#once again it’s not that i’m against a hard launch i just think that everyone who still cares about them and their content already knows

[sluttycinderella]

y’all do get that if dan and phil hard launch it will break the internet right? like people who haven’t thought about dnp since 2016 and literally everyone else with an online presence will know. suddenly there will be so many new eyes on our cute little community that we’ve managed to build from the ashes of the early phandom. it’ll be worldwide news that those guys from youtube who “weird girls” always shipped were actually together the whole time. it’ll be absolute chaos. it’s not that i don’t want them to hard launch if that’s genuinely what they want to do, i’m just afraid that it’ll send shockwaves through the entire internet that’ll shatter the nice little thing we’ve got going on here. i for one don’t want to be talking to an acquaintance in class next semester and hear them say “did you hear that dan and phil from youtube are together? that’s crazy! i never watched them ‘cause their fans were always so weird. i didn’t even know they were gay. i guess their fans bullied them out of the closet.” and then have to pretend to be normal.

[bougiebutchbinch]

That Trans!A-Train Concept That's Been Haunting Me, feat. a tiny bit of Deeptrain

Rating: M

TW: transphobia, queerphobia, the threat of outing, and A-Train using 'tr*nny' self-deprecatingly. No one actually gets outed, but the fear is real. Also, Homelander is a creep. I love him, but poor A-Train does not.

###

“Deep. Blow A-Train.”

The world sharpens into focus. Reggie had been zoning, as is his habit when Homelander starts spouting shit and everyone dislocates their damn jaws to be first to agree with him. Now though, the meeting room at the top of Vought tower is inescapable – as is the weight of Homelander’s stare. That’s settled on Deep, for now, but Reggie still tenses.

No way did he hear that right. Right?

“What?” asks Deep.

Homelander’s expression doesn’t change. “Did I stutter? A-Train, stand up.”

Fuck. Fuck.

Reggie refuses to let his hands shake as he pushes back his chair, though his jaw is tensed so tight a muscle ticks in his neck. Homelander’s dead-eyed gaze remains glued to Deep, as he orders him onto his knees. But Reggie knows that this isn’t a lesson (a ritual humiliation? A sadistic game?) designed for one.

The fucker knows. He knows I sold out his Nazi bitch. He knows I’m fucking sick of eating Vought’s shit. He knows fucking everything…

Thoughts race through his head, fast as he can run. His heart – still fucking weird, to think of the hunk of muscle in his chest as his – pounds so hard he’s half-afraid of going into cardiac arrest again.

Hell, that might be a blessing. It’d get him out of this.

Deep looks up at Reggie with big spooked eyes. A silent communion passes between them. The only choice being exercised here is Homelander’s. They don’t get a say. They’re just… puppets. Fucking hand-puppets, with Homelander’s fists lodged wrist-deep.

“Sexuality’s just a spectrum,” mumbles Deep, pinching Reggie’s zipper. “Right, bro?”

Reggie rolls his eyes to the ceiling and lets them linger there. Behind his zipper, he’s dry and clenched and fucking terrified. On the outside though? Chill as a New York winter.

He has to be. The only thing worse than being publicly outed, like Maeve, is showing that you give a fuck. If you give a fuck, they can hurt you. Reggie learnt a long time ago that it’s safer to never give anyone that kind of power over you.

Down goes the zipper. Reggie doesn’t flinch at the rasp, but only because he’s doing his utmost to mentally evacuate his body, blowing out like he's emptying himself, watching from a distance, preparing for the inevitable –

“Get the fuck up,” snaps Homelander. He looks disgusted. Like he didn't just order them into these positions, on the implicit threat of burny, lasery death.

Deep springs away, relief shining bright on his dumb-bitch face. But he frowns when he notices Reggie’s hands (stupid fucking hands) wobbling too much to pull up the zipper. Doesn’t mention it though.

Thank fuck. Reggie hates the guy, not least because he’s thick as a post-pepperoni-meatfeast shit, but at least he has the sense to keep his mouth shut. It’s prey instinct, or something. The two of them cower like fluffy li’l bunnies under the piercing stare of an eagle, hoping that if they’re small enough and quiet enough, he’ll fly on by.

Reggie adjusts his packer in his boxers. He finally wrestles up his fly, and scurries back to his seat. Deep follows him. As Homelander launches into a diatribe against brown-nosing, Deep leans over.

“I wouldn’t have actually done it,” he whispers. Reggie just shakes his head and goes back to staring at nothing at all.

He’s first to leave once they're dismissed. It’s tempting to amp up the super-speed and sprint to his apartment, but caution drags teeth along the back of his neck.

Don’t show him that he got to you. Don’t show it. Don’t…

Homelander knows. That’s the worst part. He'd known ever since A-Train’s debut, back when he was all bright-eyed and shiny and unruined by the world. Like all of them start out. During Reggie's first week at the tower, the jackass cornered him in an elevator. He loomed over him, hands clasped behind his back, and breathed.

“My, oh my,” he said, head cocked to one side. Curious, almost. Like a scientist dissecting a bug. “Aren’t you excited. All this fame and power really does it for you, hm?”

Reggie hadn’t understood what he was saying. Yeah, he was revved. Sue him, he’d just come from his biggest press conference yet – fucking killed it, for the record. He’d made a save a few minutes beforehand (carefully staged, rehearsed, and captured from the optimal angles), and swaggered onstage to an eruption of applause so loud it was like Mt Saint Helens had gone for round two.

“Yeah, bossman,” he’d said, flashing a grin. “Happy to be here, I guess?”

“I’ll say. You're practically dripping.”

Reggie’s smile had frozen on his face. “Um. What?”

Homelander settled back on his heels, smiling blandly at the mirrored inside of the elevator doors. “Your cunt. It’s wet. I can smell it.”

Reggie felt like he’d grown twenty inches since strutting off stage. With those words, that extra height crumbled. Everything slowed down, like when he blurred into hyperspeed. It was always a strange feeling. Not like he’d sped up, but like the rest of the world had simply… stopped.

Homelander’s voice though? That just kept on going.

“Oh, don’t worry. I’m not going to tell. Why would I? It’d hardly be good for our viewings if one of us was revealed to be some sort of degenerate…” A dismissive shrug. “Whatever-you-are. Just take this as a reminder, hm? My team can enjoy whatever scratches their itches, but I do insist upon discretion.”

The elevator pinged, doors reeling open. Homelander winked – fucking winked – and strode out, leaving Reggie battling the urge to run and run and run, until Vought tower was lost to New York’s bustling skyline.

Eight years on T at that point – he’d started before he and Nate put their all into this superhero shit. Before he and his big brother took apart plain ol’ Reggie Franklin and built A-Train in his place. And for what?

Homelander sussed him with a fucking sniff.

He hasn’t brought it up since. Reggie has done his utmost not to give him a reason to.

It sickens him to think about. There’d be a media circus, like with poor fucking Maeve. Debates too, where he’d have to defend his continued presence in the Seven to their shareholders (are trans guys as marketable as lesbians?)

No one can be normal about a dude with a cunt. Ridiculous, really. For Reggie, it’s as normal as breathing.

He wants to be A-Train, fastest in the world. Not A-Train, fastest in the world, and he’s a tranny; oh my god, did you know? Let’s all sit around on a late-night chat show and discuss what’s in his pants and whether he’s a bad example for the children.

By the time he gets to his room (at normal, if slightly elevated walking speed, thank you very much) the stupid shake’s back in his hands. Reggie fumbles out his phone as soon as the door shuts. Opening his chat with Nate still happens on muscle memory, though Nate hasn’t replied to his messages in over a month.

Reggie types out a dozen versions of ‘I know you hate me and I know I deserve it and I know I fucked up and I keep fucking up, but please can I come over because I need a fucking hug from my brother’ before giving up. He backspaces the last half-formatted string of text and throws the phone on the bed, then follows it, flopping his face down in the pillows.

He hates the racist pig, but he can’t deny Bluehawk’s heart is doing a decent job. Better than his old one would’ve. He's still in tachy, no doubt about it, but there’s no warning clench in his back and down his left arm, no yawning sinkhole of dread.

He survived. Nothing happened. Nobody knows his secret but Homelander – unless he’s forgotten, which Reggie wouldn’t put past him. A-Train’s so far beneath his notice he’s practically an ant.

He doesn’t need coddling. He doesn’t need Nate. He doesn’t need anyone.

He focuses on the breathing exercises Popclaw used to make him do, until thoughts of Popclaw well up behind his eyes, along with every other fucking thing that’s gone wrong in his life. Or rather, everything he’s done wrong. Killing Campbell’s girl. Snitching on Supersonic. Not walking away from Vought while Nathan could still use his fucking legs…

Suffice to say, by the time the thump sounds at his door, Reggie is way redder around the eyes than anyone is allowed to see but the miserable face in the mirror. He unpeels himself from his damp pillow, dragging on his sunglasses.

“Fuck off!” he yells, in vague hope that’ll work. No such luck.

“Uh,” comes Deep’s low, nervous voice from the other side of the door. “Knock knock? We good, bro?”

“What part of fuck off sounds good to you?” But he’s already dragging himself to the door. Deep might be a dipshit. Might be a goddamn serial rapist with a fetish for sea creatures – but right now he’s also the closest thing to a friend Reggie’s got.

And – fuck. If that ain’t an indictment of the sorry state of the world…

Deep strolls in like he owns the place, thumbs tucked in his waistband. Reggie spent enough time studying the boys at the park, mirroring their swagger, to recognize how he’s bigging himself up.

“So,” he says, all gruff. He’s made his voice deeper, too. “That was fucking crazy, yeah?”

“Just the usual bullshit,” says Reggie, leaning against the wall, arms crossed. “Homelander’s screwing with us. S’how he gets his kicks.”

“Yeah.” Deep scratches the back of his head. “But you seemed… I dunno. Rattled?”

Why does he have to be a dumbass until it inconveniences Reggie most? “What’s weirder – to be freaked out by him ordering us to do that shit, or to just get on your knees?”

Deep shrinks back, eyes all big like Reggie kicked his pet lobster. Power rushes through Reggie: the sharp-tasting satisfaction of being able to hurt someone just with his words. It feels staler than it used to.

“Hey, I didn’t wanna get lasered. I’m not a queer or anything, yeah?”

“No shit,” drawls Reggie. They have different words for the sort of freak Deep is. Like fish-fucker. And pretty sure that’s a felony. “Is that all?”

Deep shrugs. “Just wanted to make sure we’re good, bro.”

I’m not your bro. But he’s the closest Reggie has to a brother too, since Nate decided he wasn't worth his spit. Even though he hates Deep's gill-slit guts and doesn’t trust him an inch.

“Yeah,” he says, sidling closer. Budging his shoulder against Deep so their biceps rest together, just for a moment, before pulling away. “We’re good. We were just playing along so we didn’t get lasered. Like you said. Now fuck off back to your aquarium.”

Deep flips him double-birds as he leaves, but his usual gormless grin is back on his face. Reggie does his best to match it.

Once Deep’s gone, he returns to his phone, tapping out a quick message to Nate and hitting send before he can wuss out.

Stay safe. I’m sorry.

That echoes all the other sorries that end his other messages, reeling up and up the one-sided text chain into infinity.

Funny, how Reggie never used to utter apologies, if he could help it – and certainly didn’t mean them, if he did. Nowadays, it feels like he can’t repeat them enough.

He selects another contact, one recently added, disguised with a picture of a massive pair of tits. This is both to dodge suspicion, should any of the Intel snoops peek at his phone, and because… well, what sorta whack-ass name is Mother’s Milk, anyway?

Just got out of a meeting, he sends. He absorbed enough of Homelander’s delusional rambling to pass on, even if it provides the Boys with no further information than ‘after executing anyone who dared stand up to him, Homelander’s suddenly decided he’s sick of sycophancy’. Still, his thumbs hover over the keys a full minute before he commits to the next words – we should talk.  

[ladylucksrogue]

Hi! Could I pretty please ask for Rexsoka with 32 - A kiss while someone watches!

Thank you for this one!

Set post order 66, at some point while they are on the run...

Ahsoka paused at the stand, her eyes scanning the items on display. They needed clothing, and this stall seemed promising. She reached out to touch a cloak, inspecting the fabric and weave. The color reminded her of the 501st blue on Rex’s armor. She wondered if it might be too obvious a choice. Before she could decide, a voice interrupted her thoughts.

“That color would go great with your eyes,” a human man said, stepping closer. Ahsoka blinked, pulled from her reverie. The man might have been handsome once, but now he had the weary look common on the Outer Rim. His hair, streaked with gray and a bit greasy, hung to his shoulders, and his smile made her uneasy. Something about him set off her instincts.

She took a step back almost unconsciously, offering a polite smile. “Oh, it’s not for me,” she said.

“A pretty girl like you should treat herself,” he pushed, launching into a sales pitch. He began showing her various items, most of which Ahsoka had no interest in, and many far beyond her budget.

She tried to steer the conversation toward what she was actually looking for, but he paid her no attention.

“Don’t see many Togruta out here. What brings you to these parts?” he asked, moving closer again. The scent of stale sweat mixed with cheap cologne made her resist the urge to wrinkle her nose.

“Oh, this and that,” she said vaguely. What was she supposed to say?  She was on the run?  Not that he was even interested in her words, especially when he was eyeing her with all the subtlety of a gundark sizing up its prey.

“Look, thanks, but I’m going to look elsewhere. Have a nice day,” she said, forcing a strained smile. She turned to leave, but the vendor’s hand closed around her wrist. Her first instinct was to use a close combat move that probably wasn’t appropriate to use on a civilian, but she restrained herself. Still, as she tried to pull away, the urge grew stronger.

Just then, she felt the warmth of a familiar presence seconds before an arm wrapped around her shoulders from behind, a very familiar arm.

“Sorry I’m late,” Rex said, his voice low beside her montral as he moved in front of her, his lips brushing hers. Ahsoka almost flinched in surprise but quickly understood what Rex was doing. To the vendor, they would just look like an affectionate couple, much less dangerous than causing a scene. She felt the man’s grip loosen and disappear as she instinctively leaned into the kiss. She felt the stubble on Rex’s face, tasted the hint of jogan fruit ice they’d shared earlier, smelled the clean scent of his soap. 

All too soon, it was over. When Ahsoka opened her eyes, she found Rex watching her with an unreadable expression. The move had defused the situation, safer for everyone involved, except maybe her heart. It pounded so hard she was sure Rex could hear it.

“Ready to go?” Rex asked.

Ahsoka nodded, sparing only a brief glance at the vendor, who had retreated behind his counter, pretending to busy himself with his wares. She didn’t miss the glare he sent Rex’s way.

As they moved through the crowd, Ahsoka’s thoughts spun. She was grateful for Rex’s quick thinking, but was that all it had been? She couldn’t shake the look he’d given her. Should she ask him about it or pretend it never happened? As they walked, she felt his hand brush against hers. She thought it was an accident until it happened again, only this time, his hand enveloped hers, giving it a gentle squeeze. She glanced over at him, catching his bashful smile.

And she couldn’t help but smile back.

[onehundredflamingos]

I’ve got a little snowball fight drabble for @theadultfandomproject ft. little Harry and Cassie (wolfstar’s baby girl by @industrations)

I wrote this one shot about little Cass a while back for anyone interested

Here ya have it <3

“Do you think they’re ever gonna come out?” James asked, laughing. “My snowball is melting, already!”

“Mine too,” Sirius said. “Better use it!” Sirius immediately launched his snowball, throwing it with perfect aim at his best friend, the packed snowball making contact against James’ bare cheek.

Sirius cackled as he turned to run, James hot on his heels.

“You two are idiots,” Regulus chided. “They’re almost ready, and you two are going to be left defenseless.”

Sirius stopped at once, turning to face James. “Oh, he’s ri—oof!” James’ snowball landed squarely against Sirius’ face, the snow flying into his mouth and making him sputter. He dragged his hand down his face, wiping away the icy flakes stuck in his beard.

“Prick,” he called to James, squatting down to scoop up another snowball, launching it at James, but missing by a hair. “Damn!”

All at once, there was commotion from across the clearing, soft-pitched war cries mingling with the sound of little feet shuffling through the snow.

“Get them!” Harry cried, him and Cassie rushing in opposite directions, jumpers curled up in front of them like little baskets, holding a mountain of snowballs each. They held the hem of their shirt up with one hand as the other scooped snowballs out one at a time, throwing them haphazardly toward the adults.

Regulus immediately launched his own half-melted snowball at Harry, just barely missing him—probably intentional, if Sirius had to guess.

“I don’t think so, Papa!” Harry called, laughing. He picked a snowball from his collection and threw it back at Regulus, hitting him square in his shoulder.

Regulus stumbled back, throwing the opposite hand up to his hit shoulder, feigning injury as Harry’s laughs floated on the wind, mingling with Cassie’s squeals.

“I’m gonna get you, Daddy!” Cassie called, running toward Sirius who immediately crouched behind James, using him as a shield.

“Get Uncle Jamie!” Sirius cried, holding onto the sides of James’ pant legs.

“Come on!” James moaned. “Am I the only one fighting? Lils help us out here!”

Lily looked down on the scene from her place on a low tree branch. She was swinging her feet, looking from the children to the adults and back again.

“Mum, help us get them!” Harry called up to her, pleading.

Lily laughed and jumped down, feet sinking into the snow. She scooped up handfuls of snow as she ran, flinging it loosely at James and Sirius as she went. “We’re gonna take you down!”

Sirius peered around James before making his way beside him and standing tall. Suddenly, it was a stand-off: three on three, everyone reaching down and scooping up new snowballs, feral grins on their faces.

“Everyone throw in 3… 2…,” James tried, but immediately Cassie was running forward, throwing a snowball from each hand as hard as she could at Sirius, seemingly spurred on by his screams of protest.

“You little cheat,” he breathed, scooping her up and digging his fingers into her sides, tickling her even through the thick fabric of her coat.

“Daddy!” she cried, trying to wriggle free. “Harry, get him!”

“Oh, no you don’t!” James yelled, trying to intercept Harry, but Regulus was too quick, throwing his own snowball at James, making him gasp. “Traitor!”

Regulus shook his head. “Just wanna watch my brother get taken down by a couple of kids.”

“You are a traitor!” Sirius cried.

“Those kids are menaces,” James said, quirking a brow.

“Just like their dads,” Lily said as she walked up to them, giving James and Sirius a pointed look. “They’re like little carbon copies of the two of you.”

Sirius looked up at James, wanting to deny it, wanting to retort that their children were nowhere near where James and he were when they were that age, but…

Sirius was suddenly pinned to the ground, genuinely attempting to fight against the weight of Cassie sitting on his chest. Harry was sprinkling snow into his hair and over his face, twisting his beard into little white locks.

“Cass, honey,” Remus called from right outside the back door of their home as he slowly emerged. “Why don’t you let your captive go, I’ve got hot cocoa!”

Cassie giggled before kissing Sirius on the cheek, jumping off him and running to Remus. Sirius could have kissed Remus then, for his impeccable timing; it had been getting hard to breathe, between the two kids and the cold air and the laughing.

“Go on,” Lily said encouragingly to Harry, nodding toward Remus. “You can have a cup too.”

“We’ve brought a cup for everyone,” Pandora said from right behind Remus, a tray of paper cups filled with hot cocoa in her hands. “And a black coffee for you, Reg,” she added with a wink at her best friend.

Sirius scoffed. Leave it to Regulus to be boring while everyone else was festive.

“Thanks, Pan,” Regulus said, ignoring Sirius altogether as he took the cup of coffee from her outstretched hand.

“Did you put marshmallows in mine?” Sirius asked, finally standing up from his place on the ground.

“Honestly, Siri,” Regulus said, rolling his eyes. “It’s like you’re younger than the kids.”

Remus chuckled. “Yes, love. I’ve brought one with marshmallows for you and James. And the kids, of course.” He winked down at the children in question, both of whom wore chocolate mustaches as they nibbled on the melted marshmallows they had sucked out of their cups.

James reached out and slapped a high-five to Sirius’ palm before they both strode forward and grabbed their cups of hot cocoa. They tapped their cups against one another’s in cheers before sipping the hot drink.

“I’m gonna get you both back,” Sirius whispered, bending forward and looking Cassie and Harry in their eyes. He flashed a mischievous grin as he allowed his playful threat to sink in.

“After lunch,” Remus called, always the responsible one.

“After lunch, it’s on,” James said with a smirk, backing Sirius up.

The same mischievous look passed over all four faces as they sipped on their drinks, and okay, maybe Lily was right.

“You don’t stand a chance, Daddy,” Cassie muttered under her breath, pointing a finger at him.

“No,” Sirius said. “I really don’t, do I?”

“None of us do,” James whispered from beside him, and Sirius knew neither of them were talking about the snowball fight anymore.

They were talking about the surge of love around them—the hot cocoa in their hands, the pain in their cheeks from laughing so hard, the stiffness in their legs from chasing after the kids. They were talking about the memories they were making, even as time flew by around them, seasons changing and the kids growing.

Sirius stuffed it all down inside him, tucking the memory of his daughter’s and godson’s little laughs into his soul, promising to never forget any of it. He took another sip of his cocoa as he made one more promise, this one aloud.

“You’re not taking me down without a fight,” Sirius whispered, stepping back and packing up a snowball, everyone setting their cups down and following suit.

The snowball fight was on — lunch would have to wait.

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Curiosity Part 3 (Final)

Summary: Colby explains his situation to Reader and asks her to be his.

TW/CW: Mentions of murder, vampires, mentions of Reader being held at knifepoint, Mafia/Vampire!Colby Brock x Reader.

Requested?: No

A/N: I'm not gonna continue this series because after reading back through it, not only am I not 100% in love with it but I'm not sure how to continue it.

Part 1 || Part 2

(Y/N)’s POV

Staring at the floor under my feet, I attempt to wrap my head around the events that had just happened. In only a handful of minutes, I had been held at knifepoint, rescued by Colby, and then shocked when my attacker dropped dead at the sniper shot of Jake. I rake my hands through my hair before declaring, “I’m dreaming. I have to be fucking dreaming.” I look around at the silent bar. A few feet away, Colby, Jake, and Sam stand watching me. I bite the inside of my cheek as hard as I can but unfortunately, it hurts like a motherfucker and I am, in fact, not dreaming.

Colby and Sam look at Jake, fury plain as day on their faces. Jake shrugs, “Listen… indirectly it was either him or her because if I hadn’t shot him, he would’ve killed you and then her as well.”

Colby clenches his jaw, but Sam is the one who responds, “Not only did you out us to (Y/N) but now we probably will have a turf war on our hands before long.”

Colby locks eyes with me as Jake attempts to defend himself, “How are they gonna know it was us? Huh? No cameras, I checked beforehand.”

Not breaking eye contact, Colby holds his hand against Sam’s chest who attempts to launch himself at Jake exclaiming, “You etch your fucking signature symbol into your god dang bullets dumbass!”

Jake snaps his mouth shut before looking down at his feet, “Shit…”

Colby approaches me now, slowly as if he’s afraid he’ll scare me off, which he might, that’s yet to be determined. What am I saying? I definitely should be getting the hell out of here. I just witnessed a murder, not to mention the fucking zipping around in the blink of an eye means there’s definitely something off about these three. Yet, despite my better judgment I stay glued to my spot.

Colby stops right in front of me and once again makes my heart flutter as he lifts my chin with his thumb and pointer finger, “What are you thinking, Sweetheart?”

I swallow thickly before replying, “Honestly? I’m thinking I should get the hell out of here.”

“Then why don’t you?” Colby whispers, staring into my soul.

“I don’t know,” I admit, “A good mystery always has been my biggest weakness.”

He grins at this, “Where’s the mystery here?” He inquires, already knowing the answer.

I roll my eyes at him, “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I pull away from him and take a seat at the bar. Dropping my head into my hands, I tug at my hair still trying to make sense of the situation I’ve gotten myself into. “Let’s start with why the hell are there a bunch of people hanging out in this fuckin’ speakeasy out of a mafia movie? Or how about what the hell are you up tied with,” I accentuate my sentence by pointing at Colby, “that a strange creep in an alleyway knows and is afraid of you? Let’s not forget that your friend here shot the aforementioned creep and then in the blink of an eye I’m here which I happen to know is a good twenty-minute walk from that alley.”

Colby sighs, waving at Sam and Jake to leave before taking a seat beside me, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Fucking try me because, at this point, I’ve lost all sense of reality,” I challenge.

Colby chuckles before finding my eyes once more, “Me and my friends are vampires but to everyone else in the city we’re just a mafia mob type organization. The man Jake shot tonight was part of Red Gang who is our biggest turf rival and you live smack dab in the middle of their turf.”

“Okay… so I might have fallen for the head of a vampire mob… got it,” I mumble to myself.

“You know being a vampire means I heard that right,” Colby states humorously causing my heart to jump, “I also heard that,” he laughs flicking his eyes to my chest and back to my eyes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” I question accusingly.

“And you’ll be the death of me,” he responds reaching up to brush hair behind my ear.

I’m now keenly aware of how close we are, “That’s- That’s not possible. Aren’t vampires supposed to be immortal?”

I notice Colby’s eyes flick to my lips and back again before shrugging, “Everything and everyone has their weakness. Your’s is a good mystery. Mine just might be you.”

I find myself leaning closer, so close our lips brush against each other as I say, “I can’t just… I have a life. I have friends and family…”

“We can play normal. However, I don’t see any point in you keeping that shitty job or crappy-ass apartment when I can easily take care of you,” he states, now staring hard at my lips. His eyes make their way back to mine, “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” I agree before finally closing the distance and kissing him. His lips fit perfectly with mine as I run my hands through his hair, tugging slightly upon reaching the back of his neck. He groans softly, reaching to pick me up and place me on the bar. Before long, we begrudgingly part for air.

He rubs his hands up and down my sides and hips, “You’re mine now?” He mutters. I nod before returning to kissing him. This time I pour every ounce of feeling I can into the kiss and I can feel him do the same. The air is full of passion and need. In the back of my mind, my thoughts call me crazy once again but I shove them away and lose myself in the man before me.

Masterlist

More Colby Brock Imagines

[bullet-prooflove]

The North Star - Part Eleven: Weak - Terry Bruno x Reader

Welcome to mine and @the-hinky-panda The Bronx universe featuring our favs Terry Bruno & Mike Duarte.

This story takes place several years after 'Blood Out'. Terry still lives in the Bronx and works in Manhatten SVU.

Following on from @the-hinky-panda story 'The Dog' Mike has retired from the NYPD on medical grounds due to seizures causes by the attack. He has a therapy dog called Bono and lives with @the-hinky-panda character Meredith.

Tagging: @mysoulisasunflower @legit9thlunaticwarrior @bbyxoo @the-adzukibean  @xoxabs88xox  @crazy4chickennuggets  @beardedbarba @wooshwastaken @justreblogginfics @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @storiesofsvu @anime-weeb-4-life @witches-unruly-heart

Part One: Moments (NSFW)

Part Two: Case of the Ex

Part Three: Her Worse Half

Part Four: Always

Part Five: Ask Me Again (NSFW) 

 Part Six: Degas

You’ve been up a couple of hours by the time Terry appears. He’d grumbled when you’d slipped from the sheets, his face pressing into your pillow as he nestled into the warm space where you’d resided. You left him sleeping as you showered, taking stock of the bruising that was starting to blossom across your wrists and between your thighs. It was had to look at yourself, when you did, you saw a victim and you hated it.

When he finds you, you’re in Meredith’s backyard, sitting on the edge of the decking throwing a tennis ball to Shasta, who hurtles after it like a wild thing, catching it in her mouth when it rebounds off the fence. The sound is soothing, rhythmic. The impact, a calming sound in the chaos of your thoughts.

You knew that sexual assault was about control, about claiming power over someone else. You’d pushed Paul’s buttons throughout the night, turning down the Degas, confronting him, you should have known better…

Just that thought, that ridiculous notion that this was somehow all your fault…

It pissed you off.

It ignited some deeply ingrained sense of rage, something savage and violent inside of you. He had put you in this position, in this horrible untenable place. Report the assault and potentially end up ruining your career or let it go, let Paul get away with it again, hurt you again, keep hurting you because you knew men like this, they didn’t stop. If it wasn’t you, it would be someone else and you knew you couldn’t live with that.

Terry dropped down beside you, his hands wrapped around a mug of coffee as his gaze lowered to the hues of purple that flourished across the surface of your skin. His lips pursed together grimly before he took a sip from his cup.

“I’m gonna do it.” You told him, launching the ball once more for Shasta to chase. She snatched it from the air before racing back towards you, ears flapping in the wind. “I’ll go to my Captain and report it.”

Terry stayed silent, his thumbs trailing over the pattern of the mug as Shasta dropped the ball at your feet.

“It’s the fact that everyone will know.” You told him quietly. “Everybody will know what I let him do to me, that I let this happen.”

“You didn’t let anything happen.” Terry said, setting his mug down beside of him. He took your hands gently in his, his thumbs tracing over the tender marks upon your flesh. “You didn’t want this; nobody would want this.”

You swallowed hard against the well of emotion in your chest. It made your heart feel heavy and the muscles ache.

“I’m supposed to be the strong one you know?” You asked him, your eyes stinging. “I’m supposed to lead. How can I do that after something like this? When my team view me as weak.”

“Is that how you think they’ll see you?” Terry asked, studying your features. “You think that Sinclair will judge you for what happened? That Lou will say you deserved it? That Carr is gonna tell people you asked for this?” Terry shook his head, his arm wrapping around your shoulders and drawing you close. “Nah, they are gonna see the same thing that I see. A survivor, someone who had everything to lose by coming forward and did the right thing anyway. Those guys have your back, just like I do, like Meredith does and even Duarte.” He said with a smidgen of humour. “You are going to get through this, I promise you.”

“I suppose Mike would always let me join his detective agency.” You said, a small smile gracing your lips. “Duarte’s Detectives has a nice ring to it.”

“The family that heists together…”

You rolled your eyes.

“It sounds more exciting than it was.” You informed him, nudging him lightly with your shoulder. “Thank you for this by the way. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

“Don’t worry pretty girl, you’ll never have to find out.”

Love Terry Bruno? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[shadyruinskryptonite]

Titan Bending Chapter 24

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: Panic attack, dissociation

A/N: I am once again coming here to apologize for being so bad at posting regularly. This isn't a big chapter size-wise, but it's a MASSIVE chapter plot-wise. If I can psychoanalyze myself for a minute, I think that's probably why I stopped working on it for so long. It's very important to me and therefore I was scared lol

WC: 3202

Previous Chapter, Next Chapter

Masterlist

Tags: @mochminnie @sseleniaa @naruwitch 

Still dressed to the nines from our fancy dinner, Aang and I sit down in a little koi pond outside of Iroh’s tea shop.

“Thanks for doing this in the water with me, it’s just that I’ve only ever done my spirit world trips in a body of water so I think it will work best this way,” I say as we get comfortable.

“Of course! It can be hard to go into the spirit world, especially if you don’t have a lot of practice,” Aang responds enthusiastically before turning to our little crowd. “Now, you all need to be as quiet as possible. It takes a lot of concentration to do this so it likely won’t work for y/n or even me if you’re talking or doing anything. Once we’re in the Spirit World though you can talk as much as you’d like, but we won’t be able to hear you at all.”

Everyone nods but, of course, it’s Hange that has a question. “How will we know when you’re in the Spirit World?”

“I don’t know for myself, but Aang’s eyes and tattoos will glow. With me just being a normal person, I’m not entirely sure,” I answer.

“I’m going to wait until you’re in the Spirit World to go in myself,” Aang assures. “You ready?”

“Let’s do this,” I say with determination.

I take a deep breath and focus on the water around me, its temperature, the sensation of it moving on my skin, the smell. I intentionally picture my body sinking into the water and becoming one with it. As the sensation of melting overtakes me, the sounds of the city abruptly disappear and when I open my eyes again I’m surrounded by vivid fields of vibrant flowers that I’ve never seen before.

It worked!

Now that I’m in the Spirit World, I’m oblivious to what is happening with my friends around me.

“Holy shit…” Sokka says in disbelief.

“I thought she said that her eyes wouldn’t do that since she’s a normal person?” Hange enquires.

“Well, we didn’t think they would but because there’s no record of non-Avatars going into the Spirit World, we really didn’t know anything. The glowing must just be something that happens when everyone goes into the Spirit World,” Aang posits. “Alright, I’m going in, too.”

As I’m trying to get my bearings, Aang almost seems to emerge from the flowers behind me.

“Okay, great. Now we just need to find Wan,” I say resolutely.

We wander for a little while before we come upon a wooded area. A three-tailed fox emerges and tries to run past us but Aang stops it.

“Excuse me, we’re looking for Avatar Wan. Would you know where we can find him?”

The fox chitters and seems to point behind it towards the woods. When we glance in the direction it pointed, a person appears from behind a tree. 

“Look no further,” a kindly looking gentleman that must be Wan says. “What can I do for you?”

Aang and I both bow deeply.

“Avatar Wan, it is an honor to meet you. We have some questions that we believe only you may know the answer to,” I say reverently.

The first avatar takes a seat against a tree and motions for us to follow suit in front of him, which we do quickly.

Aang looks to me and nudges me to begin explaining, and I immediately stutter as I launch into my story. “I-I was wondering about some people that may have split off from society during your time. A few years ago I traveled from the Fire Nation and landed where I thought was the Earth Kingdom, but it ended up being a society of secluded people that knew nothing of the outside world and that we knew nothing of. Talking about this with our good friend Iroh recently, he said that he had read something about a group of people that didn’t agree with bending in the real world but he didn’t know what happened to them. I’ve grown very close with them and I’m trying to help them find answers.”

Wan smiles knowledgably. “Yes, this was actually the prevailing conflict of my time. Georg Marley and Hans Eld were the people that did not agree with bending being brought to the real world. They were concerned that it would create a disparity between benders and non-benders, and they had a fairly large contingency of people that agreed with them. They were so freociously against it, in fact, that it started a war. This conflict was my greatest disgrace as Avatar, and it was in one of these battles that I died.”

My eyes widen, recognizing the names of Marley and Eld. “So do you know what happened to them and their followers?”

“I only know things through the sights and memories of my following lives. My understanding is that when it was discovered that there was a new Avatar and the cycle reincarnated, they decided they could not continue to fight so they peacefully withdrew but only with the assurance that they would never be bothered by benders. They went and formed their own society and to respect their wishes, the spirit world would intervene to prevent anyone from the bending world from following them or finding them. This even goes so far as to include when Sozin was hunting for you, Aang.”

“Oh, that makes sense. That was something I was curious about, because I knew he searched ‘the whole world’ to find me. I wasn’t sure how he hadn’t discovered this section of the world in his hunt,” Aang says with a bit of wonder.

“Wait, but then how was I able to travel there? And then subsequently how were Aang and the rest of them able to find me a few years later?” I ask full of confusion.

Wan sighs. “There has been considerable debate regarding this. Two thousand years ago, Ymir stumbled across one of the last remaining spirits on earth from before I sealed the spirit world to prevent travel between the two realms. That spirit is the oldest to exist, many consider it to be the common ancestor of all other spirits, including Raava and Vaatu. That’s how titans came to be. At that time, there were many spirited discussions regarding what should be done, but the side that opposed intervention won. Thus, titans have existed for the last two thousand years in her descendants.”

“But what changed?” I ask, unaware if I’m more curious or confused.

Looking particularly remorseful, Wan continues. “I don’t know the extent of it, but in a few years there will be a calamity. From the time Ymir fused with the spirit, the destructive power of titans was evident. But tensions in the world and the growing knowledge of the people you have come across is steering the world to a precipice. Again, there was heated discussion over what to do but this time it was decided that the Spirit World had been intervening in favor of seclusion for too many millenia. When fate revealed that there is impending destruction, it was decided that a bender, moreso, an Avatar, would be needed to assist.”

“So…I was allowed there to lead Aang to these people?” I ask incredulously.

Wan shakes his head. “No, you were lead there as the Avatar that will help liberate them from the Titan curse.”

I stare blankly, rendered completely speechless but still not really understanding the weight of what he just said.

Luckily, Aang jumps in. “Wait, I’m sorry Avatar Wan I don’t think I understand what you’re saying.”

“I’m saying that y/n was born an Avatar not for the benefit of the bending world, but for the benefit of the non-bending world.”

Shaking my head vigorously, my ears are ringing and I’m getting tunnel vision like I’m about to pass out. “I-I can’t be the Avatar. This has to be a mistake! The world has Aang, they don’t need me too.”

“You can be the Avatar because you are the Avatar. The bending world has Aang. The new world needs you,” He says somberly.

This can’t be happening.

It sounds like I’m underwater, but I can vaguely make out Aang asking about what this catastrophe is, but it sounds like Wan doesn’t have much of an answer for him. Aang thanks Avatar Wan for all of the information, and I distantly know to do the same.

“I think it’s probably time we return to the human world,” Aang says concerned for me.

Before we depart, Avatar Wan places his hand on my shoulder. “This is what you were born for, y/n. I know it is difficult to accept, but the universe wouldn’t have selected you if it didn’t believe you could do it.”

“Thank you,” I whisper as I continue staring at the ground in disbelief.

Wan disappears back into the forrest and Aang places both hands on my shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“I…I don’t know,” I say honestly. “When we get back, I can explain what we learned but then I’ll need to be alone for a bit I think. Can…can you tell everyone about the…Avatar…thing?”

“Yes, yes absolutely. Whatever you need,” Aang agrees automatically.

Just like that, we’ve returned to the real world. I try to shake off the mountain of anxiety and put on a brave face as quickly as possible, because everyone has crowded around and it waiting with baited breath.

I explain distantly, “So, uh, we found out a lot. Iroh was right, there were people that didn’t agree with bending in the real world. Georg Marley and Hans Eld. They, um, they had a large group of followers that they took with them to uncharted land under the condition that they not be bothered. And that was upheld and enforced by the spirit world until, well, until me. Oh, and the source of titans is a spirit, the oldest spirit that is also the common ancestor for all other spirits. It fused with Ymir kind of like Raava fused with Wan.”

I glance to Aang out of the corner of my eye. “That really took it out of me, I think I’m going to go get some rest. Aang can fill in any of the blanks you have.”

Without waiting for anyone to say anything, I turn on my heel and all but run into the tea shop. I fling the water off of me and practically rip my dress off, changing into my comfortable clothes and sneaking out to walk to god only knows where.

“Why was y/n able to enter their world if there was an embargo on our interaction?” Sokka asks.

“Is she okay?” Suki, Katara, Zuko, and Levi ask simultaneously to Sokka.

Aang sighs. “The answer to both of those questions is the same, actually. Wan said that the spirit world decided to allow assistance into that world because they had sat by idly for two thousand years as titans wrought havoc but…there’s something big that’s going to happen. It’s fate or destiny or whatever you want to call it but Avatar Wan called it a ‘calamity.’ He didn’t really explain what this cataclysmic event was going to be, just that it would be very bad. The spirit world decided that you needed not just a bender but an Avatar to help. Y/n asked if she was allowed there to lead me to you but…but that’s not the case…Avatar Wan told her that she’s…she’s an Avatar, too. That she’s the one that is supposed to help you. That’s why she’s not really okay. I don’t think she knows how to take it, which is reasonable. I mean, I ran away and disappeared for 100 years so it seems like she’s maybe taking it better than me.”

Silence falls over everyone as people try to process everything.

“So…so that’s why y/n has been able to bend fire before?” Katara asks quietly, to which Aang just nods. 

Suki chimes in again, “And my guess is that she’s not going to ‘rest?’”

“No, probably not,” Aang responds with a shake of his head. 

“Well, where do you think she went then?” Hange asks, surprisingly less excited than would be expected in the wake of such a big bomb being dropped.

Before Aang can respond, Suki says, “Somewhere she can be alone. If Aang hadn’t been there and if we hadn’t been waiting for them, she likely wouldn’t have even told any of us in the first place. She knows we have to leave in the morning so she’ll probably show up just as we’re getting ready to leave.”

After another extended silence, Zuko somberly says, “Over the next week, she’ll need to start learning the other bending styles then.”

“A week is no where near enough time,” Aang counters.

“I didn’t say master them, I said learn them. She’s, unfortunately, going to have to master them on her own. It’s unconventional, but she did it with waterbending so she can do it with the other three,” Zuko clarifies.

“Maybe her problems with fire bending consistently are that she was going out of order. I’ll work with her on earth bending first, then,” Toph postulates.

In the time that my friends discussed potential next steps, I had begun walking through the quiet, dark streets of the inner ring of Ba Sing Se. Despite it being the middle of the night, the streets were still decently busy with a late night crowd. Not that it bothered me, though. I couldn’t even truthfully say I recognized there were people around me. I had dissociated so heavily, that the people around me could have just as easily been figments of my imagination. 

Despite how deeply I had fallen into my own safe little world, the pressure on my chest was still the only thing I could focus on. It felt like Appa was sitting on my chest, and with each step I took it got harder to breathe. As soon as I was aware of the difficulty I was having drawing a full, deep breathe, I knew I was sliding into a panic attack. I hadn’t had one since I was a teenager, but the terrible feeling still had an almost nostalgic familiarity to it. Suddenly I became acutely aware of just how many people there were in the street and I was forced to retreat to a dark and secluded alley way.

Okay, okay. Ground yourself, ground yourself y/n. You’re not dying. What’s around you, come on. Open your eyes and look.

I open my eyes to find whatever it is I can see, but the darkness of the alleyway only makes me spiral more.

Okay nevermind, don’t look around. What do you hear? Is that an ant fly buzzing? Okay great. Listen to him. He’s getting closer, now he’s flying away. It seems like he’s going in circles next to you. Take a big whiff. Ope, that’s a dumpster, no wonder he’s flying around right there. The dumpster also explains the elephant rats that you can hear running around. See? All of the little creatures here are going on about their lives. So are all of the people walking the streets right now. You’re still just as insignificant as you were yesterday, and as insignificant as you were in the forrest of the tall trees. The world keeps turning, you’re okay. Press your back up against the wall, it’s cold and no one can sneak up on you. Okay, breathe in…2…3…4…hold…2…3…4…5…6…7…out…2…3…4…5…6…7…8…again.

After a few rounds of breathing, I open my eyes and see that the alley way is slightly illuminated by a faint orange glow. The sun is rising. Time to head back.

I slowly stand up, stretching as I do. While I did have a panic attack, getting out and walking did seem to help and my mind is at least clear enough that I should be able to carry on normally with everyone.

I begin retracing my steps and despite having walked for what seemed like hours last night, it took no more than two minutes for Iroh’s teashop to come into view. As I get closer, I see a sign explaining to customers that the shop will be closed for the next week due to Iroh being out of town. I enter the shop and my eyes immediately fall on Levi sitting with Iroh as he made a cup of tea for the both of them, a sight that made my heart flutter. I couldn’t help but smile.

“Got enough leaves for a third cup?” I ask tiredly.

Iroh smiles and happily adds some more tea leaves to the pot he’s brewing. I sit down quietly as Iroh goes about making the tea and I can feel Levi’s eyes on me. Before I have a chance to say anything he says, “You look like hell and smell like shit.”

I glance at him out of the corner of my eye and instantly know that that’s his way of asking if I’m alright. “I popped a squat next to a dumpster last night. I’ll be sure to shower before we’re all confined to an airship together.”

“Good,” is all he responds.

At this point, the tea is ready and when Iroh hands me my cup, he places his hand on mine. He doesn’t say anything, but holds my eyes for a moment in quiet support of what I’m going through. I place my hand on top of his and give a gentle squeeze, thanking him for the tea, the comfort, and the wisdom to know I don’t want to talk about it right now.

The three of us drink our tea in silence and by the time we finish up, the others are starting to stir so I decide to take that shower now before everyone is going to need it.

As I walk away, I don’t hear Levi whisper to Iroh, “Do you think she’ll be okay?”

Iroh smiles at his new tea buddy. “If anyone could handle this, it’s her. Y/n is someone that wants nothing more than to fade into obscurity and enjoy a peaceful life but the universe knows that she’s too special for that.” Iroh side eyes Levi as he says that, catching him nod as he whistfully watches where I had walked away. “You know how special she is too, don’t you son?”

Levi whips to look at Iroh with wide eyes, simply making him chuckle. “She has a way of putting the people she encounters under a spell and you seem entranced similar to how my nephew is.”

Levi stammers, but Iroh chuckles warmly again. “From what she’s said, you seem to be your own kind of special.”

Levi falls completely silent, still wide eyed, before he manages to choke out a whispered, “What do you mean?”

Iroh smiles and looks down at his now empty cup. “The world is a cruel place, and it is especially cruel to those that have beautiful hearts in spite of the hands they’ve been dealt.”

The two men then sit in silence as the occupants of the house bring it alive with the morning.

[kickis-conan-king]

Lance walked into the gathering room, the last one back from the party, and allowed gravity to take his limbs, sending him crashing down into the conversation pit. He landed upside down on the cushions between Hunk and Pidge. He let out a huge sigh, practically begging for attention.

Pidge frowned and scooted away. Hunk raised his eyebrows but didn’t tear his eyes away from his tablet.

Well, that just wouldn’t do.

Lance heaved another huge sigh and flung an arm over his eyes, the very picture of dejection.

“We don't care” Pidge said at the same exact time Hunk sighed and said “What is it, Lance?”

Lance elbowed Pidge only to receive a hard and painful poke in the ribs, but he used his squeal to launch himself upright.

“I’m never going to find love.” Lance declared. “Not a single person at that party would even dance with me, and I had the full charm turned on.”

Across the room someone snorted.

Frowning, Lance turned around.

Keith was leaning against the wall.

“Something funny, mullet?” Lance asked.

“Nothing much.” Keith replied, arms crossed and voice cross. “Just you.”

Pidge and Hunk were now paying attention.

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?” Lance said, swiveling his legs around and standing. His hands went to his hips and he glared.

“As if you don’t already know.” Keith huffed. “I’m just tired of it.”

“Tired of what?” Lance yelled, spreading his hands out and gesturing to the universe at large. “Pretty sure we’re all tired of your attitude so if that’s what you’re talking about, you can can it.”

“I’m tired” Keith said, taking an intimidating step forward. “of you complaining about not finding someone to fall in love with at every single planet we go to when everybody knows that you’re already in love.”

Lance’s jaw hit the floor. “Woah, woah, woah there!! Has your mullet gone and infected your brain? Who exactly do you think I’m in love with?”

“Me.” Keith said darkly, crossing his arms over his chest once again.

Lance stared at Keith in shock. He froze for a beat too long, something admitted in that pause that he didn’t even know he was aware of.

Quickly, too quickly, Lance sputtered “As if!! That’s ridiculous!! Wishful thinking, much!?”

Keith snorted and tossed his head. “Yeah, okay.”

“Why would you… I mean, what!” Lance turned to Pidge and Hunk who were staring at him in a mixture of open pity and glee, wincing uncomfortably but unable to look away. “C’mon guys, tell him!”

They both averted their eyes. They couldn’t have been less subtle if they started whistling nonchalantly.

Lance turned back to Keith, his hands held out like he was trying to stop a runaway train.

“I’m not in love with you!!” Lance shouted, his voice breaking and screeching.

“You just keep telling yourself that.” Keith said, advancing on him. “Meanwhile, your “charm” is hardly turned on, you spend all your time training with me and you hate training. You snuggle with me on movie nights, you lose your mind trying to protect me during battle. You’re always talking to me like youre totally bothered, but I’m literally always on your mind and youre not. subtle.”

Keith had gotten close enough to poke him in the chest to emphasize his words.

“No way!” Lance tried to protest. “That’s just-“

Keith shook his head and gave him a sharp and dangerous smile. “Baby, don’t lie.”

Lance choked on his spit.

“I’m the only one that makes you feel right. Bet you think about me at night, too.” Keith said. “You flirt and try to get with everyone but you always always end up with me at the end of the day.”

Lance’s face was turning a deep deep red. “No, no that’s not true. You’re reading into things!! I don’t love you.”

“Explain your behavior then.” Pidge piped up from the couch.

“Stay OUT of this!” Lance turned and snapped at her.

“Admit it. Other boys and girls never really make you feel like I do. That’s why you have no luck. You’re already in love with me.” Keith said.

He was so close now and Lance couldn’t think. Staring into Keith’s eyes like this made his mouth dry and his palms sweat.

“Keith, I-“ Lance started.

“Feel totally friendly and normal when I’m this close, do you?” Keith murmured, tilting Lance’s chin with a finger.

Lance had to admit to himself he felt…maybe not entirely platonic about Keith being within kissing distance. And maybe his heart was pounding and somewhere deep deep down, his soul was thrilling.

“I-I…” Lance didn’t know what to say.

“Shut up.” Keith said, looking down at Lance’s lips. They were so close that when he spoke Lance could feel the shape Keith’s mouth made around the words, lips brushing. “And choose me already.”

Lances brain went offline. Keith pushed him and stalked out of the room. Lance fell backwards to sprawl on the ground with what felt like an explosion of steam out of his ears. He laid there simmering on the ground, worldview wrecked and heart skipping.

A goofy grin wiggled over his face.

“Holy shit.” He said with what little breath he had. “I’m in love with Keith.”

Hunk leaned into his field of vision. “Uh, yeah ,dude. We know.”

[memento-rory]

reader going on chuckle sandwich with poly!schlatt & ted…. thoughts?

I HAVE MANY THOUGHTS. (this is literally my before bed scenario i act out in my head as i drift off to sleep.)

✭ 𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫’𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞: your relationship w/ted & schlatt has just gone public. this got really silly really fast but ted and schlatt are silly guys so i think it works.

the podcast opens up with ted and schlatt already arguing about something, and you try to get a word in but they’re just talking over each other at this point. you take your headphones off, walking off screen, returning with an air horn and pushing the button, letting it rip. ted and schlatt both flinch, and ted turns to his camera.

“welcome to chuckle sandwich.”

after the intro, you’re leaning real close to your mic, interrupting ted before he can get another word out. “hey, chucklers.” you murmur with a grin, your voice low and smooth, like a cheesy radio host. “i’m your host (y/n), here with my two favorite boys and schlatt.” you tease, peeking over at schlatt’s face on your screen.

“no way we just started the podcast and you’re already hijacking it.” ted laughs, “that’s fuckin’ craaazy.”

“and rude.” schlatt pipes up, “you’re being incredibly rude right now.”

“and what are you gonna do about it?” you ask. both ted and schlatt’s eyebrows shoot up, and you wiggle your own, earning a laugh from ted.

“guys, here with us today, you know her, you love her, we love her, everyone loves her. it’s (y/n).” ted introduces you for real, and you take another opportunity to lean into your mic, radio host voice on once again.

“hey all you chuckle fucks, it’s me, your favorite dj, here to keep you entertained on your morning drive at five.”

“what is this persona you’re putting on right now?” ted’s giggling as he asks. “who is that?”

“it’s kinda sexy,” schlatt muses, and you put your lips right up against your mic.

“yeah? this doin’ somethin’ for ya?” you tease. “if you’re thinking about taking the 405 today, think again. traffic is backed up for miles with no sign of clearing up any time soon.”

“oh yeah,” schlatt fake moans as closes his eyes, leaning back in his chair, making himself comfortable, “do the weather next.”

“okaaaay,” tucker drawls, holding back an exasperated chuckle, “enough of that. we’ve got some important shit to get through today, yeah?”

ted switches gears then, taking control of the conversation, “yeah, so… some of you may have seen a bit of a hard launch on (y/n)’s instagram today. we’re filming this a couple of days in advance but i can only imagine some of you are freaking out about this.”

“some of you freaks probably feel pretty vindicated right now.” schlatt chimes in, and you nod along. “yeah, i know some people have already kind of clocked it.” you add.

“this is the only time we’re going to, like, actually address it.” ted starts, leaning toward his mic, doing that goofy voice he always does, “we’re dating. all of us — well, not tucker, obviously — are together. don’t be weird about it, okay?”

“yeah, don’t think about us all makin’ out hard or anything, you fuckin’ weirdos.” schlatt says, immediately laughing at his own statement as ted breathes out a sigh.

“i’m thinking about it right now.” you murmur into the mic, “i’m thinking about it hard.”

“this was a bad idea.” tucker says, but he’s chuckling a little.

“no, it wasn’t.” ted says pointedly, “guys, can you rein it in, please?”

“anything for you, teddy.” you say, batting your eyelashes, earning a snort from schlatt.

“anyway,” ted tries to move on, “we’re all taken, we’re all asking you be respectful about it, and we’ll share what we want to share when we want to share it.”

“kind of like how we share each other.”

“schlatt!”

[oke-eleven]

Historical Pastiche

I rapped on the door again, harder this time. It would be easier if he didn’t answer, if I could cut off everything with no regard for loose ends, but I knew he’d be awake. Late hours were his favorite; time to work, time to be alone. He’d never sacrifice them for sleep.

Shuffling feet turned into a fumbling click and the door opened a crack, smoke wafting out the top of the frame as a sweaty mop peered out from inside.

“Ah Dominika! I thought you’d be busy tonight.”

Petr looked as he usually did when working. White smock adorned with splotches from colorful accidents over wrinkled day clothes. Red flecks decorated his face and stood out against the deep brown eyes. Everyone else in his family had blue.

“Wasn't expecting a visitor but you’re a pleasant surprise, I’ve got some sausage ready to be—”

I don't have time for this now. “I’m leaving. You and this country.”

He turned with a stupidly incredulous look, never one to feign nonchalance.

“Look, if I did something to upset you that much I deeply—”

“My family was taken.” Now I had his undivided attention.

“When did it happen?”

“Earlier tonight, I was heading back from Maria’s and heard a commotion on our street. I hid along an alley further back. After a few minutes their trucks tore by and I waited an hour to be sure they weren't coming back. The house was empty when I arrived. They didn't even have the decency to shut the door as they left.”

“Your father? And Jan too?”

“No they left the potential accomplice and informant behind, of course they took him too!”

How efficient he is at irritating me, but I can’t afford to thrash him right now.

“You talked to your father about me, no? He probably asked some very particular questions about my family and personal life, just out of curiosity of course.”

Petr looked at me quizzically. The utter naïveté.

“He reached out first but it wasn’t anything important. For once he seemed interested so yes I told him some things, but I swear it wasn't anything serious.”

Petr you poor fool, one day with no kicks and suddenly you’re begging at masters feet.

“You didn’t think about what he might do with this information?”

“I don't know what he’d do with it.”

Everybody knows damn it. When your father is a wealthy public official and associates himself with high-ranking party members and military officers, you don't need to think hard about what he might trade in to earn that position.

“You don’t have to leave Domi, you can stay here. I’m sure we can figure something out. I know he's stern sometimes but he’s honest, he wouldn’t do this! If we ask my father I’m sure—“

“Don’t act like a fucking child! Are you really that stupid or do you just want to ignore every sharp edge the world has? How often do people ever come back from their interrogations, much less Jews!?

For the first time in our short lives together Petr looked at me with what appeared as genuine shame, or an excellent mask of it. He spoke up sheepishly.

“What will you do then?”

“Travel south through Austria then continue into Italy, ideally as far as Venice before the year is done. I studied there shortly before Jan was born and have established contacts.”

“I’ve heard the canals are beautiful.” Idiot.

It was a lie. Mother’s family were Poles living in France, they had already agreed to shelter us should father run afoul of people with any power. Once in Paris I’d make my own way. It was always a possibility one of us would be traveling alone, but now that I’m really doing it…

“You can stop and grieve when you need to.” Insufferable.

“I can’t, I need to keep moving, stopping lets the thoughts sneak in and I…I can’t afford that right now.” Cut it off, cut off everything.

Before he can start with some unwelcome platitude I pull out the single item I brought him and launch into my final prepared spiel. It was what he truly needed to hear. If this last attempt fails then my efforts were completely wasted.

“Sometimes I was harsh with you but it was well deserved. I tried to turn you into something greater than you ever had the capacity to be. I failed in that task, and I’m sorry. You can’t put a baby who hasn’t learned to walk on their feet, and you can’t poise a man with no legs of his own upright. Useless in all that mattered, a superb waste of a soul. I bestow upon you the ultimate shame. I also grant you one final opportunity to show that you are human, and therefore have the agency for even a single significant choice.”

It had to be sharp. It had to cut through every layer of self pity and cleanly shear his mind. I was finally done with him. I placed a golden metal square in his palm. Good riddance.

“Ahoj Petr. I hope your complacency is rewarded and the world bends to meet your nonexistent will.”

੦

I stand where Dominika must’ve earlier that night. Her footprints traced a frantic path around the vicinity where soft soles scuttled between cavernous bootprints yet to be filled in with fresh snow. What was going through her head then? Plans no doubt, she was always planning, always thinking about the future and which way to twist its balls. Rarely was there a time she sat truly idle. Born into this world a schemer and will no doubt depart the same way. Shit. The bitch must’ve been cooking up that speech for months, making sure it would sting. I headed towards her front door.

I smell it before I’ve stepped through the entryway. She really didn’t waste any time. So eager to burn everything down and leave the trashed remnants behind? She really could’ve asked for help. I suppose this request was her own warped way of doing it. Or was it just for me?

Being inside made immediately apparent her plan. Domi’s last stop had been my place. She couldn’t have been here more than an hour and everything was ruthlessly prepared. The sweet stench of gasoline clung to every surface and chromatic puddles sat stagnant in every room.

I pulled out her last trace and stared. A zippo lighter engraved with a quail I bought at a flea market, something simple I thought she’d appreciate. With it came an elaborate history from the vendor; I gifted it to her on the basis of this hackneyed biblical metaphor I can’t remember at the moment.

“One last chance.”

I keep thumbing the metallic surface while I walk. Why can’t I put this back? I can just set it down and leave and everything…

My mind was suddenly focused on the open closet. Hidden compartments? They’re all open. Everything here is outlawed. This is real contraband. This place is a storehouse for resistance.

Was this why father was so interested in Domi, the men of the party suspected something like this?

“The police didn’t find it yet.”

They would, they’d be back in time. Should I just leave it?

No wonder she fled so quickly. Sitting around with all this mere feet away. Insanity.

My head was killing me. The fumes. I’ve inhaled too much, I need to leave.

On the table sat memorabilia taken from somewhere else. Photos off the wall, toys for a child. Tereza, Tomas, Dominika, Jan. Jan. He was only ten. They arrested him, but he’ll be fine. The evidence here will mean Tomas is surely killed, not tortured though. Right? But Jan will be okay. Surely. He’s only a child. A plucky child. A young, hopeful delight of a child. He’ll surely be okay. He doesn’t know anything. Nothing would ever happen to an innocent child. He’ll be released to live a long carefree life like children should. He’ll come back to…where? Father and mother and sister gone, where will he go?

“Ten years old…”

I can’t breathe. The fumes are suffocating me. Why can’t I see? I need to go outside.

While I had done my walkthrough the city began its gradual awakening. Back on the lawn I hear lone cars on the main avenue two streets over. It has to be now, before people wake up and the sun can melt any snow.

A lone red can sits near the garage door. So you didn’t completely finish the job for me. Carefully I pick up the can and tip, trickling a tiny river down the driveway and out to the sidewalk. I throw the can back and it thunks the wood siding and clangs the stone path.

I pull a pack of cigarettes from my jacket. Domi always hated that habit, said smoking made people too carefree and ignorant of their surroundings. Could never wholeheartedly disagree. Flicking open the lighter I hold it under the box, let the flame catch every end and drop the homemade torch, tobacco sprinkling into the puddle at my feet. A blazing trail shoots instantly from my shoes around the fence and up into the garage, igniting first the tank of the Volkswagen sitting inside, then spreading along other gasoline paths throughout the whole house. The blast shreds through wooden frames and within seconds turns the abandoned family home into a deafening inferno.

The roaring wind throws me down hard. Flat on my ass. I scramble up and flee, stumbling away as the blaze consumes everything behind me as it surely reaches for me too.

I sprint down the street as a warm snow begins to fall. I feel it on my face. I wipe away tears. The snow comes harder, the tears flow faster, the sobs begin. I can’t breathe. The smoke chokes my throat and the tears choke my eyes. Where am I running? What will I do there? I’m weeping. I’m collapsing. A wave crests and smashes me harder than the conflagration behind.

I hadn’t said it. I couldn’t say it.

“Ahoj Dominika, I hope your wake spreads and alters the current of the world.”

[destineysbooks]

What I have of chap 3 for my newest book

When they arrived, the music began to play. Everyone outside followed Savaya in. Dimka had brought a minister in, and Adrian stood beside him, dressed in his best tartan. Slowly, Savaya walked to stand beside him. Adrian was in awe of how amazing she looked.

            Once at the front of the hall, the minister began, “We are gathered here today to join this man and woman in holey matrimony, is there anyone here that objects this union?” Just then the door to the hall slammed open.

            “I object!” Her father bellowed staring daggers at everyone gathered in the hall. He marched forward and grabbed her arm, “No way in hell are you lowering yourself for a knight.”

            “Father! Let me go!” Savaya tried in vain to break free.

            “No!” He boomed, “You are my daughter, and you will obey me!”

            “The Lady wants you to release her,” Adrian stared after them.

            “Who do you think you are?” Fredrick demanded, “Where is my other daughter?”

            “She’s safe away from you; just as Savaya wishes to be,” Dimka came forward then. He was wearing his ceremonial tartan.

            “Is that slut worth dying for, boy?” Fredrick sneered.

            “For one she’s no slut; she’s, my wife. So, to answer your question, yes, she is,” Dimka replied angrily.

            “Well, you may have soiled the worthless one, but not my prized girl,” Fredrick smirked then as he yanked Savaya closer to the door.

            “You’re taking my wife to be, nowhere!” Adrian growled loudly. His teeth elongating and his face and body shifting into that of a huge wolf with wings. Savaya turned and saw him and sucked in a breath. His fur was mottled black and brown, but his wings were pure black.

            Her father’s grip tightened to the point of her arm started to tingle, “You can’t stop me.” Fredrick continued to drag her to the door, “You will not marry a monster!” With every step away her heart felt like it was cracking.

            “Adrian, no. Let them go. We will prepare for war and bring her home,” Dimka put his arm out to stay his friend’s launch. To answer, Adrian snarled, but stayed where he was.

            As they left to reach their ship, Fredrick and his men smiled and sneered. All but Blake, who felt sorry for both ladies. He actually hung his head in shame, “How can you be filled with glee? That man is a monster.” He was of course speaking again to his bunkmate or so he thought.

            “What’s that Blake? I’m a monster? Perhaps, that is true. The welfare of my daughters’, however, shouldn’t concern the rubbish such as yourself,” Fredrick then slapped him hard across the face, “Next time you will receive the whip, if you dare speak against me again.” Holding his mouth, Blake stayed silent. They boarded the ship about an hour later after making it to the port. Fredrick then shoved Savaya into a cabin room and locked it, “You will never escape me, again.”

            “Why can’t I marry him?” Savaya asked quietly.

            “You saw what he was, a monster. You don’t belong with a man like that. One with no control over his temper, he could hurt you or a child you have together. Plus, you are a Lady, you deserve a better man than a stupid knight,” he told her callously.

            “I love him,” she replied even quieter.

            “You love a monster? Are you daft?” Fredrick slammed the cabin door shut, laughing in her face. He then locked the door and strolled away smiling. Oh, he was still angry as all hell about Avery. However, he still had his alliance and bread winner, Savaya. As he walked the floor of the main ship, Savaya stood banging at the door.

            “Father, you can’t do this,” she all but screamed in vain. The man only wanted to fill his coffers now. At least that’s how it seemed. She slumped against the door, her heart aching. She’d been so close. Now, she’d have to wait and see if Adrian came for her. Something she hated, but she knew it wouldn’t take him long. He was after all a flying wolf, literally.

            “So, what you just let him take her?!” Adrian was fuming at Dimka, even as his friend dressed for war.

            “I had to because I do not wish bloodshed upon my people. However, you see I’m dressing for the war that is to come, yes? Calm down and think things through. You need to be analytical, not emotional. Plus, you have wings and can fly faster, but I’d also prefer you don’t leave my side. I’m planning to catch him on open water,” Dimka replied, smiling. He rarely saw Adrian this wrung out. It amused him.

            “Oh, and I know you’re right, but you don’t have to go through this; you married yours that first night,” Adrian told him, flustered. He didn’t get mad that he’d waited, but it did frustrate him to no end that her father had shown up right then.

            After that was said, they headed to start preparations to leave, Dimka also ordered Adrian to fly out and cause trouble to keep the ship in the bay. So, Adrian quickly ate to keep up his strength, and shifted. His wings extended to a great length, and before he leapt into the sky, he looked at Dimka and waited for his nod. Once he received it, he was up into the sky.

            “Sire, Adrian is coming,” one of Laird Fredrick’s men shouted, pointing in the sky.

            “Fuck, round up the cannons! Fire him down, boys!” Fredrick yelled. They kept trying to steer away from Adrian every time he swooped down, so what they did was go round and round in circles. With Dimka’s army closing in, Adrian went to the head ship and landed with a thud.

            Shifting, he walked over to Dimka, “What now?”

            “We level with their ship, and then take their ship. We will strike a bargain, but if he should refuse, we will hold him and his men hostage at our keep,” Dimka replied with a smile. As he told the crew what to do, they scrambled about to obey the orders. When Frederick’s cannons started the fire, so did theirs. It was all a ruse, and to get aboard his ship. While his cannons fired, Dimka and a few of his men swung over on ropes. Adrian was one of them, and he instantly started looking for Savaya.

            “Father! What the hell is going on?! Why is there swords clanging?” Savaya was yelling with false worry in her voice, and hope hidden away in her heart. When the door swung open and she saw Adrian, she flew into his arms.

            “We have to go. I want you on Dimka’s ship, so nothing happens to you,” he then took her across on a rope. He was shocked it held both of them but was nonetheless grateful.

            “Please, stay with me?” She asked him but saw on his face he had to go.

            “I’ll be back for you, I promise,” he then went back aboard her father’s ship. Throwing a man overboard, he found Dimka, “I have Savaya on your ship. Now, what?”

            Dimka made his way to the head of the ship, grabbed Fredrick by the back of the neck, “We take Savaya, or you come with us and possibly lose your life.”

            “No, no, not my Savaya. She’s too good for a monster!” Fredrick growled, staring daggers at Laird Dimka.

            “Then you pay with your life, you should anyway. Especially, after hurting Avery,” Dimka growled angrily. Remembering the night his wife finally told him of her pain, made his blood boil to overflowing.

            “NO! I will not die for wanting my daughter to do better, in truth this with Avery should strengthen our possible alliance,” Fredrick squirmed in his hold.

            “Adrian is a remarkable man, even your daughter thinks so. She didn’t find out about his inner beast until you made him reveal it. He wanted to do it slowly, but YOU forced his hand. Do you really get a joy out of crushing your daughters beneath your boot?” Dimka was red in the face now.

            Just as he raised his sword to literally slice Fredrick’s throat, Adrian roared angrily, “NO!” Within seconds he was there next to Dimka staying his hand. “Throw them in the haul!” He yelled to the men. They complied happily. Slowly, they sailed back to their keep. It took a few hours, but they all made it in one piece.

            “Where do you want him?” The other knights asked, looking to their laird for the answer.

            “Put him in the dungeons of the keep,” Dimka finally answered. He’d gotten some control on his anger since he had that outburst on the ship. When they strolled thru the keep doors, Avery was scanning the crowd for Savaya. Not seeing her right away, she hugged Dimka.

            “Where is Savaya?” She asked quietly, yet still loud enough to be heard.

            “She’s with Adrian, be patient my love,” Dimka held her close, and kissed the top of her head. Just then the two appeared. Adrian was all but carrying Savaya.

            Avery instantly ran to her side, “Is she okay?”

            “Yes, her legs just don’t want to work,” Adrian smiled. He had kissed her until her legs gave out on their ride back.

            Dimka’s voice then rang out, “If the bride and groom are willing, a wedding can still be had?” He was looking at the two with a smile.

            “Yes,” they both moved to where the minister needed them quickly.

            “It is to my understanding you’d both like to say vows?” The minister questioned. He didn’t look old and pious like Savaya had always pictured.

            “I’ll go first,” Adrian smiled a little nervously, “Savaya, I’ve known you from afar for three long years,” he laughed a bit. “I have tried getting you off my mind, but it never worked. It didn’t matter who I was with, they were no you. I wanted to be the one to make you laugh and wipe your tears. Even then I wanted to be there for you, and now as I stand before you, I have one question. Will you spend the rest of your life with me? I’m not rich, but I do verry well.” When he finished, he stood there as she began hers.

            “I don’t have the connection you do, but yes. I will spend the rest of my life with you. I was just going to say in the past couple of days you’ve opened my eyes to so much. Just one kiss has me walking wobbly. What I’m trying to say is, I love you,” she blushed heavily as she finished her words.

            “I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may kiss the bride,” the minister smiled, as Adrian grabbed Savaya around the waist with one arm and cupping her face with the other hand kissed her deeply yet softly. Everyone in the keep was shouting their glee at the union. They all figured it was time Adrian settled down, and the Lady Savaya was an amazing woman.

            “I think, it is time for a feast!” Dimka hollered out with a laugh. They all went to where they were to be seated, and the servants all brought out the food. There were all kinds of bounty brought to each table. From roast duck to roast rabbit, along with honey ham and garlic chicken. That’s only counting the meats though. With the meat went mashed potatoes, green beans, corn on the cob, peas, spinach salad with lettuce and other greens, and mince meat pies. For dessert was a huge five tier wedding cake done in all the colors of purple with the top being the one combining his color of green in.

[drurrito]

sleight of hand

a/n: Prompt fills to add more color to this universe (predating everything that has happened so far of course) “I’ll keep you safe” and “don’t ever do that again”

summary: missions don’t always go according to plan

warnings: cursing

—————————

“Everyone remember the plan?” Steve asks over comms.

“Get in, get the suitcase and get the hell out, easy enough,” you shrug and Natasha smacks your stomach.

“Look alive, y/n, I’m not dragging your ass back to base if you get hurt because you can’t follow directions.”

“Relax, Tash, I know what I’m doing," Natasha is grateful that she can't see your stupid, cocky grin through your helmet. This mission should be a breeze if she can keep you in line. She knows better than to gamble on your cooperation, though.

“You better,” Natasha mumbles while eyeing the building a few blocks down. She weaves in and out of traffic with you close behind. It’s not long until you arrive at the loading dock and slip inside the building.

“Alright, 77 floors, that tracker should start going crazy once we get close enough to the asset,” Natasha sheds her riding gear, revealing a slender body suit you don’t try to stare at while she holsters her weapons.

“Ready for this?”

“Don’t worry, Tash, I’ll keep you safe,” you wink and she shoves you towards the service elevator with a scoff.

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

Finding the asset was easy enough. Being forced to work your way through a floor infested with HYDRA agents, not so much.

“Guess that means the boys are holding up their end of the plan,” Natasha grunts while pumping bullets into the halls.

“Come on, we’ll be stuck here all day if we just keep shooting,” you take a few steps down the hall but Natasha stops you.

“We can’t just take off running with this much heat on us. Only way is up or a very, very long way down.”

“We have the suitcase, we just have to hitch a ride with Tony or Sam. Staying here won’t give us our best chance at making it out alive.”

“Just follow orders and we’ll get the asset out in one piece,” Natasha commands. She isn’t looking at you anymore, shoving more bullets in the agents charging at you two.

“Shit, they got rockets.”

You don’t wait around to see what she’s talking about, pulling her with you into a corner office before an explosion rips through where you both were just standing.

“Now what?”

Natasha mutters something in Russian before yelling into comms for any of the boys to give an ETA. The agents are crawling down the hall to get to you now.

“Sam is closer, 2 minutes out -- I’m still fighting with their air support. They’re really pulling out all the stops for this thing,” Tony grunts back.

You don’t have two minutes, you’re getting killed up here. You’re going to actually die unless you do something, fast.

You shoot the window behind you and point a grapple line towards the top floor. Natasha doesn’t realize what you’re doing until it’s too late. You grab her belt and hook it to the line just as the doors to the office burst open.

“We’re going up with the asset, grab the first person you see, Sam,” you say into your comms, quickly cuffing the suitcase to Natasha’s wrist.

“What are you doing?” Her eyes are wide, your grin is too.

“You go high, I’ll go low--see you on the other side, Tash!”

With that you give her a hard shove and she zips up to the top floor against her will, her curses pinch in your ears once her feet touch ground.

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

Natasha stomps into your room back at the compound, you’re already a few beers deep, bracing yourself for impact. Steve and Tony already gave you their own versions of a reprimand but you know Natasha’s is going to give you the biggest headache.

“Don’t you ever do that again!”

“Do what? Launch you out of a window?”

“You disobeyed orders, you didn’t stick to the plan!” Natasha’s face is as red as her hair at this point. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her this angry, especially with you.

“Oh I’m sorry, maybe next time we can send our plans over to the bad guys so we can all be on the same page then,” you take a lazy swig from your beer. Natasha keeps her eyes steeled on you and balls her hands into fists, taking a long, deep breath.

“You pull another stunt like that and I’ll make sure you’re doing paperwork for at least a week. There are rules to this, y/n.”

“Shit went sideways. I found a way out. Rules be damned. Tony does it all the time and no one bats an eye!”

“Tony also wears a suit that is almost indestructible. You and your very destructible limbs won’t survive catching a few bullets or falling a few feet.”

You blink a few times and pretend to mull over her words before speaking again.

“So, what I’m hearing is that I need to get a suit.”

Natasha storms out of your room much angrier than she was before.

[gaysimpsstuff]

Accidentally Injuring Their Partner PT. 2

Part One Here

Y’all- the last one is like, my most popular post. As I’m currently writing this, it’s literally almost at 1K notes so... yeah. This one needed a lot of thought and effort if it’s going to meet people’s expectations. 

Please read the note I added at the end of the fic

Genre: angst

Type: drabbleshot

Warnings: gore, mentions of hospitals, crying, cursing, toxic relationships, self blame, some real ‘who cares how I feel, how do you feel?’ kind of unhealthy vibes, hazbin hotel reference (found in Todoroki’s section), talking down on oneself,

Other: this was requested multiple times, but this bitch was planning it before it was requested haha I’m so cool no I’m not I still feel like shit lmao. 

Angst Taglist: @smolchildfangirl @combat-wombatus @mandalorian-baby-bird @waffleareniceandfluffy @catcherisvibin @thesubtlewhore

Tomura Shigaraki

It was really all he could do to stare at you.

You’d moved from the theatre to an abandonment hospital, mostly to find any leftover supplies to help with your arm, or rather, lack thereof.

You’d only sort of expected this. Tomura lashing out at you, you getting hurt, you just didn’t expect it to result in you loosing a fucking arm.

Toga was helping to change your bandages, and Magne was speaking quietly with Twice, Spinner, and Compress.

Dabi was speaking with Shigaraki outside the room, and you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were glad, you didn’t exactly want to hear his voice right now.

You didn’t think you were being that annoying, you thought you were just helping him. And you usually did. When he’d have his little tantrums, he’d get upset at you sure, but he’d never hurt you.

You knew you didn’t do anything differently than usual, maybe he was just more stressed than ordinary? Maybe you should’ve recognized that and altered yourself to fit accordingly.

Or maybe he’d just been horrible, and attacked you for no reason, and you had just been trying to help him.

You knew it was more likely the latter, but you couldn’t help but blame yourself. People don’t just try to kill their partners that they love so much

The door slid open, and Dabi stepped in. He glanced around the room, waving his hand to usher Magne, Spinner, Twice, and Compress out of the room. Today stood up, but you grabbed her hand.

Dabi pushed the door open a little wider, and your boyfriend stepped inside. For once, you were glad he had that horrible hand in his face, you knew that if he took it off you’d probably vomit.

“Call us in if you need anything.” Dabi offered uncharacteristically, sliding the door shut behind him.

Everything was quiet.

Not even the people in the hallway wanted to say anything.

He slowly walked towards you, pulling up a chair and sitting down.

You sat cross-legged on the creaky hospital bed, staring at him as Toga held your hand.

“Why are you here?” You asked quietly.

“I- I um. Why is she here?” Tomura ignored your question, pointing to Toga next to you.

“She’s here because she chopped off my arm after you dusted it. She’s here because she saved my life. Why are you here, Tomura?”

One of his hands lifted to his neck, scratching lightly.

“Shit- I didn’t want anyone else in here-“

“Why not? Don’t want anyone to see you loose yourself and hurt me more? Don’t want anyone here to save me?” You snapped.

“You- you know I didn’t mean it-“

“It doesn’t matter if you meant it or not, Shigaraki.” He flinched away when you spat out his last name like that. “I still got hurt. I lost a fucking arm because of you. How horrible are you that you have to cover up your own insecurities by trying to kill me? No really, I could have died.”

“I’m sorry!” He exclaimed, nails digging deeper into his neck. “I love you, okay? And I promised I’d protect you so-“

“So you broke your promise in the worst way possible.” You swung your legs over the side of the bed, squeezing Toga’s hand before letting go. You walked up to Shigaraki, lifting your hand and gripping his shoulder tightly.

“I’m going.” You whispered. “I can’t be around you. I still have family outside the League, friends that aren’t villains. I can build myself a semi-normal life. I’ll be happy without you.” You turned back to Toga, offering her a smile. “You can come over whenever you want, you’re my friend.” You headed towards the door.

You paused when you heard a soft noise, like a gargled scream. You turned around, seeing Shigaraki shaking.

“No, no please no- don’t go!” He spun around, grabbing your shoulders. You shoved him off you in an instant, curling into yourself

“GET OFF ME!” You screamed. But he was already launching himself at you again, you saw his palm flying towards your face. This time, it wasn’t an accident.

And you knew you wouldn’t make it out this time.

You were pulled back by a strong force, realizing Magne was holding you tight. Compress and Dabi were on either side of Shigaraki, holding him back, while Twice had ran to Toga.

“No! I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! Please don’t leave me!” He screamed, the hand fell loose on his face, tumbling down to the floor. You turned away, not wanting to see him.

You could only imagine his expression.

“Goodbye, Shigaraki.” You whispered, ducking out of Magne’s grip and rubbing off.

“Goodbye.”

Touya Todoroki/ Dabi

It had been a week since he’d seen you, a week since he’d felt your hands on his. A week since he’d heard your voice. A week since he’d seen your smile.

A week since he’d burned you.

Called you inferior.

Threatened to kill you.

Well there was certainly a reason why he hadn’t gone to see you since the incident.

But...

He missed you.

He felt so guilty, knowing what he’d said and done to you, and he needed to see you.

Maybe he was just being selfish.

Maybe he knew he’d done something wrong.

Maybe he needed to call you.

He flipped his phone upside down, then right side up again on the counter of the bar.

Toga sat on a stool next to him, tapping her hands against the marble in boredom.

“So... what’s up with you?” She asked, cocking her head and glancing at him.

“Like I’m telling a brat like you.” He growled, flipping his phone over again.

“You’ve been off all week!” She exclaimed, leaning towards him. “Somethings happened to you.”

“If i tells you a little, will you shut up?”

“Mhm mhm!”

“Ughhhhh fine. I had a fight with someone close to me. I... I really hurt them. I know it. I haven’t spoken to them in a week.”

“So... Dabi has a soft spot?”

“That’s not the point of this. Also say that again and I’ll kill you.”

“Oookay then. You should just call them. Say something to them and apologize.” She offered with a shrug.

Dabi sighed, pressing his face into his hands.

“They don’t want to talk to me. Trust me on that.”

“Welp- that’s just my advice. Cent for my thoughts kind of thing except you didn’t pay me. You owe me a penny.”

Toga shrugged, hopping off the chair and leaving the room.

“Don’t owe you shit.” Dabi grumbled, glowering down at his phone again. He pulled up your contact, staring at the picture he’d set for you.

You had a bright smile, emoji hearts decorating your cheeks. It was from your first ‘date.’ When you’d hung out at your place after he broke in looking for shelter and food.

You’d taken care of him, let his spend the night, and even offered to let him stay whenever he needed to.

You were an Angel on earth.

And he’d burnt you.

Called you dirty.

And selfish.

You were anything but.

Ring

Ring

Ring

“Why the hell are you calling me?”

“I-“

“Dabi. Why are you calling me? You hate me, don’t you?”

“I don’t hate you...”

“Jeez, coulda fooled me.”

“Baby...”

“Don’t call me that.”

“I- I didn’t mean it.” He choked out. “Everything I said, I didn’t mean it. And I-“

“I really don’t care. The doctors said my arms would scar. I’m burnt and scarred like you. Are you happy? Is that what you wanted to achieve? Make me like you so that no one would want me? So that only you could have me?”

Yes

“No! I never wanted to hurt you, ba- Y/n please,”

“Please what? Please what, Dabi? What do you want from me? Huh? You want me to cradle you and say is all going to be okay? You want me to kiss your scars and tell you you’re beautiful? You want me to suck your dick and tell you I love you? After everything you’ve put me through?”

“I-“

“It’s not just you burning me. You’ve left me for days without contact, and then showed up like nothing’s happened! You’ve hit me and then groveled and cried for my mercy! You’ve made me do so much shit for you in bed that I never wanted to do! Our entire relationship, I was scared you’d get sick of me and kill me!”

“You really thought that?”

“Well guess what motherfucker? You can’t come after me! I’ve told the police what happened. Everything between us. They’re helping me move across the country. You’ll never see me again. Happy?”

“No. No no I’m not happy why would I be happy? You made me happy, when I didn’t even know what the word meant, you don’t have to go through with this, please don’t go through with this!”

“Don’t flatter me. I never made you happy. Nothing could make you happy except watching the world burn. I don’t make you happy, Dabi-“

“Yes you do!”

“Just shut up. I’m going to hang up. If I’m being honest... I’ll miss you. You made me happy. But with so much anger and fear surrounding you, it’s hard to even remember the last time we were happy together.”

“I’m... I’m sorry.”

“I know.”

Beep

Beep

Beep

You were gone.

Shouto Todoroki

If you thought Shouto was quiet before, you should see him now, wait, you were seeing him now, in class, eyes boring into your spine.

You still had a large bandage on your face, being hit in the face with plus added fire power is bound to leave a mark that lasts for over three days.

Did I mention it had been three days now?

It’s very hard to ignore Shouto, seeing as you were in the same class and lived in the same dorms. 

Plus everyone in class wanted to know what happened between the two of you, why Shouto seemed so down, why you had the bandage on your face, and if it was all connected.

You’d only told one person what had gone down between the two of you, and that was Bakugou.

Which maybe was a mistake, because he took to trying to fight Todoroki every time he saw him, and repeatedly told you that he ‘fuckin knew that icy-hot bastard was a good-for-nothing bag of of poorly packaged horse shit.’

You appreciated his comfort, but it hurt you every time he said something about Todoroki.

“I don’t get why you’re defending the scumbag. His hand hasn’t even healed off your face yet!” 

You and Bakugou were heading to the dorms after class, and he had gone on his usual tangent about how Todoroki did this, Todoroki did that, Todoroki was an asshole, etc etc.

“I mean... he’s technically still my boyfriend. And he’s been nothing but kind to me up until this point. He just... he was stressed, and I was being a bother. I’m sure the injury will fade at some point, then he’ll talk to me again and we can get back to normal.” you shrugged, rubbing at the back of your neck. “We’ll be fine.”

“You know what you are? A pushover.” Bakugou glared at you. 

“Wha- I am not! Where did you get that idea?” 

“Oh I don’t know, maybe from the fact that You forget to check in with how you feel and keep thinking only about that Half n Half bastard! ‘Oh, he must be so upset with himself!’ Fuck that! How do you feel?” 

You kept your eyes on the ground, speeding up. Bakugou grabbed your sleeve, tugging you backwards. His hands found your shoulders, thumbs rubbing soft circles. Your breath hitched, did Shouto ever do this for you? 

Not that you could remember.

“I feel... nervous.” you admitted. “I’m nervous that he meant what he said to me. That I’m nothing but a bother to him. I’m nervous that he’ll never come and talk to me, never apologize. I’m worried that if he does talk to me, he’ll think it was my fault. It wasn’t was it?”

You looked up at Bakugou warily, and squeaked when he tightened his grip on your shoulders.

“The fuck? Of course it’s not! Idiot.” he poked your forehead, and you couldn’t help but giggle a little. “Keep talking.”

“Um... I’m...” you took a deep breath. “I’m angry. I’m angry that he hasn’t talked to me. I’m angry about what he said. I’m angry that he even hit me to begin with. If we were training, of course it’d be different, but we weren’t training. And he hurt me. And now I’m doubting everything between us.”

Bakugou was silent, Cardinal eyes met yours. The tension was thick enough to cut with a knife, and for a moment, you feared Bakugou would try to blow your ass up for being a pathetic little weakling.

I mean... compared to people like Todoroki and Bakugou, you were right?

Bakugou took a step forward, pulling you into his arms. You held your breath, wondering if he was going to finally snap and kill you. 

But... it felt nice. 

You lifted your arms, wrapping them around his body and tugging him a little closer. You buried your face into his uniform shirt, body shaking a little as you cried.

You almost wanted to scream, but then the school would panic.

So you just cried, sobbing into his arms and letting him hold you. His embrace was war and comforting, nothing like you’d felt from your so-called boyfriend.

Maybe he was right, maybe you really shouldn’t try to think about him.

You did deserve better.

You sniffled, pulling off Bakugou with a soft smile.

“Thanks, Bakugou. I really needed that. And you’re right.”

“What was that second thing?”

“You’re right.”

“Hmmm?” Bakugou cupped a hand around his ear, feigning deafness.

“Oh my goodness- I said you’re right!”

“That’s it.” he patted you on the shoulder, proud smirk traced across his features. You chuckled. “Now you’re going to tell that to Mr. Daddy Issues and get the fuck over him.” 

“Alright, but you’re coming with me!” he nodded, keeping his hand on your shoulder as you returned to the dorms, heading to his dorm.

You paused just outside his door, knocking lightly. Bakugou was a few feet behind you, out of the way, but close enough to step in if something were to happen.

The door swung open slowly, revealing a bored-looking Todoroki. WHen his eyes landed on you, he jumped a little, taking a step back. His hand tightened around the doorknob, his other hand gripping his pants

“Y-Y/n-“ he stuttered, eyes flickering between you and Bakugou. “I-“

“We need to talk.”

“Listen I- I’m sorry!” He exclaimed.

“Todoroki, I don’t think you get it. ‘Sorry’ doesn’t cut it. You might have scarred me, so your one mistake might stay with me my whole life!”

“I know.” His head drooped, and his grip on his pants loosened. “I know. I’m- I’m just like him.”

“Him?”

“I promised I was nothing like him but here we fucking are!”

“Shoto what are you talking about?”

“I’m the worst kind of person!”

“No!”

Shouto looked up, eyes brimming with tears. You took a few steps forward, taking his face into your hands.

“I’m sorry.” You whispered “it was an accident, and you didn’t mean it. Please don’t talk about yourself like that.”

Bakugou grabbed you, yanking you away from him

“Uh, what the fuck? You came here to sever ties with him, not fucking comfort him!”

“Look at him, Bakugou. He needs me.”

“Y/n-“

“Trust me.” You smiled at Bakugou, pushing him away from you slowly before turning back to Shouto. You took the boy into your arms, rocking back and forth with him.

You ignored the heavy feeling in your chest, and the screams your brain slew ar you to get off of him, get away from him, and let Bakugou protect you.

You ignored logic, emotion, and all better judgement.

For this boy who’d hit you.

But Bakugou would end up being right, he was smart.

You’ll see.

Katsuki Bakugou/ Dynamight

Shit wrong Pomeranian

That’s better

Katsuki stood outside Recovery Girl’s room, waiting for Kirishima to come out and tell him what was going on.

He was chewing on his nails, foot tapping against the ground as he stared at the door. He could hear people moving around and talking inside.

He couldn’t get the sound of your screaming out of his head, the large dark patch that formed on your skin around your face, the way you just... fell.

The door slid open, and Bakugou stared forward and Kirishima stepped out, smiling and thanking Recovery Girl.

Bakugou was on his feet in an instant, grabbing Kirishima’s arm.

“How are they? Do they hate me? Can I see them?” He rambled, Kirishima gently pushing Bakugou off him.

“Uh, they’re fine for the most part, they haven’t said anything about you at all, and ask Recovery Girl.” He said, backing off down the hall as Bakugou stared helplessly after him.

“You uh- you might want to apologize. They are really upset.” Kirishima told him, quickly running off down the hall. Bakugou faced towards the room, stepping inside.

A cyan curtain blocked him from seeing you, and he heard shuffling behind it. It slid open, Recovery Girl stepping out. She looked up and saw Bakugou.

She wacked his leg with her needle/cane, and he yelped, stumbling backwards.

“You have no shame!” she snapped. “With what you did to them, you should be cowering outside right now!”

“Shhh!” Bakugou pressed up against the wall. “Do you want them to know I’m here?”

“Are you that clueless?” she grumbled, pulling herself up into her chair. “They’ve gone temporarily deaf.” Bakugou froze, glancing back at the curtain.

He’d blown up your eardrums.

He felt Recovery Girl press something into his hands, and he glanced down. 

It was a small whiteboard, with a pen and washcloth.

This was how he’d have to talk to you.

On a fucking whiteboard.

RG pulled the curtains aside, revealing you.

You were laying in the bed, half your face wrapped up in bandages, hands resting on your lap.

“Y/n...” he murmured. You remained still, staring out the window. Bakugou cleared his throat, and you still didn’t react.

“They can’t hear you, remember?” RG shook her head, waddling over to the other side of your bed, pointing at Bakugou. He watched your face slowly turn, before his eyes shot away from you, staring at the ground.

He heard you swallow, and you let out a soft whimper.

Were you scared of him?

Bakugou lifted the whiteboard, quickly scribbling some kanji on it 

ごめんなさい (Translation: I am sorry)

You reached forward, taking the whiteboard from him and erasing his words, putting your own down instead.

分かってる。(Translation: I know)

Bakugou pursed his lips, fidgeting with his shirt before he watched you put more writing down

どうして？(Translation: Why?)

Bakugou reached out, taking the whiteboard back, quickly putting down his excuse explanation

私は弱いと感じました。 じゃあ霧島を助けてくれたんだ。 うらやましくなってきた (Translation: I felt weak. Then you helped Kirishima. I got Jealous)

お許しください (Translation: Please forgive me.)

He handed you the whiteboard back, tapping his foot against the ground. You passed it back to him, and he hurridly read your response.

私はそれについて考えます (Translation: I’ll think about it.)

He had a chance. His eyes finally lifted off the whiteboard, landing on you.

The visible part of your face looked exactly the same, although there was a large bandage on your ear. Your eye looked sad, fearful, and nervous. You had a shaky smile on your face, trying to make him feel better.

You were always thinking about him.

それは再び起こらないだろう (Translation: It won’t happen again)

You sighed, smile falling.

本気？(Translation: Are you sure?)

Bakugou felt his heart drop into his stomach.

Well of fucking course you didn’t trust him, look what he’d done to you!

おっしゃる通りです。. もうお前を放っておいてやる さようなら、y/n。(Translation: You are right. I will leave you alone now. Goodbye, y/n.)

He stood up, leaving the whiteboard on your bed. He headed towards the door, with his hands stuffed into his pockets. He ignored the soft cry of your voice, surprised he was leaving.

He ignored the way you managed to choke out his name in a warbly, unsure voice.

He slid the door shut behind him, slumping against it and sliding down until he sat on the cold ground. He buried his face into his arms, finally allowing himself to cry.

He wasn’t going to try and talk to you, he resolved. He wasn’t going to bother you or scare you.

He’d keep you safe by refusing to talk to him.

He’d let the author end the fanfiction right then and there.

The door slid open behind him, and he flopped backwards, staring up at your face. You were holding the whiteboard.

オマンコにならないでください。 事故だったのは分かってる 頑張って俺を捕まえるのか諦めるのか? どんなヒーローがあきらめるだろうか？

(Translation: Don't be a pussy. I know it was an accident. Are you going to work hard and get me or give up? What kind of hero would just give up?)

A smirk slowly spread across his face. Yeah, he’d work hard. He’d never scare you or hurt you again. He’d do better.

He’d be the best boyfriend.

And he’d accept your help to stand up next to you.

=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=~=

After fic note: ohmygod I’m finally finished. This took fucking forever. You loved part one so much, I had to make sure part two was perfect.

Some of these ended in heartbreak

Another ended in a questionable descision

The last ended happily

All of them are different! 

I hope you get my references, and appreciate the Japanese Kanji I put in Bakugou’s part (if any of it is inaccurate, please let me know so I can try my best to fix it. I don’t speak or write Japanese, I used this translator to get what I needed). 

I worked hard on this, so if y’all could tell me what you like and dislike about this so I can improve my writing, that would be lovely. Don’t be afraid to pop a comment or pop into my ask box, I do my best to respond to every comment and ask, so don’t worry about being ignored.

I love all of you, and I’m so glad to be able to write for you.

Thanks for all of your support, I promise I’ll work hard on all of my drafts to make sure you get entertainment constantly! 

[of-a-chaotic-mind]

Curiosity Part 3 (Final)

Summary: Colby explains his situation to Reader and asks her to be his.

TW/CW: Mentions of murder, vampires, mentions of Reader being held at knifepoint, Mafia/Vampire!Colby Brock x Reader.

Requested?: No

A/N: I'm not gonna continue this series because after reading back through it, not only am I not 100% in love with it but I'm not sure how to continue it.

Part 1 || Part 2

(Y/N)’s POV

Staring at the floor under my feet, I attempt to wrap my head around the events that had just happened. In only a handful of minutes, I had been held at knifepoint, rescued by Colby, and then shocked when my attacker dropped dead at the sniper shot of Jake. I rake my hands through my hair before declaring, “I’m dreaming. I have to be fucking dreaming.” I look around at the silent bar. A few feet away, Colby, Jake, and Sam stand watching me. I bite the inside of my cheek as hard as I can but unfortunately, it hurts like a motherfucker and I am, in fact, not dreaming.

Colby and Sam look at Jake, fury plain as day on their faces. Jake shrugs, “Listen… indirectly it was either him or her because if I hadn’t shot him, he would’ve killed you and then her as well.”

Colby clenches his jaw, but Sam is the one who responds, “Not only did you out us to (Y/N) but now we probably will have a turf war on our hands before long.”

Colby locks eyes with me as Jake attempts to defend himself, “How are they gonna know it was us? Huh? No cameras, I checked beforehand.”

Not breaking eye contact, Colby holds his hand against Sam’s chest who attempts to launch himself at Jake exclaiming, “You etch your fucking signature symbol into your god dang bullets dumbass!”

Jake snaps his mouth shut before looking down at his feet, “Shit…”

Colby approaches me now, slowly as if he’s afraid he’ll scare me off, which he might, that’s yet to be determined. What am I saying? I definitely should be getting the hell out of here. I just witnessed a murder, not to mention the fucking zipping around in the blink of an eye means there’s definitely something off about these three. Yet, despite my better judgment I stay glued to my spot.

Colby stops right in front of me and once again makes my heart flutter as he lifts my chin with his thumb and pointer finger, “What are you thinking, Sweetheart?”

I swallow thickly before replying, “Honestly? I’m thinking I should get the hell out of here.”

“Then why don’t you?” Colby whispers, staring into my soul.

“I don’t know,” I admit, “A good mystery always has been my biggest weakness.”

He grins at this, “Where’s the mystery here?” He inquires, already knowing the answer.

I roll my eyes at him, “You’ve got to be shitting me,” I pull away from him and take a seat at the bar. Dropping my head into my hands, I tug at my hair still trying to make sense of the situation I’ve gotten myself into. “Let’s start with why the hell are there a bunch of people hanging out in this fuckin’ speakeasy out of a mafia movie? Or how about what the hell are you up tied with,” I accentuate my sentence by pointing at Colby, “that a strange creep in an alleyway knows and is afraid of you? Let’s not forget that your friend here shot the aforementioned creep and then in the blink of an eye I’m here which I happen to know is a good twenty-minute walk from that alley.”

Colby sighs, waving at Sam and Jake to leave before taking a seat beside me, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Fucking try me because, at this point, I’ve lost all sense of reality,” I challenge.

Colby chuckles before finding my eyes once more, “Me and my friends are vampires but to everyone else in the city we’re just a mafia mob type organization. The man Jake shot tonight was part of Red Gang who is our biggest turf rival and you live smack dab in the middle of their turf.”

“Okay… so I might have fallen for the head of a vampire mob… got it,” I mumble to myself.

“You know being a vampire means I heard that right,” Colby states humorously causing my heart to jump, “I also heard that,” he laughs flicking his eyes to my chest and back to my eyes.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” I question accusingly.

“And you’ll be the death of me,” he responds reaching up to brush hair behind my ear.

I’m now keenly aware of how close we are, “That’s- That’s not possible. Aren’t vampires supposed to be immortal?”

I notice Colby’s eyes flick to my lips and back again before shrugging, “Everything and everyone has their weakness. Your’s is a good mystery. Mine just might be you.”

I find myself leaning closer, so close our lips brush against each other as I say, “I can’t just… I have a life. I have friends and family…”

“We can play normal. However, I don’t see any point in you keeping that shitty job or crappy-ass apartment when I can easily take care of you,” he states, now staring hard at my lips. His eyes make their way back to mine, “You can’t tell me you don’t want this.”

“You’re right, I can’t,” I agree before finally closing the distance and kissing him. His lips fit perfectly with mine as I run my hands through his hair, tugging slightly upon reaching the back of his neck. He groans softly, reaching to pick me up and place me on the bar. Before long, we begrudgingly part for air.

He rubs his hands up and down my sides and hips, “You’re mine now?” He mutters. I nod before returning to kissing him. This time I pour every ounce of feeling I can into the kiss and I can feel him do the same. The air is full of passion and need. In the back of my mind, my thoughts call me crazy once again but I shove them away and lose myself in the man before me.

Masterlist

[falling-pages]

Bend the Knee: Kyoya x Reader

Thanks @ouranbound for the idea <3

-

“I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present."

-

Sometimes Kyoya's betrothed needs help adjusting from their commoner life to one of splendor.

-

Kyoya Ootori x gn! Reader

Genre: Fluff, established relationship, arranged marriage, Commoner! Reader

Warnings: None

-

“Quit.”

“What?”

“Quit. You complain about that job every night, so just resign.”

You sit up on the couch, gasping to even begin to make the young heir understand how preposterous his words were. He barely even noticed, just kept his eyes glued to his novel as you were having a crisis. Just another normal Tuesday in this household. “I can’t quit just like that, without two weeks’ notice.”

“The other employees did.”

“But I’m their best,” you scramble, “I can’t bail while they’re still looking for two more people.”

Kyoya scoffed, licking his fingertip and turning a page. “Is that how they treat their best? Overworked and underpaid? They don’t sound like very good bosses to me.”

“It’s not that, it’s…”

It was that. It was exactly that, which made his smug smile all the more frustrating, igniting that fire under your nails to just punch his lights out. But then you’d have to admit it’s bothering you, and he would win, and even though you were engaged to marry this man, you just couldn’t have that.

You ran your hands through your hair, dropping back down onto the couch. His office futon wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, perhaps to discourage relaxation during work hours, but it’s what you dealt with in order to spend time with him in the evenings, a change you would certainly implement once your name was on the deed and in the will--a revamp of his working space was imperative.

But you supposed you couldn’t complain. It was your little life together, where he manages a multi-billion dollar empire and you whine about your job, where he pretends to not pay attention while you spill your guts. What was the sense in commenting when he knew you wouldn’t take his advice?

“I’ve worked hard for this position,” you settle on, closing your eyes and letting your brain do the work. “I’ve climbed the ladder and gotten promotions and I used to feel so important, and it isn’t my dream job, sure, but I’ve enjoyed the process.”

“Then it’s time to move on to something different,” he suggests, and his tone is softer than usual, though still careful to sound detached. “You know I have more than enough money to provide for you and our family someday. Is that not enough?”

You open your eyes when the voice sounds closer, right above you, and you see him kneeling down beside you on the couch. You start to sit up, but he pushes you back down, helping you stretch out your spine, shake out the stresses in your limbs. And when he takes your hand, drawing his long fingers over the arch of your wrist and against your palm, you were startled to see him at eye-level.

Kyoya Ootori bent his knee to no one except you, and only once, when he slipped that pretty gold ring on your finger. But here where you lay, your faces were on the same level, and you felt like an equal.

“The world I come from isn’t black and white, Kyoya,” you say, as he strokes the back of your knuckles. Such tenderness was seldom seen from him, but you revel in it, grasp onto it with dirty fists and brazen recklessness. To have him so attentive to your needs and listening to you was rare. It was a privilege, a standard you would soon be held to, as well. “To be just...launched into fame because my dad won the lottery is hard, I still need to adjust. It can all be gone in a second, so I can’t just drop something. I can’t...sever the safety net. They need me to keep the place afloat, and even as tough as it has been, I can’t leave on such bad terms. They need me. Just for a little bit longer.”

He sighs your name like the afterthought of a prayer, settling his other hand beside you on the couch. His fingers dig into every indentation, as if joining your discovery of its stiff cushions. The sheen in his glasses signaled he’d look into it, but there were more pressing matters to attend to at the moment.

He remained silent, odd for a man with all the answers, but he continued to look at you, not like he was trying to drill a hole through your head, but like you were a puzzle he was just beginning to figure out.

“Have I really been so absent, my love?” he whispered, raising his hand to your face. One finger stroked along your cheek, slowly, lulling you into peace. “I fear I’ve been so busy planning our future that I did not give time to notice how they were exploiting your present. Please, forgive me.”

All of the air was knocked out of your chest as his gentle words, so soft that you almost didn’t recognize him. When your parents betrothed you, and when you fell in love with him, agreed to marry him, even, you knew that he would always be an Ootori, with every string attached. You were ready for the challenge, ready to be with this man no matter what--but his sudden kindness was unexpected, the poetic words unfamiliar in your ears.

“Kyo, you think I wouldn’t forgive you?” you ask, taking off his glasses.

He let you, and when you set them on the nearby stand, his dark eyes glittered with something you had never seen before. Deeper than love, deeper than compassion, a feral protectiveness mixed with sadness skating across his face. It was so rare you saw him without this shield of his, you had almost forgotten how his eyes were like galaxies, like the murky night sky, expansive, swallowing everything in its path.

“If I had been suffering so, I wouldn’t forgive my partner had they not noticed,” he said.

“I’m not suffering...”

“Mmm-mm.” He shuttered your lips closed with his finger, and you couldn’t help but return the affection and press a kiss to it. He smiled, softly, and you thought about how long it had been since you had seen that smile, and how long it had been since he’s seen yours, too.

“I know I’m not the best at expressing my feelings,” he said, and when you snorted, he rolled his eyes and leaned away. “See, this is exactly why.”

You leaned up and kissed his cheek, giggling. The feeling was foreign in the pit of your chest, drumming near your spine. “I’m sorry. Please, continue.”

“Thank you.” He cleared his throat, softly wiping where you had kissed him, a repetitive, soothing motion. “I’m not the best at expressing my feelings. I’ve been raised to think that if you throw money at something, it will go away. It’s a powerful position to hold, knowing you can change everyone’s fates on a whim, but…” he swallowed, breaking eye contact, and you felt his energy shift into something vulnerable. “But you changed that. You make me feel...you make me feel. And at first I didn’t like it. I loved you, but I didn’t like what you did to me. I didn’t like how you made my world shift off-balance, until I realized my world was no longer my family’s company or stocks or what other stiffs thought of me. It was you.”

You tried to lean up and kiss him, but he grabbed your hands and held them in his own. “Please, let me finish, I want...I want you to know. We’ve been betrothed for so long, but I’d like to think we were only truly engaged when I bowed to you with that ring.”

“Okay,” you breathed, shallowly, taking it in, squeezing his hands to help him along.

“Because that took everything in me,” he continued, and his voice shook, his hands shook, and all you wanted was to gather him in your arms and hold him till he relaxed. “I was raised as a superior, but I’m not. Not with you. You are my equal, and I love you, and there’s no future with us if I can’t look beyond my own problems to see yours.”

Your stomach quelled in light of his confession. The life of luxury and fame you had so recently come to know was a blur compared to his childhood swathed in privilege. Only six years ago you were waiting tables to save up for college when your dad bought a lottery ticket for the hell of it. Now you were attending charity balls and engaged to the son of the richest man on earth.

He took a shaky breath and kissed your forehead, seeming to only find the courage once his lips met your skin.

“I notice. I swear I do,” he said. “I tried to act disinterested when you vent to me because it was a protection, it was a way to stay cold, because that was all I ever saw from my mother and father. They were separate people who happened to live in the same house. That’s not us. I’m not my father. I swear I notice. I notice your tired eyes and your tense shoulders and your fake smile and I want to fix it, but I don’t know how, so I clam up. I shut down. And I’m sorry. I truly am, my darling. I don’t know how you put up with me.”

It was an absolute miracle that you could even breathe at the end of his speech, panting almost as heavily as he was. And when you leaned forward to kiss him, this time he didn’t object, but pulled you even closer, shrouding your body with his, his sharp scent overwhelming your senses, clouding the air around you, even when there was no distance between you. His mouth was hot with passion, yet reserved, and though it wasn’t the first time you kissed, it was the first time you thought he meant it when he told you he loved you.

“Kyoya, I love you,” you whisper against his lips. “I have for so long. I wouldn’t have stayed with you if I didn’t, no matter what our parents said.” He laughed, nipping your bottom lip lightly. “And I don’t want you to change for me. You’re under so much pressure, I understand why you act like you do. But our home isn’t Wall Street. My heart isn’t some business bargaining chip. You don’t need to fight your nature to love me. It’s one and the same.” One of his tears splashes down onto your face. “So just see me. Love me. Choose to be vulnerable. I promise it won’t scare me off.”

“I will. I promise.”

He kissed you again, burning his brand against your tongue, hard like a handshake to know he meant it. You wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him even closer, like you were breathing the same air, using the same lungs, the same heart beating in tandem.

When you let go, his forehead remained pressed against yours. His eyes were slightly open, watching you, eyelashes fluttering against your skin. He was so soft, like this. You wanted to hold him forever.

“Come to bed with me,” you whisper, trailing a hand through his hair. “I just want to spend time with you.”

He kissed your forehead, rubbing his nose against yours in compliance. “I’ll spend all the time in the world with you, beloved,” he sighed, capturing your lips once more. “For as long as you’ll have me.”

-

Kofi

[thebluewritingbench]

10) “Please, for the love of god, do not explain any of what I’m seeing.”

I feel like there could be a lot good comedic dialogue with this one.

I’ve enjoyed your Supercorp stories so far ❤️

thank you!! here have some more fluff: this is disgust #10 from these dialogue prompts

"Please, for the love of god, do not explain any of what I'm seeing."

“Your Monopoly set is cursed.”

Lena glares at the board, currently filled with houses and hotels, abandoned pieces still spaced around the edges. She’s sitting on the floor, leaning against the couch instead of sitting on it and looking disgruntled. Her nose is scrunched in disgust, and Kara kind of wants to reach over and boop it.

Instead, she leans back on her hands and grins at Lena. “I don’t think the fact that you lost means it’s cursed.”

Laughter rings out loudly from the kitchen, and Kara catches Nia’s cackle above the rest. It’s the tail end of game night, the point where the games are starting to be forgotten halfway through and abandoned in favour of fervent drunk rants and trips to the kitchen for more snacks. Right now, Kara can hear Nia trying to convince the others to climb out the fire escape and up to the roof.

It’s just her and Lena left in the living room now, and Kara’s had enough aldebaran rum and coke that everything is a little fuzzy around the edges.

Lena falls forwards slightly, like she’s tilting on her axis. She’s a lot floppier when she’s drunk. “I think that’s exactly what it means,” she says. “I always win Monopoly. I am the queen of Monopoly. I do not go bankrupt.”

“You did in this game,” Kara laughs, catching her hands. Lena beams at her, forgetting to be irritated for a moment before she quickly overcompensates with an expression that’s far too serious to be believable.

“Because it’s cursed,” she says.

“Because Alex beat you.”

Lena gasps. “Alex cursed Monopoly.”

“Alex did not curse Monopoly,” says Kara, swatting at her. Lena laughs and swats her back, so they’re hitting each other’s hands as she talks. “There were just a lot of us and you had bad luck this time.”

“Like I said, cursed!”

There’s the sound of a window opening and closing, and the chatter in the kitchen swells and fades slightly. Nia must have convinced everyone to go up to the roof. Kara cranes her neck to try and see if there’s anyone still left in the kitchen.

“Stupid Monopoly,” Lena mutters, mostly to herself. “Fuck Monopoly.” And just as Kara’s turning back to look at her, she reaches out and hits the board off the table, sending cards and plastic pieces flying.

“Lena!” says Kara.

Lena does not have the grace to look abashed. In fact, she looks quite pleased with herself, like a cat who just knocked something over.

“You can’t just knock over the Monopoly,” says Kara, scraping up handfuls of little plastic houses and hotels from the carpet. “What if we wanted to keep playing?”

“Oh, pfft,” says Lena, unbothered, flipping dark hair away from her face. “Everyone’s too drunk to play now anyways. We weren’t going to keep playing.”

“You don’t know that.” Kara plucks a Monopoly house from her palm and throws it at Lena. It bounces off her forehead, and Lena’s jaw drops in a comical exaggeration of betrayal.

“Did you just throw a hotel at me?”

“It was a house, actually,” says Kara, picking another one to throw. This one bounces off Lena’s cheekbone. “That was a hotel.”

“You did not just do that.” Lena leans across the table and snatches a stack of Monopoly money, then launches it in Kara’s direction. It flutters down over the table and carpet. A bill brushes Kara’s ear. One lands on Lena’s head.

“That’s paper, it’s not going to do anything.”

“Don’t test me,” says Lena, scrambling out from behind the coffee table and grabbing the rest of the stack of money. She flicks it off her hand, a few bills at a time, sending a rain of multicoloured money over Kara and scattering the once tidy piles across the floor. The bills slide under the couch and TV. Kara chokes out stop between her laughter, still tossing tiny houses and game pieces at Lena.

There’s a bowl of gummy bears on the table, and when Kara runs out of Monopoly pieces, she reaches for a handful of those and starts throwing them at Lena instead. Lena’s moved on to throwing the cards at her, and it’s really going to be a bitch to pick it all up tomorrow, but Kara’s laughing too hard to care. Lena’s cackling, and she stumbles to the side and crashes into the coffee table, knocking over the remaining Jenga tower as she goes down. It only makes them both laugh harder.

Popcorn. The bowl of popcorn on the couch still hasn’t been knocked over, so Kara grabs a fistful of that and throws it. It’s better than the gummy bears, it sticks in Lena’s hair and falls down her blouse.

Having finally exhausted the contents of Monopoly, Lena reaches for her own handfuls of popcorn and gummy bears. “Take that,” she says, alternating between throwing the two snacks at Kara. “And that.” A gummy bear lands in Kara’s mouth. A piece of popcorn hits her eye.

Hiccupping back her laughter, Kara reaches blindly across the table for her drink, and without really thinking about it, flicks her wrist and tosses the entire contents directly at Lena’s face.

Everything freezes. Lena looks stunned, blinking rum and coke from her eyes. Amber liquid drips from her chin, her hair.

Kara, eyes wide, only manages, “Oh my god, Lena, I am so—” before Lena’s vodka soda is hitting her in the face. She gasps, inhaling a mouthful down her windpipe. Lena looks far too smug when she finally manages to stop coughing, and some instinct in Kara must take over because she lunges forwards and tackles Lena to the carpet.

Lena shrieks and laughs and squirms, and Kara pins both her hands above her head with one hand, sitting on her knees to straddle Lena’s waist. Instinct still driving her, she leans forwards and licks a wet strip up Lena’s cheek.

When she sits back again, Lena has stopped squirming and is staring up at her, utterly bemused. “Did you just lick me?”

“You’re covered in aldebaran rum and coke,” Kara grins. “Wouldn’t want it to go to waste. It’s expensive stuff, Lena.”

“Oh, so you’re trying to drink me.”

Kara shrugs. “Drink, eat, whatever.”

She’s basically sitting over Lena’s middle, which means she feels the way Lena’s stomach jerks slightly against her pelvis in a sharp inhale. Feels the way Lena tenses, like every muscle in her body has gone taut. Lena swallows, licks her lips nervously, which of course brings Kara’s full attention to her mouth.

Her lips are so pink, and so pretty and plush, and she suddenly looks so kissable it’s unbearable. It feels like Kara has to kiss her, like it’s a physical compulsion. She takes Lena’s chin in her free hand, squishing her cheeks slightly as Lena stares at her, and whispers, “Wait, wait, wait.”

Then, very gently, softly, quickly, she presses her lips to Lena’s.

Lena blinks at her, eyelashes fluttering, when she pulls away. There’s a long silence where she searches Kara’s eyes before she says, voice low, “Again?”

Kara leans forwards and presses a second experimental kiss to Lena’s lips. She lingers a moment longer than the first one, then pulls back an inch, still holding Lena’s hands fast above her head.

“Yes?” she whispers.

Lena nods, like she can’t quite remember how to speak. Then she says, “More.”

When Kara kisses her for a third time, her lips are already parted slightly, and they slot easily between Kara’s.

They’re so soft.

She tastes like vodka soda and gummy bears, and it’s almost more than Kara’s drunk brain can process at once; Lena’s warm body pressed to hers, her slim wrists in Kara’s hand, the softness of her lips, the taste of her mouth, the slick brush of her tongue. She loses herself in it, forgets time, forgets how they got here, forgets everything but Lena.

It’s finally quiet after all their shrieking and laugher, just the sound of their lips melding together. Kara’s not sure how long they’ve been kissing—perhaps a minute, perhaps a lifetime—when someone clears their throat loudly, like they’ve already done it once or twice.

Kara breaks away, and Lena makes a small protesting sound in the back of her throat, a tiny whimper. They both look over Kara’s shoulder at Alex, who’s standing in the doorway looking faintly queasy.

Kara watches her take in the scene: Lena lying on the ground with Kara straddling her waist and pinning her hands above her head, the pile of Monopoly money and pieces that they’re lying in, the gummy bears and popcorn scattered across the floor and in their hair, the drinks that are still dripping from both their furtive, swollen-lipped faces.

Alex opens her mouth, and then presses it closed again.

“You know what,” she says, after a long moment. “I don’t think I want to know. Please, for the love of god, just… do not explain any of what I’m seeing right now.”

Without another word, she turns on her heel and disappears back into the kitchen.

Kara and Lena turn back to each other, still pressed together on the floor, breath uneven. Lena’s flushed, eyes dark, lips parted. She really does look good enough to eat. Her wrists twitch under Kara’s hand.

They stare at each other. Several long seconds tick by. Then, simultaneously, they start laughing.

It’s a long time before they stop.