 6k. I did it, and the best part is, I don’t hate it. In fact, this was sentence level revision of a style I had never done before. The closest I’ve come to it is editing flash fiction to be under very tiny wordcounts (or drabbles of exactly 100 words, which gods, those take me longer than writing a short fic!).

I’m not sure I could’ve done this without the editing I did for Into the Split over the last many months. I had to dig into that in ways I have never edited a novel before, and it prepared me to dig even more deeply into this short story.

I’m learning. I guess you can teach old dogs some new tricks.

[bibblelevi]

So I just randomly logged into this account and read through my drafts. I always had something on my mind and this was something to do with a fantasy au fic that will never happen. But I wrote this like 10 months ago probably?

tw: talks of old scars, blood and gore, cleaning wounds, angst

Your gaze simmers on his body from the bathroom’s doorway, all of the harsh, jutting lines, the smooth peaks of his hipbones, and the curves of his arms. Without the leathers and clothing, Levi’s much lither than he appears. It doesn’t matter, either way. He’s utterly beautiful.

But the wounds on his back. The long gashes of red, now brown and crusted from never being treated. Your throat squeezes are your heart, uneasiness sweeping through your posture. His reflection moves in the mirror, pale and marred features squinted in concentration, and as he reaches behind himself to clean the wound, his chapped mouth wobbles. He winces. He hurts.

It’s fucking devastating. You had seen those scars on his back before, and seeing them open again, bleeding again. You don’t deserve to see inside him like this, but you’re drawn to it. You want to crawl into him through the gashes and seal yourself over every inch, a protective armor clad on his most intimate and vulnerable parts. It wouldn’t matter how much someone beat, struck, or hurt, because you would be there, inside, to take the brunt of every hit. A distant vibration of the heart.

He struggles to reach the places, and eventually gives him, shoulders heaving.

“Let me,” you say.

It’s apparent he hadn’t noticed your presence, because his head whips in your direction. The stiffness in his features tenderizes.

“All right,” he says back.

You approach and dip your hand into the bucket, retrieving the cloth and squeezes out the excess water. Levi turns so his back is facing you, the only hint of his face being the sharp curve of his jaw. You brace him and yourself by placing your other hand on his arm.

Carefully, you press the cloth to his back. He hisses through his teeth and clams up, shoulders raising, hand jilting forward on instant to remove the discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” you murmur. “I’ll try to be more gentle,” but you don’t know how you can be more gentle than this.

“It’s fine.”

Your fingers leave indents on his arm, which you like more than you can bear to admit. You clean the raw, blotchy skin with a slow, blotting method, and you clean until the cloth is soaked red with him.

Rinse and repeat.

When you wring out the cloth, the water turns pink, and you stare at it, and you don’t know why that’s what finally breaks you. Your eyes swell with tears that can’t possibly burn the same as his wounds—wounds that you couldn’t prevent. It’s not a matter of being useless, or being a burden. It’s a matter of resolving yourself to your inhibitions, knowing that there really was nothing you could do, and that this would have happened regardless. Most people would find that a comfort. That you couldn’t change the inevitable. It was always going to happen this way. Levi was always going to be abused. He was always going to bleed, and hurt. And you hate it. You hate it more than you hate Zeke.

Your hand trembles, so you squeeze his arm tighter, and you duck your head. The tears drip from your eyes, the salt landing on your lips. The rag once again turns red. Rinse and repeat, and the water is now brown instead of pink.

The third time you take the rag to his back, there’s snot rolling down your Cupid’s bow. It burns your upper lip, turns it puffy. But you don’t sniffle, because if you do, he will know, so you hold your breath and you don’t hiccup and you keep your head down.

His back is not better, but it’s cleaner. The blood is now a paint-like smear on a blank canvas, the lashes like pencil marks on the skin. You continue down his body, as far down as his waistband allows. You don’t dare risking opening your mouth, cowering like an animal afraid to reveal it’s been backed into a corner, so you hook your finger and glance up to see if he doesn’t want you to go any further. He doesn’t object. He remains still, head tipped low.

You go to rinse the rag and repeat the process for the fourth time.

And as the cloth touches his skin, your body wracks with the sob you’ve been holding in since the first rinse.

You heave, and shove your face into a patch of untouched skin, and you cry all over him, desperately holding onto his elbow. You can’t fucking take it, so you weep like a child, and he lets you like a mother.

He looks down where your hand gripping the filthy cloth hovers beside your flush bodies and guides it around him until you’re clinging to him. He feels like someone who finally belongs to someone, being held like this. Even as your tears drip down his back, flaying him, and your sobs drill through his flesh into his bones, he knows he has someone to come home to.

“I’m sorry,” you choke out, gasping for air. “I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. You’re so hurt.”

He closes his eyes. “No.” His hand slides over your forearm pressed to his stomach. “Don’t be sorry. Not for this.”

“If you didn’t know me, you’d be okay.”

“If I didn’t know you, I’d be doing fuck all with my life. You gave me something to fight for. So don’t ever say you’re sorry, because I’m not.”