#i've just never really been excited to learn a language before now

[shitnerdsinspace]

I have Dutch pop music stuck in my head and I don't know what to do with myself. Thank God Alex is finally doing language lessons. I am desperate to practice speaking to someone other than my cats.

[cyxnidx]

LANGUAGE BARRIER !

characters: choso, gojo, nanami

summary: them with a bilingual-partner & their kids

ー# CHOSO didn't know just how big of a mistake he made letting his little girl learn an extra language. at first, he didn't think it'd be a big deal. his two year old learning your native language? that was an amazing idea - he loved it. the importance of maintaining your culture's language and spreading it through family made him think he was completing an aspiration he never knew he wanted. that was, until his you and his little angel decided to take things to the next level - insults. you taught her insults. and he didn't know it until he ended up upsetting her at the dinner table, and she blurted something incredibly disrespectful in your native language.

your jaw was on the floor. and choso was, rightfully so, incredibly confused. "what'd she just say?" he asks, genuinely confused about what she just told him. you begin laughing, scolding your little girl. "honey, you can't say that to daddy! that's bad." choso looks at her concerned. "what'd you say?" she crosses her arms, sticking her tongue out at him. he sighs, looking at you. "what'd she say?" collecting yourself, you sigh and whisper it to him, watching as his face contorts to complete shock. "that is so rude!"

ー# GOJO loved the idea. i mean, think about it? his little girl, stomping around, arguing with you in your language, and lowkey winning? he thought it was hilarious! of course, until she gets old enough to truly say something hurtful, but that'll be a while. or, at least, that's what he thought.

your daughter pouts, sitting in the middle of the living room floor, back facing you. she's six now, and far sassier than anything on plant earth. meanwhile, gojo is simply getting a snack bar from the kitchen. though, when you least expect it, she yells at you to shut up in your native language. your eyes go wide as you begin to slip off your sandal, walking toward her in spite of her screams. gojo wraps his arms around your torso, yelling 'calm down' and 'it's okay', having to catch your sandal when you attempt to throw it at her. your daughter approaches, just far back enough to not get caught by you, and apologizes formally before leaving to hide in her room. and now, gojo has to deal with you cursing at him. which is all fine, of course, except.. its somehow worse than you cursing at him in English?

ー# NANAMI thought it to be an interesting experience. he was the one to convince you that, no, it wasn't going to confuse him, and no, he wouldn't be upset if his daughter spoke to him in the language. because, unbeknownst to you, he's learning the language. ever since you were maybe six months pregnant? he wanted it to be a surprise for the little ones birthday. and that, it was.

you smiled, answering one of your daughters many questions for the day while nanami sat at the picnic table outside. today marks her fourth birthday, and she was ecstatic. she never really understood the significance of birthdays until recently, when nanami's been explaining to her how exciting they tend to be. "daddy! daddy! today's my birthday!" she exclaims, grinning ear to ear. "and ー and mommy made me my cake! and i helped!" she says, happily pointing to the cake, basically jumping off the ground and to the moon. nanami smiled at his daughter's excitement. "i see, darling. did you put the candles on it, too?" he asks, stifling a laugh at the slightly messy placement of the candles on top. she nods and grins. "you did a great job, darling." he praises, kissing her cheek. she asks you a question in your language, asking if it was time to cut the cake yet. before you could respond, nanami shakes his head, telling her she has to wait to light the candles first. your eyes go wide, while your daughter simply nods with acceptance. "since when did you-?" you ask, generally confused. nanami smiles. "i've been learning for some years now."

[honeybrowne]

𝐄𝐗𝐓𝐑𝐀 𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐔𝐋𝐀𝐑 𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒 — 𝐀𝐀𝐑𝐎𝐍 𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐂𝐇𝐍𝐄𝐑

— summary: you're a temptation all on your own, but how does your professor react when you show up to a meeting in a pretty summer dress?

— pairing: professor!hotch x female reader

— content: basically straight porn; aaron is extremely horny for reader; age gap (reader's age is not specified, but the dynamic implies it); established sexual relationship; forbidden sex/relationship; fem receiving oral; unprotected p in v (don't be like them); cream pie; no use of y/n [4.0k words]

— author's note: i've been rereading this and editing it like crazy over the last week bc i'm so rusty with writing & i wanted to be happy with the final result and i think i am?? who knows. anyway, thank you to @spacecowboyhotch for beta'ing this for me and making me feel better about it. and thank you to those who showed their interest in this fic, your enthusiasm has helped with my confidence tremendously <3

navigation . masterlist

College is both fulfilling and really confusing.

Confusing in the sense that you often wondered if you were pursuing the right degree.

How can anyone ever know for sure what they want to do for the rest of their life? Is there even a way to know? People change and so do their interests, but asking yourself that question had made your head hurt and stressed you out more than was healthy, so you stopped.

Now, you're only two semesters away from getting your Bachelor's and you've never been more sure of a decision in your life.

Admittedly, this revelation had nothing to do with the fact that you enjoy learning about forensics and how the human mind works, and everything to do with who is teaching you those things.

Professor Hotchner was your criminal psychology professor and was insanely handsome, middle aged, tall, broad, soft spoken—pretty much everything you found attractive in a man.

Your choice to sit in the front row and directly in front of the podium was a spur of the moment decision, but had given him a perfect and unobstructed view of you. He had caught you staring at him on several occasions because of it, and he's sure you've caught him a few times, too.

He just couldn't help himself. The way you looked at him with your pen between your teeth, however innocently, caused inappropriate images to run through his mind daily. Frequently getting lost in his own daydreams of you, imagining what you'd smell like, how your skin would feel beneath his hands. You were the first person he'd seek out, a thrill of excitement rippling up his spine when he saw you already looking at him.

You had become the primary source of his fantasies, nobody else even coming close to you. Your face and body was the one he thought of when he needed release, and it worked every single time.

It made him feel dirty and shameful, but it wasn't enough to get him to stop.

Still, Professor Hotchner would feel a heavy lump form in his throat when you'd stay after the lecture was over, waiting patiently for the rest of your peers to leave before asking him a question. Nervous you somehow knew of his filthy secret because you were always so shy face to face, rarely ever making eye contact with him.

But the profiler in him knew different. You were attracted to him, even if he struggled to understand why, your body language said everything you didn't. Still, it was purely speculation, and the insecure side of him was convinced it was his delusions playing a trick on him.

It wasn't till you scheduled a one-on-one meeting that he received absolute confirmation of his suspicions.

You hadn't gone out of your way to dress more provocatively, which some students have done in the past for a better grade, but you had a new air of confidence he hadn't seen from you before. You were the one to make eye contact first, maintaining it when his brown eyes stared back into yours, challenging you to look away.

Then, you took him completely by surprise.

"Profile me," you had said.

He thought you were joking, hadn't had a student ask him that unless they were skeptical of profiling, but he could tell that wasn't what this was.

So, he gave you exactly what you wanted.

Everything he ever noticed about you, he said, and he couldn't get enough of the way your eyes watched him intently while he did.

It intimidated you, being perceived that greatly by a man like him, but you still relished it. Knowing he chose to pay attention to you in a room full of people, taking the time to learn all those things about you without an incentive, it made you feel powerful.

After that day, you had scheduled more meetings—an excuse to spend more time with him. He didn't mind it, and would take any chance he could to see you on a more personal level. Although, he always kept these meetings strictly what they were meant to be: you getting extra academic help, something that was available to all of his students.

While you were clearly his favorite, he refused to show you favoritism. He expected the same out of you as he did everyone else, and you appreciated that. You didn't want special treatment just because you flirted with each other. That's not why you flirted with him to begin with.

You were genuinely interested, and you didn't want him to question that.

Eventually, however, your relationship had turned sexual. You had kissed him first, when you took a break together after working side by side in his office for a couple hours, grabbing coffee from the nearest coffee shop. His hand pulling you closer by your waist when another man walked in was purely instinct, not to claim possession over you, he's seen what this world is capable of first-hand.

Regardless of his intentions, his touch had awakened something in you, something that made you stand on your toes and kiss him.

It was sudden, unexpected, but absolutely welcomed. Your lips tasted sugary sweet, mixing deliciously with the lingering bitterness on his, and he couldn't stop himself there. He had taken you home after that, worshiping your body like he always dreamed, and fucked you senseless till both of your needs were satiated.

It happened several times after that, always off campus, and Professor Hotchner—now Aaron, which he had insisted you call him when you were alone—had intended to keep it that way. Establishing a no-sex-in-his-office rule for himself to strictly follow.

However, your respective schedules had made seeing each other outside of lecture impossible recently, and he was aching for you.

And the outfit you currently had on only made it worse.

It was different from what you were wearing during the lecture earlier that morning, catching him entirely off guard. The t-shirt and jeans you originally wore had been traded for a sundress that was short enough to tease him, awakening the intense hunger he felt for you.

In your defense, it was midsummer in Virginia, which meant that it felt suffocatingly hot outside.

Even he had exchanged his typical suit and tie for something more manageable in the heat, removing the tie and jacket from his wardrobe for the time being. It seems you had made the proper adjustments to your attire as well.

The only problem is, it was at his expense.

Your dress accentuated every part of your body he loves, the ones he thinks about regularly. He couldn't help but look, his eyes drifting over your figure as you walk into his office.

"This isn't what you were wearing this morning," he notes as you greet him with a brief kiss, like always.

You look down at your outfit, pulling at the hem slightly, shrugging.

"It wasn't as hot this morning."

Aaron hums, feeling your heart thump a little faster against his fingertips as he slowly traces them along the neckline of your dress, admiring the way it fits you. It's gentle and teasing and you do your best to not let it get to you.

"Well, I like it. It looks beautiful on you," he compliments.

"Thank you."

Your voice is soft, and a little bashful; you've never been good at accepting his compliments but you do your best and that's what matters most to him. He wants to be able to tell you what he thinks and you believe him, not brush it off like he's saying it just to say it.

He brings you in for another kiss, not fully satisfied with the one you'd given him before. One of his large hands caresses the back of your neck, your breath shallow as he tugs you closer by your waist. His tongue swipes over your lips, groaning into your mouth when you let him in. It's tender and loving, and way too passionate for the office.

Remembering his rule, Aaron pulls back, and places one last kiss on your cheek before distancing himself.

"In your email you said you aren't confident about the final," he says, changing the subject. "Remind me what's giving you trouble."

The kiss leaves you wanting, mind foggy as you try to make sense of his words and what just happened. He rounds his desk as you gather your thoughts, an amused expression on his face when your brows furrow, an indication that you're struggling to think clearly.

"Yeah I uh, I still don't fully understand structuralism," you finally manage.

"Okay, tell me what you do understand."

Aaron gestures for you to join him on the loveseat in the corner of the room, bringing his laptop with him. You trail behind, setting your bag on the floor and pulling out your textbook. Your dress rides up further when you sit down, exposing more of you to him, and he has to force himself to look away before he takes this meeting to an entirely different direction.

There's a tab sticking out of the pages that you use to make finding the right one you're looking for easier.

Scribbled down words adorn the margins of the textbook, different colored gel pens indicating certain details of your notes that he can't even begin to decipher.

As you begin explaining the topic to the best of your ability, Aaron listens, wanting to give you his full attention. The more you go on, the more he determines that you are overthinking it and second guessing yourself. You understand the material fine, better than he anticipated, even.

He merely scratched the surface during lectures, the topic not something that needs to be discussed in detail in this particular class, but you're thorough—he's come to learn that's a characteristic you possess in all aspects, especially the ones he tends to benefit from.

Still, he lets you continue because he loves hearing you talk, and gradually moves closer, the appropriate and respectable distance between you becoming smaller and smaller.

You waver a few times, but he signals you to keep going.

He simply wanted to be closer; didn't have any ulterior motive. It's easier to touch you from this distance, to lean in and press a chaste kiss to your cheek because he can. It's easier to admire you up close, where he can brush his finger along your jaw while he tells you how beautiful you are.

It's nothing new. Aaron's love language has always been words of affirmation and physical touch, not that you've gotten to the point that you're ready for love confessions, but it's how he expresses his attraction towards you.

However, when a draft in the room gives him a hint of your perfume, everything changes.

His touch is more determined now, intentions set on getting you out of that goddamn dress. One of his hands makes its way to your shoulder, brushing away the hair that covers your neck. He leans in, placing firm kisses along your jaw before drifting down to your pulse point.

You fumble over your words again, his lips soft and perfect and very distracting.

"Sweetheart," Aaron murmurs when you don't continue, the words muffled against your skin, "I don't remember saying you could stop."

His tone is businesslike, a stark contrast to the very unprofessional things he's currently doing to you. You suck in a breath when his hand skates over your thighs, your head instinctively titling to the side to give him better access.

"I can't concentrate," you pout.

"Then just relax and focus on me."

"But—"

Aaron nudges your jaw and captures your lips in a messy kiss, his large fingers digging into the flesh of your hip as he speaks. "You're stressing yourself out, my love. You understand the material fine. Will you let me dote on you for a moment? I've missed you."

You nod, letting out a soft moan when he retreats back to your neck, teeth and tongue working together to suck a mark into your skin. It feels so good that you forget to speak, a sharp squeeze of his hand on your thigh reminding you that he always expects a verbal response.

"I missed you too, but... what if someone hears us?"

He smiles, pleased that you know him so well. The way he's touching and kissing you is a clear indication of his end goal, and he loves that you know it.

"I suppose we'll just have to be quiet, then."

You take a shaky breath when he takes the textbook from your grasp and sets it aside before moving his hand to the seam of your thighs, a request for access. A satisfied hum leaves his lips when you open them without hesitating, and trails his fingers along the inner skin.

His touch is affectionate, not at all rough or taking, and it turns you on like crazy.

"My perfect girl," he murmurs to himself.

The praise and his voice makes you ache for him even more, and his eyes zero in on the tiny wet patch that begins forming on your panties. His mouth waters at the thought of how delectable you're going to taste when he finally gets his tongue on you.

Carefully, Aaron moves off the loveseat, kissing his way down your body as he gets settled on his knees. He pulls you closer to his face and your dress scrunches up around your waist at the action. The deep breath he takes is slow and mere inches from your barely clothed cunt, his broad and rough hands smoothing over the backs of your thighs.

"You smell incredible," he sighs, content with being in this position. "Can I, baby?"

While getting your consent every time is extremely important to Aaron, you know he's not actually asking for your permission. He already knows that you want him, but it's more to hear you beg for it. With the desperate state he's got you in, you easily give him what he wants.

"Please," you whisper. "I wanna feel you, Aaron. Please."

One of his fingers grazes your pussy as he pulls your panties to the side and out of his way, revealing you to him, the cold air in his office sending a chill up your spine.

"You sound so pretty when you beg, but you gotta be quiet for me now, okay?"

The second your meek "yes, sir" hits his ears, his mouth is on you and your back arches at the contact, a heavy groan resounding through him at his first taste of you in weeks. The warm sensation of his tongue sliding through your folds is more than enough to make your body go alight in an instant, your fingers grasping at the loveseat.

You try to watch him as he works, propping yourself up on your elbows as your jaw goes slack and your eyes threaten to shut with how fucking incredible it feels. He's good at this. So good that it's difficult to suppress a loud moan that creeps out your throat, the sound echoing throughout the room.

All he does is look at you, mouth still attached to your pussy, and you murmur a quiet "sorry" in such a pathetic tone it makes his cock twitch.

Aaron readjusts himself to get a better angle, arms circling your legs to keep you in place. He spreads your folds with his fingers to give him the space to focus his tongue on your clit, teeth occasionally coming out from behind his lips to nip at the sensitive bud. You writhe from the pleasure it brings you, your legs threatening to close around his ears and keep him there forever, and he wishes you would.

He'd live happily if he could drink in your taste every waking moment and feel the way your body shivers in response to each of his actions.

"Aaron," you whimper, bottom lip tucked between your teeth.

He hums in response, and your eyes practically roll to the back of your head, the vibration stimulating you further.

He slips a finger into you easily; the mixture of your slick and his spit giving him no resistance, so he adds another, curling the digits once he's knuckle deep and grazing a spot in you that has you grinding against his face.

"Oh, fuck," you mewl, one of your hands finding its way to his head, determined to keep him right there.

You can feel the mess you're making—of yourself, of him and the loveseat. Aaron knows he'll never be able to be in this room again without thinking of this moment, of you spread out and at his mercy, hips rolling eagerly to find your climax.

He uses his free hand to palm himself, the ache in his pants nearing unbearably painful.

"Gonna fuck your pretty pussy, baby, but I need you to come first," he encourages.

And the encouragement works like a damn charm.

The coil in your belly is tight, each delicious swirl of his tongue and thrust of his fingers tightens it further. Your body is trembling, legs shaking as you feel like you're about to erupt. He groans into you again, and your toes curl, the hand in his hair tugging and pulling as the power of your orgasm makes you squirm in his hold. Heavy pants leave your lungs, your bottom lip swollen from how hard your teeth have been digging into the flesh to keep yourself quiet.

Aaron keeps pumping his fingers into you till he feels your walls relax.

Once he does, he backs away only enough to get his belt unbuckled and his fly unzipped. He strokes himself to give you time to catch your breath, the friction providing him with enough relief that he can manage to wait for a little longer.

However, you have different plans.

"I need you inside me, please," you beg, and fuck if that sentence isn't the prettiest thing he's ever heard.

The desire in your eyes makes his heart pound wildly against his sternum—how you make him feel is dangerous. The carnal need and desire he has for you overpowers everything, and both hates it and loves it.

Hates it because it consumes him, loves it because it's you.

"How do you want me?" you ask impatiently.

Aaron gets off the ground, attempts to, anyway. His knees are not as young as they used to be, and you can't help but laugh at the face he makes when he struggles.

"Don't be a brat."

He sits down beside you and pats his lap, and you're quick to seat yourself exactly there despite your wobbly legs.

Before doing anything else, you lean into him, pressing the sweetest kisses you can muster to his lips. You can taste yourself on him and you moan into his mouth because of it. His hands smooth over your ass, giving it a firm squeeze as he pushes his hips into yours.

"I love it when you're on top of me like this," he groans.

Your head tilts back, and your mind had been so foggy from pleasure up to this point that you'd forgotten where you were, awareness suddenly coming back to you. Aaron turns your face back to him by your chin when you start looking around, eyes widening when they land on the door.

"Hey, focus on me."

"But—"

He doesn't give you the time to panic and guides himself into you, the breach sudden and breathtaking, filling you completely. You have no choice but to sit flush against his lap, his broad and strong thighs giving you all the support you need.

"It's locked," Aaron assures you, referring to the door. "I locked it when you got here just in case."

You huff a laugh, breathy and tired. "So, this was premeditated?"

"It always is," he grins.

Slowly, you begin to work your hips, after gaining the needed strength to ride him the way he likes. You falter a couple times, a little weak and uncoordinated, but he's there to help you regain your pace, the two of you working effortlessly together.

You wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him carelessly. He teases you by pulling away, smiling at the pout you give him.

It feels oddly intimate and sweet considering that you're both almost completely clothed and fucking on a slightly uncomfortable couch with the possibility of someone knocking on the door at any moment. You know he'd just ignore them, but the sound of your skin hitting his every time you slam down on him and the mingling of your heavy breaths isn't exactly quiet.

Neither of you cares, though, Aaron least of all. Touching himself to the thought of you for the last couple weeks had been good and effective, but not nearly as good as the real thing.

You're so warm and tight, your walls hugging his cock like you were made for him, and part of him is convinced you were. It feels like heaven, and he cherishes it, slipping the straps of your dress down your arms to reveal your bare chest. He groans at the sight and cups your breasts in his hands, thumbs rubbing over your nipples as you continue moving over him.

Everything feels so good that you can't even kiss him back anymore, breathing heavily against his mouth instead. Your legs feel fatigued and they begin to tremble again, whether it's from pleasure or exhaustion, you aren't sure.

"I’m getting close," Aaron warns, his voice taut and rough.

You nod, the coil in your belly forming for the second time. He begins matching your movements, thrusting up as gravity brings you down.

"Oh my— fuck," you gasp, feeling him so deep it takes your breath away.

You come in tandem, your orgasm causing you to squeeze him so tight he can't stop himself from letting go. The groans that come out of his mouth are debauched and loud, and he buries his face into your neck to subdue them. It makes you pulse around his cock, pulling out more of his warm spend.

It's soothing, and you swear you've never experienced anything this sexy in your life.

Your body slumps into his, limbs heavy and tired, a thin layer of sweat coating your skin. Aaron rolls his hips a few times, trying to prolong his blissful high. It overstimulates you, and he whispers his apology against the crown of your head, his lips finding their resting place there.

"I can't believe we just had sex in your office," you say after a while.

He laughs, nuzzling his nose against your cheek. "We weren't ever supposed to, but you looked so beautiful today, I couldn't help myself."

"Hmm," you hum skeptically, "what does that say about how I look every other day?"

Aaron huffs. "Absolutely nothing. It's just been too long since I've had you like this, anything would've gotten me this hard for you."

Your face heats up at his honesty, even the mildest of dirty talk still too much for you, especially where he is concerned. Anything that comes out of his mouth sounds sexy, because his voice fuels your libido like nothing else ever could.

It takes a while before either of you musters the strength to get up, exchanging tired kisses and gentle touches till you do. Your dress is wrinkled and so is his dress shirt, the crotch of his slacks damp and covered in the mixture of your juices and his release.

Luckily, he always keeps a spare change of clothes in his office. A habit born from his days as a profiler.

Unfortunately for you, however, you're stuck looking like an absolute mess.

Aaron does his best to help you straighten up, cleaning your thighs and smoothing out your dress before running his fingers through your hair carefully to somewhat brush it out. It's not the greatest but it does the job. The chime that comes from his phone interrupts him, a reminder of his next lecture and a signal that it's time for you to go.

He makes a mental note to turn on the diffuser and wipe down the couch when he returns.

You leave him with one last kiss, promising to do this again once the semester is over, when he isn't your professor anymore and neither of you has to worry about sneaking around.

It's a promise he hopes you keep.

[vioartemis]

Mine

(Wednesday Addams x fem! reader)

Summary: Recently Enid and you started dating. Wednesday isn't happy about it. Part 1 || Part 2 Warnings: manipulative/toxic Wednesday, Enid x reader, suggestive themes at the end (English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn't make sense TvT)

Wednesday was walking in the school's corridors, seemingly looking for something, or someone. And she found you after a moment, walking a few meters away from her.

"Y/n." she called out to catch your attention

Hearing her voice, you turned around and stopped walking.

"Hi Willa!" you greeted her with a soft smile

If it were someone else calling her that, she wouldn't hesitate to take out the knife she kept in her boot. But it was you.

You had been best friends for years, since you were little children. Wednesday liked being with you, loved, even. But just being your best friend wasn't enough for her. She wanted more.

"How are you doing?" you asked once she got closer

"I'm doing well. What about you?" she replied with a neutral tone

"I've never been better!"

"Really?"

"Yes! Things are going so well with Enid, she's the sweetest!"

"... It seems that she is, yes."

Wednesday tried her best not to show she was jealous; she hated that your relationship with Enid was going 'so well', as you said.

"You know what? She even bought me flowers the other day, my favorite ones! It was so cute!"

"How sweet of her."

She spoke quietly, her anger building up at your total obliviousness.

"Right?? I'm just so happy I have her! Maybe we should try to find you someone too, what do you think?" you asked with a gentle smile

"... A girlfriend?"

"Yes! I know you're not really into that, but maybe you'll like it! You just have to find the girl of your dreams"

"'The girl of my dreams'...?"

You nod, visibly excited.

"What would she be like?"

"... Well, someone just like you, actually..."

"Someone... like me? Are you sure it's a good idea? I mean... one me is already a lot to deal with, do you really want your lover and your best friend to be the same, haha?" you asked jokingly

A part of herself was grateful you didn't get the hint. She knew she would lose you if you learnt about her feelings right now. And even though she was desperate to be with you, she couldn't take the risk to lose you.

"I was just kidding, I'm fine on my own. I'm not looking for a partner."

That was, obviously, a lie. She was looking for a partner, just not for someone that wasn't you.

"Oh, really? Well... if you ever change your mind... I'd be happy to help you with it"

You smiled and gave her a gentle hug. She hugged back, although she knew this hug was only platonic on your side. But she couldn't tell you, not now.

You were not ready to learn that you were her true love. If you asked, she would be forced to deny it all.

You pulled away after a minute, still smiling.

"I have to go now, but we'll see each other tonight! Movie night, like we said, right?"

"That's right, indeed."

Wednesday was looking forward to this moment with you, only the two of you.

You smiled again and placed a soft kiss on her cheek, before waving goodbye and walking away.

She said nothing as you walked away, but deep down, she was bitter. She wanted you to kiss her lips, not just her cheek.

While you were god knows where, the ravenette thought of a plan to make you hers.

She couldn't be too direct; she was pretty sure it'll make you run away. She had to be more subtle. But to have a chance with you... she needed to get rid of Enid first.

Murder crossed her mind, but it would affect you too much. Her only option was to make you leave her. But how? According to what you told her, Enid was the perfect girlfriend.

If only she was an asshole, if she had cheated for example, it would've been so easy...

A twisted smirk formed on her lips as an idea popped in her head. It was the perfect plan. She just had to make sure you'll never learn about it, or you would hate her forever.

After spending your day away from the dorms, and the school in general, you knocked at Wednesday's door, ready for your movie night.

Not even five seconds later, the ravenette opened the door, inviting you to come in. She was delighted to spend the night with you. She had even prepared some snacks for the two of you.

You smile, seeing the snacks she prepared, and gave her a gentle hug.

Wednesday hugged you back, feeling a rush of emotions as your body was pressed against hers. But these emotions soon disappeared, replaced by less pleasurable ones.

"... Why do you smell like Enid?"

"Oh uh... we spent the day together. She took me out on a date"

You were so clueless. It enraged Wednesday so much. You had spent the whole day with Enid. She hated that. It was supposed to be her, not Enid.

"What movie do you want to watch?" she asked, hiding her anger, changing the subject

"What about a horror movie?"

"Alright, horror movie it is then."

She sat on her bed, waiting for you to come beside her.

"Great!" you started "I'm just gonna have a quick shower first, if that's okay"

"Sure, go ahead. You can use my bathroom."

She couldn't help but feel a little spark of joy as you said you wanted to have a shower. You wouldn't smell like Enid anymore, you would be hers only for the night.

She only had to wait a few minutes before you walked out of the bathroom, hair still wet, only wearing a towel around your body.

"I uh... kinda forgot to bring extra clothes... Would you mind if I borrowed some of yours...?" you asked hesitantly

Wednesday couldn't help the slight smile that spread across her face at the thought of you wearing her clothes.

"Of course not, take whatever pleases you."

"Thanks, you're the best!" you replied, relieved, before looking in her closet and grabbing her oversized hoodie

You went back to the bathroom to change.

When you came back, Wednesday couldn't resist to the urge to look you up and down. Seeing you in her hoodie made her feel things. It was as if you were a bit more hers now.

"You look adorable..."

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

Since the past few weeks, you had been receiving anonymous texts telling you that your girlfriend isn't a good person. Recently, pictures accompanied the texts.

When you opened the first picture, you immediately went to Wednesday for advice, not knowing she was the one sending you these.

Photoshopping pictures of Enid and other people was the only way she found to make you leave her. It wasn't the most complicated thing to do, even for her; Enid had always been touchy, everyone knew it.

But she was never close enough for these touches to be suspicious.

All Wednesday had to do was bring them just a little bit closer to each other, and the illusion was perfect.

"What should I do..?" you asked, after you explained everything to her and handed her your phone for her to see the texts and pictures

"I think it's pretty obvious that she's cheating on you. You can't let that slide, she's clearly playing with you and your feelings."

"Are you saying... I should break up with her?"

"Yes."

"But I- maybe it's just a scam or something like that..."

"Y/n."

You looked up to her as she took a step closer.

"Why would anyone want to ruin your beautiful relationship with her? It's certainly not a scam. She's just... not who you think she is. It's going to be hard, but I'm here."

Wednesday almost gagged calling your relationship with Enid 'beautiful'.

"... I guess you're right..." you say quietly "Should I... go now...?"

"Oh, dear, no. Don't tell her in person."

"What..? Why?"

"She would try to gaslight you, telling you she didn't do anything wrong, and blaming it on someone else."

"But it's not... correct... to break up by text..."

"She doesn't deserve 'correct'" Wednesday said, maybe a little too quickly. She's a cheating, lying wh- "She's not a good person. After what she did to you, it's only fair you treat her that way."

You nodded at her words. She had always been wiser than you, she certainly knew better than you. So you decided to do as she said, and pulled out your phone to... do what needed to be done.

You cried in her arms all night after that. She hated to see you like that, crying, but it was for the greater good. You'd be so much happier with her... It would be worth the suffering.

Having you in her arms for a night, in her room, in her bed, made her so happy.

<><><><> ♡ <><><><>

The next six months after you broke up with Enid, you spent almost all your time with Wednesday. She was delighted about it, feeling that you were finally were you belonged: with her.

But right now, your other friends had suggested you accompany them on a little trip, to help you think of something else. And of course, you said yes.

Wednesday was enraged. She thought getting rid of Enid would be enough, but clearly it wasn't. She would have to get rid of your friends as well.

Just as she was about to smash something in her room in annoyance, she heard a knock at her door. She sighed and rolled her eyes, wondering who it could be.

She certainly didn't expect to find you on her doorstep, just as you were supposed to be with your friends on a trip.

"Y/n?"

You seemed mad. Wednesday felt her stomach twist at the thought that you might have found out for her plan.

"Aren't you with your friends?"

"No"

"Why is that, if I may ask?"

"They tried to turn me against you. They said you weren't a good person, and a ton of mean things about you. I'm not staying friends with people like that"

The ravenette gestured to you to come in, and you gladly obliged. She suggested you took a sit and tell her everything your 'friends' said about her.

She listened carefully while making tea for the two of you.

According to what you were saying, your friends were... well, they were right. Obsessed, jealous, possessive... three adjectives that described Wednesday pretty well, when it came to you.

Apparently, you were the only one not to see it, and for once, your obliviousness was a relief to the ravenette.

"And what did you tell them?" she asked, pouring you a cup of tea

"That I didn't want to be around them until they change their mind about you"

"Dear I... I don't think they will ever stop saying such things about me." she replied, looking almost ashamed to say it

"What? Why?"

"Well... I heard them talking about me when you were not around... They started those rumors about me, and about you too."

"They... talk about me behind my back...?"

"Yes. I should have told you sooner, you don't deserve 'friends' like that."

"Does everyone secretly hate me or something...?" you asked, tears in your eyes

"I could never hate you, dear"

Wednesday sat beside you and put and arm around you. You took the opportunity to hug her tightly.

"So it's just the two of us now, hm...? I guess it should have stayed that way, just me and you..." you said quietly "It has always worked, I don't even know why I tried getting close to other people... You're the only one I need"

Your words made Wednesday's heart pound in her chest. She had dreamt to hear you say that so many times. And now you were actually saying it.

You pulled away from the hug to give her a bright smile, dried tears shining on your cheeks as sunrays hit your face.

You truly meant what you said; you felt like you didn't need anyone else beside her. Or that's what you had been manipulated to think. Because that was her plan to keep you all to herself.

You that you didn't know.

At this moment, you knew she would be the only one not to betray you or hurt you. You knew she would stay by your side. She was all you wanted.

Maybe it had always been like that, you didn't know. All you could think about was how kissable her lips looked.

Before Enid, you had caught yourself wondering what it would be like to kiss Wednesday. Later, you figured it was because you never had kissed anyone, and so wanted to know how it felt.

But now you were reconsidering it.

"... Can I kiss you...?"

You were yourself a bit surprised by the words that came out of your mouth.

But it was nothing to the surprise that hit Wednesday. She was euphoric. She wanted your lips. Needed your lips. To know how they would feel like. How they would taste like.

But she couldn't let that show, no. If she did, you would understand she had always wanted you.

She tried to compose herself, and stay as calm as possible, feigning surprise.

"You want to kiss me? On the lips?" she paused for a second, but quickly continued before you changed you mind "I wouldn't mind if you kissed me..."

You felt your cheeks heat up at her words.

You leaned in, lips now only a few inches away from hers. Impatient, Wednesday closed the gap between you two, pressing her lips to yours.

It took her all her might not to show you how much she wanted you in that kiss. She took her time, kissing you softly, yet with passion, hands holding your waist maybe a bit too tightly.

But you don't mind. Don't care even. You felt safe, loved.

You kept the kiss going for a while, enjoying the feeling of her lips against yours, before finally pulling away.

Wednesday thought the kiss was amazing. Way better than what she imagined it would be -and she imagined it millions of times.

You thought it was amazing too. Not like when you kissed Enid at all. It was... different. Better.

"How was that, dear?" the ravenette asked you in a whisper

Her heart was pounding in her chest. If you said you didn't like it, she would be devastated. She would have to use means she would've preferred not to use on you.

"It was... wow... I- I don't know what to say I... It's so different from... what I experienced before..."

At the mention of previous experience -which meant Enid, Wednesday felt a wave of jealousy. Why would you bring her up now? It was your moment, just you and her.

"But I..." you continued "I liked it... And I think... I think I like you too"

She was delighted to hear you say it. But she needed more. She needed you make you hers.

She pulled you closer to hug you, burying her face in your neck. Your scent, your body against hers, it was driving her crazy. She couldn't control herself anymore.

She pressed wet kisses on your neck, a smirk forming on her lips as she hears your breath hitch.

"W-Wednesday..."

She continued her assault on your neck, kissing, licking, biting the soft skin there, leaving marks as a sign of her possession over you.

"Mine..." she all but groaned against your neck, her hands snaking under your shirt

"Wednesday we shouldn't-"

She cut you off by biting your neck a bit more, eliciting a moan from you.

The sounds almost made her moan too. She loved it. She was the one making you moan. She wanted to hear more. But she knew she had to stop here, or she would make you run away.

She pulled away from your neck, planting another kiss on your lips.

"Mine."

You started to notice her possessive side now, but you didn't care. She loved you. She wouldn't abandon you, betray you, lie to you, cheat on you, like the others. You needed her.

"All yours"

[Next part]

[braxlrose]

I miss ur writings sm :(

I am so sorry that I've been gone for so long, I haven't posted any fan fiction in so many months and honestly I lost motivation 😭 so many ppl who were in this fandom and I created a community with, were slowly getting over this "phase" and it definitely affected me. But I'm going to try and get back into writing. I hope this will do good for now! Ive had a lot of ppl recently ask for 2005 bill hcs, and I've done that before so if this is repetitive for something else I've written, sorry!

content warnings: none

a/n: I'll be updating my tag list since it hasn't been updated since like August of last year and I don't want to be tagging people who don't care or want to see these posts anymore. So if you wanna be tagged, let me know!

2005!bill kaulitz x f!reader

sfw:

- I'm an alternative person so whenever I write for bill, I always imagine him with an alternative girl 😞 even though from what I've seen he's never really been w/ an alternative one, BUT LETS PRETEND OKAY 🙏🙏

• he absolutely loves doing hair together, I think he enjoys helping you do your hair in the morning and your make up. And he's even more greatful if you do his makeup. Then he can just relax while you help him.

• pookie has crunchy ass hair at the end of the day when he has to wash it out, don't make fun of him 😞

• getting piercings together is something he LOVES doing with you. Mainly early piercings because he only has a tongue and eyebrow piercing on his face.

• if you made music too, he would always go to your concerts and basically scream the entire time. Hopefully, you'd do the same for him.

• if you have longer nails, head scratches are always a must and he will lay in your lap for literal hours while you pamper him.

- I personally think he would love to learn words in your language if you keep something different than German. And despite what anybody thinks, he finds it hilarious to learn the dirty words.

• if you cook him something from your culture, he will literally die. He basically thinks everything about you is so cool, and learning about a culture different from his is so exciting

• but if you two really want to date, you'll have to both try to learn English or each other language because there is going to be a hard language barrier between you two.

- I think one of the reasons he would've fallen in love with you is because you were upfront with him. He's not the type of guy to just go up and kiss someone so if you confess first, that would make things so much easier.

- obviously, you'd have to get along with Tom, Georg and Gustav. So if you don't, there's no way he'll go out with you, especially if you can't get along or hate Tom.

-Dates together consist of stuff you guys bought somewhere, or if you guys went to a fastfood restaurant.

• He doesn't have a lot of money yet so dates wouldn't exactly be high class, hopefully you don't mind 😉

-Since this is around the time Tokio Hotel is getting increasingly famous, there are fangirls around trying to flirt and ask out bill all the time and he has to shoo them off. He reminds you every night about how much he loves you and that those fan girls shouldn't bother you.

-he likes to spoon you a lot, and you two switch back n forth between him being the big spoon and the small spoon.

• I think he also really likes it when you lay on top of him, with your face in his neck and your legs wrapped around him. (This also works sitting upwards).

• cuddling with him is so nice too because he actually smells really good 😱

- I think he still gets very insecure sometimes because of the haters and people who harass the band because they don't like them and you reassure him a lot.

a/n pt 2: sorry this wasn't too long! I'm trying to get back into the groove of writing so if this is terrible I'm sorry 😞

taglist: none right now

[ladystardust-thinks]

high-achiever - e.u.

Request by: @stilessbaseballbat

Hello! Can I request an imagine with Eggsy where him and the reader are appointed to train the newbies, but they become too competitive and split the group in two - One is Eggsys group and the two the readers. They make a bed which group will pass the Kingsman training? (you can choose who wins and what the loser is going to have to do)

Eggsy Unwin x Fem!Reader

A/N: It hasn't been long since I got that request. Sure. I totally didn't have it in my wips since forever. Anyway, I feel a little boring because of the choice I made on who wins but eh it's okay. It was like 4am. I'm proud of the OCs though 'cause I think they're pretty lovable. (aka I love them and they're my pretty little babies so you also have to love them, no pressure.)

Any feedback, is good feedback!! Correct me on anything you think is wrong.

word count: 2.1k

Tags/Warnings: She/Her pronouns!!, Jealous Reader if you squint really hard, kinda ooc eggsy?, OC x OC, reader is an overachiever, bad writing? English is not my first language, I learned it entirely out of social media, mention of a dog being shot (but not really), mention of reader having a dog (again, only if you squint.), Use of Y/N

"Gawain! Get up!" Eggsy's voice echoes loudly through the woman's house as he swings all the curtains wide open. She winces at the sudden light and curses the boy through her teeth.

"Y'know Galahad, I have heard rumours about people saying good morning as a greeting. Also that is a total violation of privacy. Do you know that? It's important to me that you know that." The girl whines shoving her tired body towards the kitchen, pouring coffee in a mug.

"Good morning, Gawain." Eggsy pauses. "Alright, now, the trainees list just came in and Merlin told me we are to train them. So take a look at it." He pushes the papers towards her and she takes a sip from her coffee, not making an attempt to take the papers. She looks up at Eggsy like he had killed her whole family.

"Why are you all that excited?" She asks rhetorically, not waiting for an answer. "Well, first of all I've been there and it's interesting to see newbies in my position and second of all it's going to be something to add to my successes. I'm high already but I am aiming higher."

He answers in a matter-of-factly tone and sits opposite to the girl. "What makes you think you are going to be all that good at it. I mean I am going to be there sure but-" She was rudely cut off.

"Are you implying you are better than me, Gawain?" The agent says slowly with a smile forming on his face.

"I wasn't implying anything, actually. I thought that was obvious. But before you rudely cut me off and-" She grunts in annoyance. Yet again being interrupted. She didn't like being interrupted.

"Then we can put it to the test. Drink your coffee and get dressed we are going to HQ." He states and starts wandering around the house, almost too comfortable, opening her closet and pulling out her suit, throwing it on her bed.

"You're doing it, again! I don't really appreciate that! And how did you even get inside my house? I never gave you a key. The door was locked, the lock isn't broken. What the bloody hell! You can't just sneak in like that." The woman complains kicking Eggsy out of her room as she starts to change her clothes. "We are Kingsmen, Gawain. Nothing is ever locked." She heard him say behind the door.

***

The newbies were in their cabin and they looked terrified in this sort of fun way. Y/N couldn't help but wonder if she also looked that terrified her first day at HQ. No. She thought. She was too confident. Her friends and family were sure, that was going to be the death of her. She was always sure of herself. Always. She had always been competitive.

Her parents still teased about stuff she'd do when she was little, like crying when she'd land on someone else's property while playing Monopoly.

They didn't even pressure her into all of those academic successes, she just did it.

The competitive part of her - if not her only part - is also what brought her where she is, doing something that Merlin, probably, wouldn't really like. But just like there wasn't one bone in her body that wasn't competitive, there also wasn't one that wasn't a winner.

***

"Do we get to choose who's in our team?" She found herself whispering at Eggsy while the newbies conversed with one another. "If you have your eye on someone that you think would make it easier, then no." He answers nonchalantly.

"Damn it." She swears under her breath, disappointed. "But we could choose eachothers teams. Like I choose yours, you choose mine." He murmurs.

"Okay. Then I'm giving you Marie." She says checking the document in her hand to make sure she got the name right. "Why Marie?" Eggsy asks, genuinely curious. "I don't know she seems annoying, she'd talk your ear of and get you distracted."

"Oh. Well that's good, because I actually think she's quite-"

"Then no." She changes her mind and shakes her head, her eyes still at the trainees looking over the cabin like lost puppies.

The blonde smirks, he marks his coworker's initials next to 'Marie Brown' on his own document. "Marie?" He says looking at the group of people right in front of him, searching with his eyes for the short redhead. "Yes." She speaks up. "You're with Gawain." He states.

The girl sprinted towards the, not-so-thrilled, agent excitedly. She smiled with all her teeth and squealed, standing tall, next to her.

She threw a sarcastic, tight lipped smile smile her way, then turned to look at Eggsy, the grimace never leaving her face. He just tried to hide his giggles under his breath and smiled, looking only forward because he knew if he turned to look at the woman's expression, he'd break down in laughter.

Marie grasped her mentor's shoulder proudly and Y/N's eyes widened but Eggsy's ability to hold his laugh was only getting worse. She nudged his rib with her elbow and coughed. "Okay, Elliot, with Galahad." She marked the initials G.U. on her document and let a breathy laugh out.

His eyes widened and his eyebrows went up, he turned to look at her and Elliot walked over to him. "Hello, sir." He sniffed and put his hand out for Eggsy to shake. His voice was shaky. Eggsy looked at him, then back at his sweaty hand and shook it.

Elliot let go from Eggsy's hand and wipped his hands on his uniform, fixing it and clearing his throat, as he walks next to Eggsy.

"He does realize that we are almost the same age and I am not his teacher, right?" The agent turns to Y/N and she snorts shortly. "Dont be mean," she says quietly "that's my job." She continues.

"Well, this is going to be fun." Eggsy mumbles under his breath. Suddenly regretting ever planting the idea of a bet in the girl's head.

***

"Okay, so." She clapped once to get the attention of the newbies. "The next days are going to be full of missions and tests, but you have to keep two things in mind. Always listen to your mentor and of course always look at the bigger picture. You're going to be in danger, multiple times through out this training process. If you look too closely you don't think practical, you think hypothetical. And a Kingsman doesn't have time for hypothetical."

Eggsy found himself staring at the young agent while she spoke with such loyalty and dedication. There was always this on going banter between them, about who is better at this or that, little things. But it had been amusing for him how she took everything so seriously, like she just had to win. Even if that was just an unserious game of rock-paper-scissors. He couldn't help but wonder why she was so competitive, with everyone but especially him, at most times.

That being the only trait they had in common.

How competitive they both were.

In general they we really different, she was serious most of the time and she always went by the rules, more logical than emotional, she'd always follow a good piece of advice. Eggsy was a free-er soul, he is emotional, he gets attached really easily. A smart-ass if she's ever met one. And he had this weird hero complex she could never understand, this 'I'm saving the world.' kind of attitude. She wanted to wipe that smirk of his face, bring him down to earth, shout 'We're all saving the world here!' at him.

***

"Hello there." Agent Gawain told the newbies, wet like cats, seeming miserable.

"What the hell was that?!" Hayley whined, a trainee from Eggsy's team. "That was your first quest, and if it was hot in here you'd be thanking us now." He answered the blonde girl's question.

"What was surprising, something that has never happened before, was that all of you failed. We had to drain the water so you don't drown." Y/N told her trainees. They all looked at eachother awkwardly, ashamed, as the experienced agent put her hands over her chest disappointed.

"Are you kidding me? We almost died for your stupid training and we get scolded like we're little children? I am not dealing with this crap." She got her luggage from under her bed and pushed through Galahad and Gawain so she can leave. Eggsy grimaced, his nose scrunching and his eyes squeezing shut. "She left." He heard a familiar whisper from next to him. "I know." He said. "Okay. Hopefully by the next mission we won't have anyone storming off." He turned to the rest of the group.

***

It had now came down to the final choice. The two final trainees for the decision to be made were, ironically enough, Elliot and Marie.

The trainees were both at different rooms, one across from another. Agents Gawain and Galahad were both leaning on different walls, one across from another.

Both waiting nervously to hear the gunshot from their trainee's gun. The woman made a clicking noise with her tounge as the man constantly tapped his foot against the metal floor. "Nervous, Galahad?" The agent asks the blonde. "Never, Gawain." He answers.

Gunshots are heard from both rooms and the agents let out a breath they didn't know they had been holding, realisation came to them immediately and they locked in eachother's eyes. "Does this mean...?" Eggsy started. "I think so? It hasn't happened to me before." Y/N says confused and both Elliot and Marie come out of the rooms.

"I almost shot my Barney..." Marie says to her mentor with wide eyes, holding her dog close to her chest. "Yup I know, he's alright, Mar." Agent Gawain hugs her trainee, remembering how it felt to even think of shooting Stevie when she went through her own training.

"I- Me too." Elliot says, still shocked. She sees Eggsy over Marie's shoulder, as he sighs, grimacing yet again, questioning and giving two hesitant pats on Elliot's back she couldn't describe as confrontational. She laughs on Marie's shoulder and Eggsy rolls his eyes at her.

"Okay. I mean. Good news is...you're both Kingsmen now. And you have your dogs!"

Y/N says letting Marie go.

"Congratulations on your dedication."

Marie and Elliot start talking and Eggsy discreetly takes his coworker away.

"So it's tie?" He whispers.

"I guess so." She shrugs.

She looks back at Marie and Elliot. Elliot awkwardly laughs as he makes a depressing attempt to touch Marie's arm and she giggles putting some of her hair behind her ear.

"Well that's akward." She says and Eggsy follows her eyes and also looks at the, now, young Kingsmen.

"Let the kids be. They're living their love."

"You're making me have a mid-life crisis before my time, we're like two years older than them."

Eggsy sighs theatrically. "Yes, but they feel like my kids already. Look at them opening their wings."

Gawain rolls her eyes.

"Must be sad for you. Now you can't make a move on Marie." She says sarcastically.

"I just said that so you wouldn't put her on my team. Marie's not really my type."

"What's your type then?"

"I don't know. Witty, smart, boring agents that can't bare losing?"

"Sounds very specific for the sake of 'not knowing'."

"Familiar too doesn't it?" A proud smile plays around Eggsy's lips as he is staring at her.

"Yeah, it does. Thank god my type is annoying, funny, immature agents that I just can't get off my back." She grins.

"I'm pretty hard to get rid of. Would you break a rule, Gawain?"

"Only if I am to break it with such good company, Galahad."

I would love to read your thoughts, i hope you enjoyed the story. Have a gorgeous day. Mwah!

-Shad

[icallhimjoey]

Not Enough

♥ ♥  rockstar!Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Summary: Eddie's hauled you off to LA because, turns out, when you're not throwing your life away on booze and drugs, opportunities tend to lead to more opportunities. LA's amazing, and Eddie's amazing, and suddenly life is all about sun-freckles and exciting accomplishments but... something's missing.

CW / disclaimer: 18+, language, fem!reader, angst, mentions of substance abuse and addiction, trauma

Author’s note: This story continues my Eddie story that consists of “Only Now”, “Over Now”, “Then Again” and "Never Over". I've done my best to make it so that you don't really need to read all previous parts, but, it always helps.

Wordcount: 5.2K

(find all other parts of this story here)

The mattress dipped behind you before cold air wafted underneath the covers. Movement, noise of skin against fabric, fabric against fabric, and then the noise of a heavy head meeting the pillow next to you in an exhale.

Eddie was home.

Before you knew it, you felt a hand wander over, finding its way in between your thighs, pushing through soft flesh, and curling up until Eddie’s hand splayed out just below your bellybutton. With a strong yank, you were pulled backwards, right into him, butt first. You didn’t know why he had to pull you over to his side of the bed by your vagina, but, here you were.

Arms curled around you, a knee pushed your legs apart, just to sit in between, and within just a few seconds you found yourself fully tangled up together. Heavy limbs, deep inhales, bodies wiggling until they fit together just perfectly for sleep.

“Mhm,” was all you managed as Eddie used careful fingers to move your hair aside before he buried his face into the crook of your neck. You felt the brush of his lips all the way down in your toes and relished under his protective touch.

“You smell like the bath,” Eddie whispered, inhaling the sickly-sweet artificial scent bath pearls had left on your skin.

“Mhm, you smell like studio,” you croaked back, meaning you could smell cigarettes and stale sweat the long day had left on him. It wasn’t meant to be a dig at how you thought he smelled bad – it was fine. Kind of nice, actually. It was more a dig at Eddie having spent all hours of the day, and some of the night too, cooped up inside a dark little room with a bunch of other men. You’d have liked for some of those hours to have been spent with you.

“I think we’ve done it,” Eddie’s voice slipped into a whisper mid-sentence. “Finished it.”

You hummed in reaction, just to let him know that you heard him. Eddie'd said the same thing two weeks ago, but then, the next day, there were a million things to change and redo and add and take away - this album was becoming the bane of Eddie's existence.

But he said they'd finished it now, and you hoped it was true this time.

Maybe that’s why they’d worked until the early hours of the morning. Creative work didn’t really stick to set schedules – didn’t really stick to time in general. Which... it wasn’t a problem. Not really. Not in the grand scheme of things. But time and you weren’t really getting on all that well lately. There was just so much of it.

Ever since you’d moved to California with Eddie, there’d been so much time.

Too many hours in a day. Too many minutes in every hour. Too many seconds to make you think because there wasn’t really anything to do.

Turns out that when you’re sober and learn to actually show up to things; gigs, radio interviews, award shows, TV performances, movie premiers, photoshoots, writing sessions, and even things like fundraisers, album release parties of other artists... if you show up and do the work, act and behave like the professional musician that you are, you actually... make the money.

And there was a lot more money in this game than you thought Eddie would ever be able to make.

It also really helped that he wasn’t spending all of it on substances and hotel room damages. Not that Eddie didn’t have other ways to blow through his cash, though.

But, what the steady income of insane amounts of money mostly meant was the lack of work it left for you.

Eddie had hired designers to do the interior design of the LA house. Eddie had hired a personal chef to take care of every meal the two of you could ever want. Eddie had hired gardeners, a pool guy, cleaners, and a personal assistant who got fired almost instantly because they ended up just doing your laundry.

You knew it was all coming from a good place. The best place.

It had taken a lot from Eddie to work himself up to ask you if you’d want to move to LA with him. The last thing he wanted was for you to feel forced to move halfway across the country, just because he kind of needed to for work. Correction, he didn’t really need to. It would just be easier, way more convenient. Half the band was already making plans to leave Indiana and sure, Eddie could travel. He could fly in and out and you could too, and you absolutely could’ve figured out a way to live like that.

But when Eddie carefully asked, you’d not even hesitated for a second.

It actually took some real convincing from your side, because Eddie immediately backtracked and said to forget it. He didn’t want to burden you. It was a stupid idea to begin with, he could tell his manager to work out something else, because you had a job and an apartment and a life and how could Eddie ever even think to burden you like that?

“Burden me with what? Your life?” you’d asked, looking at him like he was insane. But Eddie had shrugged his shoulders up and you’d realised that that was exactly what it was.

Over the years your heart had shattered many times for Eddie. Looking at him then, all tall, hair longer than it’d ever been, tattoos on show, sort of... flashy looking with all his chains and rings and his shiny black pointed toe boots – he looked like the rockstar the public knew him as. But all you could see was a fragile fearful little boy who seemingly had shrunk down enough for you to fit him into your pocket, and your heart shattered once more.

“Baby, come here.” You’d reached for him, and he’d instantly fallen into you, both arms around your waist, face pressed against your chest, your hand in his hair.

“We live in a shitty little apartment above a bar where I serve beers to the same seven middle aged men all day,”

“But your life is here, you love your job,”

“No, I loved the sense of independence it gave me when I moved out of Hawkins, I loved learning new skills, getting better at working with new people,” you needed him to know within his bones that what he was asking of you wasn’t a burden.

“What I love more,” you elongated the word more and felt Eddie nuzzle his nose against your collar bone, ready for you to list some shit that would make him feel better.

“Is how you sold your massive penthouse of a place for me, how you came to live with me above a bar, how you trust me with your schedule, how you always check in with me, how you value my opinion, how you don't hesitate to cancel plans because of me, how you come and pick me up from work which, I don't know how you do it, but you do do it, you do it all the time– Eddie, you keep choosing me, and–” your voice went up an octave as your throat closed up.

“Don’t cry,”

But you couldn’t help it.

Eddie had sold the penthouse because it reminded you too much of bad times. Awful times when Eddie drank mouthwash and tried to convince you he wouldn't finish the bottle but then had called you all sorts of names when you tipped it over and washed the remnants down the drain.

Eddie came to live with you, because he practically already was anyway. But your place was a small apartment, a place that smelled of beer and liquor 80 per cent of the time. And Eddie said he was fine. He'd bake bread and cake and pastries, and you'd cried when you realised it was to cover up the smell of bar you carried on you after a shift.

Eddie was kind and nice and would call his therapist whenever he needed to, would go see her on a semi-regular basis. He'd tell you about his schedule and it was never just an announcement, but instead was always a question: does this work for us? Are we okay with this?

Eddie always chose you and made sure you really felt it because Eddie knew. Eddie understood that for fucking years you’d felt the exact opposite.

Eddie would sort of choose you, just for a few days, and then he'd leave and not contact you for months.

But that was before. Eddie chose you every day now.

He wasn’t a burden to you.

He truly wasn’t.

Eddie had burdened you. For years. Not anymore, though. Everything was fine now.

Wasn’t it?

Eddie had been good. So good. He’d found ways to wade through life without the drink. Got so deeply into cooking and baking for a bit as his new obsession. Needed all the best pots and pans, until he had a whole collection of expensive kitchenware that cluttered up all kitchen storage.

Then, he’d moved onto something else. Needed something different to spark all the things within him that needed sparking.

Now that you lived in LA, in a much larger house with so much more space, the garage, one of two, was filled with Eddie’s latest hobby: pinball machines. He’d get them shipped in from all over, all special kinds, real rare ones, machines crafted by specific craftsmen, graphics designed into specific themes.

It wasn’t even about playing, Eddie just… wanted to collect the best ones and wanted them all lined up, all shiny with lights flickering and music playing.

Sometimes you'd tell him, come on Eddie, invite over the old gang, get Mike and Dustin and Lucas in here for a weekend, do a big pinball tournament. But Eddie'd just smile and tell you when he'd be expecting the next one to be delivered.

Before pinball machines it had been neon lights. And you’d been supportive. Would drive out to weird thrift stores, vintage markets and often times random people’s houses until you’d said, “Ed, I’d like the bedroom to be calm and neutral… we don’t need a big blue neon sign in here that used to hang outside of that restaurant you really like...”. 

Eddie had laughed at himself then and realized the absurdity of what the house was turning into, had apologized, and then had sold all of them.

Except for the blue one.

The one that used to hang outside that restaurant he really liked. Where the owner would serve him apple juice in a wine glass and would seat Eddie in an area where he wouldn’t be able to see the bar. And then he’d play a Corroded Coffin song – just one, to show his appreciation for the visit, and then, wouldn’t let you pay the full bill, some dishes would always miraculously go missing.

Eddie kept that neon light which found a proud spot in a hallway upstairs that lead to one of the guest rooms.  

Yeah.

Overall, Eddie had been good. 

But some days, he’d wake up and he’d feel an inside want. Knew it meant something else was wrong, and this was just how his brain was wired to cope with it. He’d done work to rewire, but sometimes, wires crossed and all he really wanted was quick relief. 

In those moments, he knew he’d have find something else to satisfy that inside want. The need for quick relief.  

In those moments, he’d find you. 

Eddie had you there. Always with him. Stuck to his hip, and vice versa.

So, you had quit your job for him. You had moved across the country for him. You had given up your whole life for him Eddie thought, even though you assured him time and time again that this was the exact life you wanted. All you needed was Eddie. Eddie was your home, and Eddie was your all, and you loved LA.  

It was the perfect place to be for Eddie’s work. It was warm all the time, gave you permanent freckles that graced your nose. Your house was big, lovely, huge backyard with a big pool. You had ample room for people to come visit and stay for a few days. Weeks if they wanted to. Guest rooms with en suites and the one downstairs even with its own entrance, so when Wayne stayed over, he could go for early morning walks without fear of waking anyone up.  

The only thing about LA you didn’t like was that there was so much time.

And it was just you.

And Eddie.

And sure, the Corroded Coffin guys. And Eddie's manager was nice. Their producer too. But they all had work, and sometimes you tagged along and it was so exciting, always so fun. Red carpets and sound checks and green rooms and festivals – it was always new and your excitement for it fueled Eddie's excitement for it.

But then there were also days– weeks like these, where all Eddie did was write, and record, and rehearse.

You remembered being 18 and hanging out with Steve a lot, sometimes Robin too, when Eddie'd be busy writing, recording, and rehearsing with his band.

But Steve wasn't in LA.

Wait.

Scratch the time being the issue – the only thing about LA you didn't like was that Steve wasn't there.

Your tripod was your tripod no more.

Steve had come to stay for a week when you'd just moved, and your week had mostly been the two of you figuring out where to buy groceries before Eddie hired someone to get them for you. After that, you'd just lazed around the pool for the rest of the week until Steve had to fly back home.

A lot had changed in the 1,5 years that followed that week.

But you missed Steve.

Steve, who had met a girl he really liked, who Robin said was lovely, but also said that she probably wouldn’t really gel with you and Eddie. Something judgmental about her. Kind, though. And very pretty.

You were glad Steve had Robin nearby still, because you knew Robin, and you loved Steve. Steve deserved the best. Deserved someone who could love him like you loved Eddie.

Robin said she did, which was good. Reassuring.

And Steve loved her.

You’d only met her a couple of times before Steve had proposed to her. Engaged to be married, just a few months in. And barely a year later, you’d been invited to a home coming big barbecue pool party at Steve’s parents’ house in Hawkins. You'd barely been able to make it, but Steve had been very adamant about it.

"I never have parties anymore, you have to come,"

"There'll be a whole non-alcoholic section of drinks, don't you even worry about it,"

"I've already talked to Eddie's manager, he said he has the time,"

"Please,"

Like you really needed convincing. Of course you'd be there, wouldn't fucking miss it for the world. Neither would anyone else, because everyone was there. The whole gang and then some. Matt was there too, and seeing an ex was never fun, but it was actually sort of okay. You didn't love the fact that you were there with Eddie, because it felt like you were shoving it into his face a little bit, but Matt was still Matt, ever the Corroded Coffin fan, and walked up with a huge smile the second he'd spotted you.

You'd learned that late afternoon that Steve had been just as pushy with everyone else about coming to this party. He'd been calling around, double and triple checking to make sure everyone really was going to be able to make it.

That's when you found Eddie narrowing his eyes at you. Pondering. Something didn't add up. Or it did, but it felt like the math problem you'd been given wasn't the correct one. You knew exactly what Eddie was thinking, and about thirty minutes later, Eddie was proven right.

The party turned out to be Steve's surprise wedding.

Eddie and you had clutched your hands tightly together throughout the whole ceremony, because what the fuck was happening? You kept making eye-contact with Robin, and she kept shrugging as if to say that she knew just as little about all of this as you did.

"Steve's married," you'd said to Eddie afterwards, stood in the Harrington's kitchen, both sort of.... defeated. Unsure of what to make of it all.

Eddie leant against the counter, arms crossed and teeth biting into his lower lip, scraping off dry skin the plane's aircon had left him with.

"I don't know why I feel offended," you'd huffed a laugh at how ridiculous that sounded.

"Offended?" Eddie asked, eyebrows quirked, clearly confused.

"Yea, I don't know... I always thought that, if any of us were to get married one day, we'd all be... more involved? Like, you'd be Steve's best man, and I'd... you know, know the bride,"

Steve didn't owe you shit, you knew that. And you'd moved away. You supposed that's what happened in life – things changed. But this all seemed very drastic. Insanely sudden. Almost out of character.

"She seems like she's good for him," Eddie offered, and you immediately agreed. Not because you thought Eddie was right, you had no idea if he was, but because that's what you wanted to be true.

A silence fell where you both stared into space for a second to let the day sink in a little.

"Steve's married... this is so weird," you'd grimaced a little at it which made Eddie reach for your arms to pull you into a hug.

It was nice how you just got to hug and kiss in the very same kitchen where before, when Steve had you over for movie nights, you'd have to sneak around a little. Not be too obvious when Eddie pretended there wasn't enough room to move around whilst preparing popcorn and you basically ended up grinding up against each other until someone would call out what was taking you so long.

"Should we get married?" Eddie asked after a beat, obviously joking, and it got you into giggles immediately.

"I don't know of a better way to make my mother both the happiest and most disturbed woman alive," you said, cheek pressed up against his chest, knowing your mother had been waiting for most of your life for you to get married. She really wanted to have that huge wedding she could get all dressed up for, to be mother of the bride for a whole day. It was just that she wasn't the biggest fan of Eddie. If anything, within your little group, she'd always really pushed for you and Steve to get together.

"She'd be so conflicted," you imagined, which meant, maybe not right now, but you added, "Let's do it!" which got Eddie right in his funny bone and pushed a barking laugh from him.

"Maybe I should start playing golf,"

"Wear pastel polo shirts,"

"Take some etiquette classes, be more like Matt,"

"Stop, she'll marry you herself if she could– don't," you saw Eddie raise his eyebrows, pretending to consider it, so you'd shut him up before he could say anything and it reduced you both into giggles.

You'd decided to be the supportive friends you both imagined Steve needed. Decided you weren't going to mention how insane and sudden all of it was. Just be happy for him. Which you were.

You just... missed him, you guessed.

"I kind of need to get out of here," Eddie sighed, looking out into the backyard where a wedding was in full swing, people getting more tipsy with every sip of bubbly they had.

You knew what he meant. Feeling anxiety creep up in a place where there were drinks up for grabs was the exact wrong environment for him to be in.

"Yea, let's go," you pecked Eddie on the lips, went to find people to say goodbye to, and then it took two hours before you had finally walked through the gates with lots of promises to come visit LA in your pockets.

Yet, Steve hadn't come out to visit you since that first time when he'd stayed over for a week.

So, yeah. The only thing you didn’t like about LA that was it was far away from Steve.  

Steve who had gotten married about four months ago.

Steve whose phone calls had dropped in frequency over time, because d’uh, Steve was married now and you lived far away from each other, and you had your own lives. Were busy. Didn’t have time for dry catch-up conversations if the only updates were that Eddie had spent a lot of nights in the studio, and you kept busy managing his agenda.

Except you did have a lot of time.

It's just that people thought you didn't. All they'd see was Eddie's life. Eddie's life was on TV, on the radio, in the magazines and newspapers and people automatically assumed you'd be so busy.

You'd spent the day reorganizing your vanity as you'd heard the cleaners downstairs, and the chefs preparing food that they'd box up and leave in the fridge for you to have later. It was something you could've done within fifteen minutes, but you'd managed to stretch it to three hours. You weren't fucking busy at all. You could've easily spent hours on the phone to Hawkins.

But Steve was married, and you had cheated on Matt with Eddie which probably never sat right with Steve's new wife - not that you blamed her - and so you didn't call. Not often. Very rarely, actually.

When you woke up that next morning, Eddie still snoring into his pillow next to you, you'd gotten out and promised yourself that you'd call Steve that day.

When Eddie eventually made it down, sleep still in his eyes, hair everywhere, you apologised to the chef that was working on lunch for him being in just his boxers.

"Morning, babe," Eddie said before pressing a kiss into your hair as he ran a warm palm over your back.

"It's afternoon," you smiled over your mug of coffee.

"Well, was the morning good?"

"Morning was lovely, had a little swim," you watched Eddie as he moved to make his own coffee, and the chef behind him started making up two plates for you.

"I don't use that pool enough," Eddie said mostly to himself.

When he turned back to look at you, you inhaled sharply and gave him a polite smile. It made him frown a second. "What?"

"I'm going to call Steve today,"

You said it like it was something you could never do behind Eddie's back. Like it was a secret you'd feel bad about keeping to yourself.

"See if I can convince him to actually come over,"

Eddie nodded through his first sip of hot coffee, his face giving away that it was definitely too hot and burning his tongue.

"Tell him to bring Robin,"

You narrowed your eyes in thought.

"Do you think that'll help?"

Eddie shrugged. It might.

It shouldn't though. It was always you, Eddie and Steve. Just the three of you. And then, for a long time, it was you and Steve and only sometimes Robin.

But fine. You could always tell Steve to bring Robin if that would push him to actually take the time to come visit you.

When you called, you got Steve's wife.

"Hey, um, sorry, I was calling for Steve?"

"Yea, he's out. Can I take a message?"

"Oh, no, that's OK... I'll try again later, when do you think–"

"He's going to be out for a while."

"Oh..."

You didn't know how to react to that.

"Can I take a message?"

"No, I–"

And then she hung up. Just, hung up on you. No polite goodbye. No nothing. You looked at the receiver, then at Eddie.

"That was weird."

You didn't want to worry, so you chalked it up to bad timing. They'd probably just been in a fight. And, everyone fought, didn't they? Especially married couples who hadn't even known each other for a full year, you thought.

But of course you worried.

So you rang back a little later, but got told that if you didn't have a message for Steve, there was no use in calling because, like she'd said before, he'd be out for a while. There was something sad to her voice. Something that made you not push further, that made you not just ask, where is he, what happened?

When Eddie suggested for you to call Robin, you did, but got her answering machine. Three times.

You'd left a message that started out all up beat. Asked her how she was doing. Told her that you missed her, that she should come visit, the weather in LA was lovely and you had a guest room waiting for her to come and occupy for a little bit.

When you got all pleasantries out of the way, you mentioned Steve. The weird and very short phone calls you'd had with his wife.

And you wanted to tell her how it had never sat right with you, that Steve had met someone the second you'd moved away, and that he'd gotten engaged just a couple weeks after he'd been out to visit you in LA, and then a couple months later, he'd thrown a surprise wedding. You wanted to tell her that you thought this is how he'd gone about things, because maybe he'd been scared no one would've RSVP'd if you all had gotten wedding invitations in the mail. But you didn't say those things. Just said you missed them, her and Steve, and wanted to see them.

The more you thought about it, the more worried you got.

"What if something's wrong?" you'd asked Eddie when he was on his way out.

"Call again tomorrow, it'll be fine. People argue. Give it a little time,"

Logically you knew he was probably right, but something had taken residence within the pit of your stomach. Set up camp there, and you knew the only way to flush it out was by speaking to Steve directly. Or have Robin call you back to tell you Steve was doing just fine.

Fuck, if you could, you would've just made your way over to go and see for yourself.

But you were in LA. 

And Steve was in Hawkins still. 

Until he wasn’t.  

"Um... babe?" Eddie called from the front step, door handle still in his hand, sunglasses somehow balanced on his forehead, just above his brows. His other hand shook his car keys into his fist when he looked back at you.

It was the next day, and Eddie had a meeting with his label. Nothing crazy, just a word on the tapes the band had dropped off the day before.

You looked, and from where you were sat, you weren't able to see much of what Eddie was looking at. Until he stepped aside a little, and someone stepped onto the threshold.

Suitcases came into vision first, one in either hand, and then, Steve was suddenly there, on your doorstep in LA, dark sunglasses hiding his emotions.

And he hadn’t known what to say, just looked at you as you'd gasped upon seeing him.

You’d rushed over immediately, arms open and you were so ready to fall into him, but you hadn't anticipated that he'd fall into you as well. Suitcases dropped and you crashed into each other. It audibly pushed the air from your lungs, and it hurt, but that didn't matter.

You heard a soft, "Careful," coming from Eddie, who held out both hands in case you were to lose balance, which you didn't.

Steve hugged, and you hugged and Eddie stood and watched, waited his turn to hug Steve. When he realised his turn wasn't going to come, because you were pushing fists into Steve and his grip didn't seem to be faltering soon either, he turned your hug into a group hug and you stood like that, on the threshold of your open front door for entirely too long.

"I called you yesterday, twice." you murmured. "Robin too,"

"I know," was all Steve said, and you wondered how he knew. Were the phone calls why he'd traveled to LA? Or had he already been on his way? Had he already booked the flight before you'd reached out?

"Wanna talk about it?"

"Not really,"

You felt Eddie's arms tense up, squeeze a little tighter, and you knew it was because he was about to pull back.

"I'm sorry, I've got... work, but please, come in, make yourself at home, have some food, take a shower," Eddie listed things off on his fingers as you finally broke the embrace.

"Are you telling me I stink?" Steve asked, the humorous undertone easily detectable in his voice.

"Yes," Eddie deadpanned before wanting to carry on the list, but your laugh interrupted him.

"We were never this blunt with him, were we?" Steve looked at you, and you recalled all the times Eddie had come to visit Hawkins, looking worse for wear and smelling like the men's room of a dirty dive bar. Steve immediately received a punch to the shoulder from Eddie.

"I'll be back in a couple hours,"

And so you'd said goodbye to Eddie, had invited Steve inside and had shown him to his room - the same one he stayed in last time. Not the one with its own entrance, but the one upstairs, close to your own bedroom.

Steve put his suitcases down on the ottoman by the end of the bed and sighed deeply.

"Sorry I didn't call before flying in,"

"Don't be, I literally called you yesterday to tell you to fucking come over already,"

Steve smiled as he started moving clothes from one of the suitcases onto the bed, stacking things in neat piles. You leant into the doorway, arms folded over your stomach, and you felt all sorts of feelings that all lead straight to guilt.

There was obviously something going on. Steve had taken off his sunglasses and revealed puffy skin and red-rimmed eyes. The hostile tone his wife had spoken with to you hadn't left your mind yet, either.

But, Steve was here now. Right where you wanted him to be, and you were reunited as the three-piece that you had always been. Morning, noon and evening. Sun, wind and rain. Birth, life and death. Past, present and future. It had always been the three of you, and even though you'd grown up, and lives had changed, having Steve over gave you the opportunity to drown in nostalgia for a few days.

Feel... complete for a little while.

Wait, that reminded you.

"How long are you staying?"

Steve kept busy and didn't look at you as he shrugged up both his shoulders.

"I don't know,"

You didn't respond. Just watched him unpack. Gave him the space to think his thoughts before he vocalized them which you knew he sometimes needed.

Then he turned his head to look at you, eyebrows scrunched up a little, almost as if he was apologizing.

"How does a month sound?"

---

The Taglisted: 

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @thefemininemystiquee @alana4610 @emmamooney @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellyxo1 @chaoticgood-munson @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @breddiemunson @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories  @phyllosilicate-s  @thebellenouvelle  @luvrsbian @joesquinns  @choke-me-eddie @alizztor @jnnyrd @did-it-work  @capricornrisingsstuff @quinnsmunson @frogers @kennedy-brooke @daleyeahson @eddielives1986 @harringtonfan4 @sadbitchfangirl

(two places left on my taglist: first come, first serve)

[moonliched]

Sorry for the spam questions, I really like thinking about your fic. So, is there anything you'd like to ramble on about that I haven't asked?

you're good! i get screen fatigue and headaches, so i've been pacing myself through the asks. you can't imagine how exciting it was to open my inbox and see questions about my fic!! i love talking about it and this has been lots of fun, thanks so much✨☺️💕💕💕💕

rambling under the cut bc it's super long!

i've been trying to write this into the fic, but idk how well it'll come across, so i might as well say it here! Y/N refers to one of their parents as their 'guardian.' i picture Y/N's guardian as being a careless parent, not bc they don't care, but bc their culture raises children in a more independent fashion. with very little actual raising. they kind of just let them do their own thing, so their guardian was super uncomfortable that their weird hybrid child actually needed a lot of assistance to survive.

Y/N grew up feeling like a burden, and that asking for help or relying on others is evidence that they lack the intelligence and capability to do anything themself. communities are more for convenience than the necessary relationships that humans need by nature, so when people move away they don't keep in contact. this includes blood relatives. communities also scatter to rebuild elsewhere frequently, so by leaving their home planet Y/N understood that they would likely never see anyone from their community, including their guardian, ever again. no one they were leaving behind would see anything wrong with this.

Y/N was seen as bizarre for getting attached to people to the extent of wanting to keep in contact after they moved. as a consequence, Y/N generally fails to keep in contact with anyone they meet unless it's a requirement of work, and they figure everyone will think they're weird if they try to keep in contact. they have turned out quite asocial. you'll notice Y/N rarely seeks out Moon even though he's always coming to visit them. all the same, they can't quite kill the human part of themself that wants people to stick around even when they're drained from too much social interaction.

also, Y/N's other parent is a victim of this. they're human, and left one day for some reason - work, travel, to earn more money for their family. they returned one day only to find their partner and child gone, because their partner did not consider or particularly care that they might want to find them again😬 Y/N works this out as a teen, but there's no way for them to seek them out.

... okay let's do some nicer ones!🍰🍓

🍓 Y/N thinks about eating fish eyes a weird amount. fish skin too. this is because i am rabid about eating chicken skin and also raw meat (prepared ofc) and when i was a child i used to go into the butcher's shop or visit the raw fish on ice in the supermarket and breathe in the smell longingly, and freak out my parents :[

🍓 Moon's love language is biting, unfortunately

🍓 BON-BON sometimes wants to hug Y/N but he got no arms :( he also sometimes wants to fight them too

🍓 BON-BON sometimes just turns on the closest monitor and stares out of it silently while Y/N is doing stuff. he wants to hang out like when a friend comes into your room to chill on your bed without speaking. but all the stuff he does is digital, so Y/N can just see him blankly staring at them and it looks very odd from their perspective lol

🍓 Y/N runs funny bc they learned to run on a flimsy floating community that rocked with the waves

🍓 the Glamrock team are all aware by now that Vanessa is incessantly antagonising Y/N. generally they're wondering if Y/N may have done something before they arrived to trigger Vanessa into launching constant verbal attacks on them, and are feeling extremely uncomfortable on Y/N's behalf. no one wants to be the one to address it with Vanessa

🍓 Y/N has no idea what pizza is, but bc of the name they're picturing some sort of spiky dish like a sea urchin

🍓 Y/N is actually eating more seafood dishes as of late than they usually would bc Vanessa keeps commenting on it, and it makes them feel resentful. so then they cook more fish in rebellion and it becomes a cycle

thanks for reading!!😋✨

[awkwardtickleetoo]

Cosquillas, Cosquillas

helloooo everyone!!! I was talking to mush the other day about including Spanish in a fic bc the dteam have been really close with the Spanish speaking community/ccs and have started learning the language themselves recently, and I've also been learning the language so I figured it would be a really fun idea to include it in a fic!!

(obviously lol) there is quite a bit of Spanish intermixed with the dialogue and everything, but everything should be pretty self explanatory in context, or at least easy to translate if need be!!

as always thank you @mushiewrites for proofreading/helping inspire this fic <333

lee!dream, ler!george, 5.7k words

this takes places after george's irl stream in madrid

enjoy :)

(also yes, the title means "tickle, tickle")

--

Dream cleared his throat as he heard the familiar beep of his keycard deactivating the lock, before turning the knob and pushing his way through the door of his hotel room. He was greeted with clean, cool air hitting his face and smelling as fresh, clean, and sharp– it reminded him of a specific comment that George had made once before, one of the first things he ever said when they all first traveled together, which was 'hotel air conditioning always smells exactly like McDonald's Sprite tastes', which made Dream laugh so hard that he needed to sit down on the floor to recover. Every time they'd stayed in a hotel after that, at least one member of the Dream Team would make a reference to that day, it was unavoidable. 

The comforting feeling of being back home, even if it was a hotel in a completely foreign country, took over his body quickly, and he sighed in relief, any negative energy or stress he still held from being overwhelmed and overheated outside slowly melting off his shoulders. Don't get him wrong, he loved going out and streaming with George, and he absolutely adored meeting fans, of course he did! He wouldn't trade it for anything else in the entire world, but sometimes when it was too hot and too many people were in one place too suddenly it could get a little much. He was excited to go out and meet more people the next day or later that night, but for now, he was happy to have a few hours worth of downtime in his own hotel room.

He shook his head, letting his fluffy hair ruffle and move as he did so, and he then rolled his neck and shoulders as he let go of the door and let it close behind him.

Or, at least, it would've closed behind him, had it not been for his energetic co-streamer trailing behind him, pushing into the room and closing the door behind him with a click just as Dream walked into the more open area of the room and placed his bag on the desk.

"Dream," The Brit began immediately upon entering, following Dream even when he paused his movements, just to catch up to him. He also took his bag off, placing it gently on the seat of the chair in front of the desk, not wanting to harm any of the expensive streaming equipment in it.

"George," Dream replied in the same urgent tone. He turned around to face George as he set the rest of his things down, watching the smaller man slide off his shoes and push them under the desk before looking back up at him.

"You need to practice your Spanish," George replied, putting his hands on his hips sassily. Dream scoffed, rolling his eyes with an extremely fond smile, before shaking his head a few times.

"George, it's fine, I know enough to get by."

"Yes, you do, but you never use it, that's the problem," George explained, and Dream scoffed again, this time more bashfully. George was actually right, but he was absolutely not going to say that.

"Okay, that– it's fine, George," He said with a smile, leaning back against the corner of the dresser behind him, crossing his ankles as he leaned. George walked over and stood right in front of him again, hands still on his hips like a disappointed mother, and Dream was actually starting to feel the psychological effects from the stance.

"Dream," He said firmly, and Dream looked at him with wide eyes and raised eyebrows. He could feel his brain falling into its usual habits, hearing George's warm voice and seeing his soft eyes look at him and feeling him stand so close and wanting to do whatever he says, but he knew he couldn't let his brain give in during such a dumb argument. He twisted his body from side to side, bracing himself against the top of the dresser as he tried to crack his back, letting George continue talking aimlessly. "Dream, there's nothing to be ashamed of. We're in Spain, with tons of friends who speak both English and Spanish, and tons of people publicly, either fans or people at stores or restaurants or whatever who do as well. No one is gonna be upset with you for not speaking fluently. But the only way to get better is to try," George explained, resting his hands on Dream's shoulders when he twisted back to the center, wanting to keep his attention. "You know what you're saying. you know parts of the language, you just don't know how to say them because you never do it! Of course you're gonna sound like an idiot, because you don't know how, that's why it's important to practice." Dream smiled at him, tilting his head to the side curiously.

"Wow. That was actually a pretty good pep talk, Georgie, you should give those more often," Dream complimented, and George blinked at him twice before letting out a scoff as he shook his head, pulling his hands off Dream's shoulders and crossing his arms over his chest.

"Okay, idiot, does that mean you're gonna practice your stupid Spanish now?" Dream sighed and tilted his head back, stretching his arms up above his head to finish his back cracking, arching his back forward and groaning as he did so.

"George, I promise, I will, I'll just do it on my own t-IME–!" Dream explained, ending it with a loud squeal that cut into his final word as he felt something swipe across the skin above the waistband of his shorts that was exposed from his stretching. He snapped his arms down instantly, covering the area with his hands, and curling in on himself by bringing one knee up slightly and then leaning forward. He could feel the heat rising to his cheeks, and he knew it wasn't just his sunburn. He glanced down, seeing George's pointer finger still poised in the same place in front of his tummy, and George smiled at him, biting his lip to tame it slightly. "Do not do that."

"Your tummy was out! I had to!"

"You absolutely didn't."

"I did! What else am I supposed to do when there's such a good opportunity, just not take it?!"

"Shut up," Dream argued, stepping away from the dresser and towards the bed, sitting down on the edge of it and leaning down to untie his sneakers. He barely pulled one loop out before he was suddenly shoved against the bed forcefully, landing on his back and bouncing on the bed as a small 'oof–' sound left his lips from the force of the movement. George jumped onto the bed as well, making the mattress bounce once again, as he sat cross-legged next to Dream's torso. His knee rested against Dream's side, against the material of his hoodie and replacing the material of his jacket that had fallen to the side in the fall, now fanning out by his sides against the comforter, the same way his wavy hair was as he looked up at George with fond eyes. "Hello."

"Hi. We're gonna practice Spanish," George said confidently, smiling down at Dream as he spoke.

"Ugh, Georgie, c'mon," Dream whined, placing his hand gently on George's knee and rubbing his thumb against the small dip on the outside of his knee cap from the way his leg was bent. "Is it really necessary?"

"Sí, yes it is. Muy necesario, Sueño. Necesitos práctica," George spoke, putting one hand up in the air to enunciate his words, and Dream was already intimidated by how much better George was at speaking the language than he was, even if he knew George was only messing around and was, obviously, nowhere close to being an expert. Dream whined again, pinching his eyebrows together and putting on his best puppy dog eyes as he looked at George, pleading with him to let it go. "Oh, stop that, you're just being a baby."

"I'm no– AH–!" Dream was cut off by another squeal as George poked his tummy, right in the center, over the material of his hoodie. He flinched and went to grab at George's hand, but the elder simply brought his other hand into the mix, poking sporadically around his tummy and making it impossible to grab him by moving away as fast as he began. He curled his legs up, kicking them as much as he could as he tried to twist and turn away from the pokes. "George!"

"How do you say… okay, you know basic words, right? Very basic words and phrases?" George asked, pausing his pokes to let Dream answer, pressing his palms flat against Dream's hoodie.

"I-I… I don't know! I mean– I guess so?" Dream answered bashfully and George immediately resumed his poking, making him squirm and giggle again.

"Okay, how do you say, uh… book, then? How do you say 'book' in Spanish– en Español."

"Uh–" Dream said, suddenly giggling when one of George's pokes landed too close to the left side of his tummy. He flinched a bit harder at that, curling his right knee up enough to his George's body, and George did not seem to approve of this. He scoffed, shoving Dream's legs away and resting one hand on the knee that had hit him, leaning all of his body weight on it to make it harder for him to curl that one up. Then, he used his other hand to poke rapidly up and down Dream's side, the same side he was pinning the leg on, and Dream shook his head and giggled helplessly as he could no longer protect that side with his leg and still couldn't manage to get a grip on George's slippery hands. "N–noho! George, plehehease!"

"C'mon, Dream. How do you say 'book' in Spanish?"

"Ihihit's– it's gonna behe bahahahad!" Dream whined, and George patted his knee where he still held it down.

"That's okay! Your pronunciation doesn't have to be good, that's why you're learning. Plus, I'm literally gonna tickle you through all of it, I don't expect you to sound like a proper fluent Spanish speaker," George explained, only somewhat reassuringly, and Dream whined again at the casual information that he was going to be tickled through all of this. There was no point trying to get out of the situation. "Now say it, Dream."

"Ihihihit's– it's lihibrohoho–" Dream muttered before throwing his hands over his face in embarrassment, lost in giggles as George grabbed both his sides and squeezed them a few times as he celebrated. Dream's legs curled up again as he did so, and his back arched slightly.

"YEAH, good job, Dream! You did it!" George exclaimed, smoothing out the fabric of Dream's hoodie over his tummy. Dream's cheeks already hurt from smiling and burned from how red and hot they were due to how hard he was blushing, and he wasn't sure he'd make it out of this alive. "Okay, uh… now say table in Spanish. How do you say that?" 

"Oh, George," Dream complained, but the poking started up immediately again, and George was moving faster now, poking several times in every area of his tummy, making his legs kick out and his heels scrape against the bed uselessly– until he remembered George hadn't given him time to take his shoes off, and they were in a hotel with beautiful, white sheets, and he could not be putting his shoes all over them, so he needed to remember to keep them away from the bed in the midst of all this. Sure, that wouldn't make it harder at all. "AH– ahahaha, okahahay! Ihihit's mehesahaha!"

"Good boy, Dream!" George exclaimed again, making Dream shake his head and cover his face again. "What about, uh…" George thought for a moment, his hand pausing it's poking but ending up with his palm at the very bottom of Dream's hoodie, and his thumb slipped under to touch Dream's bare skin and run through the sparse hair of his happy trail. Dream hummed at the motion, resting his hand on top of George's and waiting for him to continue. "Oh! Okay, how do you say kitten?" He asked softly. and Dream giggled and nodded, already prepared to answer.

"Gatito," He replied and George nodded and patted his stomach slightly. "Like you!" He finished with a gasp and wide eyes, reaching up to gently run his fingers through George's hair. George giggled as well, leaning forward as he laughed before pulling back.

"And what about puppy?" George continued, and Dream looked at him skeptically. "Like you, obviously," He finished, reaching forward and running his hand through Dream's hair to repeat his motion, and Dream scoffed and turned his head away.

"You're such an idiot."

"You know it's true."

"It's not true."

"If you're not a puppy, then why would you be letting me rub your belly right now?" George asked smugly, and Dream paused, suddenly realizing that George's thumb had slowly become his entire hand, and there was a palm rubbing circles over the bare skin of his tummy at that exact moment, and it was so gentle and relaxing that Dream hadn't even noticed. 

"Wh–"

"See. I rest my case. Now say it."

"I can't even roll my r's, though."

"I don't care. Just try, Dreamie," George encouraged, tapping his pointer finger against Dream's skin, picking it up and tracing his nail in tiny lines, threatening to do more if Dream didn't cooperate. Dream whined, tummy jumping at the scratches, and he threw an arm over his face again.

"Okay, it… it's perrito…" Dream mumbled shyly, hoping George could even hear it. He was lucky the older boy took pity on him.

"Good job! See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" George teased with a single scratch of a claw hand against Dream's bare tummy before he pulled his hand out, making Dream squeak and curl up before falling back and covering his face with both arms now.

"Ah– it was!" Dream complained, and George simply giggled, and suddenly there were two hands digging into his exposed underarms, making him shriek and slam his arms down against his sides. "GEORGE!" He yelled, crossing his arms and rubbing the leftover tingles from the sudden attack out of his own underarms. George laughed at him again, before suddenly placing his hands on Dream's hips to brace himself, and then jumping over to straddle his thighs. "Oh God, George, why?"

"For the next part. Now I'm gonna say some phrases, and you're gonna repeat them. Okay?"

"What kind of phrases?" Dream asked, furrowing his eyebrows and placing his hands on George's knees. 

"Whatever phrases I want? Duh," George explained like it was obvious, pulling out his phone and typing something in. Dream tried to lean up to look at what he was doing, propping himself up on his elbows, but George just dug his first two fingers on his free hand into the middle of Dream's ribs instead. He fell back onto the bed with a loud squeal, slamming his arm against his side and rubbing his elbow into the spot where he was so brutally assaulted. 

"I was just trying to see–!"

"Shush. I'm trying to find something."

"Are you gonna use Google transla–?"

"Shhh! Callate, Sueño!" George scolded, going back to his previous sporadic poking all over Dream's tummy and making the younger boy fall back into sweet, fluttery giggles and the task of attempting to catch George's hands to no avail. Dream had no idea how George kept moving so god damn quick to avoid his grasp, but he was pissed about it. Normally he could grab George's hands and overpower him with no issues, and now that he couldn't, he felt that much more helpless. 

"Geohohohorge! Staha– stahahahap!" Dream whined, throwing his head back against the bed and shaking it wildly, his hair falling around him once again. 

"No, you're being uncooperative."

"Yohohou–! Yohou haven't evehen gihihivehen mehe anythihihihing yehehehet!" Dream whined, settling for wrapping his own arms around his torso in hopes of deterring George. His plan worked, but only long enough for George to finish typing whatever it is he needed and set his phone on the bed beside him, by his own leg so Dream couldn't see the screen. After that, he just pulled Dream's arms away and threw them to the sides, attaching his hands to Dream's ribs and digging in all up and down his ribcage. Dream grabbed his wrists this time, but all his strength had been completely zapped out of his body from all the tickling he had already endured, so he couldn't do much except try and fail to pull George's fingers away. "Nohohoho, plehehehease!"

"I want you to repeat after me. Jorge es–" George began, keeping his tickling up as he leaned down slightly to read off his phone. "Jorge es muy genial y sorprendente."

"Wh-whahahahat?!" Dream asked in disbelief, still trying to dislodge George's hands. George decided to cut him a break, knowing it would be genuinely unfair to make Dream try to repeat things he'd never heard of before while he couldn't talk as well, and he moved his hands back down to his sides, pinching up and down them to make him squeal and wiggling his fingers firmly into his hoodie, keeping him giggling and breathless. "Whahahat the hell dohoes thahahat mehehehean?"

"Just say it, don't ask questions. Or I'll go for your tummy again."

"Nohoho!" Dream squealed, covering his tummy with his hands and holding the bottom hem of his hoodie to pull it down more. "Nonono, noho, okahahay… Uh… Cahahan– can yohou sahay it agahahain?"

"Mhm, Jorge es muy genial y sorprendente," George repeated, and Dream nodded, seeming to take it in.

"Um… okahay, uh… Jorge ehehes… muhuy– uh…" Dream began, looking to George in hopes that he'd prompt him with the rest again.

"Muy genial," George helped, and Dream nodded again.

"Muy ge– geheniahahal, y…"

"Sorprendente." George moved down his sides, ending up right above his hip bones and keeping his wiggling fingers there as Dream finished, giggling softly at the way his squirming picked up, his stomach tensed, and his words became more laced with whiny giggles.

"So–sohohor… prehendentehehe?" Dream finished, hoping he got the last word right. George smiled at him, patting his sides lightly again, before continuing his tickles above his hips.

"Sí! Good job, Sueño, muy bien!" George encouraged, and Dream couldn't help but smile at the praise. He had to admit it did feel kind of good to practice, and to know he wasn't doing too horribly at what he was doing, even if his pronunciation was already awful even without the tickling clouding it further.

"Whahat dihid it mehehean, thohough?" Dream asked, and George just shook his head.

"Doesn't matter." George gently, agonizingly slowly, pushed up the bottom of Dream's hoodie a mere few inches, exposing the waistband of his shorts and the small peak of his boxers that showed over the top, as well as the strip of bare skin the action revealed– the line between his hips, right under his belly button, the jutting bones of his hips, and the space right above them. Dream whined immediately when he felt the cool air of the hotel room that he once appreciated touch his bare skin, reaching up to hide his face again as his hips squirmed instinctively against the exposed feeling. George gently placed his hands on Dream's hips, curling his pointer finger and thumb around the bones to pinch the skin and dig his thumbs in, but he didn't move yet. He just waited there, ready to strike, just to freak Dream out. "Now say, uh…" He thought for a moment, squeezing his eyes shut and tilting his head back before suddenly it came to him. "Say 'Jorge es muy guapo'."

"Dohohoesn't– doesn't guahapo mehehean handsohome?" Dream asked, anticipation already getting to him as he giggled uncontrollably still, but pointedly refused to look at George. His head stayed straight back, eyes staring up at the ceiling fan above them like it was the most interesting thing in the world, hands nervously grabbing the blanket below him.

"Sí," George confirmed, nodding even though he knew Dream wasn't looking. "Muy bien, Sueño. Now speak."

"Okahahay, okay, um… Jorgehehe ehes– es muhuy guapohoho–"

"Sí, sí, lo sé!" George replied smugly, making Dream laugh even harder than he already was. "Now say–"

"Thehehere's mohohore?!"

"Yes! Just two more things, okay? Then I'm done. You've been doing really, really well, Dream, I don't know why you were so nervous about this."

"Ihihit's juhust embaharrassihihing for mehehe to– to doho ihit in front of sohomeone ehehelse…"

"Well, that sucks, because now I'm gonna tickle you every time I want to hear you speak Spanish, so… that's gonna suck for you, huh, poor little Sueño?" George teased, sticking out his bottom lip near the end, as he squeezed the spot he was pinching once, digging his thumb into the sweet spot of Dream's that he knew all too well, just to hear him squeal and giggle and watch him squirm.

"Nohoho, no!" Dream whined, and George giggled, pausing his tickling to readjust. He shifted upwards slightly, now straddling Dream's upper thighs near his hips, his knees ending up boxing them in to make it harder for him to squirm away. Ironically, this made Dream squirm immediately, the anticipation still building up as he waited for whatever the next attack would be.

George then picked up his phone and went to type something into Google translate again, but it only took him a few seconds this time, so Dream assumed it was only one word that he didn't know this time. He looked at the phone in confusion, and Dream giggled at his expression, making George turn to him and give him a dirty look.

"What's so funny up there, giggles?"

"No-nothing! You just looked confused at whatever you're typing and it's a little funny!"

"I think I have to listen to the pronunciation for it, so stay quiet, you," George said as he brought the phone up to his ear, and Dream would've been fine with that, until George decided that was a really great time to use his free hand to dig his thumb back into the spot above his hip. He burst out into laughter immediately, trying to twist to stop him, using both hands to try and cover the spot or pull George away, but George's hand only latched on further. "I just told you to be quiet!"

"I cahahahan't! I cahan't hehehelp ihihit!" Dream tried to explain, but George just cut him off by squeezing more, still holding the phone up to his ear. He suddenly switched from squeezing to scratching the spot below his belly button, pushing his hoodie up further just to fluster him more, and Dream laughed even louder. "Nahaha, plehehehease! Nohohohot thahahahat, George, plehehease–"

"Shut up!" George giggled, throwing his tickling hand up to slap it over Dream's mouth to keep him quiet, holding his head down against the mattress. Dream continued giggling even against George's hand, although he was muffled now, as he squeezed his eyes shut and held onto George's wrist softly with one hand. 

George finished listening to what he needed to listen to before turning his phone off and tossing it back onto the bed, using his newly free hand to scratch at Dream's tummy again, scratching up and down the sides of his tummy and all around his belly button, catching the edges every so often. Dream's eyes shot open again, looking over at George pleadingly, as he broke into desperate, high pitched, muffled laughter behind George's hand.

"Mm!" Dream whined in an attempt to get George's attention, which actually worked, and George smiled at him softly.

"You ready to keep talking?" 

"Mhm!" 

"Okay, perfect. Perfecto!" George said as he pulled both his hands away, resting them gently on Dream's sides as he let the other boy catch his breath and settle himself. "I want you to say, 'sueño es muy, muy, cosquilloso'."

"Whahahat– what does that even mehean?"

"Don't worry about it. Just say it."

"I dohohon't wanna, I'm nervohohous…"

"You don't wanna?"

"Mm-mm…"

"Okay!" George said simply, before leaning down and blowing the biggest raspberry he could manage right on Dream's tummy, barely an inch to the left of his belly button. Dream screamed, burying into loud laughter, shaking his head desperately and frantically as his hands made their way to the back of George's head. "Wanna say it now?"

"YEHEHES, yehehehehes!"

"Are you sure? Because I can always just–" George blew another raspberry, on the opposite side of his belly button this time, and Dream curled up as much as he could, falling to the side as he did so.

"OKAHAHAY, OKAY, I'll sahahahahay ihihihihit! Juhuhust– plehehehehease dohohon't dohoho– NOHO DOHOHON'T DOHOHO IHIT AGAIAHAHAHAIN!" Dream flipped as George took in a breath and leaned down again, faking him out and bursting out laughing as he heard Dream's reaction. He placed a gentle kiss above his belly button, the spot he would've given the raspberry, before pulling back up, making Dream's hands fall from.the back of his head down to cover his tummy protectively. "Stohop laughing, it's not fuhunny!"

"Oh my god, Dream, that was so precious."

"Whatever, shut up! Just– just say the– say the thing again, please, Georgie," Dream asked, and George could tell he was getting embarrassed and nervous again, so he took some pity on him again.

"Sueño es muy, muy cosquilloso," George repeated, smiling down at Dream. He placed one hand over Dream's on his stomach, gently sliding them up to his sternum and leaving his hand there for comfort. His other palm touched down on Dream's tummy, rubbing gently to help soothe him, like he had earlier.

"Okahay– um… S-Sueño es– Jesus christ, I hate this– sueño es muy… muy co– cos-qui-lloso?" Dream repeated, stumbling over the new word, sounding it out as he spoke and phrasing it as a question in case it was wrong. George smiled, patting his stomach and squeezing his hands softly.

"That's perfect, Dream, very good!"

"Can you tell me what it means now?"

"Nope. One more thing."

"Oh god, George, please be nice, please, haven't I suffered enough?" Dream begged pathetically, practically melting into the blanket below him as he spoke.

"It's okay! You'll like this one, you know how to do it already," George smiled, his own cheeks turning slightly pink as he pulled Dream's hands apart, holding his pointer fingers in each of his hands and swinging them gently in the air. "Say you love me in Spanish."

Dream absolutely lit up at this request, and George found it impossible to keep the ecstatic, bashful smile off his face as well, the one he always got when he was around Dream.

"Te amo!" Dream exclaimed, zero hesitation in his words, and if he stumbled over them unintentionally. "Te amo, Georgie, te- te quiero mucho!" 

"Okay, shut up now, that's all I had for you to do," George said, obviously flustered at how quickly Dream jumped to complete that phrase. He went to slide off Dream's legs, but Dream's hands landed on his thighs, making him pause his movements.

"No! You asked me to say it, you can't be all embarrassed about it now!"

"Shut up, Dream!"

"But I do love you!"

"Alright, that's it," George suddenly leaned down and blew another onslaught of raspberries onto Dream's tummy, over the sides of his tummy as well as above and below his belly button again. He held Dream's sides as he did so, keeping his torso in place, and Dream immediately screamed out in laughter.

"NOHOHO, GEOHORGE!" Dream whined, curling up as much as he could, throwing one arm over George's shoulders and using his other hand to hold onto the back of his head. George slipped his hands down, ending up at his hip bones once again. He curled his fingers back around his squirming hips, holding him even more firmly in place and making him giggle nervously between the raspberries. "No, no, nohoho, no– NAHAHAHA!" Dream babbled uselessly, cut off by loud, boisterous laughter as both the raspberries and the thumbs pinching at the spots above his hips came back at the same time, making him arch his back up as much as he could, shake his head desperately, frantically, and smack the sheets below him before going back to holding George's head.

"Are you ready to be finished now?"

"YEHEHEHES, YES, PLEHASE, YES, PLEHEHEHEASE," Dream begged, sucking in another breath before falling into useless laughter again. 

"Say it in Spanish then, idiot," George instructed, just to be cruel, as he switched his movements up for the final tactic. He blew a raspberry right under Dream's belly button, and dug his thumbs on the spot next to his hip bones instead of above them, right inside where they dipped back down above the waistband of his boxers. Dream yelped before dissolving into helpless laughter, going high pitched and somewhat silent before he could take in another breath. He melted further into the mattress, all strength lost at that point, and his eyes stayed squeezed shut as his head shook sluggishly against the comforter. "Well? Should I stop?"

"SI, SI, SIHIHIHI, PLEHEHE– FUHUHUCK, POHOR FAVOHOR, POR FAVOHOHOR, GEOHORGE, PLEHEHEASE–!" Dream firmly begged, a mix of English and Spanish coming out in his desperation, and George laughed and pressed his forehead against Dream's tummy before leaning back up entirely. He rubbed Dream's skin again with his palm, soothing away the ghost tickles as Dream caught his breath. 

"You okay?" George asked after a few minutes of relaxation, and Dream slowly blinked his eyes open and looked up at him.

"Mhm. Yeah. I'm good," Dream replied, voice soft and fond, and George could tell he was happy. He still felt the need to apologize, though.

"I know that was kind of mean, I hope I didn't push you or anything. I just want you to feel comfortable… Lo siento."

"Mm-mm," Dream replied, shaking his head. "It's okay. Está bien."

"Está bien?"

"Mhm, yeah. It was… pretty fun, honestly. And it was nice to practice. You were right, I really do need to practice more," Dream conceded as he arched his back to stretch again, then propped himself up on his elbows and rolled his head to either side, then pushed himself up into a normal sitting position, looking up at George with lovestruck eyes where he was still perched on his lap. George slid down Dream's thighs slightly to give him more space, making sure they were both comfortable, before returning the loving eye contact. "Can you tell me what you made me say now, though?"

"Oh! Yes, of course. I made you say 'George is very cool and amazing', then 'George is very handsome', and then 'Dream is very, very ticklish', all of which are very true!" George bragged, laughing cruelly as the way Dream's eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

"Oh, god, no, Georgiiiiiie…" Dream whined, wrapping his arms around George's waist and burying his face against his chest, pulling him in close. George laughed again, his back arching slightly from the force of Dream's hug, before he hugged back, arms around Dream's shoulders and chin on his head.

"It's okay! You don't have to say anything anymore, and we both know that's all true because you openly said it! That's pretty cool, don't you think, Sueño?" Dream giggled a bit in response, before suddenly getting an idea. He tightened his grip on George and spun as quickly as he could, flipping them over, and finishing with George laying flat on the bed, his legs pinned on either side of Dream's as he loomed above him. "Wh– DREAM?!" George yelled in confusion, trying to squirm away, but the way he was pinned kept him from being able to get any leverage to properly move.

"Yeah, Georgie, that is pretty funny, but y'know something funnier?" Dream spoke softly, and with the way he was looking over George, it felt like he was pressed right up against his ear, even though he wasn't. 

"N-no…" George replied nervously, raising his hands up to press against Dream's chest, either to try to push him off or make sure he didn't lean down any further.

"What's funnier is that I want you to say the same thing now. I want you to say that you're ticklish, I want you to say 'Jorge es muy, MUY co– co- uh… coquills… um…" Dream started off sounding intimidating, but it fell flat when he couldn't remember how to pronounce the word for 'ticklish' in Spanish. George chuckled at him, biting his lip and staring up at him as Dream looked back, putting on his best puppy eyes. "Help?"

"Cosquilloso, Dreamie," George supplied for him, smiling up at him.

"Yeah, cos-cosquilloso. 'Jorge es muy, muy cosquilloso', that's what I want you to say. To be even."

"To be even?"

"Mhm! Because– um, because…" Dream looked around, grabbing George's phone and going to Google translate himself. He typed something in, giggling to himself softly as he made eye contact with George again, leaning down to his ear before speaking in a low voice, words slow so he could put effort into pronouncing everything correctly. "Yo quiero hacerte cosquillas."

"What does that mean, then?"

"I want to tickle you." 

Dream didn't give him much time to process his words before digging his fingers into George's ribs, filling the hotel room with a new wave of boisterous laughter, and a new batch of broken attempts at speaking Spanish. George was significantly better at the language than Dream was, and even through his laughter his pronunciation was shockingly good for an amateur, however it took him a lot more breaking down and convincing for him to repeat that sentence due to him actually knowing what it meant.

But, when Dream had one hand holding up the back of George's thigh, his mouth latched onto it to blow equally as evil raspberries onto the inside of it as George had given to his tummy, and he reached the other hand forward to curl around George's ribs and dig into the especially sensitive spot on the back of them… he gave in pretty quickly. After that, a pretty quick rattling off of 'OKAHAHAY, OKAHAY, OKAY, SOHOHOY MUY, MUHUY COHOHOSQUILLOSOHOHO, PLEHEHEASE, STOHOHOP' got him some mercy, and the two were, in Dream's eyes, pretty even after that.

At least, until the next time they needed to practice their Spanish speaking.

[brandnewhuman]

Slasher instincts

@sweatyroadcopsports request

☆STARRING☆

☆Michael Audrey Myers☆

☆Brahms Heelshire☆

☆Bo Sinclair☆

☆Vincent Sinclair☆

☆Thomas Brown Hewitt☆

CONTENT:

Tw: canon violence, mature language, mentions of murder

Summary: the slashy boyfriends reacting to their s/o flinching away from them

A/N: I've been submitted this juicy angst request and honestly I was so excited to write it. Couldn't really decide between hc's or one shots but since I kept you waiting enough I decided for Hc. I went for the reader trying to cheer them up route cause I JUST LOVE THIS TYPE OF ANGST, LIKE I LOVE TO FEEL MY GUTS CHURNING BECAUSE OF HOW SAD AND HEARTBREAKING THE SITUATION GETS, and I think this way I can get more angst out of it.

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE;

Honestly I can see why his s/o flinches everytime brahms does a sudden move and sadly he does too

Brahms doesn't know how to control himself. When he's in a foul mood is not rare for you to get hurt

He has always done this; he feels upset, he gets overwhelmed, has an outburst and allows his rage to have the best of him

In those moments he doesn't realise he's hurting you ecc but as soon as they're over then he feels like shit

He might be manipulative but he never uses his physical strength upon you on purpose to force you into anything. He genuinely just gets kind of drown by his own negative emotions

Surprisingly enough, since you have been around his temper has gotten better and he now handles things a little bit less violently 

He really does want you to love him because you feel like it and not because you're scared of him or feel bad. He has now learned how much more satisfying is to know people stay out of love and not because they're forced to 

It's still happens however once in a while that he has a bit of an excessive reaction 

It happens more often than not when he's having a bad day. Everything feels like a good enough reason to be mad 

On days like those  he tends to isolate himself or however to just keep distance. Not because he doesn't wants to be with you, but because he feels so unbearable and ugly that he genuinely finds unfair to make you stay close to him

And obviously everytime this happens you try your very best to cheer him up. You just can't find it within yourself to let him feel like that without saying anything

You know what he feels or what's wrong cause he has told (after pestering him about it) and when you heard the real reason for his sudden mood swings you could swear you felt your heart break in two

You try everything on the book to cheer him up but it just feels like you're only being a burden more than being helpful

He didn't want you to feel this way but today everything has gone particularly wrong

You joking around with Malcom, later on being too busy with chores, you didn't even went to wake him up like you usually do even if it's not necessary cause he's already awake but it's just an excuse for both to spend time together 

Overall there have been too many misunderstandings and his already bad day of low self esteem didn't help

What worsened everything was the moment he finally snapped and tried to get away from you before doing something bad you flinched as he stood up from his seat

You didn't mean to and to be honest it has been quite some time since he had accidentally hurt you while throwing a tantrum but you really couldn't help. It was like your body reacted before your mind could even process what was going on. 

He paused for a moment looking at you. For a moment it felt like the whole world has went silent as he stared at you

His gaze was annoyingly unreadable, even more because of the damn mask

Like I said he's very aware of how he can be and that you have all the rights to flinch away 

But that doesn't mean he doesn't feel somehow…hurt

It's not the "you have hurt my feelings" type of thing but neither the "I feel bad because it's my fault" thing completely 

It's something between the two and It reflects at how his shoulders slump forward in both defeat and sadness

"I…I didn't mean to brahms I swear, its…its just that you stand up too fast"

He clenched his fists, fully aware of how bad it might look right now, as he heard your voice mumbling your excuses 

How can he even be mad at you when he's the one who has brought this upon himself. 

It's like all his intrusive thoughts are right but at the same time it feels bad to even think about himself and his feelings right now since you're the one that's actually scare

He makes sure to move as slow as he humanely can as he approaches you to not risk you getting up and running away 

He kneels in front of you and gently, almost as if they could break at any given time, he takes your soft hands he loves so much in his own more rough and big one's 

He traces every single line and detail of your palms and fingers, never tearing his eyes apart from your hands as his owns do they're job 

You may think he's trying to calm you down but he's actually trying to find the right words and as seconds pass by he grows more and more terrified of realising that he doesn't even know what to say. 

How could he possibly tell you he's both sorry and sad that he makes you feel this way but angry because you should know he would never hurt you on purpose? How can he explain that he knows you're scare and that you have every right but now it feels like when you look look him you don't see brahms but just someone you have to keep happy for your own sake and that all your actions are a way of self-preservation rather than genuine acts of love 

You look at him expectantly and impatient, trying to figure out if you had triggered another tantrum or if you have hurt his feelings more than how they already were

His glossy and sad big eyes are filled to brim with a million of "I'm sorry" and a billion of "I wished I could change everything" 

"I have never wished to harm you y/n…I just wish you to know that I would never do any harm to you on purpose dear" 

There's no child voice, no tantrums ecc it's the real brahms telling you the truth the best he can 

He wishes he had all the tools to be a normal lover, to give you all the things you need and deserve. It pains him greatly to know that you're kind of stuck with him, that he cannot give up the privilege of having you in his life, that he can't be that selfless to actually do what's right for your happiness rather than for his 

But worry not y/n, it can't be all tears, can't it? 

He starts being more mindful of how fast he moves when he already knows you're tense

He tries to actually communicate more instead of locking himself in his own mind and letting all the bad thoughts get to him 

The tantrums are still there but instead of being downright outbursts of rage, they're more like fighting like a "normal couple" 

He still gets really overwhelmed by emotions and feelings he doesn't understands and doesn't really know how how regulate so he tries to work on that

Every time he makes you flinch he takes your hands with one of his and with the other one he gently caresses your cheek to let you know he's not going to lay a single finger upon you

The only time he gets violent he makes the effort to focus his rage on anything but you 

Cue everytime he gets hurt like a fucking idiot and the whole thing gets forgotten for the sake of attending his wounds 

BO SINCLAIR:

Ooh you fucked up asking for this one with Bo 

He hates, HATES, the thought of scaring you 

He's never been aggressive with you cause he has always this need to prove he's not the monster everyone made out of him. That he only acted like that cause everyone kept treating him like some kind of animal everytime he felt overwhelmed by his own emotions 

It's rare to see Bo snapping at someone without good reason and the few times he has done it with you he has said sorry at the speed of fucking light 

The fact is that what's scary of Bo is not his temper but what he's capable of 

You have been in his basement when you first met him and you know how scary he is 

The fact is, he's not even mean or violent, it's the care and genuine pleasure he feels while watching people go through the same things he experienced as a child. 

It's even more fun if they react the same way he used to

He tends to do this to anyone who he deems is "being a real monster" as his father used to say

That's what, in the back of your mind always keeps you somehow on the edge

You love him immensely but you can't really help but let the intrusive thoughts wander around sometimes about the fact that one day you might do something he doesn't likes and then you would end up like every other victims

You know he loves you, you really do but sometimes you yourself don't feel like your company is enough. That you are enough for him

This time it happens to be one of those days where his mind decides to replay all of the things he tries to forget. It has been a rough couple of days with tough victims that had brought back bad memories and the fact that he hadn't been able to spend time with you hasn't helped at all

The cherry on top is when you both have an argument neither of you can remember who or why it started 

He left you to calm down for a second and just decided to have a drink since it seemed that would be his only consolation today 

After a while of watching him from afar, drinking all alone in the kitchen and just overall being miserable you decided to just say sorry and try to cheer him up

The fact is that he was already racking his own head with all the things he had said or done and how they might have affected you. 

Between him feeling like he has fucked up beyond repair, you feeling bad and trying to cheer him up, him pushing you away and shutting himself out it's just the perfect combination for the worst outcome

He just snaps and in the worst way possible 

"Can't you just go away already?! What are you even here for??!" 

Admittedly he didn't mean it to sound as it did. The meaning of each sentence in his had was different from the one you understood 

Weirdly enough, this wasn't what made you flinch. You just stood there watching him with your wide open teary eyes full of a mix of panic and sadness.

He looked at you right in the eyes and the more he stared at them the worse he felt. He kind of realise just in that moment how what he has said sounded 

What you see from outside it's a blank stare like the one you see in your worst nightmares and it feels terrifying 

So obviously when he takes a step towards you, you just flinch away holding your hands to your chest to not leave him the opportunity to take them and drag you somewhere

And that's what literally breaks him down 

And like with brahms he can't really blame you. He knows how it all looks from your perspective and that's what makes everything worse. It's the biggest misunderstanding of all history and he can't really do anything to help 

All the efforts he has made to be the best version of himself, to make it known you're the only thing that matters to him and nothing could change that, now they all feel so… useless

In his brain the whole situation it's just reinforcing the fact that maybe it's in his dna to be this way, for people to not fully trust him or feel safe around him

Suddenly his body feels like it's taking too much space and he doesn't know what to do with his hands or what to do in general 

You're kind of in the same situation. You know you have hurt his feelings and now even if you say sorry or find the best excuse ever he would never believe it and not because he's angry but because he always believe he's a monster more easily than anything you might say to make him feel better

You kind of wish he was angry at you, that would be easier to fix. If he was angry you could say sorry and tell him that it was something involuntary and you do trust him but you can't say that right now without it sounding like you just want to stay alive 

"I wouldn't have done anything to ya… I just wanted to say sorry" his brows furrow like they always do when he's trying to hold back the tears. You know that because you have noticed it happens rather frequently. He never cries not because he feels like it's weak or something but because he has always been taught that his emotions, negative or positive as they can be, should never be shown. That his feelings and his way to show them is scary and it hurts everyone so he should just keep it to himself if he doesn't want people to be upset 

You hate that he feels the need to do that again and you hit yourself mentally for making him feel like that 

As you have your own guilt trip with yourself, he's now insecure about what to do so he just decides to leave you some space and go somewhere he can let it all out without scaring you 

Unfortunately after that he becomes more close to you. That easy going and playful act he uses with victims? Yeah that's how he acts in front of you now too 

He doesn't want to risk it. If you were to leave him because of his stupid emotions he would never forgive himself 

He prefers to exhaust himself mentally by putting up a whole new, more likeable and calm person for you rather than having to see you afraid of being with him again

With time and reassurance you can help him open up again but it will take so much time and he will not trust you easily when you say you love him as he is 

How could you love him if not even his parents did? If even his brothers are sometimes scared of him? 

He could never love himself, he loves you cause you are all he wants to be but never will. You're literally the good one between the both of you and if he looks at himself he can only see bad things 

From his part though he will try to reassure you too about you being special for him. That you could never be seen as any less than his reason to live 

THOMAS HEWITT:

*sigh* this is going to break my heart

This is going to obviously be at beginning of the relationship cause I am 100% sure that once you get to know him and see how truly loyal and lovely he is with the person he loves there's no way you could have any conscious or unconscious fear of him 

I do have to say that until then this man is kinda scary 

You have witnessed him murder, butcher and eat your friends. You have seen him doing the most unspeakable and brutal things you could imagine so it's normal to fear him 

His appearance doesn't help obviously. He could easily break your neck without breaking a sweat, no matter how big or tall you think you are he's always going to be stronger. 

He has spent his whole life being a brutal machine of murder so obviously he's going to be able to hurt you without difficulty. If he wasn't like this his family wouldn't make him do all the hard work, wouldn't they?

The fact is that his personality, like of what Tommy is really made of, doesn't match with what you see on the outside

Despite everyone calling him animal or monster Tommy has much more depth and feelings than anyone you could ever meet 

That's his weakness. You would never be able to take Thomas down physically but emotionally? It's the easiest thing to hurt his feelings. And everyone does it countless times at day, whether it's unintentionally or on purpose

You may think he only gets shit from the victims but it seems like this poor man has never had a safe place where he can truly feel loved

His family is as cruel if not more as the victims when it comes to talk to him

Even luda mae, loving him and caring for him as much as she does, sometimes tends to be too rough with this gentle giant 

That's what made him want to keep you (yeah yeah shocking, the "they're kind to me" cliché I know)

When you were tied to the chair at the table, every single one of your friends kept calling him names but you just looked at him not with fear but begging for some mercy with your eyes 

Once you got to the basement and you realised what was going to happen you tried to convince him to let go of your friends, you asked for them to be forgiven and said sorry for all the mean things they were saying. Or the very least to let you call your family to say goodbye

In the blur of your fear and your survival instinct you kind of notice how he reacted more negatively to being insulted rather than being hurt or hit 

You kept crying and telling him how he didn't have to do this, that you knew he was a nice person 

And you meant it cause you caught the glimpse of guilt in his eyes

So he just kept you with him in the basement, far from his family's eye 

He lives for your nice words. He acknowledges you may be saying everything out of fear and sometimes he hates to be so aware of it but those moments, even if fake, are the best moments of the day. When you look at him with those big gentle glossy eyes, asking him with a soft although shaking voice how was his day it's like a piece of heaven has been gifted to him 

He has tried to make the basement as comfortable as possible for you and even though initially it felt like you were some sort of pet to him, now you genuinely start to feel how much he cares about you and how much he enjoys being with you

It's not Stockholm syndrome cause you're still very much aware of what he's doing and what he is. It's more like you can't really be all that angry if you get know the full situation 

He always looks forward to spend time with you and actually listens to whatever you have to say

He has never laid a finger upon you after deciding to keep you and has done everything in his power to not make you see the gruesome part of his life

You have come to realise that the basement is a sort of comfort place where he himself hides away from the world

Everytime he feels bad or wants to get away from something that's making him feel bad he runs to the basement 

Ever since you have come to be a part of his life he doesn't feels that helpless to the crushing weight of being always alone and mistreated 

You see how he comes to the basement with his shoulders slumping downwards and his gaze fixed on the ground and as soon as he sees you he seems to almost be relieved. As if just by looking at you everything gets better 

That until now

You don't really know what has happened since the only thing you could make out of it all was the yelling and screams 

You don't even have time to get up from where you were sitting that Tommy is already getting inside slamming the doors close behind him 

Now, as I said this is still early on the relationship and while you have formed a some sort of connection you still are very much scare of him suddenly changing his mind and just going batshit crazy against you 

You see this behemoth of a man, seemingly enraged, walking aggressively and dangerously close to you through the room 

What you don't see is the wound in his shoulder his clutching on and what you don't know is that all those apparent screeches of rage are just cries of pain 

He has not only messed up his work with a victim but has gotten a particularly brutal verbal abuse from hoyt because of it, the victim kept taunting him and making everything harder and even luda mae scolded him

He is literally crying his eyes out and it's so drowned in his own pain he doesn't even notice how you're slowly approaching him and trying to calm him down

You were scared yes, but when you noticed what was going on you couldn't leave him in pain like that. He has been kind with you and has taken care of every need you had in the limits of his capacities 

It's like he can't even listen to you right now. His mind keeps replaying over and over all the insults as he walks back and forth while shaking and gripping his wound a little bit too tight, making it bleed even more 

That's when you decide that you have had enough. You couldn't go a minute further watching him in this state without doing anything so you instinctively tried to hold his hands in an attempt to get him to stop and snap out of whatever he was going through 

He moved so fast and looked at you so aggressively that you couldn't stop your body from backing away and flinching. You put your hands in front of you to shield yourself as you look at him, shaking like a leaf from fear

The sight of you like that shouldn't be so upsetting considering he has seen you like this before because of him but now it is 

Just when he was starting to make progress with you, it all goes back as it was

He let out a somewhat noise of discomfort as he hurries to make as much distance as he can so you don't feel threatened 

You can see it in his eyes how guilty he feels from scaring you like that 

Before his mind can wander further into the self-deprecating pit of blame and guilt he has you gather the courage to get closer to him again and this time you hold his hands slower than before 

That action stunts him so much he just stares at you in awe wondering what's going on

If you haven't taken him by surprise so much he would actually be wary and kind of suspicious of your intentions 

But honestly after all that has happened your gentle touch is more than welcomed 

You keep holding and caressing his hands gently and softly until you feel he's calm enough to let you check his wound

After that episode your relationship with Thomas gets only better. Everything between the both of you is more smooth after that lovely time spend with you mending him up and trying to console him from all that happened 

Everytime he has a bad day as awful as that one he now doesn't hide and shuts himself away from the world but instead he runs to you and seeks your comfort 

MICHAEL MYERS:

I feel like I'm getting repetitive with this but it really depends on what version of mikey you're talking about

Let's start with the og 

Michael has quite a temper even if it doesn't look like it. He's just good at hiding things he doesn't want people to know about him

I mean he has been doing this for years, even when he was locked up he gave hell to Loomis who never got a single reaction from Michael.

The fact is that when you always hide behind a mask you kind of forget how to function and show emotions as normal human being

His emotions are very underdeveloped and atrophied. The most he feels is a mix of resentment and rage

He has the ability to learn to feel more complex thing but the problem is how overwhelmingly oppressive his already basic emotions are

It's like he has already filled everything with the wrong stuff

Think of it as being constipated, he wants to get it all out but he doesn't has the tools to do it

The only way out is by being violent and brutal 

Like I always say it doesn't help that his whole life he has been conditioned to think one way about himself 

Not only that but he finds it hard to let other people help him too. It genuinely stresses him out 

What he likes of you is that you make him feel weirdly warm and fuzzy inside

It's like the same overwhelming level of his bad emotions but this time it's something nice he feels for once

It's kind of addictive and that's what makes him stay with you. 

You're like the only thing he seeks out unconsciously when he's feeling bad or something is wrong

Obviously he won't tell you about it, and he doesn't even wants to admit to himself 

He always tends to come off as aggressive and rough so it's not something weird to see you flinching 

However it does make him feel weirdly bad 

He came home as always the only thing different from other days was the fact that he was particularly upset 

You would never know what it was that had him feeling so down but you just know something wasn't right cause he didn't exactly look like his stoic self, but he was more loomy and looked almost sad 

You tried to cheer him up by acting as you always do so he doesn't close up and distance himself 

You were eating dinner together and honestly you were beyond worried. You had never seen him like this before and nothing you're doing it's working

You got up and got closer to him and even if you know you shouldn't you tried to hold his hand anyway 

"Michael, what's wron-" You flinched away when he suddenly lifted his hand

The fact is that he wasn't even trying to hurt you or push you away for once. He wasn't going to snap at you or choke you away as he always does when he wants you away from him

He actually was going to put his hand against your cheek and your action, while confusing, it wasn't really that surprising 

He knew that even if you say you love him you were still kind of scared of him and the way he treated you sometimes wasn't helping his case

He couldn't help to feel a little bit disappointed though

He has never cared about anyone that much but you were starting to be the best thing he has ever had in his life. 

You took care of him, like truly and genuine care. You cook him warm meals, you washed his clothes, patched him up when he was hurt, you worried about him and never pushed him to talk or do anything in return

You just genuinely enjoyed his company and you were happy every time he felt good. His whole life he has been around people who always had hidden intentions behind their actions, he has never been able to fully trust someone 

The only reason he's so rough and mean to you it's because he objectively doesn't know better. He has never had anyone teaching him those type of things 

He has been locked up since he was a child, he remembers nothing of what it feels to be touched gently so it's normal and it makes sense for him to not know how to treat you carefully 

The fact that you make him wish this wasn't true it's both annoying and frustrating 

He doesn't want to care nor trust you cause that means he has something that makes him vulnerable. 

Please reassure him that you didn't meant to and it's not because you're afraid of him

Cause even if he doesn't ask for it, it means the world for him to know that you trust him even if he's sometimes bad with you 

He needs to know you're not going to change your mind about him and try to ruin his life like everyone else has done 

He'll make sure to reward you for it 

If we're talking about rz michael… *sighs* 

Maybe you can't really tell but he's having a mental breakdown over this. 

He's so afraid of you leaving, of not being special for you anymore that he will take you flinching as a sign that you don't really love him

He's going to get so cold and unbearably suspicious with you

He's following you around, he observe every little movement you do around him to try to see if you're acting somehow different 

It's such a small thing but he really cares about you and he's very aware of how rough and scary he can be 

You're his happy place, you always look at him with such love and care and he would be heartbroken if you start to look at him like everyone else does

He's so much more expressive than og or peepaw Michael so it's not hard to tell that something is upsetting him 

If you do tell him what to do to make it better for both he would do it, it will take some time but he's willing to listen 

With peepaw Michael it's tricky

If I have to be honest this whole thing with Michael has been really fucking hard to write cause he's so hard to read sometimes 

Peepaw Michael is not going to get all angsty like his younger self nor all anxious like rz myers 

If you were someone else he would love it that you're so aware of how dangerous he is

But since it's you he's really just idk…

He finds it invalidating. He has make sure to let you know you'll never have to worry about being treated like he treats everyone else

You're the only person that's not only loyal and respectful but you're the only person he can tolerate too and that helps him no matter what, why should he hurt you? 

Unlike og Michael or rz mikey he's not unnecessarily rough with you and he has always good control over his own strength and emotions 

He has learned to be softer around you cause he knows you like it better and his emotions have become more manageable 

Not because he's older and he doesn't have energy but more because he has matured(?) And now, with you, has learned so much more about how to express feelings ecc without bringing absolute havoc over everything he comes across 

So seeing you flinch it hurts him a little bit but he won't be mad or paranoid about it. He just knows he needs to understand what has caused you to react like that and fix it 

VINCENT SINCLAIR:

Vincent can be ruthless when he wants to put it in nice words 

This has to happen early on the relationship cause there's no way he gives you reasons to be scared of him once you're together 

You have witnessed how brutal he can be when it comes to killing people to complete his work

He doesn't even care what he has to do to finish it, he'll do it and he would be lying if he say he didn't enjoyed a little bit

You have managed to get spared somehow so you're now in that weird "I don't know if I'm being kept like I'm a pet or if he does really care" place 

He's always keeping an eye on you and every single one of your moves

He's not violent or aggressive with you, it's just that he can be really intimidating 

Especially if you don't know what can make him change his mind about keeping you alive

As time goes by you'll realise he's just really shy and literally doesn't knows how to approach someone in a normal way

I think that you flinching away when he's trying to get closer to you would be actually a bonding moment

I picture this happening after he suddenly storms into his workshop shaking from rage

Someone has broken one of his wax figures. It happens that this particular one was his favourite since it was the most difficult piece he has ever made

You see him as he literally tears apart everything and it's somehow fascinating to see him in this state 

He's obviously silent and yet he expresses so much. You can literally feel the swift of energy around and how everything around him folds under his mood

Now he doesn't want you to be afraid, he has spared you cause he believes you could be that soulmate thing everyone talks about 

He isn't Interested in having any sort of power over you or making you feel like you have to keep happy in order to survive. 

It shows in the way he carefully takes care of you measuring every movement and thing he does so you can understand he doesn't mean any harm to you 

He feels like he doesn't deserves your love so he settles for at least you being comfortable around him

He dreams about the moment where you could actually look at him as some kind of friend, where he can finally see your face without the mask of fear and tension all over it

He genuinely didn't meant to have such an outburst in front of you and when he sees you flinching at every one of his movements and backing away like your life depends on it, it breaks his heart 

These are the moments where he wishes even more badly to have been born with a normal face. Not a pretty one or a perfect one, just normal would have been enough

Cause in his mind the thought of you getting comfort from something as "hideous" (as he defines himself) as his face is not even a real possibility 

He gets so nervous because of it. He panics and without thinking he quickly tries to get closer to you to somehow show you he's not going to hurt you

Which only results in you backing away even more

He really doesn't know what to do with himself. He feels like he's taking too much space and wants to disappear and make your worries disappear with him 

He's on the verge of tears from all the stress

If you don't get closer to him he's just going to sort of stop existing too close to you for a couple of days. The only time he tries to get near you is to give you food or things you need

He's scared of even breathe the wrong way and scaring you again

It shouldn't be so upsetting but to Vincent it is because he just wanted to be your friend and now everything is ruined. It just makes him feel like he's right about thinking that if he looked like Bo he wouldn't struggle so much at making people comfortable around him 

If you do get closer tho omg

This man looks like he's about to get killed, he doesn't even dares to move or blink as you approach him

He could swear that you touch his hands and talking to him feels like heaven. No it doesn't feel like, it is heaven. 

If you ask him he doesn't even remembers what you said, which is weird cause he does remember how gentle and lovely your voice sounded in that moment

He would do anything to get you to talk to him this way forever 

And he does, he literally lives and breathes for you. 

Slowly but surely you both create a more strong bond so in the end everything goes nice 

Plus, the only thing he can truly feel proud of is being able to say you don't flinch anymore around him. 

[nativestarwrites]

Tagged by the lovely @jamietarttsnorthernattitude thank you!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

106

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

258,188

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Ted Lasso and Macgyver. I've dabbed in a couple others.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Unwritten Rules (Merlin) Running Through Emotions (Ted Lasso) Unexpendable (Endeavour) Side by Side (Ted Lasso) The Unknown Variable (Macgyver)

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Yes, I do try to, it might be somewhat delayed but eventually I do respond! I like to say thanks for taking the time to leave what are often very lovely comments and sometimes chat about canon or plot points.

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

That's a tricky one, most of my fics end on a positive note, even if everything is not okay, there's hope that it will be eventually. A lot of my fics are full of angst though, it just gets resolved by the end.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Living Death? This might be because someone left a new comment on this old fic last week, but it does end with Mac and Jack taking the GTO out for a joy ride and I don't think you get much happier than that!

8. Do you get hate on fics?

No, I've had the occasional odd comment that I can't figure out but no one has really been hateful.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

No, I'm ace, it doesn't really interest me.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Not really. I have one tiny fic that is a crossover between Merlin and Macgyver though.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yes, I've had a fic posted to Wattpad without my knowledge. They did acknowledge that it wasn't theirs and was written by me. But it's still theft.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

No.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Not yet.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

USS Voyager NCC-74656

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I don't want to say never to anything but I've been saying I'll finish my Garden Fic for years and it's still not done.... :(

16. What are your writing strengths?

Bringing the angst! I like to think I'm fairly good at puzzling out plot problems and coming up with creative solutions. I generally get characters voices pretty good too.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

I could definitely do with getting tighter on my grammar! There's loads more I want to learn about being a writer and I'm far from perfect. I want to try out and learn from different genres, build my plot structure skills and develop my writing tools. And of course I have a bunch of bad habits. (I do like to start too many sentences with 'And...')

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I don't think I've ever done this but I'm not opposed to it, but I'd want to do it very carefully and be very confident in the translation!

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Pretty sure it was SPN in 2007...

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

How can I choose between them?! It might be When Darkness Falls, I'm having so much fun with this, I've been working on it for a long while now and I'm still not bored, I'm so excited to show everyone the rest of the story and what happens! It's my longest fic by a significant margin and in it I can see all the fics that came before, the ones that built my writing skills to be able to write it, so I'm also fond of it for that reason.

I don't know who's already done this, feel free to ignore but I'm going to try tagging @rosieblogstuff @abubblingcandle @thirteenemeraldcats

[onlyonetifosi]

Just us against the world

-> Word Count: 1288

-> Warnings: so much cheesy fluff,a bit insecure reader/mick and sorry for the so many temporal jums

->Author note: I would appreciate if you send some ideas or requests for me to write. English is not my first language so sorry for mistakes

Big Thanks to @vickyhateslife who has been alongside me writing this <3

Mick and I have been very good friends for years, we met when we were 10 in a karting competition back in Germany.

We went up at the same time through the junior categories, only that i stayed one year more in F4 than him, and that's why he went upto F1 one year before me.

2022 was my year, I was chosen to be the new Williams driver longside Alex Albon due to suspicious retiremment of Latifi.

Anyways, today is my day, pre-season tests, I was so nervous but I think that wasn't important as my level of excitement. The tests are over, I am back home. I feel great, the energy was just amazing. Everybody here was very friendly and positive, and so were the people of Williams. They welcomed me with open arms, they told me that I am one of them now which feels great. But there's a lot of work ahead to be honest, feels like we're still learning a lot about how the car works and I'm working in guetting familiar with the car.

Now that tests are done, I'm going back to the factory in UK for a lot of sim and training ahead of 2nd round of tests in Bahrein, only 1 week before the firts race there. Can't wait to be back in the car.

Today was media day ahead of the first race of the season, the Bahrein GP and I was going to do some kind of sel presentation for the F1 youtube channel.

I was talking with Mick for the first time in a long time , don't get me wrong i talked to him in Barcelona and last week tests but not as long as we wanted.

Mick has been my crush since always but i don't think he ever felt the same way about me. He is still my best friend and than we have been for over 10 years now. I was lucky, as a child I was born in Switzerland and my dad and I were neighbours with the Schumacher's. My dad, Michael's Schumacher best friends since they were kids,and he moved with him because my dad was the first performance coach of a driver in F1. Moving back to Mick's and mine relationship, it has been very good since ever, he has been very supportive of my career so far but i know he wants to spend more time with me because he os only now that i can really stay for long periods at a time at home.

I realize that although i love sims, going back to real life is weird, as i've said before because even though last season was just a test season it was real enough for me t ofeel like a driver but this one is real now, so the stakes are higher.

In this moment I'm in the Williams hospitality looking trough the windows when I see Mick and his Kevin, talking and Mick seems a bit flustered, I wonder what are they talking about.

Mick's pov

-Mate, you act a little bit patetic, every time you both are talking you guys get all red, it's very cheesy, so please ask her out for gods sake.

-Kev, she doesn't feel the same I'm sure, we have been besties since we were born and I've had girlfriens and she had got boyfiends and we never said each othe anything.

-It's because you both are blind- A voice behind me says and I turn around to see Seb coming to us.

-Not you too Seb- i say embarrased to my confident here at the track.

-Mick, I've know you both nearly since you were born and you've always been crushing each other.

-Whatever Seb, look I'm sorry but I don't think she feels the same way, ok? She's my best mate andI think she only sees me like that.

-Whatever mate you say- Kev says and he turns around and walks away leaving me and Seb alone.

Today we only ahave FP1 and FP2 so it's quite a relax day, while I'm heading to the Williams hospitality, I find Mick going to Haas.

-We are doing the track walk together, don't we? - I ask him as we head the both hospitality, one in front of each other.

-yeah like we always did-

-oks, see you then-I say while fist bumping him.

-bye! -he says too, entering his motorhome.

-Mick, you've been crushing on that girl for years now. When are you going to say something to her?- Sebastian Vettel teased him as they sat in the middle between Haas and Williams motorhomes. Mick Schumacher just shrugged his shoulders, not wanting to admit that he was indeed interested in the beautiful German driver. -I don't know, Seb. It's just...complicated.- He sighed, running a hand through his hair. -What's so complicated about it? You both like each other, I can tell.- Kevin Magnussen chimed in. -Just man up and tell her how you feel!- -Yeah, Mick. Just tell her.- Alex Albon said, coming up to stand beside them. -She's definitely into you too, I can tell.- Mick just shook his head, not sure if he was ready to take that step just yet. Maybe one day, but not right now.

-Hey mate- I say while sitting beside him at the table.

-hey girl- he says while eating his spaghetti.

-ok so...I don't know how to say this- I start and his eyes are on me now.

- you're worrying me, just say whatever it is- Alex says scared by my behaviour.

-I think I like someone- I say after a deep breath.

-who?! -Alex asks immediately.

-It's Mick- and immediatly his jaw drops.

-I knew it! Lando and George owns me and Lily a dinner, yeah!- He says jumping.

-You betted who I liked or what- i say a little bit annoyed.

-Sorry bestie but I love to have a lovely dinner with my girl for free.-He says proudly.

-You're an idiot you know that?-I tell him annoyed while going to my room.

Today was quali day and it was at 6 pm and it was only 11 am because I had data to check and meetings, I was walking to the Haas motorhome from the padock because Mick and I are going to do our private track walk as we always did.

There was a little bit of wind so my hair came to my face, when I was going to remove my hair on my place I feel Mick's hand putting a lock of hair behind my ear, brushing his hand in the process, his action shock me because he had never made skin contact with me.

-Sorry, I just wanted to help you.-He says quickly while I give him a confused smile.

-It's okay, thanks.-I reply.

It's a little bit uncomfortable because neither of us knows what to say but we quickly break the tension by smiling, as I thought we were going to continue with our track walk, but he stopped me.

- I want to talk to you about something.-He said looking at me a little bit nervous.

-Then tell me-I say not expecting what was about to come.

-I've had a crush on you since we were in F3 and i couldn't resist more without telling you- You've been always my crush aswell for a long time.

We finish our walk smiling at each other and grabbing hands, stealing touches of each other and stealing kisses. Only we in our love bubble forgetting about our stressing job.

Just when we were to part ways, he grabs my wrist and he pulls me in a passionate kiss that neither of us want to finish, just us against the world.

I hope you like this! send me whatever you want to my asks.

I would love to know something about you!!

And would you like a mention list? like for me to mention you in my fics <3 <3

Love for you <3 <3

[sonofthedunes]

Happy Dilf Luke Friday!!!🫶🏻

Recently I've been thinking how I definitely wouldn't mind him being somewhat mean or grumpy towards me as long as he makes up for it afterwards. I'm sure he'd find a good way to apologize👀👀

and a happy dilf luke friday to you as well, anon! :3

i think i see what you mean here-like he’s extremely demanding of you during your training, or he’s irritated with you if you’re too cheerful first thing in the morning, and later on he finds you as you’re taking a quiet moment and-shocking even himself-mumbles an apology. “sorry,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck. “been a while. i’m still getting used to the whole…’having human contact again’ thing.”

“apology accepted, master,” you reply, still taken aback by his honesty. “this”-motioning to the cliffs of ahch-to looming around you-“isn’t exactly my normal either.”

luke nods, settling beside you where you’re reclining in the grass. “believe it or not, i am trying.”

“to…?”

“help you feel more…comfortable? is that the word? if you really insist on learning from me, it won’t do us any good if you’re tense all the time,” he clarifies.

you see the wisdom in his words. “i’d say i’m pretty comfortable right now,” you muse. idly your fingers brush over the back of his mechanical hand. “anyone ever told you you have that effect on people? when you’re near something in me just relaxes. i’m not sure if it’s your presence in the force or…”

luke fixes you with a knowing, exasperated stare, eyebrow cocked. “and has anyone ever told you that flattery will get you nowhere, my young apprentice?”

“what do you mean, master?” you smile, a sunset blush flooding your cheeks as you subtly stress the title. luke catches your emphasis, and he doesn’t dislike it, but he ignores it for now.

“i mean,” he continues, “that if you wanted me to fuck you, all you had to do was ask.”

“……..oh.” even after all the months you’ve spent here, even after all the times you’ve slept with him (which very much hadn’t been part of the plan initially), luke can still steal the very breath from you with one sentence. quickly shedding your jacket, you press up against him; his growing excitement is evident as he places both hands on your waist.

he regards you for a moment with blue eyes unclouded by age but haunted with the past. it’s beautiful and sad all at once, like always. “oh, and one more thing,” he murmurs as he leans toward you.

despite how your speech has stuck in your throat, you manage a “hm?” as your fingers tangle in his greying hair.

“right now…i think i want to be luke. just luke.”

and it is this, more anything else, that proves to you how sorry he is. he’s never allowed you to simply refer to him by his name before. “alright, luke,” you whisper against his lips, reverent as a prayer, before they meet yours and the inadequacies of verbal language become wholly unnecessary.

[dntaewithluv]

Silent Gym Buddy | jjk

Trying out a new gym really can be a series of trial and error, but something about the cute guy who's always working out near you keeps you coming back day after day

👟 Pairing: gymmember!jungkook x reader

👟 Word Count: 1.6k

👟 Rating: 16+

👟 Genre: Strangers to lovers, idiots to lovers, fluff, some humor, gym au

👟 Warnings: Explicit language, mentions of reader feeling embarrassed/self conscious, reader is thirsty for JK, gym JK with a ponytail, brief mention of reader crying, flirting, teasing, really just a cute fluffy little gym drabble 🥹

A/N: First of all huge thanks to my possum angel @miscelunaaa for inspiring this idea and encouraging me to pursue it I appreciate you so so much Em 🥺💜 Btw I very much am this person at the gym and I just thought it would make for a cute and funny drabble idea 😂 Thank you to everyone for your patience and understanding while I've been taking time to get my life together it means so much to me 😭 I was really excited about feeling inspired and motivated to write something again so I hope you enjoy if you decide to check it out 🥰

Masterlist

Day 1

You had lied to yourself. You were, in fact, the only person in this entire fucking gym who had brought wired ear phones with them to work out. And worst of all, the really cute guy on the treadmill next to you had audibly laughed when you dug the damn tangled things out of your pocket.

Well, time to find a new gym. Cause finding new earphones instead was clearly the more ridiculous solution of the two options. Yeah, fuck that gym.

Day 4

After saying “yeah, fuck that gym” for the last three days in a row, suddenly on day four it didn’t seem nearly as bad for some reason. Maybe it was because you had seen someone else with wired earphones that day, and you had nearly cried in solidarity.

Or maybe it was because the cute guy who had laughed at you on day one lifting weights near you had given your workout a hell of a view. He was absolutely ripped. And. AND. He had a full sleeve of tattoos and a lip ring. Maybe the gym would end up working out after all…

Day 17

It had taken you a record ten, yes one zero, ten fucking minutes to untangle your earphones. A bigger uphill battle than the incline you had started using on the treadmill a few days ago. You had gotten so worked up trying to detangle them, that when you finally got to your workout you were immediately winded.

And as an extra fuck you from the universe, the cute boy had been working out behind you and seen the whole fucking thing. Actually you knew his name now, had learned it a few days before when you’d overheard his friend talking to him. Jungkook. Jungkook had unfortunately witnessed your entire sad wire tragedy. A new gym was starting to look real tempting again.

Day 33

You were still going to the gym. You were still going to the same gym. And so was Jungkook. Every single day, there he was. Same time as you. Always alternating between all the different areas of the gym. Yesterday he had come in with his long dark hair pulled into a ponytail to do some boxing, and you had come close to face planting directly onto the treadmill track.

He always seemed so powerful when he was working out. He just had this super intense and aggressive energy about him. But then you would catch him talking with his friend, you had learned his name was Jin, and he would seem like just the sweetest and softest man.

You always heard his laugh, even with your outdated wired monstrosities blaring in your ears at full volume. It was the kind of laugh that took over his entire body. His face would scrunch up adorably, his little bunny smile poking through. The gym really had done you wonders.

Day 65

You had learned something new today. A very vital piece of information for future use. You could never, ever, accidentally grab the heart rate detector when Jungkook was on the treadmill next to yours. Because the number would indicate that the only place you should’ve been running to was the nearest hospital.

The only thing that had saved you was Jungkook choosing to drink from his water at that exact moment. Even then, you hadn’t been completely saved though. He had definitely caught the tail end of you gawking at him as he did the most basic thing on earth, drinking fucking water. But in your defense, he was always drinking water completely drenched in sweat with his throat bobbing in the most distracting way.

Honestly, it was a wonder you ever ended up being able to work out at all. With a literal long haired demon always in your immediate view. Who always seemed like a total and complete sweetheart the moment he stopped exercising.

It wasn’t like you even really had the option to try and avoid him because he was just always there. Running. Or boxing. Or lifting weights. Or making pull ups look like the easiest fucking thing in the world. Stupid Jungkook. Stupid hot Jungkook.

Day 92

Today your earphones had gone in the trash as soon as you had finished your workout. Your body hadn’t quite been feeling up to your usual workout, so you had fumbled for a split second. But that split second had been long enough for your hand to catch on the wire and yank the whole thing out, making your music readily available for anyone in the near vicinity to be able to hear.

It had been an all around bad day, and you’d had to blink back tears as you tossed your earphones in the gym trash on your way out. You would start saving up for a new pair of headphones starting that day.

For the first time, Jungkook hadn’t been there. And you hadn’t been able to decide if you were happy or sad about that. The two of you had never even spoken a word to each other, but sometimes he would give you such a cute little smile, and something about it always just felt so comforting to you.

Maybe he would have given you one of those rare smiles if he had been there today. You honestly could’ve really used it. Those big, brown, doe eyes and bunny smile just always made you feel better. Always.

Day 100

Something had been waiting for you when you arrived at your usual treadmill. It was a small box that had been delicately wrapped and adorned with a bow on top, as well as a little card that read:

From your (hopefully not so silent in the future) gym buddy (:

It was a good thing you hadn’t started your work out yet because your heart was fucking pouding, and that treadmill heart rate indicator was the biggest snitch. You carefully pulled back the pretty paper, and let out an audible gasp. It was a brand new pair of wireless earphones. This was about to be the second time this week that you had cried in the gym.

“I know you were really attached to your trusty wires, but I promise, these are a lot safer.”

Your head snapped up to find a ponytailed Jungkook leaning over the front of your treadmill with his head resting against his hands.

“Safer?”

It was impossible to miss the way his cheeks tinged pink, “Yeah, uh, Jin. He told me you slipped the other day and got tangled in them and almost got really hurt. So, I thought this would be a better and safer option”

You hadn’t even noticed Jin in the gym that particular day, you had been so focused on Jungkook’s absence. Had Jin also seen you almost cry in front of a random gym trash can?

“He also said that you haven’t had earphones since then. That you’ve just been working out to the,” he gestured around him vaguely, “lovely gym ambience.”

You laughed at that, and Jungkook’s cute little bunny teeth instantly made an appearance.

“I was working on saving up for a better pair.” you admitted quietly.

Jungkook picked his head up, arms still hanging over your machine.

“Well, now you don’t have to. Right?” he queried, flashing you a cheeky little wink at the end.

His gift had touched you more than he would ever know. Especially knowing that he had paid that much attention to you over the last three plus months. Maybe as much as you’d been paying attention to him.

“Right.” you agreed, a smile starting to take over your features.

Jungkook grinned back at you.

“This is really sweet, thank you so much.” you added, holding the small box close to your chest.

His face scrunched up in that way you absolutely adored, “Yeah, you’re welcome. I hope they make your workouts go a little smoother.”

“Well, I won’t have to spend a ridiculous amount of time detangling them, so that already is a huuuuuge step up.”

Jungkook chuckled, and you realized it was your favorite part of the “lovely gym ambience”.

“Just make sure you don’t accidentally let them go through the wash…it does not end well.”

He sounded like he was speaking from experience.

You found it hard to stifle your giggles, “Noted. Thanks.”

Jungkook suddenly nervously rubbed the back of his neck.

“So, uh, I know it took us like a hundred days to officially meet and talk to each other. But would you ever, maybe, I don’t know, want to see each other? Like not at the gym?”

Ooh that heart rate detector would have been having a fucking field day right now.

“Not at the gym? You mean, like a-”

“Like a date, yeah.” he finished for you, his face flushing noticeably deeper.

You were pretty sure your own blush was matching his at this point.

“Well, what do you like to do for fun?”

“Uh, go to the gym.” he laughed, “You?”

“Same, actually.”

God, you were both so fucking awkward. Match made in heaven maybe.

“See! We already have so much in common.” Jungkook remarked, his eyes bright with excitement.

You instantly started giggling. He joined in with you, his body bending over your treadmill once again.

“You know, we’ve technically already had like a hundred indirect, silent dates. Maybe for our one hundred and oneth we can actually have a conversation.” he added as he playfully raised an eyebrow at you.

You had just started to open your mouth to respond, when panic suddenly took over his face, “Oh fuck, I’m Jungkook, by the way.”

More giggles from you.

“Y/N. It's nice to meet you, Jungkook. Hey, since it’s gonna be like our one hundred and oneth date, should I bring my mom to meet you?”

You couldn’t resist joining in on the teasing.

“Of course! I’ve been dying to meet her.”

Your shared, loud, obnoxious laughter echoed around you.

[shadyruinskryptonite]

Titan Bending Chapter 23

Warning: Violence consistent with cannon, NSFW so MDNI, language, major character death (both consistent with canon of both AOT and ATLA as well as diverging from canon), so much trauma literally everyone is so traumatized, very much slow burn, a little enemies to lovers, SO MUCH ANGST, hurt/comfort, hurt and delayed comfort, AFAB reader

Anything in bold is considered to be a different language and the context will specify what that language may be.

Chapter Warnings: Maybe just a tense familial relationship?

WC: 3102

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Masterlist

Tags: @mochminnie @sseleniaa @naruwitch

AN: I'm doing two chapters this week to try to make up for the fact that I've been so bad at posting in a timely fashion lately

Bobbing and weaving through the markets of the inner ring, I’m struggling to keep track of where everyone is while following Katara and Toph to the stall we need. She’s got a specific vendor in mind for us to all buy Earth Kingdom clothes for tonight’s dinner. 

Grabbing Sasha’s hand and physically dragging her away from the fifth food cart she’s tried to stop at, I scold her. “We just ate breakfast! You can get something else to eat as soon as we’re done here!”

To be fair to Sasha, she’s not the only one that keeps getting distracted and trying to stop. In fact, everyone has been pulled away at one point or another in our journey.

Keep your patience, Y/n. This is all so new to them. They’re just excited by everything they’re seeing. Just be patient with them. Patience, patience…

“Here!” Katara yells.

Thank fuck I was about to kill the next one to go rogue.

None of us really knew what to choose given that the choice was between very similar robes and dresses, so the vendor gave us each what she thought would suit us the best. Now that we’ve got the only items we really needed, I set them loose on the market. Zuko had given everyone money since he has a pretty much endless supply of the stuff.

“Be back here at the center in one hour or so help me god I’ll end you right here in the market,” I say with my patience still clearly very thin. 

No sooner had I finished my statement than everyone had disbursed. Even Katara and Toph seemed to disappear, giving me a chance to wander around on my own. I glance at stalls here and there, but nothing really seems to catch my eye. Something does catch my ear, though. In the distance, I can hear what sounds like live music playing songs that sound faintly familiar. Heading towards the music, the songs get clearer and I recognize them as folk songs from all around the Earth Kingdom. A small group is gathered around what looks to be a small stage and a few people are dancing around. 

I stand there through the end of a song before the band launches directly into their next song, and I immediately recognize it. I dance along, knowing the dance that accompanies this song, but my moves are subdued as I’m still standing in the crowd. That is, until a man that I’ve never met before comes up to me and wordlessly reaches out his hand. I set my bag with my new dress down and join him at the center of the circle, dancing and twirling to the folksong. I can’t stop myself from giggling as I spin a bit. As the song comes to a close, I realize that a larger group has formed around us and we were at that point the only people dancing. I blush as I try to quickly grab my things and re-assimilate into the crowd.

As I sink towards the back row, I hear a familiar voice. “Who knew you could dance like that!” Hange calls.

I roll my eyes playfully as the two of us start to head back towards the meet-up point. Motioning towards her bag, I ask, “Did you get anything?”

“Oh, no. I was there listening to the music the entire time. You can learn a lot about a place by their music! Speaking of, how did you know that dance? Did you know the other songs and dances too?”

Always so curious.

I smile at her questions. “I learned the music and dance at bars throughout the time I lived in the Earth Kingdom. And I’m not sure about all of the other songs, I only heard a couple.”

“The music was nice, I can’t really put my finger on it, but there was a similar sound throughout all of the songs,” she mentions.

“That makes sense, a lot of the cultures in Western and Central Earth Kingdom use the same instruments,” I explain.

By this point we’re back at the center of the market and I can see our various kids milling about. Sasha, Jean, and Connie are the first to head to the meeting point and they all have some unidentified kind of food on their faces.

“Money well spent, I take it?” I ask. They merely nod lethargically at me, clearly having eaten themselves near a coma.

Next to approach are Mikasa, Eren, and Armin. Excitedly, they pull out little figurines. Each of them has an identical figure, and each figure is of the three of them. “They were made with earth bending right in front of us!” Armin can hardly contain himself.

Looking over the figures, I nod in approval. “Those are really cool!”

Last to come back is Levi, and I’m surprised when he approaches with a bag in one hand and Katara and Toph at his side.

My eyebrows shoot up. I don’t know why, but I didn’t expect him to be the trinket type.

As soon as we have everyone, we start heading back to the tea shop to get ready for the dinner. On the way, I fall back a little bit to inquire about what Levi found.

“I didn’t think you’d be one for souvenirs,” I state plainly.

“I got tea,” he answers in kind.

Duh. Of course he did. I can’t believe I didn’t even think of that.

“Oh that makes sense. What kind of tea?” I ask.

“I’m not exactly sure, Katara helped me choose exactly what Iroh gave us last night.”

“Oh, nice! I might have to sneak away later and get some for myself, too. There’s just nothing that can replicate his tea,” I say almost longingly.

Faintly, I hear Levi “tsk” next to me. We head inside and all begin getting ready. Unfortunately, Iroh’s house connecting to the tea shop only has one bathroom so showering was difficult. We had to set a tight schedule to get everyone in and out.

I went first, both because I’m quick but also because I knew I’d have to help everyone else get ready as well as myself. As soon as I was out I slipped into my new dress, admiring the silky fabric. It’s a pale green with a high empire waist and a darker green sash along the waistline. Once I finished admiring the garment and while my hair was still a little wet, I quickly did the braids of my typical water tribe hairstyle without any of the added beads. Being an Earth Kingdom event, I thought that was for the best. 

After I was done, Katara approached me, with her hair completely down.

“Hey Y/n?” she asks timidly.

“What’s up Katara?”

“Can you braid my hair?”

“Yeah, of course!” I say enthusiastically.

She sits down in front of me and hands me her brush and, her voice no more than a whisper, asks, “Can you sing that one song while you do it?”

I smile and squeeze her shoulder. “Of course,” I say again, this time much more understanding.

I begin singing the song that my mother would always sing when she did my hair. I braid slowly, pacing myself so I finish braiding at the same time as the song ends. Lost in what I was doing, I didn’t realize how quiet the entire room had become.

“There you go!” I kiss the top of her head and she turns to engulf me in a hug. 

When she steps away, I finally realize that everyone is looking at me.

Suddenly self conscious, I ask defensively, “What?! What are you all staring at me for?”

“We just, we didn’t know you could sing like that,” Jean stutters a little.

“Oh. Yeah. I grew up singing. So did Katara and Sokka,” I state, trying not to blush. 

Everyone continues to look at me, so I quickly change the subject. “Hange! How about I do your hair too? I can do everyone’s hair that wants me to.”

Hange quickly bounces over and sits where Katara was. I do a simple yet elegant look that frames her face with two small braids, and I continue doing all of the girls’ hair for the next hour. Even Toph had me do a little something with her hair and Jean, Armin, and Eren had me brush through their hair and style it. 

By the time I finished up, everyone was dressed and ready to go and it was just about time to head over. Glancing at everyone, I’m struck by the beauty of the moment; my new friends, dressed in traditional Earth Kingdom clothes, in a place that they couldn’t even fathom existing just half a year ago. I sip at a cup of tea that Iroh had handed me a few minutes earlier as I ponder just how much had changed in such a short time.

I was so lost in my thoughts, that I didn’t realize when everyone was starting to head out. Suddenly, Levi appeared next to me. 

“You glued to the floor or something?” He has his normal steady affect, but I can tell that there’s a hint of a joke underlaying his question.

I jump a little at his approach, but I quickly finish the rest of my tea and smile at him. “Sorry about that.”

“What’s got you so quiet?” He asks, almost sounding a little concerned to me.

We walk quickly to try to catch up with the rest of the group. “Oh, nothing really.” I try to leave it at this, but his lack of response spurs me to continue. “I was just thinking about how quickly everything in life has changed. Six months ago I thought I was here, in Ba Sing Se. You all didn’t know any of this existed. And now, here you are dressed like Earth Kingdom Aristocrats going to a fancy dinner at the Earth Kingdom palace. It’s surreal for me so it HAS to be surreal for you.”

I notice he scoffs when I imply that he looks like an aristocrat, but he ultimately doesn’t comment on that. We’re pretty much caught up with the others at this point and we’re quickly approaching the front gates of the palace. He ends the conversation by almost timidly saying, “It’s definitely been…a lot to take in.”

I’ll have to try to probe more about that later.

We’re ushered in and led to assigned seats, but there is plenty of time to mill about before the dinner is actually served. My assigned seat is at the front of the room with the Gaang, so I was separated from my new friends who were all located at a table together towards the back of the room. Jean offers me his seat while we wait for the festivities to begin and I happily accept. 

Something that didn’t dawn on me, though, is that the Gaang weren’t the only people to help end the war. I don’t know why this thought didn’t occur to me given that Iroh was joining us. But, because I hadn’t really thought about it, a voice that is strong yet frayed with age caught me off guard.

“Y/n. It’s nice to see you,” Pakku says looking particularly shameful. 

My expression immediately hardens when I see who it is that’s speaking. Restraining myself, I grit out a polite, “Pakku, likewise.”

Sensing the tension, the Scouts all quiet themselves and stare at this man. He’s undeterred, though.

“How have you been? The last time I saw you was on the day of the comet.”

“Good,” I respond curtly. “And yourself?”

He lets out an almost imperciptable sigh. “I’ve been good. Spent a lot of time in the Southern Watertribe, actually. I’ve…I’ve reconnected with your grandmother.”

I clench my jaw so hard that I’m afraid my teeth might break. “That’s nice to hear.”

By the grace of the spirits, King Kuei calls everyone to their seats, forcing an end to this dreadful conversation. I can tell by the looks on my friends’ faces though that I will need to explain that a bit more later.

I take my seat and there’s a clattering of chairs as the rest of the guests do the same.

King Kuei addresses everyone when he’s sure that the room is properly seated. “Thank you all for being here to celebrate another year of distance between us and the despicable war. This is quite a special occasion, as this is the first time since the comet that everyone responsible for ending the war has been together in one place. But I won’t keep you from your meals any longer. I’ll speak with everyone again after dessert so we can properly recognize the heroes that sit before us. Enjoy, everyone!”

With that, servers in white gloves come whooshing by, delivering appetizers of ginger-infused pea tendril and hibiscus-root salad as well as spicy pickled kelp. I have to consciously remind myself not to eat like this is my first meal in years. That struggle gets even harder when the main course of braised turtle duck and crab urchin stir-fry is served. I try to glance at my friends to see if Sasha - or any of them, for that matter - is acting even moderately sophisticated, but they’re too far for me to see. Feeling as though I might explode by the end of the main course, dessert comes out with an assortment of miniature pies, cakes, and egg custard tartes. It was truly the best meal I could ever remember having.

As I take my last bite, King Kuei stands and taps his knife against his glass to get everyone’s attention. “I hope you all enjoyed the meal. As promised, I would like to take the time to recognize the people that made a gathering such as this one possible by putting an end to the war. Starting to my left,” he turns and gestures to the members of the White Lotus, “Please stand as I say your name. We have Earth Bending Master King Bumi of Omashu, Swords Master Piandao of the Fire Nation, Fire Bending Master Jeong Jeong of the Fire Nation, Water Bending Master Pakku of the Northern Watertribe, and Fire Bending Master and Grand Lotus Iroh. These gentlemen and other members of the White Lotus are responsible for the liberation of Ba Sing Se.” The room erupts in applause.

Looking directly at them, King Kuei smiles and speaks genuinely. “Thank you, gentlemen. For everything you’ve done for the Earth Kingdom, the world, but also for my city.” They sit down and King Kuei turns to look at my side of the table. “Now, please stand Swords Master Sokka from the Souther Watertribe, leader of the Kyoshi Warriors Suki from Kyoshi Island, and Earth Bending Master Toph Beifong from Gaoling. As just children, these three single-handedly eliminated the entire fleet of Fire Nation airships, sparing the country from being incinerated by a rain of fire.” Another rousing round of applause.

Kuei nods at them and they take their seats again. “Please stand Firelord Zuko, Water Bending Master Katara of the Southern Watertribe, and Water Bending Master y/n of the Northern Watertribe. Also mere children at the time, these three had the task of fighting Princess Azula to prevent her from taking the throne.” During the applause, I glance at the table where my friends are sitting and I’m overcome by a warm and fuzzy feeling when I see they’re holding themselves back from cheering like they’re at a sporting event.

“And finally, I ask for Avatar Aang to please stand and be recognized for valiantly taking on Firelord Ozai and for your continued commitment to rebuilding the world.”

As Aang stands, the applause start out normally but soon break into a standing ovation. As I glance over at Aang, I can see that he’s blushing. When the applause dies down and people return to their seats, Aang remains standing to say a few words.

“Thank you King Kuei both for your kind words but also for this delicious meal. I can say earnestly, though, that I would not have been able to do it if it weren’t for the people sitting up here with me tonight.” He turns and smiles at us, which causes me to beam at him with pride. Turning back to the audience, he continues, “But I also want to thank all of you for your assistance. Going from a war longer than most of our lifespans to a time of peace is not an easy transition, but any efforts I have made wouldn’t have been possible without a world full of people searching for the same outcome. Someone that has been instrumental in forging this new path is my dear friend, Firelord Zuko, whom I know would also like to say a few words.”

Zuko stands up and hugs Aang. As Zuko begins to speak, it strikes me how much they’ve all grown into their rolls as world leaders.

They have really risen to the occasion despite the challenges they’ve faced. I couldn’t be more proud but…this whole charade really isn’t for me.

I tune back in when I hear Zuko talking about the upcoming celebration. “...next week at this time, I hope to see you all in attendance. It will be the first peaceful international gathering in the Fire Nation since before the war. There will be a meal, performances, and dancing and we all will be there.” Zuko glances at me out of the corner of his eye and smirks. “Even y/n, who tends to shy away from the limelight of such events.” This elicits a polite chuckle from the crowd, all blissfully unaware of the depth and reason for this statement. “Thank you, again, for accepting me as Firelord and embracing the new path I’m trying to guide my country in as a member of the international community.”

With another round of applause the dinner is adjourned and everyone begins to file out. I come up to Aang to hug him and I pat Zuko on the shoulder so I don’t give him any ideas. “You two really have done a great job at becoming world leaders. I’m very proud of you.”

The Scouts have approached the head table now and I move to leave with them, but Aang stops me. “Where do you thing you’re going?”

I turn to see a mischievous look on his face, my own plastered with confusion. He continues, “We have a spirit world to visit!”

[pyritewitch]

I Expect You To Die (ieytd)

Headcannons for the 1st Game

I've been obsessed with this series for years and my obsession has finally boiled over! These are just my headcannons for the 1st game, at a later point I will probably make a separate post concerning the other 2 games. Here we go!

So lets start with the agent, as their personality sort of drives their relationships with others. This agent has a bit of a chip on their shoulders. Absolutely was a troubled teen and not much better as an adult. A bit of an alcoholic, smoker, and arsonist, they were really just 1 decision away from being a Zoraxis Agent, but the agency had better benefits, plus they wanted to prove something to themselves.

The agent, for me, is the one that chooses more of the meaner/ speedrunner options. For example, instead of pretending to wash the windows, as soon as they are alerted to the enemy agent, they fire on site.

The agent is a talented spy and combatant, but their lack of cooperation and destructive tendencies has had them bunt heads with their past handlers. As such, they have gone through many handlers. The agent was probably about to quit/ be fired if they hadn't met Reggie.

Seeing that Reginald has been with the agency for years and has some connections with the higher up, like the director, him becoming the agent's handler was probably more of a re-training exercise. Essentially more about teaching the agent about the importance of working with their handlers and blah blah.

The agent is simply content to ignore him at 1st, treat him as white noise. But unlike his last like 10 or so handlers, Reginald doesn't really try to command them like a video character. Sure, he comments on their destructive actions ("Your tendency to light things ablaze, agent, concerns me.") but doesn't demand they clean up their mess it or even tell them to stop. He also actually mentions stuff that the agent deems important, like enemy agents ("Enemy agent spotted 2 'o clock, Agent! I suggest you take immediate action before he closes in!") As smug as the handler can be sometimes, he's pretty easy-going as a supervisor.

As for Reginald's thoughts on the agent, well, he can kinda understand why they might b a bit difficult to work with. The agent does like to cause trouble and unneeded destruction, but it has never intervered with the mission (well, not like in any meaningful way). He also notices that the agent is the most adapt to using their telekinesis chip. So thw issue doesnt come from a lack of skill. After interviewing some of the agent's old handlers, Reggie brings it up to the director that they may need to actually retrain the handlers instead. Some of them seem to not understand their proper role. That it's to b an assistant, not a commander.

Reginald also starts looking into the cases the agent has been working on and sees that these missions shouldn't b done solo. The fact that the agent was able to complete them greatly impresses him. Feeling a sense of responsibility now, as the agent hadn't really been with a great handler and had been forced to take on missions they shouldnt have, he decides to become the agent's permanent handler for now.

The two soon find themselves getting along really well, especially when the agent learns that Reginald knows sign language (yes I go by the agent is mute theory) and start even joking around with each other. Reginald proves to be a good influence to them too as the agent gives up smoking (drinking and burning not so much, but in better moderation). Reginald does get asked every once in while when he will stop being the agent's handler (as like I said earlier he probably has a higher admin duty and is really only suppose to be a handler for agents every once in awhile and not that very long either) but never really confirms a date and no one else is really excited to take on the pyro, so it continues like this.

Until Operation: Death Engine happens. Reginald is honestly surprised and pissed that the agency is sending them on this mission with no backup and deep into enemy territory. The agent is honestly touched as no one had ever really gotten mad for their sake. (Not that they'd ever admit it) but promises that they'd make it back easily.

Reginald is devastated when he hears about the explosion and subsequent crash of the space station. While recon takes place, Reginald becomes withdrawn, talking little and putting off work. Blaming himself for not doing enough and even at times admonishing himself for caring too deeply; for forgetting the number 1 rule: "Don't get Attached"

When the agent does return, relatively unharmed, Reginald just sends a congratulatory email and puts in the paperwork to move the agent to a different handler. Reginald, for a time, refuses any handler work, instead burying himself in admin duties. Though a couple weeks later, he is brought into a meeting where the higher-ups beg him to talk to the agent. The agency wants to use them for a plan, but the agent, like always, is uncooperative.

Reginald relents but says he'll just meet with them once. It's awkward when they meet up again. The agent is clearly tense, but overall, they are obediently listening to Reginald. It's only when Reginald is about to leave that the agent demands to know what is his problem. Why did he pretty much abandon them? Was it something they did?

Seeing his child the agent so upset. They both end up hashing it out and making up for now. Though there are some unresolved issues that may or not get mentioned.

I spent way to much time with this and it's late. Hope u guys enjoyed it!