#the first time i saw the movie and she is given the pin for free by a vendor in the market i saw it as like

[july-19th-club]

honestly the first hunger games movie was really quite good and even the later ones were not THAT awful bad. just watched the scene where she drops the wasps on the careers and i do think it takes some doing to make a nearly two-minute sequence of somebody sawing at a tree branch deadly nerve-wracking

[silverloreleysfanfics]

Real Names in “Descendants“

Here’s a rant + solution about the characters’ names in Descendants.

Who in his right mind could accept Lonnie’s name is just that? Mal makes sense for the explanation we were given, but Evie? Even assuming Ally is short for something, isn’t that’s a weird name? The books have stuff like Herkie, Lil’ Shang, Pin, Tiger Peony, Ginny Gothel and I don’t know how many more and while I get it’s about making them recognizeable as the children of certain characters, I do get it, I still think they’re bad.

So I decided to compile a list of presumable actual names of the Descendants kids, VK and AK alike that anyone could feel free to use in fics.

Two little notes before anything else:

the -son/-dottir patronimics I see sometimes in fics are North European and should be used only in the right context, avoided otherwise. In Ancient Greek the correct suffix is -ides (gender neutral), so Mal wouldn’t be Hadesdottir but Hadeides; similarly, Uma would be Ursulaides, and Ursula Poseidonides and so forth. Despite that, I assume Auradon would want to conform to the habit of fixed family names that is normal in modern Europe, so they’d make everyone adopt one, like Chad Charming, or use the place of origin, like Jordan of Agrabah.

The explanation I have in-universe for some names is that there's an obsession in Auradon with precising who their famous parents/relatives/family friends could be and many kids end up with nicknames tied to that. Either this or because names have power when it comes to magic, so real names are kept secret and known only by the most trusted people, but that wouldn’t get along with how magic works in the movies, nor with the fact Ben and Mal shared their middle names like it was no big deal (but then again, Ben could have a secret third name and Mal didn’t specify her first name is short for Maleficent). The first explanation is easier.

I’ve been working on this list for quite some time. As such, if you use this as reference it’s fine, but I’d like to be told at least, even in a note to this post and given credit if you pick one of my ideas that aren’t mainstream in the fandom.

Also, I may add to/modify this post later on, but without taking into account anything made after Descendants 3.

That said, VKs first:

Mal: we’ve been said Mal is just short for Maleficent and the daughter isn’t allowed to use the full name because she “didn’t deserve it”. Abusive and terrible, yet it fits. But I don’t think Hades would agree and in myths there is a Melinoe who is an Hades’ daughter, so Mal’s full real name could be Maleficent Bertha Melinoe Hadeides or just Melinoe Bertha Hadeides.

Jay: I saw Jayden around and, nope, it doesn’t work for me. Either Jayanth or Jayad (both mean “victorious one”) sound a lot better and more fitting for the general area Aladdin is set in. But, really, this page has tons of names starting with Jay, pick one from there. (also, for a proper surname you should check Arabic onomastic, which is complicated, so just use “of the Isle” or “of Agrabah”, unless you know the subject well. I don’t think Auradonians would bother to learn anyway)

Evie: oh, dear, my poor girl, what an atrocity. It could be short for anything like Evelyn, Evangeline (but the Evil Queen would never choose such a meek name, plus it’s tied to Tiana’s story), Evanna, Evalina, Evisse, all can work, but the one I prefer is Everhilde or Everild, which would call back to the Evil Queen’s real name, Grimhilde. On this note, I suppose Genevieve could work too with the “parent-children with same intials” trend.

Carlos: I already said I find weird he has a Spanish name when Cruella is British, and unless there are some Spanish roots somewhere in the de Vil lineage, his name should have been Charles. But recently I headcanoned his father could be Bruno Madrigal, so the Spanish name could stay (in the books it’s stated his middle name is Oscar, which @dragoneyes618 reminded me was also Bruno’s first-draft name), so, Carlos Oscar de Vil-Madrigal.

Uma: it’s a Hebrew or Hindi name and a weird fit for the granddaughter of Poseidon (yes, I am one of those who agrees Ursula is one of Poseidon’s children and thinks a name meaning “little she-bear” is a tad weird for a sea being). But, after all, Ariel is a Hebrew name too, so Uma fits the Little Mermaid lore and all is well.

The three Hook siblings (Harriet, Harry and Calista Jane) have the most normal and reasonable names of the whole franchise and I won’t dare to change them. Perhaps I’d argue Harriet and Harry are fem/male variants of the same name, but, really, there is worse in the franchise (and I guess, when she made up Harriet, Melissa de la Cruz had no idea they’d later create Harry for the next movies).

Gil: his real name could be Gillaume (variant of Guillaume) or Gilbert. Personally, I prefer the latter (like Gilbert Motier de La Fayette, you know, lol). His brothers’ names, unfortunately, fit with Gaston’s narcissism, so they can stay. The canon surname is LeGume, although I’m not sure where it comes from exactly as it’s never mentioned in either movie or live action as far as I remember.

Freddie: I think Frederique Facilier sounds great and she probably hates it. I read that in a fic but I don’t remember whose, maybe @ginnyrules27 or @hannahhook7744 or @dragoneyes618, feel free to correct me if it’s none of theirs.

Celia: it’s a name in its own good, used in both French and Spanish (fitting for New Orleans’ culture), but if we want, we can consider it short for Cecilia.

Ginny Gothel: assuming Gothel (like Yzma) was able to procreate and Ginny isn’t actually Cassandra’s daughter (I haven’t seen the series though so I don’t know much about her), Ginny is still an abbreviation, usually of Ginevra/Guinevere. I can’t fathom why Gothel’s name became a surname though, I’m at loss here, unless we are supposed to read it as Ginevra Gotheldottir (Rapunzel is a germanic tale, so this kind of patronimic fits), shortened Ginny Gothel.

Dizzy: I wrecked my brain on this. Drusilla or Desdemona. That’s it, that’s the top I could come up with. Drusilla Tremaine-Westergard, in my universe, to be precise.

The only other Tremaine cousin we have a canon name for is Anthony and I think it’s a perfectly fine name. Antoine if we set the story in pseudo-France.

Hadie: Hades had few children in the myths and Zagreus was the one I liked the most, that’s my reasoning. In myths, Zagreus is Persephone’s son but here it could be anyone’s, he’d still keep the Greek patronimic, so Zagreus Hadeides.

Squeaky and Squirmy Smee: those are 100% nicknames, it can’t be otherwise. In fact, in piracy, it’s pretty normal to have nicknames and aliases that are known more than regular names, like Calico Jack, Blackbeard, Big Murph and so on. The twins likely have normal names like Sullivan and Sean or something like that. In fact, their big brother is Sammy, short for Samuel, I assume, so it pretty much supports it.

Mad Maddy: while “mad“ is a mockery/title, Maddy should be short for Magda or Magdalene, but it’s used on its own too, so it’s your pick.

LeFou Deux: stupid name, like so stupid it can’t be real. Let’s pick a normal french name, like Denis LeFou, with the mockery he acts like father, they call him Le Fou Deux aka “twice as stupid”. Kids can be cruel.

Claudine Frollo: unfortunately, it’s an actual French name, but a religious zealot would maybe give her a double name, like Marie-Claudine.

Zevon and Yzla: I don’t know what to say here, I really don’t. Yzla sounds bad, that’s all I can say (but I admit Zevon has a nice ring). I accept suggestions.

AKs:

Lil’ Shang: first thing first, in China (and other Eastern countries) surnames come before names. So Li=surname Shang=name. Cleared that up, this name makes sense only as a nickname (which I hate). If we want it to start with S and an assonance with his father’s, we could pick Sheng (victory) or Shuang (clear and bright).

Lonnie: Lanying, which, mispronunciated, became Lonnie, it would make sense if said by kids first. (Fun fact: irl Lin Lanying was the name of a scientist, there’s also a Guo Lanying who is a soprano, both great women).

Herkie: oh, don’t make me start with this. This is one of the atrocious names that are clearly rip-offs of the parent’s names and I hate that. Hercules had lots and lots of children in the myths, from Megara in particular he had four: Therimachus, Creontiades, Ophitus and Deicoon. Pick whatever you prefer, I am partial to Therimachus, too difficult for Auradonians to enunciate, they started to call him Herkie as a nickname that stuck.

Tiger Peony: I’m certain I’m not the first who thinks a name like this is, like, the epitome of disrespectful. For the same reason, I admit I know nothing of the subject and ask if someone could tell what an appropriate name for her could be.

Ally: Allison Liddel (original Alice’s surname) or Kingsley (live action surname). Or another surname if she took her father’s (I am partial to the Tim Burton movies and ship Alice and the Hatter, so Allison Hightopp, but that’s just me).

Jordan: Joodah (or Joudah) meaning “generous“ or “of high qualities“ (as far as I could find, please feel free to correct me).

Artie: don’t ask me where I took it from, but in my head his full name is Arnault Pendragon (and he isn’t Guinevere’s son as Disney’s Arthur married another woman under the advice of Merlin, but this is all my headcanon).

Pin: Pinocchio’s son. Now, in Italy it is traditional to name children after parents or grandparents (I have one uncle and 5 cousins all named after my maternal grandfather and other 4 cousins after my grandmother, to say nothing of the ones who have them as middle names), so it wouldn’t be weird BUT! we don’t have names without final vowels, especially first names, in Italian, so he’d be called Pino. Which is also short for Giuseppe (Giuseppino) and I much prefer that (if they wanted to use Geppetto’s name it would have made sense too, and that he would have been nicknamed Geppettino > Tino).

Now, for the dwarves’ sons I picked German names with the same initials:

“Doc II” Dominic;

“Hap” Harold;

“Cheerful” Klemens;

“Gesundheit”/“Gus” Gustav;

“Bash” Bastian;

“Shy” Silas;

“Crabby” Conrad;

“Sleepy jr” Simon;

“Snoozy” Samuel.

Doug and Gordon are normal names and can stay.

Ruby and Anxelin Fitzherbert: I’m not even sure from where we got those names from for Rapunzel’s daughters, I seem to recall Ruby mentioned in Wicked World, maybe? Anyway, I don’t like either name. Anxelin is the name of a wine, that’s a very strange choice, and Ruby, uh, is too generic, I guess? There are so many german names to pick from, if we want to follow the pattern of same initial as the parents! Renate, Rayna, Reinheld, Richel, Roslin, Rowena... then Engelbertha, Eda, Erika, Evonne, Edith,... Just research a bit. If we really want to keep the original ones, Anxelin could be a deformation of something like Annegret or Analise, and Ruby could stand for Ruperta or Ruomhildi, although I prefer to call them Annika (same initials as Queen Arianna, Rapunzel’s real mother) and Roslin.

Opal: daughter of Mama Odie (what is it with those super-old women having teenage kids?!) can be Opal of the Bayou, I suppose. It has a nice ring, actually, although I don’t know what tie opal stones may have with voodoo.

Bobby Hood: usually, Bobby is short for Robert, which fits the area and the pattern. Robin is, at times, short for Robert, but I don’t think it’s the case here. The surname Locksley was discarded by Robin, provided it existed in the Disneyverse, but it’s worth remembering it.

This post will possibly be corrected expanded in the future and I appreciate further discussion, as long as all parties are respectful and thoughtful.

[video-killed-the-radio-host]

Station Management, Explained

Cecil stands in his booth, eyes wide behind the thick purple frames of his glasses. The building stands deathly still for the first time since…ever. There wasn't the inhuman growling nor the heavy movement that causes the windows to rattle.

They're…gone. Station Management is gone. No. They've left before, on their dates with City Council. This is different. They're gone. Forever.

A sharp, smart sounding knock brings Cecil out of his thoughts. He turns slowly, his movements feeling sluggish. He opens the door, unsure when he crossed the room. On the other side of the heavy wooden door is the woman responsible for this. Janet Lubelle.

Janet is smiling like a woman proud of herself. "Cecil!" She says, still grinning.

Cecil stares at her, his hand limp on the doorknob.

"I talked to your boss-er- boss…es? I'm not entirely sure how you address it." Not waiting for a response, Janet continues. "It turns out, they aren't actually real. They're just a figment of fear." She spreads her arms. "You're free. You're welcome."

Free. This isn't what I wanted. Cecil's hand on the doorknob tightened. "You killed them." His voice was surprisingly steady.

"Cecil, you can't kill what never existed. And-" She put a finger in the air. "From what I know of my short time in this town, your interns and yourself were scared of it. Honestly you should thank me."

"Thank you?" Cecil barks a dry laugh.

"You're welcome." Janet plants her hands on her hips. "I knew-"

Cecil cuts her off. "You killed a member of our town. Again. How many people do you need to kill to be satisfied?"

"Cecil, you're being ridiculous. A rock and a cloud aren't people. I just made it so other people could see that. Pulled the wool if you will."

I absolutely will not. Cecil balls his fists, feeling his nails bit into his palms. The next thing he knows, he has Janet pinned to the now still wall. His hands tighten around the short woman's throat. Her yell of surprise doesn't reach his ears.

Now Cecil isn't a particularly strong man most of the time, so later, as he recounts these events, it would be chalked up to adrenaline. “You’ve come here uninvited and done nothing but mess things up.”

Blunt nails scratch at Cecil’s wrists. “C-cecil. Let go.”

“You don’t deserve mercy. You are destroying my town.” Cecil’s hands tighten, causing her face to turn an angry red color.

Janet’s eyes flick past Cecil’s shoulder and a sudden warm hand on his shoulder makes him hesitate.

"Cecil stop." Carlos' warm voice in his ear makes Cecil jump.

"No. No, I should just finish it. No one would blame me. I probably won't even get in trouble. She can't hurt anyone else if-"

"Cecil. Love of my life." Carlos' hand moves down to wrap around Cecil's bony wrists. "This isn't who you are. Don't bring yourself down to her level." Carlos rubs his thumb into the back of Cecil's hand. "You don't want her blood on your hands. You're a better person than that."

Am I though? Cecil stares at Janet, who was still struggling-though much weaker now- against Cecil's hands. As much as Cecil despised Janet's existence, he zeros in on that spark of fear in her eyes. It's the same fear new interns have when they're given their first assignment. Fear of the unknown and the morbid curiosity to find out how it'll kill them. He then noticed his own reflection in her glasses. He didn't like what he saw. He takes a deep breath and let's go.

Color rushes back into Janet's face and Cecil takes a few shaking steps back, colliding with Carlos' chest. Carlos doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms protectively around Cecil's middle.

Janet smoothes her shirt and fixes her glasses. "Well then, Mr. Palmer. I can't wait to dutifully unravel every single mystery in this horror movie of a town and when that's all said and done-" she jabs him in the chest with her finger. "I'm going to take my time unraveling you."

[imaginesmai]

heyy, thank you for answering the request!💜sending it again: I want to request a quarantine angst imagine with tom, something like the reader is alone in her apartment, while Tom is staying in his with the boys, so she is calling him constantly because she feels lonely and the boys start teasing, so he starts to treat reader differently and someday when he thinks the call is over he says she’s clingy or something, reader hear what he said, feel awfully and stops talking to him

This doesn’t come late, this comes completely out of time. I needed a time out of Tumblr, because I didn’t enjoy writing anymore. Hope you enjoy this! I changed it a bit since we’re not longer in complete lockdown, but it has the same basic plot! 

Oceans between us

You waited patiently as Tom finished his conversation with Harry, who had just appeared through the corner of your call and had taken your boyfriend’s attention away. It was an important conversation, you could understand so much, because Tom had muted himself while they talked so you couldn’t hear what they were saying. You were okay with it, really, because you understood that in his line of work he had to keep some stuff hidden until the movies came out. And you had had your fair share of early spoilers from him to accept it.

The problem was that minutes were tickling, and now there was another person in the room – a boy you hadn’t met before, that was laughing behind Tom. It seemed that, whatever they were talking about, was funny.

“Tom?” you tried again in a small voice, not feeling like continuing the call anymore. You looked at the time above the screen – ten minutes since he muted himself.

Either he had turned off the sound, or he ignored you.

In a burst of irritation, you left the couch and went over to the kitchen, your dog following you close. He sniffed your legs and sat while you took a glass of water and leaned against the sink – if he wanted to talk to you again, you could hear it from there. Manchee, the adorable puppy you had gotten a year ago, seemed to catch that there was something wrong with his owner, so he rubbed his nose against your bare leg.

“It’s fine. We talked this morning, it’s not like I haven’t seen him for days” you smiled at him, trying to get yourself to believe your words. “Besides, he has every right to be busy too. Not his fault that I’m stuck”

But it wasn’t your fault, either. One of your classmates in college had tested positive in covid almost a month ago. Your class had been sent home the next day, and you had been quarantined for 15 days – but the quarantine passed, and the classes remained online because the situation in your country got worse, which meant you could only go out grocery shopping, go the doctor in case of need or to work if you were a essential worked. Since the two last situations weren’t given, you were stuck in your small, rented apartment, going out only once a day to take your dog for a short walk.

The first days were hard, and now it had only gotten worse. You were bored out of your mind, tired and sick of being inside. You cried more often than not, and since your family didn’t have the technology to facetime you, the only person you saw beside your reflection in the mirror was your boyfriend. Tom, who was away in another country filming and busy, and who lately seemed to ignore you more often than not.

As expected, because it wasn’t the first time you had to do so, you ended the call, watching a last minute of an empty camera because Tom had left his phone in the room as he went somewhere else.

“We could restart Vampire Diaries”

A bark.

“Watch Mamma Mia? A classic, never grows old”

Another back, this time louder.

“Not a huge fan of me dancing, fine. I respect that – I don’t share it, but alright. Baking?”

More dog noises.

“Of course, you’re up to anything that involves food. When this ends, I’m getting you on a diet. I promise” you said, and you swore Manchee made a protesting noise. “What was that? The greatest showman? You have the best ideas, Manch”

Manchee ran out of the room as you searched for the movie on Netflix, and you didn’t hear him again. As you watched the movie, you kept looking at your phone, hoping to see a message for him and imagining what would it feel like if he called you back. You didn’t want to be a possessive girlfriend, but it hurt when he wasn’t there now that you needed him the most. Rubbing the suspicious wet feeling on your eyes, you put the phone face down and tried to enjoy the movie, even if it was the third time you watched it in a month.

-

As expected, he didn’t call you. You held your pride together and spent the next day giving him radio silence – no calls, no messages, nothing. You took Manchee for a walk, who found a squirrel in the park and made you run behind him. You bought the essentials in the supermarket, that was empty, and went back to an apartment that wasn’t your home. As expected, Manchee ate half of your food when you went to the bathroom, and jumped into the shower when you were it. It seemed that he knew you were having a bad day, so he even cuddled in your lap when you sat down to do some college work.

Wednesday came and left, without talking to Tom. By then, your pride held some deep wounds because Tom hadn’t talked to you again. You had received two messages, a good morning and night, and if he noticed you hadn’t answered, he didn’t care. It was almost night time when you decided to call him. After the second try, you were met with the ceiling of an unknown room and voices you didn’t know.

“ – again. What is she? Three?” someone laughed, but you couldn’t see anything. “My nephew is more independent, and she hasn’t started school yet!”

“Dude, I remember a chick I went on a date with” another deep voice said, and you understood Tom had picked up your call without meaning too. Still thinking what to say, the new person kept talking. “She sent me a message right after I left her in her house. And when I didn’t reply, she called me in the morning. I mean, I know I’m irresistible, but I need space!”

“She’s not usually like this, I swear” Tom chuckled, and you smiled just from hearing his voice. Again, you didn’t have time to say anything because he kept talking. “She’s just… we’ve been away for a while, and Y/N’s country is in lockdown, so she’s bored”

Oh

“That doesn’t give you the right to call you every second of the day, dude! Last week she called you three times. And yesterday you were on the phone with her for a whole hour” the first boy said. You didn’t bother cleaning the gathering tears on your eyes. “She’s way too dependent”

“She’s big clingy, that’s all. We live in different countries, so it’s hard for us. And, I mean, if she – “

“Dude”

You let the phone fall on the couch and you moved out of the camera, barely in time to cover your mouth and cover the sob breaking free. Probably, you were exaggerating, but you felt as if the world was crashing down. Everything was blurry and you breath was stuck in your throat, and you wanted so desperately to dig a hole and die there. Yes, you were clingy. And yes, you called Tom three times a day. But you were alone, away from home and in an awful pandemic situation that could bring anyone down. Before you could move to end the call, the person who had interrupted Tom talked again.

“The phone – you’re on a call”

There was silence, so wide and deep that you could hear a pin drop. And now they could hear the muffled sounds of someone crying. You saw the camera moving from where you were sitting, and you went to hang up before anyone could see that you had heard the conversation – because if there was something worse than getting stepped on, is to know that people have watched it too. T

Tom’s face came into view, wide eyes and open mouth. He looked pale, shocked, and you had barely time to hear the begging of your name before you hang up. The phone rang again, twice. Two facetimes, three calls. Tom kept calling, messaging you, and you lost track of how many times he called you, until you finally turned off the phone.

Manchee came back to the couch, licking the tears out of your face and whining when your body racked with sobs. He looked surprised when the phone went crashing against the wall, but didn’t go after it. Instead, he squeezed himself in the couch beside you, and you cried your hear out.

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[mona-stay]

Secrets part 2 - Peter Hale

Pairing reader x Peter Hale

Warnings, violence, jealously, angst, slow burn, flitty Peter

You take a long breath, thinking that question yourself. After today, Theo’s attitude all you wanted to do was get your stuff and leave. But where would you go. “honestly I’m not sure. I’m gonna see coach use my hand to get out of work. While Theo still here get my stuff and go. The rest I’ll work out later” you say hopeful.

 

“you know you can always come to me if your stuck, we’re still your friends y/n just because Theo was your boyfriend didn’t mean anything changed with us. Yes Stiles was upset but he got over it” she laughed. Giving you a hug. You’d forgotten how forgiving the Mc'Call pack was.

 

Once your hand was strapped up, you both left. “If your free later where all going to Derek’s your more than welcome to come” she offers. You tell her you’ll think about it before going back to work.

 

Coach Finstock took one look at your hand rolling his eyes. “what happened?” he asked.

 

“fight with my ex”  you say watching him laugh. “look any chance I can rest if the day off, we don’t have any practices today and with this hand I won’t be as useful as normal” you ask. To your surprise he agrees and tells you to be in early tomorrow.

 

You got your bag and started walking to the home you shared with Theo. Feeling dread as you turned the key in the door, taking a deep breath you push the door open to get it over with. You try and ignore the memories you both made in this house.

 

Walking in the living room you let the tears fall looking at a photo of you both together. You flip the picture down laying face down. It was over, now you had to do what you came to do, pack up and leave.

 

You started grabbing your stuff from the room, jumping when you hear a voice behind you. “come crawling back” Tracey said with disgust.

 

“No, but after the way Theo begged me to come back today I could if I wanted to” you sass back wanting to know what she was doing here. You had told in a laugh at the look of hate on her face and the stutter nothing.

 

You walk past her to get some of your other things. She turns watching you, you can tell she’s trying to think of a way to get to you. “If he’s so into you, why was he with ME , chose to come to ME have ME bouncing on his cock and not you!” she said smug, each time she said the word me she took a step closer, trying to look intimating.

 

This time you let your held laugh. “oh really, I saw the way he throw you off him. Let me guess the second he walked back after chasing me, he told you to get dressed and get out. Your here now because he’s avoided you and hoping to try and worm your way back in” you tell her.

 

She looks at you with a blank open mouth expression. The realisation hit you “oh my god I’m right, aren’t I.” You laugh.

 

“no” she tries to lie but it’s too late you both know Theo dropped her like she meant nothing.

 

You don’t what came over you, maybe months of feeling the chimera trying to be better than you, pushing you. “what do you think would happen if Theo came home now I told him I was willing to forgive him if he kicks you out if his pack, who do you think he’ll chose, the quick shag he pushed away, or the girlfriend he ran after, cried and begged to take him back?” you couldn’t hide the joy in your face “I think we both know who he would pick”

 

Tracy looked at you for a second, you tried to read the look in her eyes but they were blank. That was until she launched at you. Groaning in pain as the both of you crashed though the coffee table. She held you pinned under her body, and punches you in the face. Dazed and sore everything was a fast blur, you grab the nearest thing a fallen lamp hitting her in the head with it. The rest of the fight was a mix of you both kicking and hitting each other.

 

It was Theo and Cory running through the door that stopped you both. They drag you apart Theo’s voice streaming stop and what’s going on. “ask your little slut, she attacked me”  you yell, holding your face where it hurt.

 

“y/n please, she meant nothing to me” he says moving closer to you. Tracey growling from the corner Cory had her pinned in.

 

You looked at Theo ready to test his loyalty, “really if she means nothing, get rid of her!” you say. A small pause made you fold your arms waiting for his answer.

 

“baby please, she’s nothing just a pack member, I need all the numbers I can get” he tired to plead with you.

 

“I can’t look at you both together without seeing you together so make a choice Theo or I’ll make it for you!” you demand. When he didn’t answer, just mumbles a baby please don’t, you look at him heartbroken “fine!” you say walking upstairs to pack your bag.

 

When you come down Tracy and Cory had gone but you could still see them outside. “y/n don’t go, please you can’t ask me to choose between my pack and you” he pleads. You look trying to find any real emotion in his eyes.

 

“I loved you Theo, I gave up moving abroad with my sister, my friends here. All for you and you can’t give up one pack member for me, you’d never give up your power for me. I know that now, you say you love me but you’ll always love power more. Goodbye Theo, I hope you find what your looking for” you say holding in your tears as you place a final goodbye kiss on his check, walking out with your suitcase before he can stop you.

You drove to the edge of beacon hills preserve, parking the car sitting on the bonnet, finally letting all the held in emotions out. Lost in your own thoughts, was leaving a good idea, should you have given him a second chance or where do you go next. You wasn’t sure how long you’d sat there for, it wasn’t until you notice it was starting to go dark and cold you moved.

 

You thought about Lydia knowing Derek’s wasn’t far away, turning on your engine you decide to go. Outside you looked up at the windows debating whether to go in or call first. Lydia my have invited you but what about the others. Before you had a chance to call, a know on the window spooked you.

 

Peter stood there smiling at you, motioning for you to unlock the door. “well isn’t this a nice surprise seeing you here, I heard you may show up if you left Theo for good”  he says happily getting in the car. You didn’t say anything, when he looks at you his eyes scans your face. “he didn’t that to you did he?” he asks.

 

You shake your head no, “Tracy is responsible for the face n ribs, Theo is only guilty of having a hard head” you say holding up your strapped up wrist.

 

Peter laughed “I heard you gave him one hell of a punch, stiles seems to think if Theo were human you’d of knocked him out” he says with a tone of awe.

 

“thanks I think” you laugh “it felt great at the time, if I’m gonna be honest. Now though part of me regrets it, my hand is killing” you joke.

 

“so you coming up?” he asks about to get out. Your hesitant not sure if your willing to go or not.

 

“I’m not sure, I don’t know if anyone really wants me there, I was really hoping to catch Lydia, she offered me a place to stay, maybe I can till I sort out where I’m gonna go” you say low

 

“I’m hurt sweetheart” he says, placing his hands on his chest “you already have my guest room, I guess you really don’t wanna stay with me” he adds with a fake pout. “just joking but my offer is always there, now come on up, I want you there too maybe you can what ever Si-Fi movie Stiles chooses more bearable” you can’t tell if he’s joking or not at the last part.

 

“okay” you agree, taking one last look in the mirror wiping any make up lines from crying. Peter opened your door, holding out his hand for you. Taking it you step out the car locking it and head to the loft.

 

Inside everyone seemed happy to see you, even Derek gave you a hug saying he’d missed you. You smile catching the small snarl from Peter. Even Stiles wasn’t harsh with you the most sarcastic thing he said was “glad to see you’ve now seen him for what he is”

 

You spent the next hour chilling with the group, stiles put star wars on party annoyed when someone would start talking. Your eyes often drifting to Peter, each time you did his would already be on you. He would pull a face or roll his eyes in a way for just you to see.

 

“y/n, I probably shouldn’t bring this up like this but, have you got somewhere to go tonight or do you wanna stay with me” Lydia asked.

 

You flash a quick look to Peter who’s now paying attention waiting to hear your answer. Wishing your would go home with him.  You smile at Lydia “thanks your too kind but a friend has offered me their guest room for a bit” you say. Not missing the dark and sexy smile Peter gives.

 

After another hour, the movie ended. Scott and Derek were talking about training both not paying attention it had finished. Stiles asks Malia on her opinion of the film, Lydia and Peter both laughing when she asks what it was about still not understanding why he likes it. You noticed Mason and Liam had switched off, trying to talk quite but every now and then you hear Cory and Theo’s names mentioned. Peter comes and stands behind you whispering into your ear “I’m ready to go, you can stay longer if you want”

 

You smile up at him saying to give you a few minutes you’d be ready, you had one thing you needed to do first. Peter nods and heads out the flat. While you walk over to Mason and Liam.

 

“look I know this isn’t my place and I couldn’t help overhearing you before about Cory” you start. Masons shoulders sink as Liam looks defensive by the name. “yes Cory is in Theo’s pack but anything he feels for you is real. And you can trust anything you do or say around him won’t be told.”

 

Liam doesn’t agree “we caught him sneaking around, working for Theo” his smirk begging you for an excuse.

 

You shake your head, “no actually, Theo threatened Cory into spying but when Cory refused to say anything useful he was ordered to do it again but by this point I think Cory had feeling for Mason and told Theo he wouldn’t use Mason for information. It was the first and only time that boy stood up to Theo and that was for him.” You tell Liam.

 

Looking at Mason “it’s up to you but if you like him, go for it. It’s only fear keeping Cory with Theo, remember that” you tell him. Saying bye to the rest of the group you walk out the door catching up with Peter.

 

You follow Peter the short drive to his penthouse, parking next to his Shelby. Peter took your bag carrying it for you. Once inside he let you get settled as he started to cook. Maybe staying here wouldn’t be so bad you thought.

 

It had been two weeks since you moved in and Peter was struggling getting to the stage he couldn’t cope any more. It wasn’t that you were a bat house guest, in fact you were the opposite, you helped cook clean and even picked up shopping. His problem was his own feelings.

 

He couldn’t deal with the way you would walk around in shorts and a vest tops, showing off your legs and cleavage. The easy flirting you both shared, looks smiles winks. The way you would say something suggestive making him ask if you meant it or not. The late night drinks where your fall asleep on his lap and he’d carry you to bed. Most of all he hated putting you in a different bed from his. It wouldn’t have been so bad to just watch you keep telling himself it would never happen but after that kiss last week it’s all he wanted now and had it in his grasp. He hated being a good guy.

 

This morning was no different, Peter walked out of the bathroom wearing just his sweatpants towel drying his damp hair. Something that started driving you crazy, it was hard to tare your eyes from his toned abs.

 

Peter watches as you dance around the kitchen making breakfast. His eyes trail your body loving and hating the coaches outfit you wore. Something about your knee high socks and shorts set his imagination wild. “morning” he says making you turn to look at him. He could help but smirk when he see you eye him up biting your lips as your eyes trail down his chest.

 

“hey” you say “Pancakes?” you offer as you sliding the one you just cooked onto a pile of others. Peter nods coming over to sit by you.  “Are you coming to the game today?” you ask him. It was the first game of the lacrosse session and your first as assistant coach.

 

Peter looked amused “really you think I’d go to a high school sports game, it’s not even basketball. Its much better” he jokes. You knew it was a long shot but maybe with it being a big game for you he might of came. “however maybe I could be persuaded” he adds, with that smirk that makes you weak.

 

Smiling you slide off your stool, coming behind him wrapping your arms around his neck. Letting your fingers brush his chest hair. Moving closer your lips almost touching his ear “well if you do come, maybe I can find a way to show my thanks later” you try to sound seductive.

 

The small growl from Peters chest makes you laugh, you wanted to tease him as much as he did to you. Moving back you let your nose lightly brush against his ear. Once back in your seat “maybe you can tell me your favourite meal ill make it for you” you laughed.

 

Peter was going insane, was she doing this on purpose or if she even knew what she was doing. He shook his head, “such a tease, y/n, I should punish you” he said. Unlike y/n Peter knew what his words did to her and if you want to play games he could too. “do you need to be punished sweetheart”  he asked.

 

You bit your lip hoping he was going to come over and spank your ass, do something to end this unspoken game you both played. You keep eye contact with him as he comes closer, arching an eyebrow waiting for an answer. “you wouldn’t punish me Peter, no matter how naughty I am” you say dragging out punish and naughty.

 

Peter leaned down hovering his lips over yours, his eyes flicked from your eyes to lips and back again. You felt yourself shift in your seat about to move forward to kiss him. Peters smirk changed, his arm reaches around you stealing the last piece of bacon from your plate, putting in his mouth. Giving a laugh as he eat it. Just like Peter you hated the game but wouldn’t play it any other way.

 Seeing as Peter finished your breakfast you get ready for work, saying bye to Peter hoping to him at the game.

You were the first one at the school unlocking the doors hoping the team had improved enough to win. Once coach turned up your day was nonstop, he’d made you pull out the bleachers, check equipment,, direct the away team to their dressing room and now had you listening to one of his locker room speeches.

 

You couldn’t take anymore of his independence day nonsense, leaving the room you headed out to the field. You seen Mason and Cory both making their way out to watch. You smiled seeing them holding hands “hi” you shout jogging to catch up with them.

 

“well you two look happy”  you say. They both give each other shy glances but both beamed a smile at you.

 

“I guess we should thank you” Mason said, Cory looked confused. “y/n told me how you stood up to Theo for me. She said I should give you a chance” Mason filled Cory in.

 

You were about to say your welcome until a dreaded voice filled your ears. Tracy came around the corner making you groan. Since living with Peter you’d put Theo out of your head and being busy with the game you didn’t think about them turning up today.

 

“so you leave and still meddle with our pack, Cory how will Theo feel when he finds out your a turncoat” She said as she stalks towards you. Cory pushes Mason away, warning him with his eyes to find help, not sure what was going to happen.

 

You looked at her wanting to scream and shout but you couldn’t. “Tracy if your here for the game then go find a seat, if not then leave students can’t be wandering the halls” you say as professional as possible. Cory smiles a thanks walking off your follow him hoping your teacher like warning was enough. It wasn’t, Tracy steps in front of you her claws out ready to attack.

 

Mason finds Scott and the others panicking telling him to come quick. Theo watches hearing your name he follows. When Cory runs to them and they all run off, Theo brakes into a run too. When he catches up he sees y/n on the floor, Tracy over her with a bloody nose about to claw at her with Kanima venom. “Tracey! Stop!”  Theo roars making his beta jump of his ex girlfriend.

 

Theo grabs her by the throat holding her against the wall as Scott and Cory help you up off the ground. You wasn’t hurt, well not bad maybe some brushing not that was all. You wanted to go and run at Tracy and Theo not sure who you wanted to hit first.

 

Lucky for you Coach Finstock was in the hall too “what the hell is going on?” he demanded looking at you all. Scott looked at you and everyone else looked at him. You say his name but he stops you “actually don’t want to know, now everyone asses on the field.”

 

Theo pushed Tracey away ordering her to move, Scott ran to the field as the others headed to their seats. You looked at coach about to explain but all he did was tell you to get back to work.

 

The first half of the game went smoothly, BHH were leading but not by much, or at least not enough for coach to be happy. You felt annoyed too, after what happened with Tracy you worried about your job and Peter still hadn’t turned up from what you’d seen, the empty chair next to Malia never filled.

 

To make matters worse, Theo was walking towards you. You turn away hoping he’d just go away, walk past you and not look your way. Luck really wasn’t on your side today, “y/n can we talk I wanna say sorry about Tracy” he says.

 

You sigh “you didn’t tell her to attack me, but you can keep her on a leash and away from me” you say about to walk away, find some excuse to look busy.

 

Theo’s body language changes as you feel an arm come around your shoulder. “hello sweetheart, sorry I’m late” Peter say, not taking his eyes from Theo. You smile, nervous at what he’s doing. “is he bothering you, y/n” Peter asks, pulling you in closer to him.

 

Theo takes a step forward, huffing out his chest trying to look harder. “were working a few things out, can you leave and get your filthy hand off my girl” Theo says.

 

Peter couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t about to let Theo worm his way back in and he couldn’t resist a bit of fun. “What is it with you teenagers? You think that you’re so special? You think you can tell me what to do?” Peter said, leaning in to place a small kiss on your cheek. Really getting under Theo’s skin and yours. You feel the heat rise in your cheeks confused by the whole situation. Peters casual flirting, Theo looking like he’s about to blow.

 

Theo grabbed your wrist dragging you out of Peters gentle hold. “she’s mine” he yelled trying to drag behind him as he squared up to Peter. “go near her and watch” he started to threaten.

 

 “get off me Theo! What the hell are you doing” you scream trying to free yourself. You look at Peter his amused smirk waiting to see what Theo would do next, more importantly what you would do. Once free from his hold “Theo this has to stop, we’re not working anything out we’re over and for good. So just leave me alone”

 

Theo didn’t move at first. His eyes flicking from you to Peter trying to work out what was going on. “so you and him” Theo says in disgust. “this who you’ve been with!”

 

“it’s not like that” you say low. You wasn’t lying but you wish he was right, you wanted a you and Peter. You look at Peter unable to read his poker face. “but even if there was it’s none of your business anymore”

 

Peter played fake hurt “sweetheart you wound me, I thought we had something special” he jokes, making Theo growl his eyes flashing gold.

 

“Peter shut up your not helping” you say seeing Theo’s anger building.

 

“now, now y/n, that’s no way to speak to your alpha now is it” Peter practically purrs.

 

This set Theo off. You imagine it was the word alpha that pushed Theo over the edge. He’d always had a hidden alpha kink the one title he craved. Without warning Theo charged at Peter claws out ripping his V-neck. “your no alpha” and “she’ll never be yours” he shouted.

 

Peter let the young, stupid chimera land his first two or three hits before flashing his own eyes red. Theo looked stunned for a minute letting Peter swipe his claws at the teen. Both of them now had blood on them and if you did do someone one of them most likely Theo would die.

 

You scream for them to stop about 5 times but each one fallen on deaf ears. Your only option was to try and stop them yourself. You wasn’t sure which one of them clawed you, but your cry of pain made them both stop.

 

Theo ran to you asking if you were okay and said sorry over an over. Peter looked down is eyes scanning your injuries, feeling easier when he saw they wasn’t deep. Standing up you look at Theo “No, now just go” was call you could say. Not wanting to argue he did, walking of towards the main gate leaving the school. Vowing to Peter it wasn’t over

 

You look at Peter who’s eyes were back blue. Part of you wanted to ask him what that was all about, why goat Theo into a fight. What was he trying to prove but didn’t have the energy to. You never got a chance the buzzer sounded letting you know the game had restarted. “shit, I gotta go” you tell him running back to work. You would be surprised if you still had a job come Monday.

 

The rest of the game had been trying, both team scoring making the leader bored jumping  back and forth. One of your players taking an injury masking Stiles come on instead. You hated this, five minutes left and both teams drawing. Biting your nail you watch the tean make their play.

 

You jump when you feel a hand come around the back of your waist. He rests his chin on your shoulder his other hand finds your hip. “so do you think the wolfs can pull this off” he said not taking his eyes if the game.

 

You laughed “since when did you care how they play, wasn’t sure you were even gonna come” you say leaning back into his chest.

 

“since you asked me, if I’m going do something I give it my full my attention” he answers in his flirty tone.

 

“you know people will start talking, think somethings going on, if you keep holding me like this”  you say but not wanting him to move. You look around to see if anyone was watching, Hayden was, in fact she was stirring and talking on her phone, no doubt filling Theo in.  “or are you doing this to piss Theo off more”  you laugh.

 

“I couldn’t care less about Theo he’s not worth any more of our time, now he knows ‘who’ I am I doubt he’ll be showing his face again. Also would it be so bad if there was something going on between us?” he asked.

 

You bit your lip, feeling your heart race. Your about to tell him no until the winning goal was scored seconds before the final buzzer sounds. For once your team won, Bobby was shouting you over making you jump out of Peters arms, “hold that thought” you say running off to your boss. Peter watches you frustrated wishing you’d look at him how you had in his living the night he took you home.

 

The stands started to empty, everyone happy with the result. Some of the dumping their sticks to run off and celebrate. Coach ordering you to pack up. “okay” you call back start gathering up equipment to put away.  Peter walks over picking up the lacrosse stick, handing it to you. “guess you still have work to do, I’ll see you later” he says but this he seems off. You couldn’t help but smile he’d actually came to say bye.

 

“your going? I’ll see you at Derek’s right?” you question.

 

Peter nodded, “you seem busy so I’ll leave you too it, I’ll see you after” he says

 

“how about you leave your car at yours we can take mine home. No point both of us driving” you say.

 

Peter smirks “wouldn’t people think something going on of we did” he mocked your words from earlier.

 

You look up “would it be so bad if they did” you say back seeing Peters smile change to a more happier one as he goes to turn. “see you later” you say running the sticks into the locker room telling the team to hurry up and get changed. It took you and Bobby Finstock around two hours to fully kick everyone out and lock up the school.

Theo stood in the car park, leaning against your car. You roll your eyes, after today you couldn’t take anymore of his shit. “so your really choosing him over me” he asked, his arms folded.

 

“I’m not choosing him over you, Theo. I’m choosing not to be with you.” You say honestly.

 

“but he doesn’t love you, I do” he said back hoping you would belive him. “he’s going to use you, hurt you it’s who he is” stepping closer, now starting to scare you a little, you take a breath trying not to let him intimidate you

 

“you don’t know what love is Theo. You might be right, Peter might hurt me, he might not but at the end of the day Theo you already HAVE hurt me. Not just by cheating on me but letting power and your pack be more important than me.” You say trying to open your car door.

 

Theo grabs your throat, pinning you to the car “so you really think I’d just let you leave like that” he roars. You start to panic seeing the crazed look in his eye. “your not gonna walk away and betray me, I’d rather kill you first”. He was now squeezing so hard you couldn’t breath, you vision going burly. “If that doesn’t show love, I don’t know what will” he said. You grabbed his wrists, struggling against his power, kicking your your feet at his shins. The panic was real, you thought you were going to die by Theo's hands. His words drowned out by the ringing of your car alarm. Your vision now completely black, lungs stinging for air, all you wished for was Peter.

 

It was the voice of coach, that made Theo get go. You fell to the floor, gasping for breath. When your vision came back into focus, you saw Bobby pinning Theo against your car.  He asked if you were okay and that Stilinski was on his way, you must have blacked out, not hearing him call for anyone. You nod your okay after getting your breath back and calming down, still refusing to go to the hospital even though Bobby insisted you do. Once the sheriff took Theo away, Bobby asked if you wanted driving home, you kindly refuse getting in your car. Looking at the marks Theo left wondering what your gonna say to the others and how Peter will react.

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

[gayfrenchtoast]

Okay fine we're doing this. I havent read the books and I'm probably not going to I've only seen the movies so I'm sorry if anything I say is contradictory or has already been stated.

So! Descendants 3 was kinda shit and I dont like it but especially because of the ending because everybody was like "oh yeah island is open and we're all happy with no worries or implications about free villains or people being spiteful about being imprisoned for years!" In fact if anything they joked about those things.

The island is basically its own culture, I can't say how long it's been around, long enough for some almost adult kids to be about and to develop a kind of community.

The Isle is a place of poverty, people are dirty and on the street, eveyone steals from each other and most people don't put much effort into appearance upkeep (personal or of the sourounding area) not because of laziness or being "evil" but because they clearly don't have time or luxury to do such things or possibly even the clean water. Does the Isle have clean water?? How to they get electricity??? Someone tell me!

Another thing that I've noticed is easy to see but is not much explicitly said is the unique style of those on the Isle. As previously stated they don't have much but those who have the most "power" and such on the Isle are the best example of this As they have the most colourful outfits. However these outfits are often made out of patches and ripped things put together, even salvaged things like nets and chains as we can see on thing like Uma and Harry's outfits in D3 they make the best of what they've got and they do fantastic because their outfits are intricate and detailed and just tell you everything you need to know about them. Which is why it's a damn s h a m e when the original VK's ajust their style to be more like Auradon's. That's not an improvement! Be proud of where you came from!! It's like they forgot what it was like being on the Isle in D3!

Moving on, here's something that was touched on in D2 but not enough. Equality. On the Isle there is basically equal opportunity as in saying everything is shit and nome cares what gender and presumably what sexuality you are as long as you can work. Sexism is shown to be almost casual in aurodon from the looks of it, Chad makes sexist comments and litterally none else says anything or seems to see anything wrong with it except Jay who caves to pressure from peers and expectations. He does redeem himself because he's from the isle and he knows you shouldn't give a shit about anyone's gender or anything. If they can do something and ask to be included you give them that opportunity. The sexism is also implied in the way that the rule book has men written specifically in the first place and that it has taken until then for anyone but boys to be allowed on any kind of sports team. We never see it! It seems to be the hetronormative veiw where the boys do sport and girls do cheerleeding and other genders? What other genders? Never heard of that? BAD AURADON!! I bet there's so many trans folk on the island just living their lives, thinking Aurodon is the better place and not knowing that it's a cis het filled nightmare.

Okay no I'm headcannoning now, if their are now a bunch of Isle kids at auradon prep they find it fucking aweful the way all these preppy royals are treating them and make the first LGBT club in Auradon. There is lots of pushback and they get bullied a fuck ton for making themselves the most prominent queer folk in the school until a fight breaks out and the club demand that they should be treated better, taking all the evidence to fairy godmother who is very hesitant because COME ON she's never been that great she is biased to Auradon kids and if putting away those in the Isle is brought up she is all on it, she is jelly spined about doing anything against the royal kids. So the kids are like "Fine, if you won't help us we'll take this to the King himself!" Well mainly the queer mom's of the group (you know the ones I'm talking about) who lead the others and protect the anxious queers as they storm to Ben at his fucking locker and demand an audience because they are being harassed and bullied and none is doing anything. Ben had no idea there was even a LGBT club (too busy ig) and is gassed there is one for a moment before he's like "wait people are harassing you?" So Bisexual King Ben gets his lovely Bi wife and they start coming to club meetings and investing in the pins and stuff the club makes. Most club members are pleased but the queer mom's are apprehensive that this will help until some assholes come to the club to do their usual bullying only to find King and Queen Beast themselves siting there with rainbow bracelets and bi pins and all trying to have a nice old time eating their fucking cupcakes what the fuck are yall doing? The bullying dies down quick once they realise it ain't gonna fly, the other OG VK's that hear about this become members and very protective over their queer children. Did I mention Dizzy and Ceila are a part of the club? They're girlfriend's. Celia is one of the queer moms. Harry becomes one of the biggest protectors over the group as the pan dad. He's been going around snogging everyone and anyone wholl snog him everyone already knew he was queer they just didn't have the balls to try and bully him over it as much as they bullied the lil club members. But now Harry can often be seen in jackets and shit with pan and general queer patches and pins and running around with his gay children yelling "MOVE WE'RE GAY!!" He totally calls them his queer crew. Anyway as a result lots of queer royals start coming out of the woodwork, obvs Lonnie is one of them, and the club eventually serves to bring members of Auradon and the Isle close together.

Where was I? Yada yada auradon expects girls to be pretty princesses and boys to be brave knights or dashing princes. It's shit and should stop being portrayed as good. Moving on!

Food! One of the things we'll established in all movies is that the food of the Isle is shit compared to food of Auradon. The Isle has no fresh fruit which likely means its almost impossible for things to grow there which is fair because again there doesn't seem to be much fresh water and there are always clouds overhead so no sun. Maybe there is some people trying really hard to grow stuff but the general attitude of the Isle seems to be "there is no time for that" and fruits are forgotten so much that the VK's litterally don't knownwhat they are when they come across them. That and anything containing sugar. Actually it's mention by Dizzy and Celia that they enjoy the fact that the cake dosent have dirt or flies so basically food there is terrible. We don't see much food on the Isle but what we do see seems to be beans, eggs, chips and shellfish. Basically protine and carbs that can be easily stored and produced. To be fair beans are kidna good for you but they're likely a sign that if they get any imports from the mainland it is canned stuff. Prison food. There's probably some chef villain that is trying their best to make good food out of the shit but honestly the Isle dwellers should be angry that they've been deprived of good food for so long not happy they're finally been given decency.

Moving on, music! Auradon dosent have nearly as many musical numbers it seems, the Isle songs have a distinct style, to them, the villains that basically "founded" the place were masters of the dramatic songs (with backup or solo) so banging music is basically ingrained in the music's culture, even for battle as we see with the fight between Mal and Uma in D3. Meanwhile Auradon seems to have mainly romance and "I want" songs. Even Audrey's villain song is basically an I want song.

Okay let's talk about the Villains. We've established that the VK's are not inherently bad. However not all of them can be totally good and there are legit OG Villains just kinda chillin on the Isle. They've obviously lost quite a bit of their power, motivation and sanity (isolation will do that to ya as they lost everything and the VKs know no different) but deadass? They were bad guys. You can try to rehabilitate them sure but you've basically just let them free roam, they could make a runner and you wouldn't get the chance. They were also shitty patents which is brushed over/joked about in the interaction between Carlos and...man I feel bad I forgot her name deadass their relationship seemed to come out of nowhere in the second film she didn't seem interested in them at all and friendzoned them multiple times I'm pretty sure Disney did that becaue queer kids were relating to Carlos and headcanoning them as queer (which they deffinatly are) but deadass their mom is an attempted animal murderer and has hurt her child as we can see from how they're afraid of her and her rhetoric and yet it's "haha I'm afraid to meet your ma!" "Me too cus im a dog! Lol!" Fuuuuck offfffff

I think I'm running out of thoughts so here's a last one for now; with the magical barrier down a bunch of magical Villains kids should be coming out for the woodwork. We know Mal has magic basically stored in her so it's is possible, she technically doesn't need the spellbook to do magic it is just inherent to her. So with the diverse range of people from the isle there are deffinatly magic folk in there. Actually if we're following Disney movie law I saw something mentioning Jay being half Genie and yeah! He should be half Genie! Jafar got turned into a Genie he's probably only human because of the barrier! Oh also Ben should be able to go beast on command as long as he had a better beast form than he did in the movies. And give him back the beard and fangs like fuck you he looked so much better

Okay I'm done for now

[robinofinashiro]

“Baby, I am a wreck when I'm without you / I need you here to stay / I broke all my bones that day I found you / crying at the lake.” 

request status: OPEN

pairing: bertholdt hoover x fem! reader

note: pls send something in! my inbox/ask box zero req’s so if any of you have any ideas wanting to get out, feel free to ask. all my fandoms are pinned as well as my rules. 

you sat with Annie, throwing her small pieces of napkins as she annoyingly shook her head at you. you had been sitting down, doing absolutely nothing for the last thirty minutes as she tried to study. 

“where is everyone? you’re boring me out and I’m like ready to do something!” you exclaimed. she gave you a dead stare before going back to studying, “you’re no fun! i’m getting food. want anything?” you asked her. 

she replied with water as you stood up, smacking the back of her head playfully before running away. you made your way to the line with a basket full of your snacks and Annie’s water as your boyfriend finally making his way down the stairs with Reiner. 

“long time, no see,” you heard a voice say behind you. you turned around to see someone you felt like you hadn’t saw in centuries, “JAEGER?” you yelled a bit too loudly as you engulfed him into a bone crushing hug, “Eren! i haven’t seen you in forever!” you exclaimed. 

he laughed, scratching the back of his head shamefully, “my god, you grew your hair out, you look great!” you complimented, “damn, how is everything with Mikasa? are the two of you still together?” you asked. 

Eren nodded, “yeah, we’re going onto our two year anniversary soon. how are you and Bertholdt’s tall ass?” he joked. you playfully pushed him, “we’re great, we’re celebrating four years soon,” you saw Eren’s face change to confusion, “what?” you asked. 

Eren found it odd that in the four years both of you were dating, Bertholdt had yet to ask for your hand in marriage. 

he shook his head, “nothing, forget it. we need to hang out soon. i bet Mikasa and Armin would be excited to see you again!” you nodded excitedly, giving him your number on a napkin before giving him another hug, “of course, I’ll text you later to see when’s the next time you and the others free!”  you said before grabbing your things and leaving. 

as you walked away, Bertholdt stared at Eren, feeling as though Eren was basically eye fucking you the entire time you were talking with him. he knew you were friends with the teal eyed boy but he had never saw you so friendly with anyone before. 

“something wrong Bert?” Reiner asked. he shook his head, remaining silent, “hey, did you losers finally get out of class?” he asked. Reiner stared at you, before giving you the middle finger, “what was Jaeger doing here?” he asked. 

Bertholdt saw your eyes light up instantly, “honestly, no clue but it was nice seeing him!” you said, digging into your muffin, “there’s a part happening tonight, y’all should go,” Reiner asked, wiggling his eyebrows. 

you shook your head no, “Bert and I have a date tonight. we’re having our annual movie night tonight,” you said, squeezing Bert’s hand tightly, “but I know Eren’s been interested in hanging out soon so I’ll text him later tonight to see when they’re all free,” you added on. 

Bert tightened his grip on your hand at the mention of Eren. you found it a bit odd but thought nothing of it. the rest of the time that all of you were sitting together, Bert didn’t say much. given that he hardly said anything to begin with, he just couldn’t keep his eyes off you. it was like you mesmerized him all over again. 

Bertholdt couldn’t help but think of the first time he saw you. that very day was the day he knew he wanted to make you his. 

+ 

it was the first day of college. you had been moving all of your things into your dorm along you siblings and mother. you were excited to begin this new chapter in your life and although your mom hated the idea that you were sleeping in a co-ed dorm, she was happy that you were finally getting real world experience. 

you were sharing a dorm with a girl named Annie. you had only messaged her a few times, getting all her info and social media tags. she was bit on the shyer side, not really saying much when the two of you talked but you knew that she wouldn’t be a bad roommate. 

“text us when you’re done getting your dorm together,” your sister reminded you as she placed the box on the floor. you went the front desk, saying the rest of your goodbyes when you felt someone accidentally hit you.

your siblings immediately asked if you were okay, “I-I’m so sorry,” you heard a timid voice say behind you. you turned around to face the tallest person you had ever met, “you’re okay, don’t worry about it!” you said with a smile plastered on your face. 

his blond friend next to him laughed, “i think you’re our friends roommate! Annie is the girl right?” he asked. you nodded yes, “do you know her?” you asked them. you saw as the tall boy tried to stutter out an answer but didn’t, “yeah, we all went to high school together and managed to get into same college as well. I’m Reiner and this is my friend Bertholdt,” he introduced. 

you introduced yourself as your siblings told you they were heading out, them not failing to make you embarrassed as they warned you about not getting any crazy ideas while you were away. 

“we’ll walk you to your dorm if you don’t mind,” Reiner said. you gave them a smile as they pressed the elevator door, “not talkative, are you Bert?” you jokingly asked him. Reiner laughed at his reaction, “not really. we’re lucky if we get any words out of him and we’ve known him for years,” Reiner replied. 

you laughed, poking Bert’s side, “well, I guess I’ll just make it my mission to make you talk,” you told him. by the time you reached your dorm and opened it, you heard Annie groan from seeing them. 

“don’t tell me you’ve already made friends with them?” she asked you. you nodded yes, “great, now that’s going to give them a reason to be here even more,” she complained, “but now that you’re here, be useful with something and help me get something out of my car,” Annie stated, grabbing the blond by the arm. 

Bertholdt felt himself getting nervous, realizing that he was going to left alone with you. once the door slammed shut, Bertholdt ran his sweaty palms against his pants, not really knowing what to do or say. 

“so Bertholdt, you usually this awkward?” you joked again. he stared at you for a moment before feeling a blush cross his face, “uh, y-yeah, making friends isn’t as easy for me as it is for Reiner,” he explained. you gave him a look, with a small smirk playing at your lips. 

he felt his heart stop suddenly. yeah, he had felt nervous before but this was a feeling he had never felt before. even the tiniest of smiles made his heart race and even being at close proximity with you made him sweaty. 

wait. was this the feeling Reiner kept telling him about?

was this the feeling of actually liking someone? Bertholdt had really never liked someone before. given that many people thought that him and Annie would make a great couple, Annie had never saw Bert in that way and vice versa. 

finally pulling back into reality, he stared down at you before giving you the tiniest of smiles, “what has you happy all of a sudden?” you asked. he shook his head, “n-nothing,” he replied. 

+ 

later on that night, you were prepping the things the both of you needed for your movie night. you usually tended to Bert in your bed, basically attached to him like a koala as he held you close to his chest.

whenever the two of you cuddled, you were usually cuddled into him shirtless. he knew you liked his physique, he was tall, very built, and lean so whenever the chance presented itself, you would make him take his shirt off so the two of you cuddle ‘correctly’ as you liked to say. 

you heard a knock on your door, realizing that it was Bertholdt and ran to it. you gave him a smile, placing a kiss on his lips before letting him in. Bert on the other hand had other plans and bent down for another kiss, quickly making it steamier than usual. 

“where did that come from?” you asked a bit flustered, “just wanted to kiss ya,” he replied, making a beeline to your room. you followed as he had basically dragged you in there, crawling into bed as quickly as possible. 

you grabbed the remote for your tv as the two of you got to scrolling through the movie lists. it didn’t take long until the two of you finally found a movie, settling with watching ‘Singing’ in the Rain’, one of your favorite movies. 

for about an hour, you were engrossed with watching the movie, making side comments about how cute the couple was.

“what has you so affection tonight, Hoover?” you asked, your fingers dancing along his chest. he nervously touched the suede maroon box in his shorts as you remained silent, “I wanna ask you something,” he mentioned a bit quieter than usual. 

you gave him a concern look, “you’re not breaking up with me, are you? you’ve been acting really weird since I spoke with Eren earlier today and if you got any implication-,” Bert cut you off with a kiss, surprising you completely, “it’s nothing like that, relax,” he said. 

reaching into his pocket, he gripped the box almost feeling like his knuckles would turn white. you had covered yourself with the blanket, feeling the cold hit you. finally, Bert gripped your chin as a million thoughts ran in his head. he knew this was the next step in your relationship and oddly enough, he didn’t feel nervous at all. 

“marry me,” Bert whispered as he opened the box and showed the ring. you felt your heart stop in its tracks as you gazed at the ring for a moment before looking to Bertholdt again, “really?” you asked, feeling tears spring into your eyes, “yes, of course Bertholdt,” you exclaimed as you tackled him into a kiss.

 ‘You Were Meant For Me’ was playing in the background as Bertholdt pulled away and took the ring out of its box to place on your shaky hand. you couldn’t stop gazing at the ring as Bert wiped a tear from your face.

“Reiner is the only one who knew I was going to do this tonight and although he wanted me to give this big elaborate speech, you know that really isn’t my style.” 

you didn’t say anything back, jumping onto Bert again and kissing him, this time a lot steamier than usual. he was caught off guard but didn’t mind where you were going with this and let you continue what you were doing. 

“we can call everyone tomorrow. i want to spend the rest of the night with you,” Bert whispered into your ear, as he started to remove your tank top, “I couldn’t agree more Mr.Hoover,” you said smiling.

Bert for the first in what felt like a long time smiled harder than he ever had before, “I appreciate it, Mrs.Hoover. Mrs.( your name ) Hoover,” he said back. you felt your smile get even brighter before nervously giggling at hearing those words coming from him. 

you knew that everyone from Annie and up to your siblings would freak out about the news, but later that night after everything was said and done, both you and Bert sent a photo too Reiner. your hand was being held by Bertholdt as he showed the ring off to him with both your smiles plastered on your face. 

[literaila]

Further down down down

spencer reid x reader 

summary: spencer tells reader he loves her. she doesnt say anything. 

warnings: it sucks. probably typos, probably confusing... angst kind of? 

I hope you enjoy it! 

______________________________

There was an unread message sitting on her phone. 

And although it held nothing, felt like barely anything. 

It was weighing her down. 

It was pulling her body down down down, and she wondered when she had decided to hold onto this incredible weight. When she had decided that today was the day to go weight lifting. Nevermind the fact that she’d never been weight lifting a day in her life, nevermind the fact that she hadn't chosen this, that in reality, she wanted nothing more but to put it down. 

It only took her a few seconds to be pulled back down when she finally found the ground. 

And there she was, going down down down and she could barely remember why. 

It all seemed stupid now, silly, immature. It all seemed like she was being ridiculous, acting like an eight-year-old child and she should learn how to be an adult. 

A couple of days ago she wouldn't have thought that, a couple of days ago her mind was set, her body was no longer anxious with the decision making she’d been putting it through. A couple of days ago everything seemed final, and she knew exactly what was to come, knew exactly how it would all turn out. 

A couple of days ago her mind was set. 

But then everything started feeling heavy, it started with her hands, started with her hands feeling like they were baring the whole world, it started with her hands and then it moved up, up up, and she could feel it in her arms, could feel it filling her like it was something pleasant like it was warm and she was welcoming it. She felt it fill her arms like she was accepting it into her body. 

She wasn't but that didn't matter. 

And then it traveled further up, further down, everywhere else it could touch. Her shoulders, her chest, her stomach, her thighs, her fingertips, her feet. It filled and filled and seemed like it would never stop. 

It would never stop, this weight. This terrible, dreadful weight. 

Holding her down. Pinning her to the ground, screaming in her face that she couldn't get up yet. That she had to go down down down some more, that this wouldn't be over for a while. 

It was so ridiculous. 

And if she were a different person, she might beg it to stop, might beg the weight to stop making her chest feel heavy every time she tried to breathe in air, might beg for this weight to let her mind go, to let her think again without pounding on her skull, sending her body down. If she were any different, she might beg, she might scream for it to set her free, to get her out of this hell, to stop making her feel like this. 

But she was who she was, and the weight wouldn't leave. 

Eventually, after she heard the ring of her phone dancing across the room after she’d walked the distance over to it after she’d picked it up carefully, already familiar with the sound, already aware who was texting her, after she’d read it, once, twice, again and again. After all of that, she’d realized that this weight had been building up, that this weight was all leading up to this moment, this message. 

This girl who was sitting in the dark, sitting, waiting, trying not to fall on her face. 

A couple of days ago she’d been sure. 

Sure that it was over, that it was done, it was just done, that they wouldn't speak again, that they wouldn't talk, wouldn't fight, that his eyes would never meet hers again, that he would no longer look at her the way he always did, that he wouldn't smile, wouldn't laugh with her. 

She’d been sure that it was over. That it was done. 

She’d been so sure. So sure. 

And now she was falling down down down. 

A week ago, Spencer had told her. He’d breathed the words out into the world, exhaling, inhaling, forcing this moment between the two of them, putting this secret out into the world and begging her to take it in. 

He’d told her he loved her. 

He whispered the words, quietly, so so fast, inhaling, exhaling. 

It was all she could do to look at him. To notice the dwindling hope in his eyes, the familiar color she’d stared at for months. It was all she could do to sit there and watch him and let her mind flutter away to a different place. 

He’d told her he loved her and she hadn't said a thing. 

She’d watched though. Oh yes, she’d watched every moment, every flicker of emotion go through his eyes. 

At first, he’d been hopeful, blissful, watching her, laughing at her. He’d breathed this secret out into the world and she could see that he’d been relieved, that this secret was a relief to let go of. And then she noticed his smile fall, slowly, not all at once. She’d notice while his face shifted, changing into something less, something no longer blissful, no longer relieved, like he’d realized he’d said the wrong thing. The wrong thing. 

And then, she watched his eyes become confused, watched as he scowled at the world, scowled at this cruel world that he’d hoped in only moments ago. And she watched and she watched and the last emotion she saw was sorrow, grief like he’d lost something. It was the last thing she saw before he got up, got up off of this picnic blanket they were sitting on, and left. Walking away. Walking home she assumed. 

She didn't see anything after that. 

But she’d sat there, in the dark, cold, the wind fresh against her cheek, the world angry with her, angry that she hadn't grabbed onto the secret Spencer had left for her, that the world had to harbor that secret alone. 

She could barely tell. 

Because her mind was fluttering back, returning to her in the wind, and this event, this secret, this weight had all hit her at once. 

Spencer had told her he loved her. She hadn't said a thing. 

She hadn't done anything. She hadn't blinked, hadn't breathed, there were no whispers of affection, no smiles, no scenes that she was so familiar with in movies. 

There hadn't been anything. 

Every piece of her, for only a minute, had left, had fluttered away in the wind, and she hadn't had a thing to say. 

That night, she cursed to herself, cursed, and had wanted to scream out into the world. But it was too cold, and she was too aware of what had happened to do anything but curse. A couple of minutes later she’d got up, hoping she could find him. 

But it was too late. 

And a couple of days ago she had decided. 

After days of him avoiding her, or her avoiding him- she didn't know, she couldn't decide which it was -after days of that, of not looking each other in the eyes, of not talking about anything unless it was absolutely necessary, of sitting in different rooms, different worlds. Yes, after that she decided that it was done. That it was over, that clearly their friendship wasn't strong enough to last her stupidity, that her immaturity, her tactic for avoiding things, had ended it all. 

It was over. She could tell it was over. It was over so the weight could go, so the weight of Spencer’s secret, his confession, the weight could leave. It could go, she didn't need it, she didn't need to go down down down if they weren't friends, if that moment hadn't mattered at all. If it was over. 

The weight could go now. It could go, she didn't need it. She didn't. 

And for the last couple of days, she’d been firm on her decision, set, final, she was sure that it was the answer. They were over, done, and she would have to cope with that. Surely she couldn't cope with that. 

But then her phone had blared, had stopped her heart for far too long, had sent a brand new wave of weight down her body and, and, ouch. 

Ouch. 

After that, she was being forced further down, down down down, and the weight was telling her that this was it, that it wasn't going to leave, that it had made a nice home in her body, that she was just far too comfortable for it to leave, and she wanted to scream and cry and she didn't understand any of these emotions that were coming out of her from a simple text a simple, “I’m coming over” a simple statement, one she shouldn't, one she never had been, afraid of. 

The weight was only pushing her further. Only throwing her body down further into the ground, down down down. 

She had to talk to him. She knew that she’d always know that, she’d known that even if it was over, even if they really weren't going to be friends anymore, even if she would still have to talk to him once more, she would still have to apologize, still have to put an end to it completely. 

But she was good, no she was excellent at avoiding her problems, avoiding talking to people. And she had wanted to avoid him, at least for a couple more weeks, until she could get herself together, could cope with the reality of the situation, until she was ready to tell him, to listen to him tell her that it was over. 

She’d wanted to wait longer. 

But he was coming over, he was coming over to her house right now, he would be there in no less than ten minutes, and she wasn't ready, she didn't want this. 

She was an idiot, she was, and she wasn't ready to admit that, she wasn't ready to admit that this was her fault, that she should have said something. 

And god, she couldn't breathe with all this extra weight on her chest. 

And she was still going down, further down, so far down she was on the edge of the earth, down down down, until she wasn't anything, until there was nothing, until she was just dust in an old-world, until she couldn't-

She was still going down when there was a knock at the door. 

She didn't move, didn't think, didn't breathe. 

She didn't go up and answer the door. Usually, even when they were still being proper friends, Spencer would only knock as a courtesy. After she’d explained her dislike of greeting people at the door, at the awkward silence that usually followed, he’d stopped waiting for her to answer, he knocked, waited a couple of seconds, and then came in. 

She’d given him a key a long time ago. 

She waited fifteen seconds. Fifteen seconds. She pretended she couldn't hear him breathing against the door, inhale, exhale, she pretended that he wasn't there, this was a normal day, normal day, it was just a normal day. 

After fifteen seconds he quietly opened the door. She saw him peek first, notice all the lights off, and then she saw him step in, taking his shoes off while she tried to be as quiet as possible. Maybe if he couldn't see her, couldn't hear her, he would leave. 

He would leave and she would be alone, so alone with this weight and she would go so far down, and she could just keep avoiding him and it could be over. 

But, he turned on the lights, so familiar with her apartment, and his eyes met hers, where she was curled up on the couch, staring at him. 

He gave her a sideways smile. 

A smile that wasn't like him wasn't normal, it was an awkward smile like he was trying to make peace with her like he was trying to make sure she wasn't mad. 

She couldn't feel the weight press against her chest, forcing her to breathe out. 

She swore she could see Spencer flinch. 

He moved quietly, taking his bag off of his shoulder, placing it on her counter, and neither of them were saying a word, and she couldn't remember why he was there, why he had said he was coming. 

Maybe he hadn't. 

She wanted him to be the first to speak, she wasn't going to utter a word until he did. 

And with every second that passed, every awkward second of them being in the same room, alone together, silent, she could feel the weight getting heavier and heavier. 

It seemed impossible that it could be any heavier than it already was, but then again she thought that it was impossible yesterday too. 

“Are you cold?” Spencer finally said, his voice unfamiliar, almost scared. 

It was the first thing he’d said to her in a week. 

And all she could respond with was a “huh?” 

“You-” Spencer swallowed, his hands gesturing toward her “You’re all curled up, and you usually do that when your cold… and I can” he breathed “I can go check the thermostat if you want- I already know where it is so-” 

“Spencer.” 

“Yes?” he asked, his voice quiet now. 

“I’m fine.” 

He nodded. Took a deep breath in. Inhaling, exhaling. 

And then both of them were thinking. It was like their brains were connected, both of them remembering the same thing at the exact same time. 

I love you 

A whisper into the wind. A secret, now told. Grab it. 

Grab it. 

Nothing. 

Goodbye. 

Spencer was shaking his head. Trying not to remember her rejection, her silence. He told her he loved her and she had nothing to say. Nothing at all. 

And she was sitting, staring, willing that moment to fade into the distance forever. The weight on her chest was expanding, throwing itself at her heart, trying to make her fall, trying to get her to go down down down. It was whispering in her ear, reminding her. She willed it to go away. 

They both looked up at the same time. Their eyes mee. And it was awkward, it was so incredibly awkward. And it almost felt like there was nothing to say, nothing at all. 

And she knew she had to get this over with. She needed this weight to go away, to let go. 

“Spencer,” she said again. 

He looked up, nodded his head as a way of answering. 

“Why are you here? If you’re not going to talk to me? Why are you here?” And her voice was so different, such a different shade of herself, a different sound. She wondered when she would be able to move without falling. 

“I needed… We need to talk, we can't work together and just…” Spencer’s voice faded off, his intent clear, his words clearer. 

“Then talk Spence.” the nickname fell from her lips, an accident that scarred the both of them. 

It was silent for a moment. Spencer dwelling on the past, Y/N trying not to fall, not to fade into her couch, willing this weight to go away because she didn't want it. It was supposed to be gone by now. 

“I’m sorry.” Was all Spencer said, breaking the silence. Then breaking it again. “I’m sorry that I’ve made this awkward. And I’m sorry that I left that night. I shouldn’t have left. I just- I just needed some time.” He stopped, and she wondered if he was done. He wasn't. 

“I shouldn't have thrown that at you, and I don't expect you to say anything back, all of this, every awkward thing that has happened this week is my fault, and it was never supposed to be awkward with you and… I’m just sorry.” 

He stopped. Rubbed an ashamed hand over his face. 

And she could see the resistance on his face, she could see the sincerity, and she realized. 

It wasn't done. 

And oh god, oh god. 

She had missed him so much. She had willed herself not to miss him, repeated over and over that they were done, that it was done, that it wouldn't happen, that it was too late, far too late and she fell further and further down, the weight of fear and longing enough to push her down down down. 

But she had missed him, she had missed him and she’d only just realized it. 

It couldn't be over. It couldn't just be over when it was someone you loved as much as she loved him. 

“Why are you sorry?” she asked, her voice strangled, coming out in one breath as she tried to breathe in, tried to breathe in air. Just air. 

“I didn't… I never meant to throw my um,” he paused an awkward hand scratching his neck. “I never meant to tell you like that. It was just. I- I’m sorry.” 

And for just one second, just one moment, the weight faltered, flinched, and she pushed against it, pushed back, fought it. 

She got up off the couch. 

She went to stand in front of him. 

“I know Spence, but why are you sorry?” and her voice was softer now, her chest less resistant. 

“I love you. I’m sorry.” 

And it was those words again, that secret that he had breathed out into the world once before, only once before, that weight that he had placed on her chest, the secret he had handed her. It was that secret. Those words. 

Down down down, breathe breathe breathe. 

“I know you don't feel the same, and I’m sorry. I never should have told you.” 

And that weight, that goddamn weight was pushing against her, making her feel so much, too much, but she couldn't just let herself flutter away again, she couldn't just ignore him like she had been, couldn't avoid his emotions again. She couldn't. She wouldn't this time. No. 

And this weight was forcing her down, so far down, but she had more to say. No. She had more to say she wouldn't go yet. 

“Spencer,” she said, her voice nothing more than a whisper, awed, hesitant. “You don't have to be sorry.” 

“Yes I do, and you can say that-” 

“No,” she said, her thoughts out in the open. “No, you don't have to be sorry. You never have to be sorry for how you feel.” 

Spencer stood in front of her, confused, his eyes questioning. 

“I’m sorry Spencer, I’m so so sorry.” She said, taking one step closer, resisting the weight that tried to pull her back. 

“Why are you sorry? You haven't done anything.” Spencer said, and she could see his eyes thinking over the moment, going over everything she had said, but he wouldn't understand, he wouldn't get it, not until she told him. 

“I have though. That night, when you were smiling at me, laughing with me,” she giggled at the memory, looking right at him like she could see him for the first time. “When you told me when you said you loved me, something inside of me ran away. And I know you understand everything, but you won't understand this okay? So just listen.” She said when she could tell he was about to interrupt. 

“A part of me ran away. I think I was so shocked, I think it was just too much for that moment. It was too much and I didn't know what to say. So I ran, not literally, but figuratively, I ran. And I’m sorry because you didn't deserve that, you didn't deserve to be upset because I couldn't open my mouth, and you have not deserved me avoiding you this past week because I was scared. Spencer, I was so scared.” Her face was reserved now, her voice almost catching, almost falling. 

“I thought that was it. I thought I had made a mistake. I thought that I didn't get another chance, that I was never going to be able to tell you how I felt. And so I didn't say anything, I didn't want to admit the truth to myself, to you, so I’ve been avoiding you, and I’m sorry. Because you don't deserve that, you never have.” 

Spencer was looking at her, staring at her still like he was confused, and so she went on, the words too much to keep trapped inside of her body. 

“And I’m sorry, I never meant for anything like this to ever happen, and we can just go back to being friends we can just-” 

Spencer cut her off, her words disappearing as he moved closer to her. 

And she looked in his eyes, looked and she saw something she recognized. She saw hope, she saw bliss. Bliss. Hope. 

She saw him, she saw the same him she had seen a couple of nights ago, when he had told her he loved her, she saw that same guy, sitting in front of her, smiling, and she was confused, what had just happened what was happening? 

“You were never going to be able to tell me how you felt?” he said, his voice clear as day, his smile breaking her in half. 

“Ye-yeah.” She said, now aware of how close he was, of the weight pounding in her chest. Pounding, pounding, and she was sure, she was so sure, that she was going to fall down, was going to be buried by this pounding, this weight, she was so sure

And then Spencer spoke again. 

“How did you feel?” he asked, and she could understand why he was hopeful, why he was looking at her like that why he was smiling. Because he finally understood, she hadn't even said the words and he understood. 

And it was almost like they were in a completely different place. It was almost like she was completely new, almost like, almost like 

“I love you. I loved you. And I love you.” she said, her words rushed, her secret banging out into the world, her secret so similar to his. She wished he would grab it. Grab it. 

“You love me?” he asked, his smile wider, his dimples more clear. 

And his eyes, and his eyes. 

It was so much different from last time, so much different, so so different because now she was there, her brain wasn't somewhere else and she could feel her heart pounding could feel the butterflies in her stomach, could feel everything, she could think, and 

Spencer looked happy. Hopeful. So so different. 

Inhale, exhale. 

“I love you,” she said again, reassured, tried to smile at her confession, tried not to feel nervous. 

“You love me,” Spencer said once more, this time as a statement, this time sure, this time this time this time. 

And he kissed her. He moved forward, his hands heading for her face, his body colliding with her, and 

Oh god oh god. 

He kissed her. It was different than she had imagined, different, but she was learning to accept the difference, and so she kissed back. Meeting his lips with just as much passion as he met hers. 

And this weight was pulling her down, pulling her down begging her to come with it, grabbing onto her shirt, her hair, any inch of skin it could find. This weight was screaming at her, pulling her down down down, and she was accepting. 

She was going down. So far down. Fading into nothing. 

But, she realized, this wasn't a bad weight. 

She realized that if she had accepted earlier, if she had not tried to keep herself up, if she had let herself fall, fall, down down down down down down. If she had just gone with the weight. 

She would have realized sooner that it was Spencer, that Spencer was pulling her down, taking him with her, loving her, desperately, intensely. 

They were pulling this weight together. 

Down down down.

______________________________

thank you so much for reading! 

my masterlist here. 

[staysaneathome]

That Day (Afternoon)

(I made another part of that Entity swap WIP, this time with 90% more Melanie King and 30% more Basira Hussain, enjoy) Jon initially had no inkling that this day was going to be substantially different from any other.

Admittedly, there were some differences from his usual day-to-day roamings, but none that hadn’t been true of other days. He was a whole year older, as the Watcher informed him three weeks after his twelfth birthday, but that was ages ago now and he really didn’t feel any different between twelve and eleven.

The Collection was back in town, but he’d managed to avoid them so far, sometimes by the skin of his teeth. Somehow he continued to escape The Man’s prying gaze and the searchers who roamed the streets, some cognizant, some…not. He wondered if the Watcher allowed him to roam free because his status as The Recorder meant it liked him more than the Man, somehow.

Martin hadn’t been at the park for the past fortnight or so, though he’s promised to visit again as soon as he could the last time he was there.  So he could be forgiven of thinking that this day would be no more significant than the last.

And then he spots an eight-year-old girl toddling after one of the searchers.

She’s tall in the way that suggests she’ll be small later in life, with sparkly hair bobbles and the kind of clothes that come from Marks & Spencer or John Lewis or the other too big, too clean stores where the shop people glare at Jon as he goes past.

She’s asking questions of the searcher (who used to be known as Diana, but has lost what made a lot of her her in the flux and flow of information that The Man commands her to find). Questions like, “what do you know about the ghosts I saw on my holiday” and “why is everything so annoying now” and “why are you holding my hand so tight, it hurts” and “are you sure my daddy won’t mind, because he said he was only going to be gone for five minutes” and “hey, are you even listeningto me, you said you’d listen to me?!”

She’s only little, and she hasn’t lived that long, hasn’t got as many stories in her yet. But she’s had an Encounter with one of the Fourteen, and that called the searcher to her like moths to a flame.  Now the searcher’s taking the little girl back to The Collection, where The Man will Ask her about it.  And that will be the End of her.

Jon should turn around and walk away.  It’s sad, but this has happened millions of times, to millions of other people other than this one girl Jon had the misfortune of seeing. He’s so very incredibly lucky he hasn’t been found and dragged back yet, it’d be stupid to give it all up now. He can’t compromise his own safety for someone he doesn’t even know. He needs to turn around and walk away, see if Martin’s waiting at the park for him.

He’s going to turn around. Right now. Right now. Right. Now. Now. Now.

Now!

Jon has never been the largest child. Even when living with his grandmother and getting three square meals a day plus snacks, he’s always remained small and birdlike and bony. He’s not like Martin, who looks like he’d be soft and huggable, or Tommy, who was solid and square when he pushed Jon and stole his books.

But somehow he manages to barrel into the searcher’s arm and rip the little girl up and away with all the strength in his small body.

Of course, that’s when the girl begins trying to claw his eyes out.

“LET ME GO!!” She screams, wriggling so hard Jon almost drops her as he’s trying to run back across the busy road, car horns blaring around them. “WHO ARE—WHAT ARE—PUT ME DOWN RIGHT NOW OR I'LL BITE YOUR NOSE OFF, I SWEAR, I SWEAR I WILL!!”

”Stop MOVING!” He yells back at her once he’s safely hit pavement. “The searcher’s going to catch us both otherwise! I’m saving your life!!”

“I DIDN'T ASK YOU TO, YOU STUPID UGLY HEAD!!” The little girl shrieks back.

Jon considers dropping her and booking it himself for a single moment.

But the searcher’s coming for them, and now she’s seen him too, her pace quickening as the knowledge of how much the Man wants his prized Recorder back resonating in her skull until it overrides even basic instincts of pain and survival.

So Jon grits his teeth as the little girl in his arms tears into his shoulder with her sharp little nails and hauls her with him down the street as fast as he can go.

The Watcher tells him the bus pulling up to the station in front of them has a camera that’s faulty on the second level. There are two family groups that are going from sniping at each other to outright exchanging verbal blows over who deserves to get on first, the parents going red in the face with spittle flying from their mouths and the children pulling faces and calling names as the overworked and underpaid bus driver tries to keep order.

It’s easy for Jon to duck through them and drag the girl up the bus stairs with him, as the conflict below devolves into an outright brawl that masks the eight-year-old’s protests.  The bus doors slam shut, and the bus pulls away amidst the yelling and fighting outside.

Jon sags down in the seat on the relatively empty second level. The only other person seems to be a teenager slumped down across the very back seats far away from them, eyes shut and white headphone wires trailing out from under their hijab.

He stares out of the window at the searcher, whose figure is quickly vanishing as the bus picks up speed and merges into the London traffic.

”Okay.” He exhales, loosening his grip on the little girl’s collar. “I think we’re safe.”

The little girl whirls around.  Her teeth snap shut an inch away from his nose.

Jon presses himself against the window. “What is wrong wi—hey! Stop it!!”

“No!” The girl yells back. “That lady was gonna tell me why everything is being so annoying, all the time now and how to make it stop, so I can be happy again, and you, you went and ruined it!!” She’s still flailing, still trying furiously to claw him open, but there’s a frustrated edge to her voice and tears brimming in her eyes.

”I did not!” Jon protests vehemently, trying to keep a grip on her so she doesn’t give him anymore scratches like the one trickling blood down his arm. “She didn’t want to help you! She just wanted to take you back and make you tell your story so the Collection could eat up your life!”

”Liar! How would you know?!” The girl accuses, one of her sparkly hair-bobbles coming undone.

”Because that’s what they tried to do to me.” Jon hisses. “But they didn’t eat all of me, just…just made me into something like them. A monster that eats stories.”

The girl actually pauses for a moment to digest this.

“Are you going to try to eat me, then?” She asks, warily, arms tensing again. “If you’re a monster like that lady.”

”Of course not!” Jon scoffs, then adds, “Eating someone yucky like you would make me sick.”

The little girl goes bug-eyed and she tears her arms out of his grip to cross them over her chest ”I would not! You take that back!”

”No.” Jon says gleefully, then immediately regrets it when the little girl kicks him in the shin. “Ow! Stop that!”

”You started it.” The girl replies moodily, shifting to sit down in the seat properly and swing her legs.

Jon finally turns away to inspect the damage he’s sustained, pulling his shirt away from his arm and hissing as it makes his shoulder burn with pain. The Watcher tells him he needs to disinfect the cuts and maybe have a few stitches if he wants it to not get worse, but he can’t exactly get those easily where he is right now.

”If you’re a monster, why do you bleed like a normal person?” The girl pipes up behind him. Her eyebrows are furrowed.

”Why do you care?” He mutters, shooting her a dirty look.

The girl puffs out her chest, which looks a little odd, given that she’s now sitting on her hands. “I’m gonna be a ghost hunter when I’m grown up. Like in that one movie, but I’ll be even cooler and have a magic sword instead of a weird gun, and I’ll beat up all the ghosts and monsters on my own, except the nice ones, because they’ll be my friends. I’m Melanie, by the way. What’s your name? Do monsters have names?”

”Yes.” Jon replies. He enjoys the silence for a moment.

Melanie’s cheeks puff out like a pufferfish as she glares at him. “Okaay, so what’s your name?”

”Jon.” Jon says curtly.

”That’s not a very good name for a monster.” Melanie informs him.

”I wasn’t always a monster.” Jon tells her sourly. “Just like you.” The little girl doesn’t ask him many more questions for a long time after that.

”What are you looking at?” Melanie says suddenly as the bus is slowing to its fourth stop since they got on.

Jon twists away from the window. “I’m just trying to see if the searcher’s followed us—”

”Not you.” Melanie replies impatiently. “You. What are you looking at?”

The back of Jon’s neck goes cold. He twists around slowly.

The teenager in the hijab isn’t slumped across the seats. She’s half-way to standing, and staring right at them. Her eyes are cold and intent.

They stay like that, frozen for a moment.

”Melanie, run!!” He screams.

Melanie throws herself towards the stairs as the teenager explodes into motion behind them. Jon can feel her fingers try to snag on the back of his shirt as he thunders down the stairs, only narrowly missing him as he half-falls the rest of the way down and pelts out the bus doors to the sound of the driver yelling indignantly.

One of Melanie’s sparkly bobbles has fallen out and her hair is drooping down as she turns to grab onto Jon’s hand while they run.

”Stop!” The teenager yells. “Hey!” She’s gaining on them.

Jon tries to Know where they can go to lose her, how they can escape, but the Watcher just gives him useless tidbits instead; that man with the skateboard there has undiagnosed intermittent explosive disorder, this lady jogging over up ahead served two tours as a nurse in her youth to pay for her medical degree, that young person with the pins on their bag here is coordinating a flash mob on his phone to protest—

“Go away already!” Melanie complains on a furious exhale, and kicks a discarded can in her path hard.

It rockets away from her, bounces off a rubbish bin, and somehow jams in between the wheels of the man’s skateboard. He yelps as he falls, but roars when the teenager chasing them runs directly into him without slowing down, rising to block her path. The lady jogging furrows her brow with alarm, and races forwards to put herself between what she sees as a hostile and a young civilian in need of her protection, inadvertently preventing the teenager from advancing in her attempts to diffuse the situation and keep the man from lashing out at her physically. The person on their phone looks up and sets their jaw, switching it to video record the conflict and grabbing the teenager back even further, acting as a shield and spit inflammatory accusations that do more to raise tempers and attract attention than to resolve anything.

Jon watches all this with rapt eyes, drinking it in until his hand is jerked hard and he almost falls over.

”C’mon!” Melanie yells, irritated and scared and guilty and angry, the mark of the Slaughter almost an audible note to her voice, her footsteps. “We need to get away from those creepy ladies, find somewhere to hide, where do we go?!”

To hide.  Jon tightens his grip on Melanie’s hand and changes their course slightly, heading towards a place he frequents regularly.

”Follow me,” He gasps, trying to ignore the stitch in his side. “I have a friend.”

[9h4mn]

you, who | sf9

➞ sf9 as the type of guys you had a crush on

➞ fluff, pinning, slight! angst, unrequited love

➞ in filipino, they call it kilig and its basically like that butterfly in your stomach exploded which leaves you a flustered mess. what are some of the nine different types of guys that causes you to feel that way?

warnings: insecurity, mentions of divorce, mentions of kidnap attempt, ghosting

inseong:

the senior type

this type of crush is older by a year or two and has this sort of vibe. in school, he has this dazzling smile, kind personality, and an easy to approach demeanor

also known as this genius gentleman

you can see that he isn't like your previous crushes who were rude to you

he drinks respect women juice on the daily

at one point, he will most likely be the one who helped you in a problem regarding school

again he is easy to approach and conversations can flow so easily between the two of you

on inseong's graduating year, you had gained enough courage to try and confess to him

the plan was simple: approach him when he's free, bring him somewhere private, then confess your feelings

its simple — you thought it was simple — but things aren't that easy

of course he would end up liking her, the perfect girl and your classmate

she was beautiful, smart, kind, and tall

you can't even hate her when you want to

but you hope, even just once, that someone out there would choose you over her — its unfortunate that this someone isn't inseong

youngbin:

the brother's best friend type

this type of crush is someone your family has known for some time. he has also most likely saw you in your awkward phrase

don't worry the both of you have seen each other's awkward phrases

your brother always has youngbin over and if not then its your brother who is at youngbin's

they were two peas in a pod never to be separated

however, if your brother teases you too much youngbin is there to the rescue

something about how your brother shouldn't stress our sister

thats right, he had already sisterzoned you but despite that you still like him

your friends helped you in getting over him and all he had to do was smile for that wall to crumble

you were hopelessly in love with a guy who will never see you as a woman

when a few years have passed and you're already living in your college's dorm, you had received an invitation

what was it you ask? youngbin's wedding invitation and you were invited

even until the very end, he had always seen you as his little sister

jaeyoon:

the boy next door type

this type of crush is your neighbor from a much better family. of course your family is nice but they were almost like the picture perfect family

you and jaeyoon happened to be of the same age so when your parents found out they urged you to befriend him

you were lucky that jaeyoon was as sweet as he appeared to be because if he was wicked in the inside you would't have able to survive

staying over at each other's house and watching movies became your thing until jaeyoon's perfect family cracked

his father got swamped in heavy workload and what did his mother do? she cheated on him and got pregnant

his parents' fights were really terrible while they were processing the divorce

at times he would even sleep over at your house with his sister following him

in his time of need, you never once abandoned him

it didn't came as much as a surprise when you and jaeyoon began to date

time may choose to be cruel but when you have each other, everything will be ok

dawon:

the class clown type

this type of crush brings life inside the classroom. everyone laughs at his jokes, even teachers, and he is safe from many things because they just like him like that

you are probably the class president and what does it mean when dawon is your classmate? headaches

seriously though you're the one who gets embarrassed for him

through the years you have been the class president, dawon was always your classmate

it was expected that you'd be annoyed of his antics with how long you've been dealing with him

your relationship changed when he crossed the line and made you cry

since that day you met a new side to the class clown, a boy with a broken past and high expectations — that was the true dawon

hurting you was never his intention. he had also thought that you found things annoying

as he spends more time with you, many classmates begin to notice how that strict and stern president softened

during school festival, you had held his hands and confessed, all while the fireworks began

who would have thought that the class president and class clown would be a good pair?

zuho:

the unattainable type

this type of crush is always taken by your sister or best friend. it doesn't matter which one of the two, he will always date someone close to your heart

you had met him as that person's crush and as a good friend/sister you tried to find out more about this guy

approaching him, sharing conversations, and finding out his interests were your priority

so when you fell for him and find yourself unable to sleep at night due to thinking of him? you knew you were doomed

everything began for her so why were your feelings acting up?

seeing the obvious sparks, you had continued with your original plans and even began to play the role of the matchmaker

you see both zuho's and your friend/sister's struggle with expressing their feelings for each other

they were shy and reluctant, without you it would have been hard for them to strike a conversation without getting flustered

eventually they began to date

and what does it leave you?

the one who gave up on love for the sake of her other loved ones

rowoon:

the popular type

this type of crush is always receiving confessions but for some reason is still single. he is the epitome of a perfect guy sculpted by the gods

there is a high chance that he even has a fanclub of some sort going on

rowoon is that popular

so you liked him because he is popular? no, there is more to rowoon then just that

he is caring, he likes to nag, sometimes he boasts himself too much for your liking, he is almost like a mother too

why do you know all that? you are rowoon's shield against his fangirls

and it all began simply because he noticed how indifferent you were to him

at one point he had even proposed a fake dating idea

seokwoo, you naive fool. thats how shojou love stories begin

of course you declined and he knew how to respect that

your relationship stayed that way until you began to get a fanclub yourself

rowoon only knew the extent of his feelings through jealousy

it had reached a point where he had accidentally blurted out his feelings

well remember that fake dating ploy? there was no need when both your hearts were already beating for each other

taeyang:

the closed off type

this type of crush is like a loner. he isn't necessarily avoiding people and he's more on the shy side. his height and gaze just makes him look intimidating

you sat behind him in class and though it seems stupid since he was tall and could cover your entire body — it was the exact reason you liked sitting behind him

you could draw during class and not get your sketchbook confiscated because of him

the day had come when you would absentmindedly draw taeyang

at first you could defend it as you appreciating pretty things but when you had stopped to draw in class just to stare at taeyang during class? uh-oh

it worsened when you saw taeyang dance for the first time

imagine his surprise when that smol girl who sits behind him began to talk to him nonstop and even does her best to include him

people had began to talk but you weren't the type to get bothered

instead it was taeyang who got worried and even told you to stop talking to him

what did you do? you straight out confessed to him

if he wasn't going to notice all the signs you've given then its time to just blurt it out

you succeeded in flustering him but not at making him believe in your words

maybe one of these days yoo taeyang will understand your feelings but for now you could just settle with this — the silent boy all flustered because of you

hwiyoung:

the "i always see him" type

this type of crush is someone who doesn't go in the same school as you but somehow the both of you always cross paths

and no neither hwiyoung or you are intentionally following each other

you first crossed paths with him at the playground and you two merely walked past each other

then many more circumstances began to present itself and now you and hwiyoung can't help but make faces at each other when you locked eyes

yes, while technically strangers you can act like that with him

the first moment the both of you truly talk to each other was when someone tried to kidnap you

you would have fought back but it was nearly impossible with how sudden you were grabbed

hwiyoung then arrived for your rescue. he simply kicked that kidnapper and you were free

that night while you two were waiting for the police, you shared jokes and laughter as if you both knew each other for a long time

there were more moments of you and hwiyoung but alas it was just memories of your youth

years and years have passed but you could never forget the boy who made your heart race back in high school

you don't know what happened to him

he just stopped appearing one day and since then you haven't saw him again

it was as if he never existed and he was just your dream

chani:

the childhood friend type

this type of crush is someone you had known since you were young and you even grew up alongside him

for sure both your families shipped you

yeah its kinda weird how adults are rooting for a relationship between their barely 5 years old children

both of you were like the butt of the cooties joke, i know immature children at it again

also can see you two having those cute matching clothes when you were much younger

now sometime before high school the both of you got in a huge argument and it ended in bad terms

people who knew you two were shocked on how you became enemies

heated glares and rude remarks were thrown to each other at every moment possible

you don't know how it got to this point. it was a stupid argument and the fact it was enough to end years of friendship? just how little does chani think of you?

but of course this anger slowly turns into pain

you just want your best friend back

and luckily for you, he thought the same

it was a slow process for the both of you to mend things to the way it was before

the argument, though stupid, really caused a heavy rift

when you and chani had gotten close again, it was the first time spring became clear to you

you like your best friend — that was even the reason you argued with him

however, despite being aware of your feelings, you never made a move

maybe if you were braver back then you could have known that he had also liked you

©9h4mn | all contents belong to me. do not modify or repost.

[darkenedreaper]

So Was I

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x reader, Avengers x reader.

Warnings: angst, strong violence, language.

Part: 5/5

A/n: I’d like to state that I made up a few lines of poetry and I’m proud of myself.

For the time you had been taken it seemed like your body had been put under severe treatment. At this point you could’ve been gone for months. You recognised the big symbol that was painted onto the wall. Hydra. They had been testing on you, testing on the Avenger. Every day you’d go through a new pain until they found the right one. From what you could catch they were planning on using you as their next super soldier. They had obviously saw the News and what had happened and who did it to you, so they took their chance and succeeded. You were laying back onto the white bed, your arc reactor now had a new red vibranium lining on the outside of it and your new suit which stood beside you, was black, with the logo on the back. You felt stronger, stronger than you would after training, stronger than you would after once pinning Steve on his back. Steve. Steve Rogers, your enemy according to Hydra. And ‘let’s not forget’ they said ‘what that Russian Widow did you to you’. They now began another experiment on you, testing a new serum.

Back at the compound and above the ground. It had been 10 months, 3 weeks, 2 days 6 hours that you had been missing for. To say they were all ashamed would be an understatement.

Steve wanted to get away from his shield, he couldn’t look at it let alone touch it. On his wardrobe floor where he had placed it 10 months ago, it had pieces of the glass from your arc reactor surrounding it. From the impact, some of the glass had melted to his shield. He didn’t want to be reminded of it, but his tears for you couldn’t help but.

Tony nearly drunk his whole cabinet if it wasn’t for Bruce dragging him back to the lab. And then went Tony was alone, the man would cry.

Bruce didn’t want to focus on the thought of you being tortured, which you were or experimented on, which you were. But he did focus on doing everything to find your arc on the map somewhere.

Thor went back to Asgard and he didn’t want back to Asgard and he spat in everyone’s face that he didn’t want to talk to them unless the found you. His mother back at home was increasing getting worried of your absence.

Clint was home aswell to his wife and kids. Laura distanced herself from him whilst he was back there as she thought of you as family. The kids just drew drawings and tried to make their Daddy and Mommy feel better.

Wanda and Vision tried to buck up the team, but they were falling apart themselves and if they didn’t have each other, they’d be lost.

Bucky spent time on his own, he would stay in your room and sit in your chair, hoping you’d walk in the door and do his hair. He felt his arm was tainted but there was nothing he could do about that, so he tried his best to find you with Steve.

Natasha. She wallowed. She was dying inside. She wondered if the heartbreak she was going through was what you felt all those months, creeping around hiding from the team. If it was what you felt when she watched the shield drive into your heart. She didn’t dare go in your room. She couldn’t. She couldn’t look at herself.

She worked night and day trying to track you down, on every mission, in every country, yet all were failures.

They barely spoke to each other now. You affected them massively and they wanted their Y/N back. Whether you hated them or tried to kill them, they’d be so joyful that you were back.

Right now you felt best coursing through your veins and the machine that was attached around your head was slowly vanishing away your memories. You could feel all your knowledge slipping away from you. Your weaknesses being taken over from the amount of power your body had. You yelled out in pain as they would boost it up, clear it was working. A huge flash of light took over the large base and you were listening for your first command. You saw your Commander walk up to your face and he saw the change in your eyes. He snapped his fingers towards the leather straps that had metal chains wrapped over them. And you broke free from them. You hadn’t gotten taller perhaps a few inches, but your muscles were evident as your suit was placed onto you.

You were supplied with 4 guns and 3 knives. Your arc reactor had layers of protective and bulletproof glass coated over it. Now you were unbreakable. You didn’t have a name. You didn’t remember. You don’t remember your friends or if you had any, or any family. All you were focused on was your mission, the Avengers. And your main targets were ‘Captain America’ and ‘Black Widow’.

When you had been brainwashed they had managed to rid of everything except the torture the Avengers put you through. The heartbreak and physical damage. You were given your own jet and a black helmet with a red H on the front and you went off to the compound in search of one of your targets. And it wouldn’t take you long to get there.

Night had fallen at the Avengers compound and they were all in the sitting room. Silently watching a movie that no one was paying attention to. Jarvis seemed upset as he wouldn’t talk to anyone anymore, unless that was because she hadn’t been looked after for months. Friday nearly disabled herself because she was so mad at her boss. If she were a human she’d be looking for you non stop as you often had conversations with the AI.

They had all dragged each other for ‘bonding time’. They were so down and ashamed that no one heard heavy footsteps. Until Bucky picked up on the reflection and he sat up a smile on his face as it could be you.

And around the corner you came, every Avenger jumping up from their seats. No one noticed the Hydra suit because they were so focused on your breathing body. Until Natashas gaze landed on your eyes. She saw it wasn’t you, well it was. But right now you were a Hydra agent trying to kill the Avengers.

“Y/N!” Tony shouted with a big grin on his face. You pulled dour your gun and shot above his head and you would’ve gotten him if it wasn’t for Bucky pulling him away as they all scattered off in all directions. Right now you were behind a man known as Hulk. You were shooting everywhere at everyone who crossed your path or came into view. You were putting multiple holes in walls at once and you put your gun back and instead ran towards the coward and grabbed him t shirt nearly picking him up off the ground. You got out a knife from your thigh pocket and nearly jabbed it into him if it wasn’t for that voice that came from behind you and him.

“Y/N.”

You recognised the voice as Black Widow and she was a main target so you flung the other man into a wall, crashing him into the next room. You ran after her and you were nearly faster than her if it wasn’t for her jumping up into a vent. So you took a gun and starting shooting holes in the vents, hearing scurries of fear through the vents. Your super soldier hearing picked up on a whisper that came from East.

It was Tony and Wanda. They thought they were hidden as Tony was crawling towards the table with his iron fist on.

With one quick shot you blew it up. Wanda tried getting into your head but she couldn’t even get past the thick line of Hydra.

“Come on Y/N I made that! It’s Tin-Man you know me!”

He kept calling out a name you didn’t know and as he hit the wall you took a look at his arc reactor and looked at yours. You saw his hand pout from his to yours.

“The same. You see. It’s Tony.”

You put your hand around his throat and lifted him up, his head hitting the ceiling, and you started punching at his bright light. Groans, pleads and yells at you to stop game from his mouth but you soon threw him to the side aswell, discarding of him while he collapsed onto the floor. Watching you walk away, walking on the glass that had fallen from his reactor.

You went in search for the girl who was trying to break into your head and instead you ran into the man with the metal arm known as the Winter Solider. He was trying to call out your name trying to talk to you but you shut him up by grabbing him arm and jamming a piece of glass into his weak spot where the arm connected to the body. Footsteps were approaching and it was the girl again. You took a knife and held it in the air to jam into ‘Buckys’ throat but your knife was thrown across the room with some sort of red magic around it. You threw the limp body of the other super soldier towards the girl and she was too slow to react as he came crashing down into her.

The compound was a mess, glass everywhere, holes everywhere, a little spark came from a wire where your bullet had hit it.

Vision had also been seen to. He just approached you and you didn’t even acknowledge him so you just drove the bottom of your gun into his temple sending him down, and kicking him out of your way.

You would finish the targets of after you’d found your other two. You went towards the hangar where their jets were stored to see no one around.

Meanwhile, Steve was on his way down to you. His shield in his hands, not strapped onto him arm.

You knew who was behind you and pointed your gun to the troubled and saddened man who stopped in his tracks.

“Y/N. I know your in there.”

You walked up to him and smashed the gun into his face, making him fall onto his side, shield still in his hands. He got up.

“You’re not a Hydra agent. Your Y/N. Our family.”

With a grunt you hit his stomach with your fist, sending him flying backwards. He got up.

“I’m sorry Y/N.”

And now you sent your boot into his chest and made him fall on his back. This time he struggled to get up.

You had punched and kicked him so far bad that you near the edge of the runway, splashed of the water hundreds of feet beneath you. He got up.

“I’m not gonna fight you.”

He tossed his shield away from him, trying to bring you back. His face was bleeding, his back was in agony and his suit was torn because of how far and harsh he skidded backwards.

“Your my friend.”

It was an odd feeling, one you hadn’t felt for months. Did you know him? Steve? No. He was your target right? And you went with your head. As soon as he saw movement from your feet dashing towards him, he didn’t move. If you were to kill him he wouldn’t envy you, he would’ve said he deserves it. His head didn’t hit the ground and he was now on the edge of the cliff with you above him, one fist balled into his suit and the other clenched.

“Your my mission.”

The first time he heard you speak in months and it was this.

After the first punch his eye had already began to close over. The second punch, his facial skin was torn. The third punch, both nostrils began to bleed. “Your.” The fourth punch his lip cut. “My.” The fifth punch, his lip bled out. “Mission!” The sixth punch sent his head lolling around.

You had to stop to consider if what you were doing was right. You knew this man. You knew them all.

“Then finish it.” His voice broke.

“Cause I’ll go with whatever your ordered.”

He even nodded confirming that it was okay for you to kill him.

He was talking about him being your target to kill. You were ready. You were so ready to throw him off the edge of it wasn’t for that voice.

Calling out a name. You turned your head and got up. The red head was standing. Arms crossed. She had fear and tears in her eyes. As soon as you stood quickly her arms unfolded like lightening.

She took a step back as you slowly approached her, getting a knife from your pocket.

“Y/N, this isn’t you. You need to listen to me. Y/N please.”

Your anger had slowly started to build again inside you.

“Stop saying that goddamn name it’s fucking pissing me off.”

Her mouth was bobbing open and closed. She wanted to sob at seeing how you were. She wanted to see those E/C eyes staring back at her instead of the blank ones that had one thing in mind.

“Do you not know me?” She was starting to walk back into the weapons room but she had no intention of doing any harm to you. And if you wanted to beat her and kill her then so be it. She’d let you. Your fist that was empty was slowly beginning to ball up but you couldn’t hit her and why? You didn’t know.

“моя любовь, пожалуйста, послушай меня.”

The Russian sentence of ‘my love please listen to me’.

It caused you to snap and you swung at her face, causing her to groan and stumble backwards.

“Do not tell me to listen to you. I’m not your fucking love.”

She wanted to cup her face as she felt the bruise appearing but that would be selfish after everything you’ve been through.

“Ты понимаешь русский мой дорогой”

‘Do you understand Russian my dear?’

You were never taught Russian at your Hydra base so why could you understand it. You took heavy breathes and you had a confused look on your face because your lip trembled and anger was painted onto your face again. You threw your fist at her again causing her head to snap backwards and blood tricked down her lip.

She was exhausted. The sleepless nights without you, the guilt drowning her. You ran towards her and she put her arms up to defend herself but you were quick to pull them down and you landed kicks to her side and plenty of hard punches to her ribs. By the time she had cornered herself she was sure a rib or two were broken. Her forehead was gashed and bleeding. Her sides hurt like hell and her neck was strained and had knots in the muscles because of how many times her head had flung back from the strength of your fists. You were still standing strong and unharmed and that was when you retrieved your knife again.

“Моя любовь, когда ты вернешься дома, только тогда я буду дышать, моя дорогая, когда ты узнаешь мое имя, только тогда я буду улыбаться. Когда ты вернешься ко мне, только тогда мое сердце поправится.” ‘My love, when you get home, only then will I breathe. My darling, when you know my name, only then will I smile. When you return to me, only then will my heart recover.’

You were lost in thought and you could hear voices just like hers whispering that into your ear late at night or when you had gotten back from a tough mission. You heard other voices. Buck? T? Banner? Wands? Vis? Stevie?

“Natasha?”

She had tears freely falling and she noticed your tight grip on your knife still. She nodded and she slowly approached you limping but smiling to herself as you didn’t tense or move backwards.

“But you hurt me.”

She nodded again as she was in front of you now, subtly slipping the knife from your hand. She took of your helmet and placed it on the floor alongside the knife. She could see it in your eyes. The good and bad memories coming back to you. But she could see hesitance.

“I’m sorry Y/N. I’m sorry. I’m sorry but please stop this. This isn’t you Y/N, it never has been and never will be.”

You took in her words and started to accept her, not yet forgiving her and the team for what they had done to you. She knew you were still going to be a super soldier and she knows her and the teams’ actions were always going to haunt you. She placed her hand on your arc reactor and it felt like home. All she could do was hope. Hope that you still had forgiveness in your heart. Time would need to be taken for you to heal. For the hydra walls to break down. But she would be there for you. She’d do whatever it would take for you to forgive her, for her to get you back.

They all would.

(My gif use as you want)

@natasha-danvers @imnotasuperhero @aaron-despair @confusinggemini612 @thewidowsghost @ecruzsalaz @fcbarcelona-and-marvel-4-life @gaytrashgoblin @capmarvelq @nat-romanoffdanvers @lesbian-x-blackwidow @emilyprentisswife @captain-josslett @fayhar @oblivious-horny-lesbian @trikruismybitch @summergeezburr @username23345 @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

[something-fanfiction-ie]

Page Numbers

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Detailed descriptions of crime scenes, mentions of rape and sexual assault, murder. Just getting into the angst guys...

A/N: So I decided after like two people responded (thank you guys) to split the second part into two because it was so ridiculously long. You guys don’t even want to know how much I had to cut off this to end this at a place I felt comfortable. Rest assured, you’ll probably get the next part tomorrow. Remember to like, comment, reblog, message me, send me asks, and just do anything to feed my constant need for praise and attention from strangers. As always, thank you so much! I love you all and I hope you enjoy!

___

[Part One]

“I can never figure out if I like local cases more because I get to sleep in my own bed every night we work the case, or if they make me more uncomfortable because they’re so close to home.”

Rossi glanced at Morgan, who cast his eyes to the review mirror as he spoke. Reid sat in the back, a little smile playing at the corners of his lips as he read something on his phone.

The youngest member of the BAU team had been uncharacteristically chipper over the last three weeks, constantly taking calls or responding to texts. Even when he started to ramble about something no one was really interested in listening to, the topics were about things that were of a happier nature. Things like a single grain of rice having five times more DNA than an entire human being has in their whole body, or that the term ‘nerd’ first showed up in print in the book, If I Ran the Zoo, by Dr. Seuss published in 1951.

He shoved the cell back into his pocket, looking up into Morgan’s eyes in the mirror. He knew that they knew that something was up, but he didn’t want to say anything until it got a little more serious. And it was rapidly going that way. Spencer had spent nearly every second of his free time with you, doing things like getting coffee or going back to the bookstore that just so happened to be forty minutes out of his way.

In fact, just last week you had come over to his house to have dinner and watch a movie. You begged him to watch The Princess Bride instead of some very obscure French movie that no normal person would actually own.

“I love all the new and intelligent things you show me, Spencer, but I want to show you a new and slightly less intelligent thing. Let me rub off on you for a change.”

You quoted the entire thing, your lips silently moving with every word spoken during the movie. Afterward, you confessed that you had read the book even more than you’d seen the movie and could probably quote it just as easily. He picked up a copy from the library this morning before coming into work. While he hadn’t had the chance to read it yet, or either of your own published works, he was determined to finish it before he saw you again.

It was only 493 pages, so it shouldn’t take him that long.

“What?” He blinked, his brows dipping dangerously close to those impossibly long lashes of his. Morgan looked back to the road, his own amusement twitching at his cheeks.

The car bumped over a dip in the road just before they pulled into the already packed driveway of the crime scene. Rossi shut the car off and Morgan pulled his sunglasses on before getting out of the car, but not without a teasing comment.

“Get your head in the game long enough to solve this case and you can go back to whatever has had your attention these last couple of weeks. Okay, kid?” The blush that colored his cheeks was the same shade as when he realized you were staring at him in awe that first time you met.

Inside, the mood of teasing and distractedness changed. Everyone focused while crime scene techs circled the room taking pictures and gathering every bit of tangible evidence they could possibly find.

The first victim, or by the looks of things, the last victim, was a male in his early to mid-forties. His salt and pepper hair was combed back and styled, his beard perfectly trimmed. Even in death his clothes were unrumpled, only the pool of blood-soaked into his khaki pants and maroon shirt ruined the look of an otherwise very put-together man.

He was slouched in a wooden chair pulled into the living room from the dining room table, his hands bound behind his back with three blue zip ties, his ankles bound to the legs of the chair exactly the same way.

“The victim is forty-four year old, Joseph Kyle. He’s a lawyer with Kyle & Anderson. Cause of death appears to be two gunshot wounds to the chest.”

The next victim was a woman. She wasn’t as put together as her husband, laying in a pool of her own blood on the kitchen floor. Bruises and cuts littered her arms and legs, massive handprints still marred the skin around her biceps. It went without asking that she had been sexually assaulted, her underwear hanging on the knob of a drawer and her skirt bunched around the top of her thighs.

“Synthia Kyle, forty. Stay at home mom. She was stabbed sixty-one times in the abdomen, chest, and thighs.”

The last three victims were children. Each in their own rooms, each tucked into bed and shot in the head execution-style. One look around the room and anyone would know that they were happy kids, smart and well-rounded, and loved.

“James, Massey, and Devan Kyle. Seventeen, fifteen, and ten. All shot in the head.”

For all the evidence that could be seen with their eyes; the brutal attack against the mother, the cold killing of the father, and the remorseful executions of the children, it shouldn’t have been so hard to form a profile.

“And where is the number?” Reid turned his whole body away from the little boy's room, the image of him lying in bed with his eyes closed and a bullet hole in his head was enough to turn the pits of his stomach against him.

The lead detective, a slight man with inky black curls and piercing blue eyes, led them into the dining room. The number ‘302’ was smeared across a painting hanging on the wall, the blood so thickly layered over the Botecelli copy that is dripped down and over the golden frame.

“At first glance, it would appear to be a family annihilator. His primary goal being the rape and torture of Synthia Kyle, and the rest of the family simply casualties of his rage, but just like the last three crimes, there is nothing even remotely similar in victimology or the killings.” Reid’s lips skewed to the side, crossing his arms and combing over every detail.

“Alison Crane was sexually assaulted as well.” Morgan offered the information up with skepticism, aware that, besides the numbers at every crime scene, it was the only thing that could be pulled from the two. Rossi shook his head, his eyes scanning the air as he thought.

“Alison Crane was kidnapped and beaten before she was found three days later on the Chesapeake Bay. Her wrists slashed. She was staged with remorse, a-a cloth laid over her eyes and her arms crossed over her chest. That couldn’t have been done by the same unsub.” Rossi looked over at Morgan because even still, they knew that it was the same guy because cut into the top of Alison’s arm had been the number nineteen.

It had taken Reid all of two seconds to realize they were page numbers when he’d seen the piece of paper that had been pinned to the second victim’s chest. Obviously torn from a book, the triangle scrap of paper had only had the number 85 printed on it.

And just as difficult as it had been to pin down a book during the Fisher King case, it felt as if it was ten thousand times harder to find the book being used now. All they had were page numbers and murders. They’d narrowed the list to crime novels, but there were still so many books on the list that even with Reid, it would take years to sift through them all.

Garcia has been sad to watch the young doctor leave her office in disappointment when she revealed her ability to narrow down books was still no good. Not that it was her fault since the lack of a central database for every book known to man, made it very frustrating for anyone that tried to narrow down a book based only on crime scenes. And this was still given the assumption that this book was actually published and not a story the unsub had written himself.

This would be the third homicide in this case, the first one done since the FBI had been asked to assist the DCPD. The crossing of victimology and the numbers on the victims had been enough for unit chief, Hugh Lowe to pick up his phone and request for the BAU to stop this man.

Other than the book revelation, and the geographical profile that Reid had come up with, there wasn’t much progress. It had only been two weeks since the death of the first victim and now their unsub’s body count had gone from two to seven.

A young woman kidnapped outside her dorm in Georgetown, held hostage, beaten, and raped for three days, then staged at the Chesapeake Bay with her wrists slashed and clean clothes on.

An older man was beaten in his home while his wife is away on business overseas, killed with a tire iron to the back of his head, stripped of his clothes, which sat folded beside his splayed out body, his ring finger cut off. His wedding ring had been on the clothes beside him but they couldn’t find the finger.

And now a family of five.

It was frustrating, to say the least, each agent so annoyed by the case that none of them spoke on the ride back to the BAU.

“So I don’t have the book, mon ami, but I do have a possible connection in victimology and a shortlist of possible suspects, or at the very least persons of interest,” Garcia said excitedly when all three glowering men came through the clear doors of the BAU. They each lifted their heads and eyebrows with piqued curiosity.

“My link is Georgetown. Alison was going there for a major in political science, Mr. Walters had been a chemistry teacher there before the death of his first wife ten years ago, and I just found out that our newest victims, Synthia and Joseph, met there in the spring of ‘88 as a senior and a freshman.” Garcia had to admit that their minds were quick to gather the information, turning it over in the cogs that constantly spin inside their brains, but her mind was faster.

“Did you-“

“Cross-reference Georgetown alumni with a list of crime novelists? And then cross-reference that list with people who lived in Spence’s comfort zone? ‘How did you know to do that Garcia?’ you may ask. Because I’m a genius. Quick, boys, follow me.” Her heels click in rapid succession as she leads the men into her office of computers, colorful do-dads, and pictures. When she takes a seat, Morgan leans directly over her shoulder, Reid standing just behind her, and Rossi stands just to the side of him.

The list that pops up is only four names, the tension that has been in all of their shoulders relaxes a little at the first stride in the case that they’ve made sense they started working it. Reid’s shoulders tense up again when he notices a familiar name that sits at the bottom of the list.

“This one, click on it.” He points to the line at the end and watches as Garcia moves her mouse over to the area he was pointing to and clicks to reveal a face he knows too well.

You smile back at him in your freshman year Georgetown photo, a set of bangs cut that you don’t have anymore. In the picture you seem impossibly young, your eyes full of excitement, although he knows that you aren’t that much younger than he is. Even still, for some reason, he half expects your smile to be missing teeth you seem so young.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), graduated from Georgetown in 2000 with a master's in criminology. She’s published two crime novels in the last two years. She doesn’t have too much of an eventful life; she isn’t married, has no children, pays all of her bills on time, has no detectable significant other. Mom is a detective with the Atlanta PD, Dad walked out before she was born, no siblings, nothing more than a couple speeding tickets against her.” Rossi pulls one of his hands from his folded arms, pointing at the picture with squinted eyes.

“I met her last year, very briefly, at a publishing party. We couldn’t have talked for more than ten seconds, but she seemed like a good kid. You think she’s our unsub?” Everyone looks to Reid, his expression is stone cold and unreadable.

Garcia almost wishes she hadn’t made the connection in the first place as she watches the muscle in his jaw tick, his eyes flying across the screen several times before he turned away from the group’s prying eyes. Nerves of a whole other kind had exploded inside him, forcing his hands to open and close like fluttering butterfly wings at his sides.

“I’m not sure. Just call her in for questioning.” He wants to say he doesn’t think it’s you, mostly because he doesn’t want it to be you. The thought that he could have invited a serial killer of this magnitude into his life, into the life of his team, it makes him even more nauseated than he had been earlier standing in the middle of a messy crime scene.

But when he runs to the library and finds both copies of your books, flipping to pages nineteen, eighty-five, and three hundred and two, he almost cries. On each page reads a word for word, detailed description of every murder that had happened in this case so far. The first girl even had the same name as the first victim.

By the time you make it to the BAU and you are escorted to the interrogation room, he’s read both books cover to cover. He keeps telling himself that there’s a chance you weren’t doing this, that you weren’t the killer, but it’s so hard to believe when you were the mind behind every murder.

As he looks at you from behind the one-way window pane, a mixture of anger and, strangely, hope has begun to swirl around his chest.

“You sure you don’t want to come in with me?” Prentiss says, looking back at the doctor as she reaches for the door. Spencer shakes his head, lips pursed and heart racing. He couldn’t go in their unbiased, willing to accept that you could be the unsub he’d been chasing for the last two weeks.

“Hi, I’m SSA Emily Prentiss with the BAU, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” She stretches her hand across the table and you return in kind, your shy smile stabbing into Reid’s heart like a knife.

“I’d like to say it is nice to meet you too, but I wish it were under other circumstances.” The chair across from you screeches on the floor as Emily pulls it out to sit in. She absentmindedly flicks her slick black hair over her shoulder before laying the files in front of her.

“Unfortunately, I’m always under circumstances like these, working at the BAU.”

“‘Bad guys don’t take days off,’ that’s what my mom used to say,” You glance at the file on the table, chewing the inside of your cheek like you were trying to keep yourself from saying anything more, “I was told I was needed to give my opinion on a case? Although, I’m not sure how I could be of much help. I just write.”

Spencer watches you push a piece of your hair behind your ear with a small chuckle, glancing at the window like you could see him behind it.

“You’re a published author of two books, not just any writer.” Prentiss is relaxed, letting the case file sit between you like a hook dangling between a fish and a fisherman. You keep looking down at it, curiosity eating away at your nerves the way it used to when your mother came home with a new case.

“Tell that to my mom, she’s still holding out on me joining law enforcement.” It’s a joke, but every profiler watching reads into it. It isn’t hard to fit it into a working profile, the unsub feels unappreciated in her skills as an author with the apparent disapproval her mother has over her career. To both appease her mother and stake her claim as a serious author, the unsub is killing the same way she’s written in her books.

“Why didn’t you? Join law enforcement, I mean. You’re obviously very intelligent, you had a masters from Georgetown at just seventeen, and you seem to have a pretty good grasp on the politics and procedures of law enforcement careers.” For just a moment, you consider the question and your answer to it, but Spencer can see the exact moment that it clicks in your mind on what exactly is going on.

Your entire body language changes; your shoulders curling in toward your body, the chewing of your cheek intensifying, your hands pulling back from their relaxed position on the table and tangling themselves into your lap.

“I’m not here as a possible expert witness, am I, Agent Prentiss?”

Emily responds by opening the file, at last, pushing the pictures of the crime scenes across the table for you to have a look at. Seven pictures splay out in front of you and it doesn’t take you long to register the familiarity behind them all. You have to swallow the bile in your mouth before you speak again.

“I’m a suspect.”

“You’re the only suspect.”

[writingsfromhome]

Collaboration

A/N: This one's told from Harry's pov. I just wanted to have some fun with dialogue, trying fluff for once (I think?)

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

The flashing lights on the red carpet bring back the headache that was pounding my temples since this morning. I grit my teeth and pose for the last show before making eye contact with my manager. I’m ushered along, a few people calling out for an interview. My manager whispers one would be good for image so I sigh and find myself in one of those millenial gossip journalists.

She asks what I’m wearing, I show off the shimmery fabric of my pantsuit and the fringe on the legs.

“So we heard rumours, Y/N Y/L/N and you are working on an album together?”

I lean in and pretend to look intrigued but my heart picks up speed just from hearing her name. “Who said that?”

The journalist plays her part and laughs at my joke. I say seriously, “I would love to collab with her anytime, she’s a legend. But I haven't even got her digits."

She says something sympathetic, "maybe things will change tonight."

"I hope so! I'm even wearing my liucky ring," I show it off to the camera. Finally the bit is over and I walk into the cool building. People are already breaking into groups and lost guests look for their name.

I knew I would see Y/N today, it was always a mystery whether she would show up to these award shows. She started young in the industry, a child-actor turned singer when she released a single to a movie she starred in as a teen and it stayed in the top charts for months. She was pretty private as far as celebrities went and she didn't always show up to these things. But the couple times I interacted with her we had hit it off. The first was just a casual acquaintance when our mutual friend introduced each other at a premiere.

The second, though, was at a restaurant. The people I was having dinner with invited her party to our table. She had ended up squished beside me but we talked the whole night. We thought alike and turned out she was a big fan of my music, had even attended my concert, proven by some photos she showed me on her phone. I confessed I had a big crush on her in her earlier movies when I was a kid. She teased me and I let her. But we forgot to exchange numbers so I didn't actually talk to her after that. If we had, I would definitely ask her about collaborating.

"Just had to ask Jen, here." My manager comes by with a bottle of water and the painkiller in my hand. I take it gratefully and then he pushes me to my seat. I glance around, a couple familiar names. But mostly it seemed like I was seated with couples. To be the 7th wheel. And my chair had its back to the stage. Whoever planned this did not like me.

The lead up to the start of the awards is a rush of hugs and catching up with people. It isn't until I sit down, my chair turned to face the stage, that I realise Y/N is here and sitting a table down, her chair angled to the stage but she catches my eye.

I can't help the smile that overtakes my face but I manage to resist waving at her like a child. She gives me a nod but her lips tug up into a shy smile as she focuses her eyes on the stage.

We get introductions, a skit, and a performance. They announce some winners and then they announce the surprise performance by Y/N. I hadn't even realised she'd left.

It's so quiet you could hear a pin drop, the stage blacking out until a single light shines. Y/N steps under it and begins, it starts off slow but by the chorus there are dancers and an old school car and a gown with fake blood as she sits atop the car with the dagger sticking out of her chest as she belts out her song. The final notes ring out when she pulls the dagger free and it clatters to the floor. And the entire audience goes crazy. I'm standing clapping and grinning like an idiot. Y/N makes eye contact with me and winks. People turn in my direction but I don't make it obvious it was me. I didn't want any rumours about us.

As the night moves forward, I catch eyes with Y/N a few times. The first time I raise my eyebrows and mimick pulling a dagger out of my chest. She hides her smile behind the pamphlet. The second time she catches me staring at her, she pretends to look annoyed and I pretend to hide my face with my hand. When I check her face she's trying to hide her laugh. Someone behind her leans in to whisper something but she keeps her eyes on me.

I feel like I'm on cloud 9. Not only did I finally see Y/N after so long but she remembered me. And I think she was flirting with me! Maybe she would show up to the after party.

During the break, she motions to the meet her in the foyer and I don't even wait a few minutes. I'm right behind her and follow her into a little enclosure off to the side.

"Hi," I say casually.

"Hi," she smiles. "Long time no see. I like what you're wearing."

"Thanks. You look lovely yourself. I wasn't sure I would see you tonight."

"It's been a while since I've been plucked and prodded and red-carpet ready. A girl misses the feeling of flashing lights and ten reporters asking what you're wearing." She flips her hair over her shoulder, sarcasm in full effect.

"Sounds like you need a drink," I suggest.

"God, yes." She grabs my arm and I lead her to the bar, she leans in next to me as I order for us.

I watch as she takes a sip of the drink I ordered for her. She looks surprised and takes another sip. It settles in even more how normal this felt. And my childhood crush never really went away.

"You should order for me more often. I usually just stick to what I know." She comments.

"Then you should go out with me more often," I say.

She responds by clinking her glass against mine, a mischevious look in her eye.

"What's that look?" I ask.

"What look?"

"The one you're giving me right now!"

"I'm just looking at you!"

"Then what are you thinking? Because you're not just looking at me! You're giving me the look!"

"The look," she scoffs like I was making it up.

"It's there," I tap her temples. "What are you thinking in there?"

"I really don't think you want to know what I'm thinking," she says into her drink.

"No, now I really want to know," I wait for her to move the glass away from her mouth.

"No you don't. It's...not very appropriate." She doesn't look me in the eyes, pretending to be interested on what the little menus read.

"Inappropriate thoughts are my favourite," I say. She looks up and is about to say something.

"Harry!" Someone calls from the side and I'm disappointed that the conversation is cut short. I wanted to know even though I already knew but I greet some friends instead. when I turn backY/N's gone. Damn.

I find her back in her seat but she's talking to a few women I remember she was in movies with in her early days. But it's like she senses me because she turns to look as I sit down. I narrow my eyes at her, she looks away.

When I win for single of the year, I stumble onto stage. I was sure I wouldn't win this. Luckily my manager had made me practice something on the way here just in case but every word leaves my brain when I glance at Y/N and she has the same expression from earlier. I knew she was thinking something inappropriate and that just clears my head of anything except her.

"Sorry I've got some stage fright it seems," I joke and everyone laughs. Phew.

I manage to get some words out, give my thanks and walk back to my table in a daze. People congratulate me but I barely know who. This was a dream come true for me, and nearby a very dreamy woman was giving me eyes and I didn't know how this night could get any more surreal.

But it does.

***

By the time I get ready to leave for the afterparty, I'd waited for inscribing and more congrats, some pictures and group pictures of winners. I'm tired and stop by my hotel to change into something more casual. I didn't see Y/N and I give up hope that I would. Her going to an awards show and an afterparty were rare. She must have disappeared again, without leaving her number. I would just have to wait for a next time.

But when I get to my hotel door, a figure sits outside it.

"Hello?" I call from afar, if this was a fan that somehow got in there was going to be a security issue. But the person looks up and it's just Y/N. Her glam from earlier is wiped off, she has on just tights and a tanktop. She quickly stands up.

"I didn't see you at the party. Wasn't much in the mood to mingle. I thought I would try your room."

"How did you know my room?" I ask as I open the door and leave it open for her.

"I'm a floor above, I saw you leave."

"So you're stalking me now?" I ask.

"If I remember correctly you were the one watching me all night."

"Really?" I drop my things on the floor and dig through the drawer for a shirt and jeans. "If I remember, you were the one with inappropriate thoughts."

"I never said that," she says as she picks up the award I put on the table. "Congratulations by the way. You totally deserve this like I told you!"

Y/N references part of the conversation we had at that dinner. When she revealed she was a fan, said she was in the industry for years and she saw I had promise.

"And that compliment kept me going through the whole album." It was true, she gave me a boost of confidence that helped keep me focused and crank it out in time.

"So where's my shoutout?" She sits on the desk, her feet swinging back and forth.

"Third song on the album," I say smoothly.

"Really?" She stares. The song was about a mystery woman just being the girl next door. Exactly how I felt about Y/N. "You wrote a song about me? Wow. Not even my exes have given me the honour."

"You deserve a million songs written about you," I say truthfully. Y/N was a special woman-misunderstood and misinterpreted. But she was a powerful singer and a funny, honest, and kind human.

"You're a sweet-talker Harry Styles." Y/N leans back and I can't avoid the way the fabric of her tanktop stretches over her body. She notices and smirks. "It's unfortunate you're just all talk though."

"All talk?" I decide two can play at the game. I take off my silk shirt and wait a few before slipping on my tshirt. I notice her eyes trailing down my body and it gives me the confirmation to step towards her. I put my hands on her thighs, and she parts her legs automatically. I step in between them but stay inches away from her face, "I do more than just talk."

"So show me," she says, her gaze going down to my lips.

"Only if you tell me what you were thinking tonight," I challenge.

"You're still on that?"

"I want to know."

"How about I show you instead."

In a surprising move, she pushes me back and stands up before shoving me onto the bed. It takes me a moment to recover but I'm smiling as the whole Y/N finally comes out of her shell. She peels the tanktop off of her and walks towards me. I lean back on my elbows.

"I wish you showed me earlier," I say. She shuts me up with a passionate kiss.

***

I'd lost track of time, the rising sun the only tell of how much time had passed. Y/N lies on the pillow beside me, her face peaceful as she sleeps. Her hand is loosely intertwined through mine between us. It was a wild night collaborating after all-just not in a way we wanted share. I almost want to pinch myself to be sure this was real. The woman of my dreams with me tonight. Several times over. Asleep as the first rays of sun leave a soft glow on her skin. She was as beautiful as ever.

I must have fallen asleep too because I wake up with a pressure on my chest. I'm flat on my back and Y/N's head is resting on my chest as she stares at my face.

"I can see up your nose," she comments.

"Stop looking," I mumble in my croaky morning voice.

"I can't stop. It's just so dark and unexplored."

I close my eyes again, not realising she'd taken my finger to stick up my nose until she does. I sit up and she's thrown off of me. I sneeze once, and again. And turn to her.

"I don't like that loo-" she shouts as I pull her to me and hold her down to climb over her. I sneeze again as she wriggles underneath but pretty soon she stops as I kiss her.

"You're lucky I'm so nice," I say into her neck as I kiss her. "Or you would be in a lot more trouble."

"You are not nice," she giggles. "You didn't let me explore up your nos-okay okay!"

She cuts off as I tickle her sides, crying out to stop, saying she can't breathe. "I'll show you not nice," I tell her. I hold her hands above her head and pin it there before I kiss her down her body. She tries to free my grip but I hold on, using my other hand to move lower than my mouth could.

"You wouldn't," she looks me in the eye as I kiss her again.

"Well I'm not very nice," I whisper and watch her squirm underneath me. I finally let go of her hands and she pulls me to her to grip, rolling me over when I'm done so she's on top.

"I'll let you in on a secret, Styles." She tells me while I laugh at how flushed she'd gotten but I quiet when she pulls my arms up like I did to her and somehow finds the robe tie from the floor to tie them in place. "I'm not very nice either."

"Well who said I like nice girls?" I ask her. She only smiles before pulling the blanket over our heads and making sure she tortures me in the best possible way.

[harrysgloves]

Let Your Hair Down (chapter xi)

Get caught up with the Let Your Hair Down Masterlist!

word count: 6,521

story summary: Harry gets more than he bargains for when he falls not only for you but your little girl as well.

chapter summary: Date night!

warnings: Language.. and SMUT! YAY! male&female receiving oral/use of the word puppy/fingering/squirting.. oh and some nice fluffy things at the end. 

a/n: okay buckle up for a long one folks! I didn’t want to split the date night chapter up so... it’s a bit long but I’m pretty sure 75% of it is them screwing.. so you know.. Uh also editing not possible with this shit internet I’m forced to use tonight so.. keep that in mind. Enjoy! xx

>>><<<

"Where are we going?" You asked for what had to be the millionth time and he responded with the same smile and shake of his head that he'd been answering you with all night. You huffed and leaned back into your seat, arms crossing over your chest. You'd been in the car for over 15 minutes and you still had zero idea where you could be going.

You could see the enjoyment he was getting out of you getting so frustrated over this. You hated surprises and it's not like he didn't know that about you. The last surprise birthday party you had when everyone jumped out and said happy birthday, you screamed. Then cried until your anxiety passed. Sarah had never given you a surprise party after that.

"You know I hate surprises." You mumbled under your breath. Your eyes glued to the window watching all the buildings pass by you. You just needed a hint. Really anything to ease your mind. What if he decided to take you skydiving? Nope. You needed answers.

"I know." Was all he said back. That dumb smirk still plastered on his aggravatingly gorgeous face. You rolled your eyes and let out another huff.

"Cheer up. You'll love it once we get there." His hand reached over and rested on your leg.

"Oh no, you're not touching me until you tell me where we're going." You pushed his hand off your thigh and crossed your legs. This bitch really thought he could just say you'd love it and you'd trust him. He obviously didn't know you very well.

Your eyes were still glued to the window when you heard him laugh. His hand resting back on your thigh. Making you whip your head around towards him. You weren't sure what part of you're not touching me he didn't get but you were about to show him how serious you were being when the car came to a stop.

"We're here. So, can I touch you again?" His cheeky smile across his face as his thumb rubbed small circles on your thigh. You ignored him and looked around to see where you were.

Your eyes widened once you realized where you were. A bright smile across your face as you turned to Harry who was already looking at you. He looked worried about your reaction, his hands running nervously through his hair. You couldn't not throw yourself across the car and kiss him. He was the sweetest.

"What's that for?" He smiled against your lips, his hands running through your hair.

"I can't believe you remembered I've never been here. I told you that like a year ago." You laughed. Your forehead resting against his as you took in a deep breath, too much more of his thoughtful shit and you'd be a pile of mush on the ground.

"Always listen to yeh." He whispered softly before pulling you back in for a kiss and it was official, you were completely fucked over him.

It took you a bit to finally get out of his car. You weren't above sleeping with him right there to show him how happy he'd made you but he kept pushing your hands away, laughing.

"Come on, I can't keep sayin' no to ya much longer and I want us to actually go on a date."

A big pout was on your lips as he kissed your nose and reached for the door handle. Really, you didn't have to go. You were just happy he listens to you. It was a complete 180 from what you were used to before with your ex and you wanted to show him you appreciate his efforts. You eventually decided you'd show him later as he pulled you out of the car. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist as you walked side by side.

"Still can't believe you've never been to Coney Island Boardwalk." He pulled you in closer to him as you walked up a few steps and were finally on your first Boardwalk, ever.

"Never been to any boardwalk." You pulled back from him and took his hand in yours as you took in all the things around you. Sure, you'd seen boardwalks on movies and stuff but nothing compared to it in real life. It was so noisy and a lot more bright than you expected.

"How come?" Harry asked as he pulled you by your hand closer into his side. It was definitely more crowded than you were expecting it to be and you started to get a bit anxious at the thought of people stopping you two a million times to ask Harry for a picture. Maybe he hadn't really thought this through too well.

"My mom hates the beach so we never went when I was a kid." You laughed softly at the thought of her ever being around a beach. She really had an issue with sand.

"Then when I got older I just got busy. I never really had time to take vacation then Thea came along and all free time went out the window." You shrugged, never really caring that you'd missed out on something.

"Can't believe you've come here though. How do people not stop you all the time?" You looked up to him. Hoping he could put your worries at ease but the look on his face did the exact opposite. He looked so uncomfortable it made your skin crawl.

"Jus' part of life now." He tightened his grip on your hand when he started to chew the inside of his cheek. You realized life with him would never be normal. Or at least the type of normal you wanted.

"Oh." Was oh you could mumble out. You knew he caught the sight of your face falling slightly but he chose to ignore it. Which was probably for the best. You didn't want to ruin the night with your over thinking before it even started.

The awkward tension between you two quickly went away when you both got the area with all the games. You knew those games were nothing but a rip off. You'd end up spending double what any of the stuffed animals were actually worth but when you saw the large pink teddy bear you stopped in your tracks, making Harry stumble a bit, your hand still clutched in his.

"Oh my God," you pointed to the prize waiting to be won. "Thea would love that. We should try to get it."

"She would love it." Harry smiled up at the teddy bear, your eyes moving over to take him all in. Sometimes you had a hard time believing he could be so invested in not only you but your daughter as well.

You eagerly pulled him up to the stand, basically dragging him. You'd only tried a handful of times at this particular game at local fairs in your hometown. You had to throw a dart and pop so many balloons to get the prize. You were thanking your lucky stars you were a pro at darts from all the times you spent in a dingy bar back in your college days.

"How many?" The probably underpaid teenager asked when you both finally made it to the front.

"Uhm, just five." Harry let go of your hand to take out his wallet and laid down a 5 dollar bill.

"Hit one and you get a small prize. Three for any of the top shelf." The guy stepped to the side, letting Harry attempt to throw a dart. Which was the most tragic thing you'd ever witnessed. He missed all five times.

"How are you so bad at this?" You asked, trying to contain your giggles. Even the game attendant looked a little amused.

"Aye, I didn't have time to run around and play with darts." He huffed reaching back for his wallet but you stopped him. You slammed down your own five dollar bill and asked for five of your own darts.

"Gonna have to teach you some things." You smiled bright at him as you turned back around and threw a dart and hit on the first try. You could hear his unimpressed grumble from behind you but as your 5th dart in a row hit a balloon he looked at you in shock.

"How'd you do that?" He asked, his brows furrowed as he looked at the board with balloons pinned on it like it had personally betrayed him.

"Beer darts in the college bars." You shrugged but a proud smile was on your face as you were handed the oversized pink teddy bear. You quickly reached up and put it on Harry's shoulders for him to carry around for you. He gripped tightly onto the bears legs as you two moved on back into the crowd.

"Ohhhhh," you drew out as the sweet smell of fried foods filled your senses. "They have funnel cake!"

"Should have guessed we'd be heading right for the sweets." Harry smiled down towards you as you pushed his shoulder.

"I run on nothing but sugar and sleep deprivation." You pushed him towards the stand with the huge sign that said funnel cakes.

You both moved over to the side where no one was walking as you started to shove your mouth full of the powder sugar covered deep fried batter. Harry chuckled from beside you making you look up from your plate.

"Shut up." You rolled your eyes at him as you went back to happily eating your food.

"Y'got some on yer face, love." His smile didn't leave his face as his hand came up to wipe away some of the powder sugar from the corner of your mouth.

"Got some here too." He leaned down and pressed his lips to yours quickly before his warm tongue swiped across your bottom lip. He pulled back before you had the chance to further the kiss, you pouted up to him, upset he didn't let you kiss him back properly.

"Wanted a good kiss." You sighed, looking up at him with those big doe eyes he couldn't say no to.

"All my kisses are good." His hand came up to his chest, acting all offended. You rolled your eyes. He knew exactly what you meant but he leaned down and gave you a kiss on your forehead. You smiled as you felt his lips linger for a second. This was definitely better than the funnel cake but you'd never tell him that.

It was late by the time you and Harry started to make it back towards his car. You definitely shouldn't have worn the high heeled boots you had on but they went so well with the outfit that you thought it would be fine but after over 3 hours of walking around you hated them with a passion.

"My feet are killing me." You whined, shaking Harry's hand a bit as you threw your mini tantrum, but he just smiled at you stopping in front of you and crouched down a bit.

"Hop on." His back facing towards you and your eyes widened at what he wanted you to do.

"No way! You'll drop me." You tried to walk past him but he stopped you by grabbing your hand.

"Already carried you to bed, darling." His cheeky smile on his face shining bright as you grumbled your way back around and jumped on his back.

"Don't wanna hear you complaining in five minutes when you're tired." You laid your head on his shoulder as his hands went to support your legs. You held the ridiculous sized bear you'd won earlier in the night in your hand as he took off walking.

"Never complain about having ya on me." He said, causing you to laugh but swat at his chest.

"Shut up. People will hear you one of these times." You buried your head in the crook of his neck, hiding your embarrassment.

"Don't want anyone to know what dirty things you do to me in bed, love?" You could hear the gloating in his voice as you pushed away from him. Fuck this, he wasn't going to tease you and try to be sweet at the same time. You tried to get off him but he only gripped your legs tighter and laughed at your struggling.

"'M just messin'." You decided to let it go as you two finally made it back to the car and he let you down.

You sighed as you finally settled into the car. It had been a long night and you were so excited to get these torture devices off your feet. You had no idea how Harry managed to wear those boots all night long without feeling like he was walking on glass. You jumped slightly at the sound of his door slamming, pulling you out of your thoughts.

"Yer coming to mine right?" He asked but still somehow looked anxious about it. One of these days you were hoping he'd be able to be completely comfortable around you.

"I don't put out on the first date." You shot back, causing his deep laugh that was slowly becoming your favorite sound in the world erupt from him.

"Hate to break it to y'love but y'put out before the first date." That big toothy grin on his face made you want to slap him.

"Watch it Styles or you'll definitely never sleep with me again." You huffed sitting back into your seat, arms crossing over your chest. He hummed in amusement as he started his car. Obviously not buying your fake threat.

It didn't take long before you were standing in the middle of Harry's ungodly sized penthouse. Really you shouldn't have been surprised but as you looked around you couldn't do anything else but gape with your mouth wide open.

"Better close yer mouth before I fuck it." Harry said as he came up behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around you. You snapped your mouth closed as his lips touched the sensitive spot on your neck that he was becoming overly familiar with over the last few weeks. A shiver went through you and you knew he could tell he was getting to you by the smile forming on his perfect mouth. Sometimes you really hated him.

"Gonna bite it off if you keep it up." You said irritated he had finally started teasing you back more. You had messed up by constantly being a smartass to him. Now you were paying for it.

"I bite back." He gave you a small nip on your neck. You let out a squeak, turning around and pushing him back, causing him to laugh. He took your hands you had on his chest and held them tightly pulling you back into his chest.

"'M sorry. Couldn't help myself." He said through laughter but you pulled away from him. Quickly walking down the hallway without him following you.

"I'm going to call Sarah to let her know that you're an ass." You shook your head as you made your way into what you assumed was his bedroom.

You plopped down on your stomach on his bed that felt like a cloud. Your head resting on your hand as you shot Sarah a text that said you weren't going to be home til tomorrow morning. Which resulted in you getting a text with a string of very suggestive emojis as a reply. You rolled your eyes as you closed your message app and set your alarm for the next morning. The last thing you wanted to do was have Thea worrying about you not being home when she woke up in the morning.

"Could get used to this." Harry said from the doorway to the room. His arms crossed as he leaned against the door frame. He looked so content and happy in this moment that it almost took your breath away.

"Which part?" You asked as, sat up on your knees at the end of the bed, tucking your hair behind your ear, nervous about what he might say. He had a way of making you so comfortable at times and so on edge at others.

His brows furrowed as he thought over your question. Your hands fiddled together in your lap as you nervously chewed on your bottom lip. He went from carefree to guarded so quickly you weren't sure what he was about to say, not sure if you wanted to hear it.

It wasn't a second later and he was walking across the beautiful hardwood floors so gracefully you didn't understand how he could be a real person. His fingers laced through your hair as he pulled your face closer to his. His eyes locked onto your briefly then slowly scanning your face like he was studying you before silk soft lips connecting with yours. You could feel your anxiety dissipate as you held onto his forearms to keep yourself balanced.

Your heart already beating like crazy as you leaned taller on your knees, putting all your emotions you couldn't say yet into the kiss but he pulled away before you could deepen the it yet again and you would have been bitching about it if the words that came out of his mouth didn't almost stop your heart.

"All of it." He whispered softly. Your grip on his arms tightened. Your mind taking you back to the last time you were in a bedroom with him, confessing your feelings. The moment felt so breakable just like the last time. You could hear both of your shallow breathing as he took his time to explain what he meant. His fingers lacing tighter in your hair, gripping like he'd never let you go.

"You. Thea. Being with you two." He sucked in a deep breath. His forehead still resting against yours but his eyes were closed. You could feel his nervousness radiating off him. His whole body seemed to tense up the more honest he was with his feelings. His brows pulled close together like he was debating over his next words so carefully.

"You guys make me happy." He sighed as your hands rubbed his forearms reassuringly. His body instantly relaxing from your soft touch. The quiet wrapped around both of you as took him all in. Your forehead still pressed up against his and you wished he could hear all the thoughts you had running through your mind, too nervous about getting hurt again to say any of it out loud.

His soft brown curls brushed against your forehead as he took in deep calming breaths. His eyes still closed as your hand came up to rest on his cheek. Your thumb grazing against the rough stubble that was growing there. You wanted him to not worry about opening up to you but your heart and brain were fighting a war. You wanted him but you wanted to protect yourself from getting hurt ever again.

The turmoil inside your own mind quieted when he opened his usually bright green eyes. You could see a million emotions floating in them. You could look into those endless beautiful eyes for the rest of your life and be content.

"You make us happy too." You let a soft sigh escape your lips when you pushed them back against his. You relaxed into him. Your mind finally stopping the madness of fighting off your emotions when his arms wrapped around you, pulling you close to him.

Large hands pressed against your back, holding you so close you felt like you were seconds away from being absorbed completely by him. He everywhere around enveloped you. His tongue invading your mouth, his smell flooding your senses, hands rubbing and grabbing every part of you he could get a hold of.

Your arms wrapping around his neck, fingers running through his hair, holding onto the last bit of sanity you had.

"Need you." He breathed out, arms tightening around you. All you could do was nod, your ability to speak leaving you as your desire to be his took over.

He didn't need you words, his hands slowly running under your shirt and pulling it over you and off your body. Your lips only disconnecting for seconds before they were back together, there was no fighting for power this time. Your mind blanking as you ran on pure adrenaline and your growing need for him.

His knees came up on to the edge of the bed forcing you to move backwards. Trying your best to not fall over as his demanding hands were snapping your bra off you. You shrugged the beautiful red lace bra off your shoulders trying your best to throw it off the bed while still kissing him.

"Off." You demanded greedily pulling at the bottom of the shirts you loved see him in that were now in your way.

"Always so demanding." He smiled, taking off his cute sweater vest. His fingers unbuttoning each button on his shirt at an ungodly slow pace. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they took their time. His eyes never leaving the sight of you watching him so carefully. His chest rising from his slow deep breaths when his shirt finally hit the bed.

Your eyes moving over his tattoos on his stomach up to his chest and eventually back to his eyes. They were so blown with lust you almost couldn't see the green in them anymore. Gone was the softness in them, replaced with his need to have you.

You quickly made your way off the bed. Harry's brows furrowing from your sudden change in pace, turning to watch as you slipped your jeans down your legs. His eyes following them all the way down to the floor.

"Gonna sit there and look at me or you gonna lay down?" Your cocky smile across your face from his obvious staring.

He rolled his eyes but didn't say anything as he laid down, curious to see what you were going to do next. His back against the bed, resting on his elbows as he watched you crawl back onto the bed. Sitting yourself so perfectly over him. A leg on either side of his hips.

Your hands resting on his chest as you leaned down to kiss him. Your lips moving in perfect rhythm with each others like you'd been doing this for years not a few weeks. His hands on your back pulling your chest into his, the feel of his bare skin against your fueled the fire already burning in you.

You gave yourself time to enjoy kissing him the way you've been wanting to all night. Your tongue eagerly followed his every move, letting him lead the kiss the way he wanted to. Your legs tightening around his waist when he started shallow thrust of his hips, desperately trying to get any relief he could. You could feel his rock hard bulge against your now drenched underwear and a part of you was proud of yourself for holding out this long. Your mind running with all the things you wanted to do with him.

Your lips parted from his, making your way down his jaw, his neck, his chest, hitting every one of his sweet spots you'd found over the last few weeks along the way. His hands gripped tightly onto the yellow comforter the lower you went. Your hot breath fanning out, soft lips dragging over his skin every time you moved slightly to the next spot you wanted to leave a small kiss. Your thin fingers pulling down his zipper made him let out a breath, hands running through his hair. The corner of your mouth tugging up in a triumphant smile, the effect you had on him filling you with confidence.

You lifted your head up, looking him in his lust filled eyes as you took his pants and boxers down his legs, just enough to free his throbbing erection from it's tight confinement. A smirk on your lips as you caught sight of his chest heaving in deep breaths. Hands in his hair trying desperately to keep a grip on himself as your tongue ran along his hard member from his base all the way to his tip. Giving small kitten licks around his red pulsing tip. His erection twitching in your hand after every slight flick of your tongue. His eyes burning into yours when you finally took him fully into your mouth, slow, deliberate… teasing.

You only made it half way down him when he thrusted up into your mouth. You gagged around him causing a deep moan to come from him.

"Shit, sorry puppy." His hands wrapping in your hair, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail. His hands trying their best to not guide your movement, not that you would have minded if they did.

Your eyes didn't leave his as your hand took the part of him that wouldn't fit fully in your mouth. Harry's head laid back against the pillows, hands tightening to the point you started to get concerned when you hollowed your cheeks, your hand twisting slightly as you ran it up and down him, picking up your speed.

He was hot and heavy in your mouth. A distinct taste that was fully him filled you as you continued to push yourself to your limit. Deciding to remove your hand and try your best to take him all the way in now that you were a little more prepared for it.

His head instantly lifted off the pillow when you pulled your hand off him, giving the hand resting in your hair a slight push, trying to let him know you wanted him to take over. He must have gotten the hint cause a deep guttural groan vibrated through him.

His hand instantly shoved you fully down on him, hips bucking up into your mouth. You gagged only slightly greatly misjudging how much he was about to ruin your throat.

Your watering eyes never left him as he continued to move you how he wanted. His head thrown back as he fucked your throat relentlessly. Your beautiful red lace underwear drenched with your arousal, legs clenched tight together, hoping to get some sort of relief from the aching between your legs.

"Fuck." He pulled you off him so suddenly you were almost scared you had used too much teeth but as your chest heaved in deep breaths of much needed air you saw that same predatory look in his eyes that you saw the last time you were alone with him.

Your legs pressed together, a whimper coming from you. You needed him so badly you weren't even aware of him pulling you in for a kiss until his lips touched yours again. It was all tongues and clashing teeth. Gone was your perfect in sync movements, replaced with a fiery need for each other.

"Harry." You moaned out, arms wrapping tightly around his neck. The ever growing ache between your legs was unbearable. You needed him to do something about it. Your pleading eyes, meeting his again as he laid you down.

"I know baby." He said through the kisses he trailed down your neck. He didn't spend long teasing your weak spots before he settled in between your legs. His eyes wide as he took you all in, your underwear complete soaked through. In any other moment you might have been slightly embarrassed but you needed him so bad you didn't care. Your hands quickly going down and taking your own underwear off. Throwing them against a wall.

"Eager little thing." Harry mused as you put your legs back on the bed. One on either side of his face, bent slightly. Your whole body feeling like it was on fire from the desire burning through your veins. You didn't think seeing him get so lost in you would do this to you but now you needed him.

"Please." You begged, voice hoarse and ragged from the earlier abuse. You tried your best to hold onto the shred of decency you had left but your hips moved closer to his face almost against your will.

You could have cried when his fingers finally ran up your slit. A loud uncontainable moan ripped from your lungs, throat burning from the volume, head thrown back already choking for air.

"So pretty." Harry mumbled more to himself than you. You pulled yourself up to rest on your elbows, fingers desperately digging into the bedding. Your whole body tense from anticipation as he slightly pulled your lower lips apart, his hot breath hitting your sensitive bundle of nerves causing you to whimper in need.

"Gonna keep yer eyes on me puppy?" He asked, mouth so close to where you wanted him you're pretty sure he could have gotten you to agree to just about anything. Your head nodding so fast it made a small smirk come to his lips. He didn't seem to mind your lack of talking tonight, his warm tongue finally, finally, pushing out past his lips. Laying flat against your slit as he licked you in a way you'd never felt before.

You started to regret saying you'd keep your eyes on him as his tongue drew skilled patterns directly on your bundle of nerves. Your eyes momentarily shutting with your moan when he sucked lightly on your engorged clit. Your head getting lost in that fuzzy wonderful headspace but you were ripped out of it by the harsh slap on the inside of your leg. Making you yelp eyes narrowing down to Harry, wondering what you did.

"Eyes. On. Me." He said each word with such a finalized tone of voice you couldn't argue with him if you wanted to. You loved when he got into this mode. His usually sweet demeanor replaced with one with such authority it made your legs try to clench together, but Harry stopped them hands firmly pressed to the insides of both your legs.

"Be a good girl pup and I'll take good care of ya, yeh?" All you could do was nod in agreement. A soft laugh coming from him at your blatant craving from him. You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself if he was going to be like that but all desire to tell him off left your mind the second his mouth was back on you.

You didn't have to hold back on your moans this time. Which you were thankful for since his tongue was driving you crazy. Your arms shaking from how much you were struggling to stay propped up on them, fighting against every fiber of yourself that wanted to close your eyes in pleasure.

A sharp squeak ripped from you when he pushed both your legs to your chest, holding both of them in place with his large hands around the back of your thighs. Fingers digging so harshly into your silk skin you knew there was no way you wouldn't have bruises there tomorrow.

Your eyes widened as he moved to sit up on his knees, mouth still attached to your core. Everytime you ended up underneath him he never ceased to blow your mind with how well he could tell what you needed. His forearm rested across the back of both your thighs as his now free hand went to your drenched folds. His two fingers pushing into you.

He hummed against your clit as you were suddenly so close to your release. His marksman worthy digits hitting your sweet spot almost instantly. You were sure you wouldn't be able to keep your eyes open in a few moments. Your eyelids growing heavy with pleasure as he continued to thrust his fingers hitting exactly where you needed them every time.

A whine coming from you when he pulled away from you. So close to your much needed high that you saw it all crashing down around you.

"Harry." you panted out through shallow breaths. You couldn't believe he left you hanging like that, you needed him so bad you swore you were a second away from actually going crazy.

"Please, I'll be good." You whined out. So damn desperate you even surprised yourself. The smile that came across his face at your words was infuriating.

"Been so good pup but I need to be inside you before I explode on my bed like some teenager." You wanted to laugh but your current situation dripping onto his bed was stopping you from joking around. You needed him to shut up and fuck you.

"Ass up." He demanded letting your legs go so you scurry into the position he wanted you in. Your heart rate picked up the second his hand came to the back of your head and pushed up down into the pillows. His stomach laying across your back as he leaned down to your ear.

"Need ya like this, baby." He whispered into your ear, your body tensing up just at the sheer thought of what he was about to do. A shiver ran down your spine as his hands smoothed over the soft skin of your ass, taking his time. Soaking in the sight of you completely dripping and ready for him.

"Been wantin' ya like this since I saw ya prancing 'round in that fuckin' dress at Mitch's." A sharp slap on your ass made you jolt forward, moaning at the feeling of your tingling skin being soothed by warm hand.

Your core clenched around nothing as you felt him guide the tip of his erection against your bundle of nerves. You weren't sure how much more teasing you could put up with. You whined shifted backwards into him, needing him so badly it was all you could think about. Your mind blank on anything else but your desire for him.

He pushed into your warm slick channel, your walls instantly clamping down on him, pulling him in. Your face pushed deeper into the pillow at the feeling of finally getting what you need. Your moans hung in the air around you two as he slowly pulled out only to slam back into you.

"Fuck." You heard him from behind you a groan coming from deep in his chest as his hands smoothed over each of your ass cheeks slowly spreading you apart to get a better view of himself thrusting deep into you.

Another stinging slap on your ass followed by his hips snapping against yours again harshly had your face almost completely buried by the pillow. Hands wrapped tightly around it, holding on for life as you felt your mind grow fuzzy again. Your eyes closed soaking in the absolute pleasure of being so full of him. You couldn't hold back the moans pouring out of you even if you tried, the pillow muffling half of them.

"Need to hear you, pup." His arm wrapping around your shoulders bringing your back up to his chest. His lips at the crock of your neck while your hands cling to his forearm. Your nails digging into his flesh as he relentlessly pounded into you. You swore you were loosing feeling in your face and your voice was almost gone at this point. Your legs felt like they were going jello, about to collapse any second as your walls clenched around him again. You were so close you could feel the tears starting to well in your eyes.

"Close baby?" He whispered so softly it was a complete contradiction to what he was doing to you. His speed never slowly down. You felt like he was trying to fuck your soul out of your body.

All you could do was nod, head thrown back on his shoulder with a whine, hands still gripped onto his arm that was around you.

Your whole body tensing with the force of the orgasm building in you. You couldn't hold out any longer even if you tried. Your chest heaving in deep breaths you desperately needed. Feeling like you could actually pass out from pleasure when his fingers went to work circles around your clit.

"Harry!" You moaned out as your high hit you. Toes curling, nails dragging down his arm as you felt the strongest orgasm you'd ever had in your life. Your slick running down the both your legs only seemed to fuel his desire for you. His hips rolling against yours in short motions.

Your body slacked in his arms as your high dissipated. Your body would have fallen to the bed if it wasn't for his arm around your shoulders keeping you upright with him. Your face felt as numb as your mind when you slumped in his arms.

Harry moaned out your name as he finally stilled inside of you. The warmth of his release filling you.

He held you close for a few seconds breathing in deep calming breaths before laying you down on the bed, being sure to brush your hair out of your face before he pulled out of you. He rolled over on the bed directly beside, the bed bouncing slightly as he landed on it.

"Holy shit." He sighed out, his arm resting on his forehead, looking as fucked out as you felt. The throbbing between your legs replaced with a delicious soreness. Your whole body felt light still, your mind still buzzing from your release.

"Y'ruined my sheets." He laughed at you hiding your face in embarrassment, whining at the fact he had brought that up. You could feel your face burning, ears turning red. You'd never done that before and as good as it felt you weren't used to it.

"Shut up." You groaned, face nuzzling deeper into the pillow. Your arms clinging onto it when he pulled your body into his. Cuddling up to your back. Both your chest rising and falling in sync together as his hand ran up and down your side, shiver going down your spine at the feeling.

You both were too exhausted to do anything other than lay there. Taking in the feeling of being wrapped up together. You felt your eyes start to drift shut, growing heavy from your exhaustion.

"Y'should be mine." He heard is soft voice speak from behind you, his nose nuzzled in your hair. Your brain still foggy with exhaustion, body still limp.

"Hmm?" You asked, not moving from your spot, too tired to do much of anything.

"Y'should be mine." He said again his lips pressing lightly to your shoulder. Lingering there as a smile broke across your face.

"Already am." You sighed using the rest of your strength to turn around to look at him. His eyes burning into yours as you smiled at him. Your hand resting on his chest, thumb tracing lightly over the tattoos there.

You honestly thought you were so transparent to him. Your heart was already his, he just had to say it. Admit that he wanted this too. You were already there, ready to give up fighting your feelings for him.

"Then 'm yours." 

[qlala]

I’ve had a couple requests to see the unfinished Leonard and Lisa fic I mentioned yesterday, so I’m going to try posting it here! It’s the first ~2k words, so please let me know if the “read more” doesn’t work.

The basic idea involves a meta who can link up two people’s memories, similar to the concept of “the drift” in Pacific Rim. Barry and Leonard get whammied by her during a fight, and they’re both pretty much incapacitated by it, because there’s a lot to deal with there on both sides. There’d be a coldflash endgame if I ever finish it, but that’s not overt in this section. If it’s not clear, italics indicate a memory not Barry’s own. 

Trigger warnings: Please be aware that for obvious reasons, this deals a lot with Leonard and Lisa’s abusive childhood. The abuse doesn’t appear “on screen,” so to speak, but the fallout from it and the strong emotions surrounding it do. There’s also a brief allusion to transactional sex. Please keep yourselves safe and don’t read if you’re in a headspace where those things could be harmful to you. ❤️

By the time Barry stopped screaming, Leonard had filled the team in on what had happened to them. 

Barry came back to himself with heaving, raw breaths. He tried to focus on the marble flooring beneath his cheek, and he twisted off his side to press his forehead to it, cool and grounding. 

He could hear Leonard talking—familiar voice, terse sentences, clipped like he was speaking between gritted teeth—but it took Barry a second to locate him in the room. He was pressed back into the corner of the room opposite from him, kneeling, his arms wrapped tight around his middle. His hands were knotted white-knuckled in the material of the parka, an apparent attempt to stop the shaking that was visible even from twenty feet away. 

He wondered when Leonard had moved, then wondered how much time had passed. The last thing he remembered was trying to push Leonard out of the way as the meta lashed out at them with… whatever it had been, a streak of white light, fragmented like a chain, a leash.

The memory was hard to pin down. It kept appearing to him from two different angles, and there was a headache pressing behind his eyes that grew sharper every time he tried to focus on one or the other. 

“Barry? Barry, can you—?” 

Barry didn’t even think when the hand reached for him and a barrage of memories hit him broadside: other hands, one other hand. He jerked backwards, his powers the last thing from his mind, and whoever it was yanked their hand away as if he’d just bitten them. 

“Stop.” It was odd to hear Leonard’s voice without the drawl, sharp with anger, clear and ringing. 

“He can’t help it.” 

Cisco’s voice—that was even better than the floor. The memories that floated up were Barry’s own: movie nights, STAR Labs, a Lady Gaga song playing on repeat.

“Not him,” Leonard said. When he looked up, his eyes were so blood-stained that it was hard to see the blue of his irises. That explained Barry’s headache, at least. “You. All of you. Stop touching him.”

“He needs help.” 

Iris’s tone was steady, careful; it was the voice she used on stray cats and nervous sources. Barry was glad to find her just off to his right, but he still flinched as soon as she lifted her hand.

In the corner, Leonard made an aborted movement as if to stop her. “Last thing I’d want right now is someone grabbing me.” It was taking him obvious effort to speak; he shut his eyes, and his brow was furrowed in what could’ve been pain, and could’ve been concentration. “Given the circumstances, I suspect that’s… operative. At the moment.” 

There was a silence in which all Barry could hear was the sound of his own breathing. Then Iris knelt a careful foot away and placed her hand on the ground, palm up. 

Barry nodded once—it was all he could manage—and reached out to clasp her wrist.  

“Barry?” 

He nodded again, and her shoulders dropped in relief. 

“Okay. You’re okay. You’re safe. Do you know where you are?”

He risked a glance around, only to wince at the double memories: sitting on his dad’s shoulders as he explained how he’d consulted on the new exhibit about the human body, showed him his name on a sign by the door; Lisa dragging him through the Jewels of the World exhibit, her hand impossibly small in his own, declaring the Hope Diamond hideous with the flippant confidence only a child could have.

Barry’s head throbbed, and when he rubbed his free hand under his nose, it came away streaked with blood. 

In his peripherals, Leonard mirrored the gesture, then wiped his wrist on his coat. 

“The natural history museum,” Barry rasped. “Central.” 

“Why is it affecting him more than you?” Caitlin���s voice, unexpected, behind him. “You’re getting his memories, too, aren’t you?”

Barry groaned as guilt panged in his chest; his whole team had been dragged out because he couldn’t take down one meta. 

Leonard finally looked at him again, then met Caitlin’s gaze with a hard glare. “Karaoke,” he said, surprising her into a blink. “Grease. You’re a terrible singer.” 

She looked offended, but when Leonard pushed himself to his feet, her doctor’s instincts seemed to take over, and she took a step toward him.

He held out a hand to stop her. “Your voice is the third-worst thing Barry’s past has to throw at me. Not all of us have lived such charmed lives.” 

Barry’s lip curled even as his mind latched onto Leonard’s taunt, grateful for the distraction. “My parents were killed in front of me,” he said. “And my father’s doppelganger broke my back on national television.”

Leonard glanced at him, his expression unreadable. “I ranked that last one lower than Snow’s Olivia Newton-John.”

Iris tensed beside him, but it shocked a snort of laughter out of Barry. “I’m—” He let go of Iris’s wrist, used the hand to push himself up to sitting. “I’m fine. Can we go back to the lab?”

He was about to offer to run them there, but a glance toward the glass doors brought a fresh wave of memories, decades of them tied to the museum steps, the restaurant across the street, a stop sign stolen from the intersection before he’d even been born. 

“Best to keep your eyes closed,” Leonard said. 

“Yeah,” Barry agreed. He wouldn’t have gotten down the block. “Cisco, can you—?”

Cisco powered up his Vibe gloves, a ripple already opening up in the space in front of them. “Yeah, man. Come on. Let’s get you home.” 

* * * * * * 

“I said not to call her.”

Leonard sounded on the edge of homicide, and Barry risked opening his eyes to glance over at him. He didn’t need the sensors taped to Leonard’s wrists and temple (he’d steadfastly refused to take off his shirt, had pulled a knife when Caitlin had tried to insist) to guess at his spiked blood pressure, though the monitor next to him confirmed it with a beep of alarm. 

They were in the medical bay at STAR Labs, had been for over six hours. Leonard was sitting cross-legged in the middle of his bed, apparently above anything as vulnerable as lying down (or, apparently, painkillers, which Barry hadn’t even had the option of taking) and Cisco was doing an impressive job of standing his ground in the doorway. 

“She called me, alright, Cold? I couldn’t lie to her, not when she’s got a tracker showing her you’re sitting in my lab—” 

“She lied to you.” 

“It’s in the tip of one of your shoelaces, if it’s in the same place as mine,” Cisco offered, not unkindly.

They were interrupted by the sharp, carrying click of high heels coming down the hallway. 

The monitor next to Leonard’s bed beeped again, and Barry glanced at it. His blood pressure wasn’t the only thing elevated now; his heart rate was spiking, more than anything that could be blamed on anger. He was afraid. Barry had half a second to wonder why, then Leonard bit out, “Close your eyes,” and Lisa shoved past Cisco into the room in a whirlwind of righteous fury. 

Barry’s own memories almost didn’t recognize her. He hadn’t seen her in over a year, and her hair was dramatically shorter than when they’d last met. It was short, boyishly so, and a dark brown he suspected was her natural color. 

But his memories weren’t the only ones living in his head anymore, and his mouth opened without his permission. “Lis,” he said. “I haven’t seen your hair like that since—” 

Nothing, not even that first blast of memories at the museum, could’ve prepared for the strength of the fear that slammed into him.

Lisa, barely ten, eating mac and cheese in front of the television. Lewis stumbling in the front door, reeking of beer. Every muscle tensing. A slurred name from Lewis when he saw Lisa, a name that made Len’s blood turn to ice, that made Lisa smile hopefully and ask, “Mom?” Lewis’s squint, his quiet, “Huh.” And then Lewis dropping on the couch, already halfway to passing out, and saying, “Gonna be a looker just like her.”

Len had pleaded with Lisa for hours that night, one hand on the kitchen scissors, one eye on the living room. The toy store, the candy store, fuck it, the pet store, anything she wanted, he’d buy it, just let him cut her hair, just this once, just til Dad went away again—

Barry remembered his powers just in time. He barely made it to the bathroom before his stomach heaved, and his hands were still shaking by the time he was able to take a full breath without retching again. He pushed up from the cracked floor—his knees had hit the ground hard enough to shatter the tile—and flushed the toilet, then limped out to the sink.

His reflection in the mirror was a mess; on top of everything else, his nose was bleeding again, too. He splashed cold water on his face, then changed his mind and stuck his whole head under the tap. He tried to focus on the sound of the water rushing over his ears; he needed a distraction, any distraction, to keep his mind from getting dragged back into the memory. The terror, the rage, the thousand better ways he could use those kitchen scissors to solve their problem instead of cutting off Lisa’s fucking baby curls— 

Someone shut off the water, and Barry pulled back from the sink with a wet gasp. He pushed the soaking hair out of his eyes, flinched when it dripped onto his shoulders. 

Getting too long, he thought, with a morbid hiccup of laughter. Then he threw up again. 

When he recovered, Leonard was leaning against the sink next to him, holding out a paper towel.

“She doesn’t remember that,” he said, not looking at him. It was a warning, not a statement, and Barry nodded weakly. 

“Our dad was back in prison by the end of the week.”

Because you planted a gun on him, Barry didn’t say. He remembered the weight of it in his hand, two rounds in the wall next to the gas station attendant’s head; had to leave something for ballistics. Wiping his prints off on his t-shirt, curling Lewis’s hand around the grip, the trigger, dead to the world; another shot into their floor to get the gunpowder on his hand and the neighbors on the phone with the cops. 

Grabbing Lisa out of her bed, Winnie the Pooh blanket wrapped tight around her shoulders, thirty degrees outside. She was asleep on his chest by the time he got her to Mick’s. He dropped her off and went back to join the onlookers to make sure his dad got arrested, felt a vicious, bone-deep pleasure at seeing him dragged out of the hands in cuffs. He mentally added an extra year to their fortunes when the drunk old man elbowed a cop in the face, and black blood joined the blue and red lights in staining the front lawn. 

Whatever else Leonard had been saying, Barry had missed it. The few fragments he heard—six to eight year sentence, legal guardianship—jarred another memory loose: a pro bono attorney who let his hand rest a little too long on Len’s arm; Len, broke, desperate, not shaking it off. 

The feeling the memories carried was overwhelming, threatened to bring Barry to his knees. He was too frazzled to do the math, but Leonard couldn’t have been much older than he was now. Barry had no idea how he could’ve managed it, the absolute certainty that he would’ve killed for the child in his arms, the knowledge that one day, he probably would. 

When Barry looked at Leonard, he found him gazing steadily back at him, and the full weight of his focus was so unexpected that Barry almost flinched again. He took the paper towel instead.

“When Lisa said you raised her. I didn’t realize…” He had no idea how to put it into words; maybe it was something that only someone who’d been a parent could really understand. 

“My sister’s prone to exaggeration.”

His tone was flat, clipped, and Barry let the conversation lapse. He ran the sink again, then risked another glance in Leonard’s direction. He was still watching him. 

“What did you give her?” he asked. “For her to let you cut her hair.”

Leonard was quiet for so long that Barry thought he wasn’t going to answer him. Then, finally, he lifted one shoulder in an unconvincing shrug. “Took her out of school for a week.” He crossed his arms and looked away again. “Told ‘em she had chicken pox. Brought her to work with me. Boss let her sit in the corner booth and color.”

It was enough; Barry remembered it. The bar—closed now—with its sticky floor, the regulars still passed out on the bar from the night before; he’d serve them coffee and peanuts and get to work cleaning, have the bar restocked with sliced lemons before the bartenders arrived and call the repair guy if the ice machine was broken again. The regulars put endless Shirley temples on their tabs for Lisa, syrupy sweet sodas for a buck apiece that stained her teeth red, until Len cut her off and they ordered nachos for her instead, pretzels with beer cheese, doing a better job of feeding her than Len did most nights. 

There were tears stinging Barry’s eyes; Leonard ignored them other than handing him another paper towel, this one accompanied by an eye roll.  

[carnistirs]

cafuné

↳ @taangweek 2020 Day 2: Modern AU 

Summary: Aang just really likes braiding Toph’s hair. 

Read on ao3 or under the cut

cafuné {Portuguese} the act of running your fingers through the hair of someone you love

‘

“Fuck, are you serious,” he hears Toph mumble in frustration as her fingers snag in her hair.

Aang clears his throat. “I could brush it for you?”

He honestly doesn’t know what possesses him to blurt that out in the open, but it’s too late to take it back now. He waits on bated breath, watches her continue to struggle with the tangles in her hair. She gives up, uttering an agitated go for it, Twinkletoes, and that’s really all the permission he needs before he’s wandering in Sokka’s bathroom, looking for a brush.

The knots look like they’re a pain to deal with, given the unhappy expression on Toph’s face, so he promises to be gentle. Ridiculously enough, he doesn’t know where to start, so he sweeps most of her long hair away from her front, fingers touching the ends of her hair and – oh.  

Oh, wow.

Her hair’s really, really soft.

“Did you fall asleep back there?” she asks archly.

“Sorry,” Aang mumbles, the heat rising on his cheeks – stop, she can’t even see you – while he carefully runs the bristles of the brush over her dark tangles.

He gets lost in the repetition of it, quietly marvelling over how smooth and shiny her tresses are after he brushes them over and over. Toph’s hair drapes like satin over his palms and even when there are no knots left to run over, he keeps brushing.

“I think the tangles are gone,” Toph says later, a hint of bemusement in her voice.

Aang sets the brush aside, but doesn’t stop touching her hair; he gathers a chunk of it at the top before separating it into three sections, slowly crossing the strands over to the center. He gathers in more pieces of her hair every time he crosses over a section, and even though he’s never done this on anyone else before, he’s seen his mother do this a hundred times when he was a kid.

Ten minutes later, a French braid falls down Toph’s back and there isn’t a single strand out of place.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could braid,” she murmurs in surprise, her fingers reaching behind to touch the plait curiously. “Thanks, man.”

Toph’s smiling at him, easy and content, and he barks out a laugh to disguise the fact that he’s blushing again.

“It’s a really nice braid,” Katara chimes in with a knowing grin, a tease dangling at the tip of her tongue. “Can you braid my hair too?”

She plops down without giving him the chance to answer – not that he would decline her anyhow. Katara’s hair flows down in pretty waves, smelling like strawberries, but Aang can’t help the frown tugging at the corners of his lips when he touches it.  

Her hair just isn’t the same as Toph’s.

‘

They’re in line for a movie that doesn’t premiere for another two hours (“We’re getting good seats this time. I’m not risking another goddamn sore neck by sitting in the front row again,” Zuko hisses—) and it’s astonishing how they still aren’t the first people in line.

“Your buns are getting loose,” Aang says idly, tugging at one of them.

Toph swats his hands away. “Well, don’t make it worse, idiot.”

“I could fix them.”

A statement, not a question – with the amount of times Aang’s volunteered to brush and braid her hair this past month, it shouldn’t exactly be news to her at this point.

He knows Toph’s going to say yes, like she’s done every other time he’s asked, so he eagerly starts unravelling her buns without waiting for her expressed permission. Aang had watched a five-minute hair tutorial a couple of days ago and he couldnot, for the life of him, stop picturing her in the exact hairstyle he’d seen.

“I’m gonna need you to bend over for a little while, T.”

“What? No.”

Aang revels in the silkiness of her hair, ignoring her refusal. “It’s an upside down Dutch braid that leads into space buns.” That’s what the video had been callled anyway. “C’mon, it won’t take that long. Just sit on that bench if you want. It’ll be worth it, I promise.”

She sighs, loud and aggravated, but Aang’s already pushing her towards the bench, his touch gentle against the slightness of her body.

“What are you doing?” Suki chirps, appearing with a bowl of popcorn that she’ll probably finish before the movie even starts.

“Suffering,” Toph grumps with her elbows rested on her knees.

“I saw this video the other day and I wanted to see if I could replicate it,” Aang tries – fails – to say casually.

But as soon as he starts braiding, he forgets that Suki’s even there because the glossiness of Toph’s dark hair honestly takes him to a higher plane of existence. Truly, it does. He’s never felt anything like it – Appa’s fur isn’t even as soft as this - and the feeling of being able to manipulate her hair to his will doesn’t help things either.

“Whoa,” Suki murmurs once he’s pinning the second bun to the top of Toph’s head. “That’s so pretty! Aang, do you just go around braiding any girl’s hair?”

“No, he’s only willing to braid Toph’s,” Katara says smugly off to the side.

Aang narrows his eyes. “No one asked you.”

He slides the last bobby pin into her hair and admires his own handiwork, unable to suppress a grin because it does look better. At the risk of getting flat out punched by Toph however, Aang keeps this opinion to himself.

“You like it?” he asks, quiet, meant for her ears only.

Toph’s fingers brush across the crown of her head. “You braided the buns too? Really. You just had to outdo me.” But her lips are curved in a way that softens her face completely and she’s just—

So, so beautiful.

‘

“You never ask me first,” Aang hums happily, fingers weaving her hair together. “What’s the special occasion?”  

“Nothing that special. Just going on a date.”

What the fuck.

Aang’s hands freeze in her tresses as he slowly tries to comprehend her statement. His heart leaps to his throat and it threatens to stay there then, suffocating him.

His chest constricts together uncomfortably, his mouth pressing into a thin line, and there’s an ugly, irrational part of him that wants to ruin her hair now. He wants to leave Toph looking like a mess, hoping that her date is shallow enough to stand up a blind girl just because she has a bird’s nest on her head.  

He immediately feels awful for thinking such a thought, but there’s something clawing at the bottom of his stomach, green-eyed and ravenous.

“Who’s—” Aang can’t even hear his voice through the shrill noise ringing through his ears. “Who’s the lucky guy?”

“You know Kanto? The guy that sits in the front row of our English Comp class?”

He vaguely remembers this Kanto guy – vaguely- which means there’s really nothing that special about him in the first place.

Toph perks up a half hour later. “Oh, are you done? What’s this one called?”

“A waterfall braid.”

It’s twisted halfway up, leaving the rest of her hair to fall down in soft waves he created with the use of Katara’s curling wand. Fucking monkeyfeathers, he’d given her waves. Kanto’s not going to be able to keep his hands off her. What the fuck did he just do—

Her phone beeps then, breaking his train of thought. “Shit, I’m late,” Toph says, dragging a finger around one of her waves just to feel the gentle curl of it. “Thanks, Twinkletoes! I owe you one.”  

And then she’s grabbing her cane and running out the door, leaving Aang to blink after her with a pathetic kind of despondence. He exhales sharply, hands white-knuckled as they clench the edge of the bathroom counter.

‘

He’s halfway through a large tub of ice cream when she comes barging back into his apartment two hours later.

Toph rips the spoon out of his mouth and snatches the ice cream from his hands before dumping herself on the sofa next to him. She takes a spoonful, immediately blanching when the taste seeps into her tongue.

“Why’s this ice cream so nutty?”

“It’s dairy-free,” Aang replies, taking the tub before she can throw it halfway across the room. “So, um, was your date...good?”

“No,” comes a snort. “Asshole kept talking about himself, so I just paid the bill and walked out.”

Aang smiles in outward delight because that’s such a Toph thing to do. He should feel bad that her date didn’t work out, like any other good friend would, but he really, really doesn’t.

“Sorry it didn’t work out.”

“Nah,” she waves an airy hand. “I just feel kind of bad because you spent all that time on my hair. It feels like a waste.”  

A nervous thrumming beneath his skin. “It doesn’t have to be.”

“The date’s over.” Toph turns her head and makes a point of blinking milky green eyes at him, gently knocking her knuckles against the side of his head. “You going all airhead on me again?”

“No,” he laughs, inwardly cringing, because it sounds so high-pitched in the space between them. “Your night shouldn’t end on a bad note. Let me take you somewhere fun. It’ll be a better date.”  

And—

Terrible, horrendous silence.

“Date,” Toph repeats after too long of a while, her voice contemplative and strained with something else. “As friends?”

“Yeah, why not? Friends go on dates all the time.” Aang breathes in, lets it whistle out silently through his teeth, and he doesn’t know why he even bothers keeping quiet when he knows she can probably hear him. She can probably hear the silly, birdlike flutter of his heart as well, just beating around recklessly in his chest. “If you’re still not having a good time, just forget it it ever happened. Or punch me if you want.”

“What happens if I have a good time?”

“Then you let me take you out on another date and we keep going from there.”

Toph tips her head back towards the flashing TV and his eyes linger on the arch of her cheekbone, on the delicate cut of her jaw. “Fine,” she ends up saying, smirking through the faint tinge of pink settled on her face. “Just so you know, I’m looking forward to punching you.”

So he takes Toph to a roller skating rink that’s still open this late. Toph trades her cane for his arm as they skate slow circles around the rink, and Aang tries not to show how pleased he is just to have her hold onto him, to feel her small fingers in the crook of his elbow. She laughs with him and at him, loud and blithe, her long hair floating behind her.

Aang trips once because he stares at her too long, even taking her down with him as he grasps desperately at her hands, but she never gets mad at him.

(She still punches his arm though, despite having a good time. He’s okay with it.)

‘

“For someone who’s glaringly bald, you’re a huge hair snob.”

Aang opens his mouth to argue with her because no, he’s never been a huge snob of anything in his life, but then he takes stock of their current situation. They’re pulled off to the side, ten minutes away from the restaurant, with his hands in her hair because Toph had come to him with a look – he doesn’t even know what to call it – that had mismatched braids stretched over her forehead like they’re supposed to be her bangs.

“Who did this to you,” Aang says instead.

Toph grins widely, clearly amused at him. “Suki.”

Scoffs. “I love Suki, but that girl only has, like, three go-to hairstyles at best. You would have been better off with Katara. Or Sokka at least.”

“Damn, shots fired. Suki’s so kicking your ass when she hears this.”

“No one likes snitches, you know,” Aang says, tugging at her hair in a way that makes Toph stick her tongue out at him.

It’s very cute – the flash of a pink tongue and her nose scrunching up at him. In the end, he fixes it with a fishtail braid that has a tighly bound start and a body that curves into a shapely weave of thicker strands. It looks like a mermaid’s figure, actually, and he’s very proud of it.

Okay, wow, he really is a hair snob—

Aang doesn’t get to finish the rest of that thought because something soft is touching the corner of his mouth. It’s a teasing gesture, entirely light against his bottom lip, and he still feels incredibly breathless by the time Toph’s pulling her head back.

“I missed, didn’t I?” Toph laughs to herself, turning her face away.

He follows her helplessly though, leaning over the emergency brake to cup her face in his sun-kissed palms. He dips his head, his mouth burning hot as he brushes it against hers once, twice, three times, tasting sweet cheeries all the while. Aang feels her smile faintly against his lips and he loves it, loves feeling it grace her face, loves tracing the bend of it with his own mouth.

Toph makes a quiet noise when he scrapes his teeth along the plumb of her mouth and he thinks he’ll go mad at that sound. He presses harder against her, feels her lips part under the sweep of his tongue—

“Oh—” Aang jerks back when he realizes he’s completely pressing her into the corner of the passenger seat, when he realizes how small she is under his awkward set of long limbs. “Sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” is her eloquent reply as straightens her sunglasses. “Did you hear me complaining?”

“It was okay then?” he asks, flustered.

“Yes. You’re a phenomenal kisser. Totally rocked my world,” Toph retorts dryly, making him beet-red at this point, but she leans in to kiss him again, not even missing his mouth this time. “This better be an amazing vegan restaurant you’re taking me to.”

Aang beams, pink-cheeked. “It is! You’ll love the chipotle tacos. It doesn’t even taste like tofu.”

Once he pulls back onto the road, his fingers twitch between their armrests, itching to hold her hand. He hadn’t been that transparent, he thinks, but then Toph lets out a mild sigh as she slots her fingers through the holes of his own, stilling his restlessness.

‘

It’s Suki’s turn for movie night – which Aang always dreads – because she always, undoubtedly, picks the scariest ones to watch. Suki is a tyrant who laughs in the face of danger (“I pick them because I know you hate them,” she cackles, “and because I like hearing Sokka and Zuko scream like little girls.”) and consistently feeds off of their discomfort.

He spends most of the time ignoring the disturbing noises coming from the TV and focuses on spinning Toph’s tresses into an intricate flower braid he’d seen on Instagram.

“You’re really not watching?” Toph whispers, body leaning against his knees as she sprawls on the floor.

“I want to sleep through the night,” he explains pointedly. “Why does it have to be horror? What’s wrong with rom-coms?”

“Everything.”

“They’re not that bad.”

“I honestly can’t believe you meant every word of that,” Toph throws back, feigning disgust.

Aang frames her face with his hands, tipping it back so that he’s treated to an upside down view. He presses a happy kiss to her mouth, flicking his tongue playfully over her teeth while Sokka squawks out no oogies! from across the room.

His girlfriend’s hair looks like the epitome of spring when he’s done with it, what with her strands braided into three rosettes at the back of her head. He watches Toph slowly touch the formed petals of the braided updo and, unable to help himself, cranes his neck a bit to kiss her fingers affectionately.  

‘

“No,” he pleads in a murmur when her fingers reach behind to undo her hair. “Leave it.”

Toph’s brow lifts, but there’s a knowing grin on her face. “Why?”

She’s sitting right on Aang’s stomach in nothing but her undergarments, hovering over him like some otherworldly creature. The crown braid he’s intertwined in her hair is still perfectly intact and she simply looks untouchable, like she can step on him and he’d very much welcome it.

“You look like a queen,” he breathes out in a rasp, swallowing tightly.

His hands slide up Toph’s thighs to rest on the creamy skin of her hips, fingers curling to hold on, to leave light impressions behind. As much as he loves loosening her hair for her at the end of the day, feeling ringlets and waves as he brushes them out with his fingers, he just wants her to keep the braid on longer just this once.

Aang takes the hand that’s pressing against his shoulder, slanting his mouth over her wrist. “You can tell me what to do. If you want.”

“Uh, I already do? On a daily basis.”

He flushes. “I meant here. In bed. Only if you want, T.”

Toph’s lips melt into a smirk and he immediately feels his blood rush so far down south at that expression. “Is it the hair? It’s gotta be,” she hums, bending over to grip his chin in her palm. He exhales in a tremor when she tugs his bottom lip into her mouth. “Alright, Twinkletoes, hands above your head and don’t touch me until I tell you to, got it?”

“Yes, ma’am,” comes out of Aang as easy as breathing while he crosses his wrists above his head, his heart racing.

‘

When one of Aang’s professors shortens the deadline to his twenty-page paper out of nowhere – leaving him a week to finish the assignment when he initally had three weeks left – he buries his face in his hands and screams.

Fifteen seconds later: “Aang?”

Toph appears at the doorway with a disgruntled Appa at her heels; disgruntled, because she’s no longer paying attention to the large St. Bernard licking at her ankle.

And he doesn’t care how particularly needy he looks when he holds an arm out to her, wanting her, but he does it without hesitation. Her fingertips barely have the chance to graze his before he’s yanking her onto his lap, tucking his face into her neck. He hears Appa whining before he joins them too, plopping down by Aang’s chair with a grunt.

She smells so fresh, like apples and honey, and he wants to kiss her skin all over until the taste is in his mouth.

“You okay?”

“My philosophy professor,” he groans, muffled against her skin, “is so horrible. This is the third time he’s done this.”

“He changed the due date to your paper again?” He nods, miserable. “Want me to kick his ass? Just give me some badass viking braids and I’ll fucking do it.”

Smiles. “You can’t assault the faculty.”

“Says who.”

Aang sprinkles soft kisses along her jaw, his fingers already relieving her hair from its messy topknot. The viking braids he has in mind will probably take an hour to do, judging by the sheer complexity of it, but the work will clear his mind from the stress he doesn’t want. Toph sits straighter on his lap, used to the motions by now, and it makes him grin wider.

He rubs his fingers against her scalp. “Thank you.”  

Already, it feels like his chest is less tight. Like he can breathe easier.

“Yeah, yeah,” she replies, closing her eyes in placid content. “Badass viking braids, and then I kill this professor of yours.”

‘

“You sure you want to give hair clippers to a blind girl? What if I accidentally turn this into a bloodbath?”

“I think the more pressing concern is why you’re smiling at the thought of it.”

“That’s just my face. Way to make me feel self-conscious about it.”

“You’ve never been self-conscious about anything in your life.” Softer, quieter: “And you never need to be. At least around me.”

“Ugh, it’s too early for you to be this sappy.” Clicks on the clippers. “Okay, let’s do this. I actually miss touching your bald head.”

“Maybe let me do it with you first a few times? And once you get the feel for it, I’ll hand it off to you.”

“This is fucking crazy.”

“You trust me?”

Mocks back in a voice that’s supposed to sound like him: “I think the more pressing concern is if you trust me.”

He laughs, bright and easy. “Yeah, I trust you.”