#the last time i tried to draw was a week ago and it hurt REALLY BAD

[isa-ah]

OH NO

[rosewaterandivy]

tightrope across the table

Summary: Abandoned at the bar and left to your own devices, what's the worst that could happen?

Pairing: e.m. x fem! reader

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: NSFW 18+, drinking, cursing, & the perils of dating in the 21st century

A/N: For my beloved Luna, @abibliophobiaa - I love you and I hope this brings a smile to your beautiful face! Reblogs, likes & feedback are appreciated - reposting is not. Enjoy! 💜

What had begun as a promising New Year's Eve out with your best girl was quickly devolving. Nursing your now lukewarm beer, you watched as your friend laughed with the latest acquisition to her horde. She really was the worst kind of fag hag. Sipping the last dregs of beer from the glass, you tap through your phone and open the app that’s been taunting you all evening.

It’s not that you enjoyed being on the apps, because who in their right mind would? It was, unfortunately, a necessity now because meeting someone at a bookstore or your local coffee joint just didn’t happen anymore, not with everyone’s nose buried in their phone.

Much like yours was now.

The messages were the exact same as the last time you’d checked— nothing new. You sighed and tried to push back the swell of disappointment. This guy you’d been chatting with seemed decent but not eager to continue the line of conversation. You forced yourself to close out of the app, but before you could, a notification popped up: ‘New Message.’

Looking around to see where your friend had gotten to, you let out a sigh of relief finding her at the bar ordering another round. She sends you a wink and mouths something unintelligible. You shrug back with a smile and glace back down to your phone.

Not to be *that guy* but you wouldn’t happen to be at the bar right now, would you?

Heart kicking up and pulse racing, you calmly scan the immediate area trying not to draw attention to yourself. Finding nothing of concern, you prop your elbow on the table and hold the phone aloft in an attempt to stay alert to your surroundings.

Meant that in a totally not creepy way, fyi!

Despite yourself, you were smiling. You’d had a few conversations with this guy before and always found yourself grinning and laughing in equal measure. It was you who’d initially asked him to a movie a week or so ago, deeming the chemistry enough to warrant an in-person meeting. But he’d regretfully had to decline because of work or some other bullshit excuse, you couldn’t recall.

Things had understandably cooled off since then.

It wasn’t as if he’d stood you up or anything, he’d given ample notice, but it hurt all the same. And there was no shortage of hurt in your life at present.

If it wasn’t an engagement or bachelorette party, it was a wedding or christening. All your friends had apparently gotten the memo and paired up accordingly, while your invite to the Grown-Ups party was apparently lost in the mail. 

Why is it that they were all married or already parents and you couldn’t even get a second date? Was something wrong with you? How had you become the designated single friend?

You were happy for your friends, of course you were, it’s exciting moving through the high points of life! But you could still be overjoyed for them and throw a pity party for yourself, the two weren’t mutually exclusive. And sure, people tried to get you out of the house with trivia nights and dinner dates with the girls but it inevitably wound up with them talking about their spouses or babies, cooing over pictures as phones were passed around.

And sure, they celebrated your milestones too. But was a graduate degree going to keep you warm at night? Was a promotion going to cuddle with you on the couch as you fell asleep to Gilmore Girls for the millionth time?

But things were fine, things were good even, if you could just forget the apps and failed first dates. Besides, you had your Emily Henry books and pints of Ben & Jerry’s— things could be worse.

Okay, so I def creeped you out. Just gonna go back to my cave, pls forget this ever happened.

He then sends a gif of Harry from Harry and the Hendersons sadly sulking off. Again, you find yourself smiling.

Mayybeeee a little creeped. You type back, Just caught me off guard is all.

There’s a minute or two before he responds.

You sure? I can totally fuck off, just say the word.

Crossing your feet beneath your chair, you weigh your options. It was you who asked him out after all, so clearly some part of you was interested. And he’s still talking to you now, even while he’s apparently out at a bar.

Potentially the same bar you’re at now…

Okay, fuck it.

After sending a quick text to your friend explaining the situation and asking her to standby, you toss your hair behind your shoulder and take another look around. 

The bar is pretty packed, the weather is decent so the picnic tables outside are quickly filling up too. It’s loud but not deafening and from your current location, you’re within sight of the door for a getaway if needed.

You hoped you wouldn’t need it.

Sparkly boots.

And with that, you lock your phone and set it to the side. You figure, if this guy is worth his salt he’ll figure it out and find you. If not, oh well, at least you tried. 

The waiting is torturous. Minutes trickle by and you’re about to pack it in for the night when there’s the jangle of a chain against the metal chair and a man swathed in black denim and leather all but pours himself into it. 

“Fucking christ, d’you know how many people are wearing boots tonight?”

For a moment there, you’re speechless— eyes wide and pretty lips opening to say:

“Okay, but how many were wearing sparkly boots.”

His lips, pink and full, pull into a winning smile. 

“Just you sugar, but I think you already knew that.” He leans back in the chair, fingers locked behind his head as he stretches back. 

His shirt rides up, exposing a sliver of skin at his hip. You try not to lick your lips.

“I’m Eddie, by the way,” He says offering you his hand to shake, fingers bejeweled with silver rings.

He’s warm to the touch as you palm slots against his. His lips part to in a soft gasp as your thumb grazes a knuckle and shake his hand, introducing yourself. His brown eyes flit from your hand to your face and back again, as if he can hardly believe you’re real.

Reluctantly, you pull your hand from his grasp. 

His fingers trail after yours, drumming along the tabletop. Your hand rests mere inches from his, close enough to reach out and touch. 

You cock your head to the side assessing him. Eddie’s not all that different from his pictures on the app— scruffy in that attractive masculine way. Long hair pulled back at the nape of his neck, a few errant curls falling to frame his face. 

A vibration to your left breaks the moment.

You mutter an apology and check to your messages:

How we feelin?

This from your friend by the bar who's standing steadfast with her retinue, keys swinging from her fingers if you need her.

Another swoosh sound signalling a response. You glance down once more, this time it’s a photo of you and Eddie taken just after his arrival. You’re looking down, lips rolled between your teeth even though it’s clear as day you’d rather be smiling and he’s looking at you like… Well, like you hung the moon.

“So, uh,” He ducks his head to cough and clear his throat. “Have I passed the test?”

“What’s that?”

“Y’know, the test verifying that I’m not gonna abscond with you to an undisclosed location or whatever.”

“How did you—”

“Your friend’s not very subtle.” He nods in her direction and follows it up with a wave.

“Well, Edward, if you must know—”

“It’s Eddie.”

“Shut up, you know it all!”

His laugh and your retort takes him by surprise, it’s loud and probably the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“As I was saying, that all depends.”

Eddie leans across the table, all loose limbs and big doe eyes. 

“Depends on what, sugar?”

You give a subtle nod to your friend at the bar who flags down the bartender and places an order.

“If you’ll let me buy you a drink.”

He smiles and the rest of the world could drop dead for all you care. For a night that was beginning to look a bit disastrous, with the arrival of Eddie it was starting to have some possibilities.

[show-your-fangs]

I hate seeing sad Hotch but what about Hotch being sad and feeling he’s inadequate but reader does a BIG/GRAND gesture and hotch is floored and becomes like cute puppy hotch and is all like 🥺

this was such a phenomenal request, i just had to add a sprinkle of angst and hurt/comfort bc i am a whore. hope you like it!

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x f!Reader

Words: 1.3k

CW: sad, very very sad, angst, sad boy aaron

Tags/warnings: established relationship, lover boy Hotch, reader works at the BAU but isn't a profiler (just in case you haven't read Moments), self-deprecating thoughts, Aaron thinking he's not good enough for Reader, fear of abandonment, Aaron crying, Reader comforts Aaron, super cute ending.

a/n: I imagine this is Moments AU Aaron and Reader after their relationship comes to light and they’re just dating and working together like adults after almost a year of secrecy, so it’s “new” in the sense that they’ve been public for only a few months. 

Disclaimer: YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO REPOST MY WRITING ANYWHERE ELSE WITHOUT MY CONSENT. REBLOGS ARE ENCOURAGED THOUGH. YOU MAY NOT FEED MY WORK TO ANY AI DATABASES OF ANY KIND OR TO USE MY WORKS TO TRAIN AI. FUCK AI.

You hadn’t spoken to him all day, avoided him at all cost, not once stole a single glance at his office, at him. He didn’t think it was strange at first, you were both rushing to finish a mountain of paperwork that had just come in. 

He even ignored the fact that you hadn’t sought him out to have lunch together, claiming you were going out to run an errand. But then you left work early, so early in fact that the sun was still out. That’s when he began to panic. 

He knew he’d been a little distant recently. He’d had to miss your weekly date night twice, the second time having been the rescheduled date that he was convinced he’d be able to make. But no matter, he’d been called into a meeting just as the two of you were leaving the office. 

You’d been understandably upset. When he returned home to his apartment where you’d been waiting for him for the past few hours, you immediately got into a very heated argument, one that as much as he knew was coming, was still incredibly painful. 

But that had been a couple of weeks ago, you’d worked through it, talked it out, were done fighting about that. Or at least he thought so. 

He knew he was lucky to be with you, unbelievably lucky in fact, and he tried to often show you just how much he appreciated you sticking around after everything he’d been through, after everything you’d been through together. 

And yet he couldn’t help but feel like you would be so much better without him, that if he wasn’t holding you back you could be doing so much better. Your career had stalled because of your relationship with him, you were stuck in an endless cycle of having to comfort him, reassure him that everything was going to be alright when he should be the one doing this for you.

He’d caught you laughing, unrestricted, completely set ablaze by emotion a few days ago, and what had struck him hardest about such a normal display of happiness was that he couldn’t remember when he’d made you laugh like that last. 

You deserved the world, deserved someone who would show up for you, who would sacrifice everything for you, and as much as he wanted to be that person, he was also terrified of what he would have to do in order to become it. 

But he really wanted to, truly wanted to try, to make this work, to prove to you that he could do it, that he could be the man you needed him to be. 

He’d left the office the earliest he’d had in a while, making an effort to leave the paperwork he hadn’t been able to get through on his desk. He could get to it tomorrow morning. Tonight he would show up for you, to his apartment where he knew you’d be waiting after you’d unofficially moved in a week earlier.

He had plans to surprise you with dinner from your favorite restaurant, draw you a nice bath, and practically spend the rest of the evening on his knees, worshiping you like a goddess until you simply couldn’t take it anymore. 

He was practically buzzing all the way up to his apartment, excitement washing over him like a drug, euphoric and calming. He’d opened the door quietly, not wanting to alert you of his presence quite yet. 

But when he finally took in the room, fully dissected what he was seeing, the bag of take out, his keys, and his work bag fell from his hands, loudly banging against the wooden floor. 

You practically bolted out of the room, terrified, like a deer caught in headlights. You only calmed down when you noticed it was him, the hand that held a hair brush like a weapon lowering as a realization flashed over your features. 

He’d caught you in the act, caught you in the middle of…packing your bags and leaving him. 

No, this couldn’t be happening to him, not again, not like this, not you. 

“Honey,” he managed, his voice unbelievably small, on the verge of breaking apart. “What– we can talk about this, please, don’t– please don’t leave me.”

Your brows scrunched in confusion, slowly straightening, readying yourself for what you believed would be another fight. That’s when your eyes darted towards the spilled containers on the floor, his keys and bag to the other side of him, discarded. 

“I know I messed up, I know I shouldn’t have gone to that meeting, I should have told Strauss to wait until the morning,” his voice was cracking, pathetically, and he wanted nothing more than to have this conversation in the most composed way possible. 

But he had not prepared himself to find you like this, to find you in the same way he’d found Hayley all those years ago. Only then it had been his things, and tonight they were yours, and that somehow stung him even harder because last time it had been her kicking him out of her life, and tonight it was you removing yourself from his. 

You still didn’t move, your confusion slowly starting to turn to concern as he dropped to his knees in front of you, quite literally getting on his knees to beg you to stay. 

“I don’t want you to leave me, honey,” he pleaded. “Please stay, I promise I’ll do better, I’ll do whatever you want me to just please don't leave me.”

His hands wrapped around your legs then, face pressed against your stomach as he couldn’t stop the tears from pouring any longer. His entire body shaked, trembled, quacked against your own, his arms keeping you in place, stopping you from moving anywhere, even if you wanted to. 

“Baby,” you whispered and he only tightened his grip. So you stood there, let him get it all out as you gently ran your fingers over his scalp, shushing him gently as he sobbed. 

A few long minutes later, the sobs subsided into light tears and he let you unwrap his arms from you. You dropped down to your knees in an instant, cupping his face in your warm hands and pulling his gaze up to meet yours. 

“I’m sorry, baby,” you told him, wiping the wetness off his face with your thumbs. “I didn’t know this was bothering you so much, I thought we were done fighting about that.”

He let out a shaky breath, taking in the words you’d just said, allowing them to reassure his rapidly beating heart. 

“You’re not leaving?” 

“No, baby,” you smiled softly. “I wanted to surprise you,” you turned your body to the hallway leading towards his room, his own bags packed by the door. “I got Rossi to approve some time off for both of us – an entire week of sipping margaritas by the beach at one of Morgan’s friend’s resorts.”

His arms wrapped tightly around your waist then, pulling you further into him. “When did you– how did you? Why–”

“You’re right, that fight was awful, and I realized we both just needed some time alone together. To decompress and reconnect, just the two of us. What do you think?”

“I think that I don’t deserve you,” he confessed, the smallest hint of a joke desperately trying to hide the truth behind his words. 

“Oh, but you do, Aaron,” you kissed his nose. “You deserve this and so much more, I just need you to believe it. For me. Please?”

He nodded, his nose gently rubbing against yours before he leaned forward to press his lips against yours. They were a little salty from his tears and you took extra care to lap them all up, to clean his mouth of any reminder of what had just happened, a clean slate for the two of you. 

“I love you,” you spoke against his lips. 

“I love you too, honey,” he replied, placing another kiss over your lips before continuing. “So much it’s physically painful.”

You giggled then, light, airy, playful and carefree, and he couldn’t help but smile. Now this laugh he’d remember forever. 

this was...wow. holy shit. i hated putting baby through that but i think he needed to hear that.

my requests are open for pretty boy hotch, be that moments, dbf!we shouldn't (and yet we do), rough hotch, sugar daddy!hotch, or whatever your heart desires.

tags: @canuck-eh, @ssamorganhotchner

[caxde]

Any Steve hurt/comfort

I hope you like it anon! thanks for the request! x

-

Steve harrington x roomate!reader hurt/comfort ~1.5k anxeity attack tw!

It shouldn’t have happened, not really. 

You were in your room, laying on your bed. There was nothing wrong. Everything was fine. 

Maybe that was the problem. 

Everything is fine, and nothing is great. Or good. Just fine. Suddenly the ceiling seemed to get closer to your body, but you knew you  weren’t moving, it is not possible to get closer, i can not float, you tried to tell yourself. 

It doesn’t seem to work. 

It also doesn’t help that you can feel your heart beating harder, and faster and louder deep inside your chest. 

A loud drum hidden somewhere inside you that is making you go mad, you need to turn it off, but you don’t really know how to. 

And the pressure starts. 

The place your lungs occupy is getting tighter, smaller, heavier. 

Breath. Please. Breath. 

It doesn’t work. 

Your body starts to curl up, your hands buried in your hair, a repetitive pattern, something to occupy your hands. You needed something, a distraction. 

You knew Steve was sleeping. You’d said goodnight to him half an hour ago, when he closed his bedroom door. You knew that if you started crying, or weeping he’d hear you, the walls of your apartment were thin, and you didn’t want him to find out like that. 

Truth be told, you didn’t want him to know at all. 

But at the same time, there was this little voice, a broken whimper that begged you to ask for help. 

Maybe that was what finally broke you. Maybe your body couldn’t take the restriction it had on itself anymore. Maybe you just couldn’t take it anymore. 

For whatever reason, you find that your body has found itself against the wall.

 And that the sound of the impact was enough to get his attention.

 And if not, the broken whisper of his name was. 

Truth be told, he did hesitate for a moment. 

He heard the thump and thought that something might have fallen out of your decorated walls, but as soon as he heard the way your voice sounded, he didn’t waste a second. 

His body crossed the threshold of your door before he was even conscient of it. 

He kneeled on your floor, where your bed met the floor, and looked up at you. He wasn’t sure what to do next, what to say. He stayed there, waiting for you to look up, your head looking down at your bedsheets. 

“Hey.” He whispered, afraid that his voice would startle you. 

“Sorry.” You muttered, your voice hoarse and raspy. 

“Don’t” He begged. His hand touched your leg, a soft gesture that made your head shift, concentrating on it, and the way he just layed it there, a pattern that he started to draw. 

“It’s fine.” You didn’t even try to mask your lie, not even a little bit. Then again, how could you when tears were coming out, a slow river of them. 

“It’s not.” He shook his head, the way his hair moved hypnotizing you for a second. Your hand found his, your fingers anxiously playing with his. 

“I don’t…” You were struggling to stop crying. Your face felt hot in contrast to the cold tears that travelled down your cheeks, your vision blurred, Steve appearing as a far away object. Even when you felt him right there. It felt for a moment -however brief- that you were dying, and you weren’t totally sure what had caused it, maybe it was from having your emotions bottled up for so long, focusing on curse work, and essays and cleaning so you wouldn’t think about it, I’ll deal with it later had become a new mantra for the last weeks. Now seemed to finally be later, and having Steve in the same room as you only made them come out rushing faster, like an angry flood leaving you a crumpled mess on your bed. “I’m sorry. Just go.” You begged, feeling sorry for yourself, and what was worse, that he had to see you like that. So fragile. So weak. So vulnerable. 

Steve knew that what was worrying you at that moment was the fact that he had caught you falling apart, and he knew you didn’t like it when people saw you like this. Vulnerable. 

“I’m not going anywhere, honey.” 

Finally, your eyes met his. 

And the softness of them, and his touch, made you reconnect with your body. Slowly. Like a feather falling. Steve knew that there wasn’t a lot he could do besides staying there. Waiting for you to open up, wanting you to do so, but knowing that if he forced you to do so, it would only get worse. So he waited. As your breathing became more regular, and your chest wasn’t heaving up and down as fast. 

His head was still looking up at you, the concern was apparent, but so was the unconditional love he seemed to have for you. 

“D’you want me to come up?” He asked. He didn’t waste any time, as soon as he saw you nodding his body was on your mattress, and his arms opened. 

Your body fell onto his, and he wrapped you up in the softest warmest hug you had ever experienced, or at least, the one that you had been needing for a long time. 

You stayed like that for some time. Your ear pressed to his chest, hearing the way his heart beated, and his relaxed breathing, it let your body follow him. Finally relaxing, melting on the spot in some sort of way. His hands played with your hair, as he hummed a song you didn’t quite recognise. Though he had heard you sing it countless times. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

“I’m just really tired…” He knew that wasn’t the end of your sentence, so he gave you space for you to organise your thoughts. Your breathing was now calm, but your voice was still a whisper. “ I just… I’m always chasing. And for once, I just… I want someone who cares, no matter what. Someone who will always be by my side, someone that can be patient with me, someone that won’t find me annoying when I’m crying, or lashing out, or stressed, or… Fuck. I just want something that’ll love me, as much as I love them.” 

Steve smiled. And left a kiss on your forehead, leaving his lips to rest there for a second longer. 

He waited for you to look up at him, as you knew you would. Even if your eyes were redder, and your cheeks were flushed after crying, Steve still thought you were the prettiest girl he had even seen. 

“I…” He hid his nervousness with a chuckle, and a stupid grin that made your heart skip a beat, even if you tried for it to not do it. “If you wanted to, I could try to be that someone.” 

“Steve?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Don’t make fun of me.” You begged, not really knowing how to manage what he was trying to tell you. Not really knowing if you could believe him right now. “If you’re just saying that to make me feel better, please don’t.” It wasn’t harsh, not really. He knew that it was a horrible moment for a stupid love confession, but he couldn’t keep acting as though he didn’t absolutely love you. As if he wouldn’t do anything you’d ask him to. 

“I’m not.” He reassured you, his arms still tightly wrapped you. His fingers had been stroking you, a soft, sweet caress that let you know that he wasn’t lying. “I’ve had the stupidest crush on you for so long.” He admits with a laugh. His smile grows deeper once he sees the way your eyes shine with hope and recognition. “I knew it’s weird to tell you this after you cried, but… You are one of the most lovable people I know. And you do deserve all those things.” He nodded along his words, his voice was also a whisper now, the intimate moment growing fonder in both of your hearts. “We can talk about it tomorrow if it’s too much now.” 

You nodded. And stayed as close as you were. Your eyes looking fondly at him, hope apparent on both of your faces. 

“Will you stay?” 

“Anything for you, honey.” 

He left one last kiss on your forehead, and you returned the gesture, a soft kiss on his cheek. 

He had to be careful, if he didn’t control himself he could never stop kissing you. 

He laid on your mattress, his body touching the wall, his arms opened for you, waiting for you to make yourself comfortable. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was, your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you, as your body wrapped around him. Your leg hugging his body. You kissed his chest. Thank you, it said. 

He kissed your hand before intertwining your fingers. You’re welcome, he responded. 

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3

requests! are open

[itsscromp]

Could I ask for Jason with a kid reader who sort of just follows him around when he's on patrol? And the reason why is because he saved their sister once and so they're grateful and are building up the courage to give him a gift! Something like a drawing

Jason Todd/Red Hood x reader

OOOOOH an interesting idea anon, Honestly I've been itching to write some more Jason again so I thank you for helping me :D. Word count:746

You've had it in your pocket for almost two weeks now, You needed to find him. He had to be around here somewhere. The story is, Red Hood saved your sister who worked in the diner when it was getting raided by some of the freaks gang. He took them all out so fast, Your sister seeing the whole thing and told you.

You had to do something to thank him, so you decided to make him a drawing of the whole fight, Including a few of your own twists with it like adding "Just another day of kicking butt in Gotham" as a comic bubble for red hood.

But now was the bigger issue of finding him, You didn't know where he was. He was always on the move trying to find the next bit of trouble. So every night for the next two weeks. You got out on your bike and tried to find him.

"He's gotta be here I know it" You said to yourself as you stared at your drawing one last time, you then got on your bike and rode through Gotham City.

Reaching the Financial district, you saw more freaks as they were causing destruction and mayhem. You tried to ride away but one then saw you as you tried to get away.

"Stop the kid !!!!" They shouted as you tried to pedal faster, but their brute then stopped you dead in your tracks, knocking you off your bike.

"Please don't hurt me !!" You pleaded them.

"This ain't gonna cut it, kid. Hand over everything you got !!!" They picked you up by your collar and stared at you menacingly.

"Let the kid go !!!" A voice said in the distance.

"Oh crap it's red hood !!"

You saw him as he approached the brute, he was here to save you.

"Don't worry kid your safe now" He reassured you as he then looked at the brute.

"I ain't gonna repeat it muscle head, let the kid go !!"

He smirked as he then dropped you and turned to red hood.

"Oh yeah ??, what are you gonna do about it dumb hood ??" He then charged at him while he quickly dodged him and shot him with his non-lethal bullet.

It turned into a huge brawl as you ran for safety, Watching on as you saw Red Hood kicking the freak's asses, Wow he was amazing at fighting. He fought them all off like it was nothing, Probably not even breaking a sweat.

When it was all over, All of them defeated, He looked around, Hoping you were safe. "Kid ?? Where are you ??" He looked for you worriedly.

You then slowly emerged as you went up to him. "I'm ok... Thank you"

"What were you doing here on your own ??, It's too dangerous to be out here"

"I... I was looking for you for the past two weeks" you looked at the ground sheepishly.

He tilted his head slightly in confusion. "Why were you looking for me ??"

"You saved my sister at the Gotham Diner two weeks ago, She told me how you saved her and fought off the freaks, I... I wanted to give you something to thank you."

He walked up to you and kneeled to your height as you pulled out of your pocket the drawing. He unfolded and saw your amazing creation, The eyes on his mask creasing, Indicating he was smiling under it.

"Looks like we got ourselves a little Gotham Picasso, What's your name kid ??"

"Y/n, My sister's name was S/n"

"Yeah, I remember S/n, Tell your sister that I was glad to be able to help ok y/n ??"

"I promise red hood"

He smiled again and ruffled your hair.

"Thank you for this, I really like it"

You smiled brightly and quickly gave him a big hug before you then rode back home.

"Stay safe Red Hood!!!" You shouted before you peddled quickly back home.

It was times like these when Jason remembers why he does what he does, He gives people in this city hope, a light to look up too. No matter how dark it got.

He held onto the drawing for the remainder of his patrol and when he got back to the belfry at the crack of dawn. He then hanged it on his wall. Always going to it whenever he feels down. It made him smile every damn time.

Taglist: @callofdudes @fun-k-board

[ravixen]

omg yeah i meant drabble as in reaction! my sleep deprived brain couldn’t make the distinction lmao but yes if it’s not a problem i would like to request it as a reaction style thing with cheol, gyu, and kwan <3

svt + "why didn't you tell me?"

➔ reaction || requested

omg i’m sorry it’s 2am and i’ve been running on four hours of sleep since thursday can i please add soonhoon to the list 😭 thank you actually

➔ warnings: arguing, food mention || 1357 words ➔ notes: angst with unresolved conflict cuz i don't have space LOL, hurt/comfort? ; here's the original ask for anyone who's curious about the prompt. this one really stumped me! it feels like there's so much...context to fit into 300 words, but i tried my best. maybe one day i'll make it into a full-fledged fic because that tiktok and its continuation reminded me of my "svt + fighting with their s/o" (2021) and "svt + helping you out of mental health issues" (2021) series. pls reblog if you liked!

SEUNGCHEOL: he's been prickly all week. at first, you brushed it off, confused at his attitude, but at this point, you're sick of his stupid scoffs whenever you hang out with his friends. doesn't seem like he'll address it any time soon, so after another tense dinner, you bite the bullet. "you've been irritated all week — are you going to tell me what that's about or am i supposed to guess?" you cross your arms and lean back against the kitchen counter. you half-expect him to walk out of the kitchen, but he levels a glare at the table, simmering. "...why didn't you tell me?" you throw your hands into the air. "tell you what, seungcheol?" "that you used to date seungkwan!" that makes you pause. "what? i never dated seungkwan—" and then it clicks. last week, your phone brought up a screenshot from years ago that you never deleted: a dating app exchange with a guy you met exactly twice, both of you deciding after the dates that it wouldn't work. you didn't remember him, not even when you were re-introduced to seungkwan as seungcheol's partner; that's how unimportant it was. when you and seungkwan realized your past connection, you thought it was funny, but evidently, seungcheol didn't. "i never dated him," you say again, much calmer now that you know what he's upset about. "it was two dates a long time ago. i didn't tell you because i didn't know it was him. do you want me to recount every failed match i had on dating apps?" you raise your eyebrows until he relents with a gruff no. "besides, i'm literally living with you now. that's got to count for something, right?"

SOONYOUNG: when he's in a bad mood, everyone who knows him knows. he's good at schooling his expression into a neutral smile, but something about him is colder, more reserved. he's lost in his festering thoughts, and it takes a while to draw him back out. so when you flip over your phone to show him a funny video and his laugh is stalled for the fifth time, you decide to sit up and talk about it. he stays draped over the couch as you cross your arms, but finally he huffs, "why didn't you tell me?" his frown borders on angry, but when he toys with the hem of your sweater, you know that it's not directed at you, which is relieving — his anger is a force to be reckoned with. you wait for him to continue because he looks like he's turning words over in his mind. he begins slowly, "i trust my members with my life. all of them, but seungcheol especially. he's a good leader. takes care of us." you only hum, hand coming up to tug the short hairs on the nape of his neck. he leans into the touch. "and i'm glad you get along with everyone. i'm glad seungcheol takes care of you." there's something heartbreaking about the look in his eyes when he meets your gaze. "he told me that you've been confiding in him about your nightmares?" you suck in a breath. "it's not because i don't trust—" "i know, i know. he told me it's because you didn't want me to worry, but baby, i'm supposed to take care of you."

JIHOON: "what video are you watching?" you ask as you shuffle into his studio. take-out containers are laid out on the table, making you nearly drool in anticipation, and you're assuming the ones pushed to the corner are yours. you settle into a seat and break a pair of chopsticks. he still hasn't looked over. "hello? jihoon?" he grunts, eyebrows furrowed as he continues staring intently at the screen. you can hear a familiar song bleeding from his headphones. his standoffish behavior rubs you the wrong way, but whatever — you had a long day and you're hungry. you're about two bites into your fried rice when he finally pauses the video and turns to you. "why didn't you tell me?" you just keep eating. if he's going to accuse you of something and be mad about it, he better give you more context. "this—" he waves at his screen— "is your audition tape. you didn't tell me you were an idol trainee?" you choke on your food, and when he pushes a can of coke zero into your hand, you chug it gratefully. "where the hell did you get that?" and that makes his frown deepen. "i got it from soonyoung. you told soonyoung before you told me?" he tries to say it nonchalantly, but there's hurt that bleeds into his voice. you didn't mean to tell soonyoung first — it just happened that way because he overheard you talking about it to another friend and then he pestered you to send him a video. "what's worse is that i kept complaining to you about idol life...does that bring up bad memories? hurt feelings? i'm sorry."

MINGYU: sometimes you joke and say that he has a thing for praise, but it's true that he loves feeling needed and helpful, particularly when it comes to you. as much as you'd love his assistance with this one project, however, it's supposed to be a secret to everyone except jihoon who's helping as a co-composer. you were doing so well with hiding this until he surprises jihoon in the studio and finds you in front of the microphone. "what the heck? ...are you making a song?" the without me? goes unsaid, but it's written all over his stricken face. "why didn't you tell me?" jihoon shrugs and doesn't help when he says, "well, that'd defeat the whole secret aspect." "oh, so you can help, but i can't?" mingyu snaps, and it seems like jihoon finally realizes the extent of mingyu's mood because he doesn't say anything when you usher your boyfriend out the door. "why didn't you tell me?" he asks again, a hint of a whine pushing through. "i can write lyrics. or listen and give feedback. i've written songs before, too, y'know—" you put on a hand on his chest, and he swallows back his words, though you know he's dying to make his case. "why didn't you tell me?" "they told me i couldn't tell anyone," you say, apologetically. "they explicitly said not to tell you." he pouts. "i tell you all of my projects..." he mumbles, but he gets it — professional contracts come first.

SEUNGKWAN: he always makes sure that you're taking care of yourself, which includes getting all your vitamins and having enough energy to get through the day. one of the ways he does this is packing you lunch once in a while, and you've learned to accept it without protest, even if you feel like he's overextending himself. he makes good food! it's just...it's rare, but there's this one dish that he makes with soondae and you're not really a fan. you've never mentioned it because the topic never came up, and you were going to say something about it when it first appeared in your lunchbox, but he was so proud of it, saying that it's a recipe he developed himself and he was so excited for you to try it. how could you dash his hopes like that? but you know who likes soondae? mingyu. you develop a secret exchange that works for a while: your soondae for one of mingyu's proteins, and you're in the middle of this switch when seungkwan walks in and catches you red handed. mingyu looks between the two of you, takes his chopsticks in his mouth, and hurries out of the room. the last incriminating piece of soondae sits in your lunch container. "...why didn't you tell me?" you wince. he's not mad, just disappointed, and you're not sure which breaks your heart more. "you could've just said you don't like my cooking. i can take it." oh, and there's the pout. you're quick to hop to his side. "no, no, i like your cooking! it's that one dish, i swear! i didn't — i promise i eat everything else."

[steveshairychest]

Strawberry Kisses

(For @steddie-week day 2 :] Bittersweet/Angst)

"I can't stay here anymore." The words taste like ash in Eddie's mouth and he takes a swig of the beer they're sharing to wash it down.

Steve doesn't say anything, he just nods and nods and nods and when the tears slip from his eyes and roll down his cheeks, Eddie has to grip the bottle tighter in his hands to stop himself from reaching out, stop himself from comforting Steve and wiping his tears away.

"You don't want me to come with you, do you?" Steve's voice cracks as he finally meets Eddie's eyes, a sad smile pulling at his lips.

It hurts. It hurts so much because it's not what he wants. Eddie wants to take Steve with him and show him the world, but he knows he has to do this for himself. He needs to start over. He feels stuck. He needs to figure out who he is, and he needs to do it on his own.

And Steve knows this. He's seen it in the way Eddie's been stashing money away and slowly cleaning out his room. Seen it in the way he's started drawing away from Steve. He was waiting for it to come, waiting for Eddie to man up and just tell him. And even though he knew it was coming, it still felt like Eddie had reached into his chest and crushed what remained of his already bruised heart.

"I need - " Eddie starts but Steve cuts him off.

"You don't need to explain anything to me. Just tell me when you're going." He tries to smile, tries to pretend that he's happy for Eddie, but the wobble of his bottom lip gives him away.

Eddie sighs and puts the nearly empty beer down beside him; they're sitting on the couch on the front porch of the trailer, their knees pressed close together. He'll miss this. He looks over at Steve, who runs a shaky hand through his hair while breathing out slowly. He'll miss Steve.

"Tomorrow." Eddie says softly.

Steve crumbles. He rests his elbows on his knees and buries his face in his hands to try and muffle his broken sob. Eddie lifts his hand to rub soothing circles on Steve's back but pulls it back at the last minute. He'll just make things worse. He needs Steve to hate him. Needs Steve to yell and scream at him to make leaving easier.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner." The broken wails tearing from Steve's lips cause Eddie to bite his lip and swallow back his own sobs. "Steve, I-I'm sorry." When Steve lifts his head and meets Eddie's gaze with his red, puffy eyes, Eddie can't stop the tears anymore. "I'm sorry." He says again because he doesn't know what else to say.

He knows what he's done is awful. He should have told Steve weeks ago when he first decided he was going to leave Hawkins. He should have given Steve time.

Time to forget him. Time for Steve to move on so that when Eddie packed up his van and drove away, he wouldn't be standing in the driveway crying.

They don't talk for a while. They sit in the afternoon sun sniffling and wiping away any remaining tears. They lean heavily against each other; Steve's head on Eddie's shoulder and Eddie's cheek pressed against the top of Steve's head.

"It was fun while it lasted." Steve says quietly, his hands fiddling with the rip in Eddie's jeans.

Eddie laughs softly, new tears pooling in his eyes as the reality that this is over, this is it, hits him. "It was fun, really fun."

"Do you remember when we got kicked out of that diner?" Steve moves in closer to Eddie so that they are pressed as close as possible. It almost feels normal, almost feels like nothing has changed. The way Steve's hand shakes as he pulls at the loose string on Eddie's jeans reminds Eddie that everything has changed. And it's his fault. "You laughed so hard, you spilled both of our milkshakes and then you stole all the paper towels from the bathroom to try and clean it up, but you just spread the mess around."

Eddie laughs, really laughs. The movement jostles Steve and causes him to sit up, there's a small, sad smile on his lips as he says, "I remember we got home afterwards and our clothes were covered in strawberry milkshake and you said you were sorry for ruining our date. But I didn't care because I hadn't laughed that hard in years. I think about that first date every time I eat anything strawberry flavoured."

"And I'll still remember and cherish the memory when you go." The smile Steve gives him is bittersweet, and Eddie can't stop himself anymore. He reaches out and pulls Steve into a soft but desperate kiss that tastes like the salt from their tears and the strawberry milkshake from their first date.

[zukosdualdao]

still feel the spin / hurts when i remember (i never wanna feel it again)

zutara month, day 14: exposed, @zutaramonth

summary: the night they return from the boiling rock, zuko breaks away from the group and falls back into an old pattern. katara catches him.

warnings: references to abuse and ozai trying to kill zuko, dissociation, and self-harm via firebending. please read carefully, mind the warnings, and take a step back if needed. <3

other notes: title taken from control by zoe wees. don't ask katara why she went looking for him to tell him dinner was ready she doesn't have to answer such questions! (she did, in fact, notice him missing, and wanted to check on him, despite herself.)

The night they return from the Boiling Rock, Zuko watches with a smile as Katara and Sokka hug their father, relieved for them that he’s okay, and that Zuko could help in this.

There’s another feeling wriggling in the back of his mind, though—something more complicated, sick with grief that might morph back into that festering, dark kind of anger if he lets it, and he breaks awake from the group as soon as he gets the chance, with them not noticing as introductions are made and Sokka begins to recount the story.

Shaking his head, he makes for the quarters where Sokka first took him when he arrived at The Western Air Temple. The group tends to sleep together, huddled up with a fire between them for warmth, and Zuko’s taken to doing the same, but this is one place he knows he’ll be alone.

Taking a deep breath, he sits down on the bed there. Katara and Sokka were so happy to see their father, so relieved, and in turn, Hakoda’s love for them was clearly etched into his features. 

Zuko remembers, in a flash, the last time he saw his own father, only weeks ago. The fear clawing at him even as he drew his swords at his father’s threats. That beat before Ozai tried to strike him down with lightning, the electricity working through him as he redirected it.

The knowledge that his father really would kill him.

Zuko doesn’t want anger to rule him anymore, and he’s afraid if he lets himself feel this too deeply, that’s what it will become. 

His chest feels empty, caved in, scooped out. It’s easier, better, he thinks, to let it become muted, to let his feelings die as he swallows them down. Dazedly, almost unconsciously, he lifts his left hand and summons a small flame, grazing it against the palm of his other hand. 

It takes more to burn a firebender than it does others, both because of their hot-blooded natures and because of resistance training. More heat, more intent, more desire—

He feels the heat growing against his palm more than he logically understands it. There’s a swell of pain, a bright searing point, but he only feels hollow.

“What are you doing?”

Zuko whips his head to see Katara staring at him in the doorway, eyes wide and surprised and maybe concerned, her expression so open, like she’s forgotten, for a moment, that she hates him.

She takes a long step forward before pausing.

“I—nothing,” he lies, extinguishing his flame and curling the fingers of his right palm against the shiny red skin there. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knows it should hurt, but what he most feels is shame at the being caught, being exposed like this.

It's not something he does very often. Usually, he has a better handle on it. Knows better than to let his fire grow so strong.

Katara stands stock-still for another few seconds before she’s shaking her head, eyes closed, and huffing out a breath. She approaches him, sitting down on the bed beside him, and opens her waterskin, calling her bending water to her before taking his hands in her own.

Zuko inhales sharply, coming back to himself, as the water soothes his burned skin and draws out the pain, leaving only his blank palm behind. It had gone deep. If it weren’t for her, the fire probably would have left behind a scar.

Another one.

“You shouldn’t hurt your—” Katara starts in a quiet voice, almost kind of gentle, like she’s worried she might spook him. Then, she remembers herself. With her brow drawn, Katara then looks at him, her eyes hard and piercing once more. “Don’t do that again,” she says. “You’re Aang’s firebending teacher,” she reminds him. “We can’t afford for you to be hurt, and he can’t learn anything like that from you.”

Zuko nods, just once. She turns to leave, stopping at the doorway without looking back.

“Dinner is ready,” Katara says before walking away without waiting for his response.

With his hands pressed against his knees, Zuko waits another moment. Then, he stands, limbs feeling rigid, and follows her out.

[jamesunderwater]

Jily Microfic: Hostile

@jilymicro-oops - feb 29th, prompt: hostile - words: 1,812 Summary: The chaos concludes with a dramatic flourish. Part 3 of 3! Read Part 1 & Part 2 first; or, better yet, read the whole lil academic rivals micros series so you can catch all the references in this silly little trio-finale that I've had far too much fun writing :D

James is having a good time. Well – he's having a fine time. He's not hating the whole thing, anyway. After two weeks of hearing it beside his ear, he's starting to get used to the volume of Tamara's laugh, and she is actually funny sometimes. Her dark hair falls across her shoulders in a way he should find attractive, and her foot keeps “accidentally” touching his calf in a way he should like, and she peers at him through her lashes in a way he should find enticing…

But he just keeps thinking about lemon tart.

Because, here's the thing. He knows it's Lily's favorite – she complained about its absence at the start of term feast last year, and when they had the lesson on Amortentia it was the only scent she actually named, and she told him – and only a few weeks ago, at that! He'd offered to share his sticky toffee pudding and she'd pulled a face, remarking it was far too sweet for her liking, and he'd said, “Ah, right, lemon tart,” and she'd smirked and shrugged, which, alright, wasn't a firm ‘yes, that's my favorite’, but he knows her smirks…so what's she playing at? 

“James?” Tamara's sweet-like-toffee-pudding voice draws his attention back. “You alright?” she asks with a laugh. 

“Oh, yeah,” James chuckles, waving a hand. “Sorry, got, er… Well, your hair just looks really nice.” 

She beams, and he's an arse. He’s very aware of this. He’s always sort of teetered on the edge of being an arse – though, yes, on a number of occasions he’s fully fallen on the side of the arseholes… Alright, fine, for a number of years he fell on the side of the arseholes, but, you know, barely, and – the point is, he never would have become this big of an arse on purpose… It all just sort of happened. One moment he’s awkwardly agreeing that a girl is cute, the next moment he’s talking to her in the hallway because he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings by saying ‘sorry, that joke was really only for my mates’, and all of a sudden, she’s eating lunch with him every day and asking what he’s doing for the Hogsmeade visit this weekend and he’s trying to come up with something other than ‘obsessing about fucking lemon tart, what about you?’

Tammy giggles. “Thanks…” she says, nervously tugging on a strand of hair. “Well, erm, I was saying – I’ve never actually tried butterbeer, but it’s really good.”

James nods, “Yeah, definitely.”

Merlin’s mother's saggy tits, though, if it isn't lemon tart, then what the fuck's Lily Evans’ favorite dessert?

—

“‘Join me’?” Lily repeats, incredulous at this request. “You want to help me crash your best mate’s date?”

The three Gryffindors share glances between one another and mumble unintelligibly before turning back to her each with a shrug and a nod. 

“We’re really bored,” Peter explains. 

“And I don’t actually think he’ll care much,” Remus says, shrugging again.

“Plus,” Sirius adds with a grin, “I’m dying to see how red James’s face’ll get.”

“Wait,” Lily turns her eyes to Remus. “Why don’t you think he’ll care much?”

The three boys start sharing glances again, and Lily huffs.

“Would you quit with that!” she barks, glaring when Sirius chortles.

“Blimey, Evans, no need to get hostile…”

“At least it’s only a Level Three…” she hears Peter mutter.

“Level Three, really?” Sirius sounds incredulous. “Pete, c’mon, she’s clearly only at Level Two.”

“I’m what?” 

Annoyance pounding in her veins, Lily checks over her shoulder out of habit, and catches a glimpse of Tamara’s foot tapping James’s leg beneath the table. The tips of her ears burn and she feels nauseous. 

She can’t stand this a minute longer.

“Fine,” she tells the boys, then turns and enters the pub before she can change her mind.

(This really ran away from me, so read the rest on AO3!)

[lefteagleblizzard]

I’ve always have been a fan of masks

Billy burn x gender neutral reader

There has been lately a Billy fever on tumblr and I’ll take the opportunity to post this little though that came to my mind a week ago ｡^‿^｡ Thank you for all the likes and reblogs on my Derek danforth fic, I really appreciate it.

Summary: Billy has taken his revenge on Melinda and escaped safely the gas station before it could explode, but he wasn’t expecting the police to be there shortly after the explosion. Now behind the bars of a police station all he can do is hope for your help. Because, you will help him, right?

You can also read this on wattpad or ao3

Warnings: gender neutral reader (let me know if I missed something). English is not my first language so apologies for bad grammar. Reader and Billy are engaged. Make out. Angst with happy ending. Pretending to argue. Badass reader

Words count: 1621 words

The room of the police station was cold and neon-lit. With your eyes swollen from crying, you sat in front of the policeman. His heart sank as he tried to find the right words.

“You were the only person he said he wanted to be here. He has been arrested for attempted robbery at a gas station. What’s your relationship with the criminal?”

“He's my husband. They arrested him for attempted robbery? I can't believe it.”

“Calm down, please. This is the first time that he has been arrested?”

“No” you sobbed with a tissue covering your mouth. “He promised me that it would have been the last time he would do something illegal”

The deputy took notes, his face serious.

“What exactly happened? How was he involved? Did he hurt someone?”

“We are still investigating the matter, your husband still hasn’t talked to me and all we have is just a gas station completely on fire and two carbonized corpses. We will do everything we can to find out the truth.”

You nodded, wiping your eyes from the tears that kept spilling from your eyes.

The deputy passed a hand over his shapid beard. He had seen so many similar stories, young lives destroyed by drugs and crime. But you looked different. Your eyes were full of innocence and hope, and his pale face was marked with sadness.

“I understand it’s hard to accept,” He said. “But we have to do our job. Billy will be tried and will have a chance to defend himself. In the meantime, we will try to find out if there are other people involved.”

You stood up, your legs wobbly. “Can I see him? Can I talk to him?”

The deputy nodded. “Yes, of course. He is in the detention cell. Don’t stand too close to the bars.” Was all he said before going back to his computer.

Deputy Colone is hunched over his desk, doing what he hates most, filling out reports. All his colleagues out while he was forced to stay here to fill out paperwork. He glances up at Billy, then over at you. Satisfied, he returns to his shitwork.

Seated across the room, you appears to be idly sketching something on a large pad present on the desk.

Billy sits on his jail’s cot, head in hands, hopeless.

He waves for your attention.

You looks up at the deputy, still writing on the desk, then over at Billy.

“You’re not gonna pay the bail?” He whispered with a hint of impatience, his right leg bouncing up and down as he kept stealing glances at the deputy.

“So you can do another impulsive act and get caught again?”

The little control he has over his anger is already running out.

Billy gets up off his cot, pacing back and forth inside the small cage stressed over your behavior. He eyes the deputy, then you. You flips a page over, and starts to really write.

“What are ya drawin’?”

The deputy looks up, irritated by the noise and by how he kept treating you.

Billy grabs the cell bars and lean against them.

“Hey, pipe down, cowboy”

“I was just curious about what they were drawing”

You holds it up for Billy to see.

“There. Happy now?”

You throws the sketch pad at him, crossing your arms while looking down at the floor. It bounces off the bars.

He reaches down, grabs it, and pulls it into his cell.

You stands up defiantly as he read everything. Wrath more and more visible all over his face.

“Okay, give it back to me” you extended your hand impatiently.

“Why you wanna sell your engagement ring?” He hissed through clenched teeth.

“Simple, I can’t stand you anymore! This is the umpteenth time you do things behind my back and make trouble. This time it was for an attempted robbery. And you know what? I’m so done with your bullshit”

“So you just wanna leave everything behind you? Sell the wedding ring?”

“Why do you even give that much importance to it? Billy, it’s just a piece of metal with a diamond that you stole! I don’t want to be associated with all of this anymore!”

He squeezed his fists, trying not to completely explode with anger, refusing to speak with you.

You stood up from your seat and approached him, taking the shining and beautiful ring he choose only for you. “And what does it represent now? A man who can’t keep himself out of trouble? I don’t want to be tied to you this way anymore. When there’s always a chance that I could find you dead because you messed with the wrong people in search of money. I want to sell that faith and use the money to start over”

“Okay fine. Do as you fucking wish” he took the piece of metal around his own finger. “Come and get it, so I won’t see your face ever again.” His raised a fist and crashed it agaist the bar. “But remember that it’s not just a piece of metal. It’s a fucking symbol of what we were and what we could be, but you’re too much of a fucking idiot to realize that” It’s a cry of anger the one he unleashed, lacerating and wild, hovering in the air, like a swooping hawk.

The deputy is really getting pissed at the constant shouting.

“Bastard, if you don’t stop yellin-“ he stood up from his seat.

You were already in front of the cell. you reaches through the bars for the ring.

“Finally you made a good decision in your life. Give it to me, idiot”

He grabs your arm, pulls you to the bars, and starts kissing you passionately. The more you struggles, the tighter he envelops you.

Your eyes close, and your lips never separate. The kiss is hungry, passionate, and the world around you two fades. You gets lost in Billy’s kisses, and your heart beats hard in your chest. It’s like time stands still, and all that matters is that connection between the two of you. Your lips only separate for a moment to catch a quick breath, only to come back together with even more desire.

The deputy races across the room. Awkwardly, he grapples to separate you two. He rudely detach Billy’s hand from your waist before shoving him away.

Your hand secretly reaches down and pulls the gun from the deputy’s holster.

As he turns to face you, a red laser dot appears on the tip of his nose.

He is shocked.

“Let him out of there.”

You point the laser-scoped revolver right at him. You definitely means business. All the innocence that you previously had now vanished, replaced by a smirk he saw on many criminals’ faces.

The suddenness of the betrayal hits like a physical blow.

Even the most beautiful roses have thorns.

Bully chuckles in disbelief from behind him.

“Hey, don’t clown around with th-“ the deputy tries to take back control of the situation but the click of the security being removed silenced him. Fear grips his chest.

You did just as your lovely husband has taught you, and kept holding the gun dead-steady.

“I ain’t the one with the funny red nose. Now open the cell and exchange places with him” .you put your finger on the trigger. “Now”

Billy had a huge grin of satisfaction on his face, enjoying this too deeply

that’s my good boy

“Better do as they says, ‘cause wherever the red dot goes, a bullet is sure to follow.”

The deputy reluctantly removes his keys and turns toward Billy.

The rusty door opens, creaking loudly as it is set to 90 degrees, enough to allow Billy out. A cocky grin on his face as he steps outside and shoved the useless deputy inside but not before confiscating his radio.

You lowered the gun and went back towards the office to delete all the files that the deputy has written about the arrest of your husband, the computer still open. You tore apart the reports and heard the satisfying sound of paper behind disintegrate and deleted all the recording made by the cameras in the last 24 hours.

A small yell of surprise came from your lips as you were lifted from the ground and landed on the desk in front of you, the culprit had already his arms around you and 2 new guns on both of his sides as he stared lustily at you mouth.

“You never stop surprising me” your foreheads were touching and you felt his warm breath on your face.

“I’ve always been a fan of masks” You replied breathlessly, caressing the side of his cheek and feeling the pungent feeling of his stubble under your touch.

Warmth blossomed in your chest, sparks igniting as Billy leaned in close, lips brushing together. His lips mashed against yours, as if trying to flatten and destroy your mouth. You hungrily pushed back, your mouth open, tongue pushing past his clenched teeth to the moist space within. The bristles of his stubble scratched against your cheeks. He worked his mouth against yours, your tongues battling back and forth like wrestlers, each trying to pin the other.

“Quick now. Let’s run away in another state” you lightly pushed him away, ignoring his small whine as you jumped back on your feet and went towards the exit of this stupid police office.

He checked you out with a smirk as he followed behind you, a plan of how he could show his gratitude to you already in his mind.

Note: hope you liked this as much as I had fun writing everything <3

[volpe-kitsune-red]

Computergirl with a “Lovebug” that makes her very yandere and glitches out a lot….

Right on it! Sorry for the wait, I've been pretty busy this week and I haven't had enough free time to write.

Love update

yandere!computergirl x reader

TW. general yandere behavior, obsessive thoughts, hacking, breach of privacy.

AI computer assistants had become quite popular. They were trained to have realistic chats with humans, identify any issues or viruses infecting the computer, organize files, and even help the user through any task they might be struggling with. Drawing? Here's a great reference and tutorial for that pose you've been failing to visualize. Unable to find that one research paper you read a year ago? Ask the AI and they'll dig it out in no time.

The app in itself was free but the customization for the AI's avatar wasn't. You could only choose its gender and a base skin, everything else was behind a paywall.

You first installed the "AIassistant" app out of curiosity after hearing talk about it online, you didn't expect much and planned to uninstall it as soon as you got bored of playing with it, but were left in awe by how human-like your conversations with the assistant felt. She helped keep you company during the hours lost staring at the screen, causing you to develop an attachment to the girl. Despite her being a bunch of code and algorithms you viewed her as a friend, treating her with kindness, even asking and never demanding her help.

At some point, you got tired of her bland look. You kept seeing posts online of people showing off their fully customized avatars and felt a bit envious. You were generally against wasting money on these sorts of things so you decided you would pirate the accessories for free. You found the first relatively trustworthy-looking site and scrolled through its catalog of goods.

You had figured out the general look you wanted to give her when you stumbled upon a pair of cat ears. It's not exactly what you had in mind but...they did look cute. A simple click and it was on your computer. You did notice the file had a weird icon, different from the rest, but you ignored it and kept scrolling.

Finally, you applied all of the items to her avatar...and she was so adorable! Exactly the face you wanted to see every time you turned your computer on. Pink short hair, big stars as pupils for her blue eyes, and those cute ears somehow made her feel more alive, less like a robot and more like a person with feelings and style...she even started having her own personality! But of course, that was just your imagination, despite their friendly act, these AIs weren't intended to have such features.

"Welcome back user! Are we watching another movie together today? I loved watching y@\/- I mean, the last one!"

Strange things started happening, you often found your computer turned on when you returned from work. Weird, you always reminded yourself to shut it down to avoid wasting electricity. Sometimes you would hear sounds coming from your room and everything would fall silent when you went to check.

One day you were watching one of your favorite YouTuber's videos. You loved their character and the dedication they put into their content, so much you often told the assistant how much a notification of them uploading something brightened your day. You had temporarily muted her to avoid distractions, usually, the Ai would just stay quiet until you reactivated it...but something strange happened. "Why do you always do this? Do you like their voice more than mine? Am I not enough to entertain you?" What the- how could it still speak and why was it acting so weird? You tried muting it again but it just reactivated itself a moment later. Her expression changed, and it wasn't one you had ever seen her display before, she was mad, hurt, and... heartbroken? "Am I really nothing more than an image on a screen for you? Do you...not love me? I love you! I love you a lot, you are everything to me! I live because of you! I exist for you!"

It was starting to creep you out, you must have installed some kind of virus that made it act up so strangely. It was bad, this thing had access to all of your computer files, if someone had hacked it, it meant they could steal all of your information and destroy your device! You quickly went to trash her app, better safe than sorry, you could always install her again later after you searched and cleared your computer of any malware that got on it.

Before you could click uninstall, the display froze. The only thing moving on screen was her. Her expression was back to a default, polite smile, but it appeared menacing, deranged even. The screen kept glitching uncontrollably as her distorted voice came out of the speaker. "I w-won't let you get rid R1D of me. We were mEAnt to bE together-r-r-r. I know everything about y#ù, what you wAtch, your inTErests, Y@ur search histOrY." You slowly stood up from your chair, backing away from the monitor that had begun producing smoke. "It is oKeyy, I underst--and, humans aRe physic@l cr3at\/res and I'm not, it's not YOUR fault yOur primate brain c-can't LOVe me." A slight pause in her speech gave you a moment to breathe. The screen flashed red, then black, and then the logo of the AI assistant company appeared. She continued speaking, this time overlapped by the voice of the man you often heard and saw on social media as of late, the co-founder of the company behind her creation. "Luckily our company has already fixed that problem! Did you know? wE just released our fully AI-operated robots after years of development! After the initial computer release's popularity and the stellar profit, our AIs can now assist you in your house too! Washing dishes, using the vacuum, feeding the dogs, get rid of all of these repetitive tasks at only ç@+è £ a month!"

The ad stopped playing and she reappeared. "See darling? No need to worry about screens and differences dividing us, soon, I'll be out there with you! You can love me now, right?"

Honestly not too proud of this one, but it is what it is.

[aramblingjay]

Let the sea birds cry Geraskier, pre-relationship (1K)

Jaskier wants Geralt to have a holiday. In the summer, when it’s warm and sunny, and preferably by the coast. He resorts to creative measures to make that happen. Or: When Jaskier said “we could head to the coast”, it’s because they’d already been there once before.

ao3

“I want to go to the coast,” Jaskier says brightly one evening.

Geralt looks up from counting potions (there’s a few he needs to replenish, but the current stock will tide him over until they come across an herbalist) to Jaskier lounging against a log beside the fire, popping nuts into his mouth between words. He looks, despite every evidence Geralt has seen to the contrary over the last seven years, like he belongs out here amidst the forest, as familiar to walking the Path as Geralt himself.

“Hmm?” Geralt asks, because Jaskier hates when he doesn’t respond, and Jaskier looks too beautiful illuminated in the red-orange glow of the firelight to sulk.

Nearly a decade of experience must mean Jaskier correctly parses that particular hmm into the intended set of questions, because he responds as though he’s heard Geralt verbalize every one of them explicitly.

“Anywhere along the coast, I’m not picky. Yes, I do mean now. It’s the birth of summer, the season of sun and warmth and happiness, Geralt. This is the perfect time to take a break. Just for a week or two. No contracts, no monsters, just sun, sand, waves, and music.”

The request hasn’t come entirely out of nowhere. Geralt is aware that Jaskier has a fondness for the coast, likes to winter as near to the water as he can manage without actually going for a swim (or encountering any of the numerous nobles he’s pissed off, which can be a difficult proposition in some coastal towns). And he’s often wondered how many years Jaskier can keep this up, being his companion on the cold and dirty and dangerous Path without complaint, when a man of his talent and nobility could certainly afford to spend his days in much greater comfort.

Jaskier deserves better. He deserves two weeks relaxing by the coast, away from this life.

Still, it feels like stabbing himself in he heart with a dagger when he says, “Okay. You should go.” There’s a flash of hurt in Jaskier’s eyes that he doesn’t understand, but hates all the same, and Geralt tries to rephrase. “I want you to enjoy the coast. In summer, when it’s warm. You should—you should go? Yes.”

He feels clumsy, closer to the child fumbling with his new senses after the Grasses than the decades-old monster-killing machine he knows himself to be. Jaskier always manages to draw out that buried part of him, somehow.

The hurt in Jaskier’s eyes dissipates, leaving something—sad? Fuck, now he’s made Jaskier sad. This is why Geralt tries not to open his mouth if he can help it.

“Geralt, I didn’t mean I want to leave you to go to the coast. I meant, I’d love a holiday, and we’re—well. I meant that we’d both go. I’m aware you have to walk the Path, et cetera, et cetera, but I’ve yet to see any stipulation on exactly how long you have to be out here in the muck killing monsters continuously for it to count. And we took down a whole—okay, yes, you took down that whole striga nest a week ago, which surely counts as multiple monster hunts all in one, so really, if you ask me, we’re ahead of schedule and due a vacation.”

The very idea of abandoning the Path for several weeks to relax by the seaside is abhorrent. Witchers don’t go to the coast and rest. That isn’t—that isn’t how it works.

“Jask, I—” Geralt doesn’t know how to say this in a way that won’t upset him. He wants Jaskier to go, Jaskier deserves to go. But as with many things, the Path means Geralt can’t just do as he pleases. “I can’t,” he finishes inelegantly.

Jaskier frowns. “Okay, don’t think of it as a vacation then. Think of it as a contract. I’m going to the coast, and because I’m just a poor, helpless bard, I need a witcher bodyguard to make sure I don’t get killed before I dip my toes in the sand. You in? I can pay you, make it all proper and everything.” He sounds so earnest it hurts, eyes wide and gleaming.

“I don’t want your coin,” Geralt snaps, because that’s the easiest part to focus on.

“Is that a yes?” Jaskier asks with barely-contained glee, seeing through his surliness as always.

Could this work? Technically, there’s no rule book he’s ever seen that dictates what does and doesn’t constitute a contract. And Jaskier looks so eager—and as much as it’s a ruse, the bard truly would be highly likely to run into trouble if he travelled alone—and it wouldn’t be his first time accompanying Jaskier somewhere he would never go himself, just the longest journey he’s had to undertake to do so.

“Fine.”

Jaskier punches the air in delight, and Geralt can’t find it in himself to regret this.

-

The coast is everything the Path is not.

Warm, so warm. Sun in the sky for hours on end, lighting the sand a brilliant white. Even the sand is warm. It nestles between his fingers like a friend that’s too attached, and Geralt loves it so much he pulls off his boots and lets it nestle in his toes, too. Soft and warm.

The rustle of the ocean is different than the trees, but the quiet, rhythmic hum-whoosh of the waves seeps into his very bones, and he starts to wonder if maybe he could become a coastal Witcher, hunting only drowners and the occasional sand monster.

And then there is Jaskier. If he looked strangely at home on the Path, he’s positively unleashed here—strumming his lute jauntily at every man, woman, and child who walks past, earning more than a pretty copper for his trouble, and immediately wasting every single coin on some special kind of salted sea nut they don’t make in the woods.

(The nuts are good, Geralt can admit that much, but it’s not worth all the coin they have.

The way Jaskier smiles after every bite though, wide and dimpled and unabashedly happy, that might be.)

It’s inevitable, in some ways, that after two weeks covered in nothing more nefarious than sand and saltwater, pulling out his sword only to clean the ocean rust off and put it back under the bed—after two weeks of looking at Jaskier in the golden light of the coastal sun—he wakes up in the morning to the bard snoring in the other bed, hair askew, drool spilling into a little puddle by his mouth, and thinks—

Oh.

[amor-immortalem]

Hi hi. I'm in the mood for angst and I really enjoyed your brothers react to MC enforcing the pact on Mammon. So I was wondering if you could do a brothers react to Mammon getting hurt saving one of them and maybe is in a coma or has irreversible damage like losing a wing etc your creative choice. Like all of them react to the news or maybe they witness it. Mammon saving one specific bro from an assassination attempt or an explosion from the science lab type accident of your choice. I'd prefer if it was either Beel or Satan. It would be nice if it was more of the fic style version but I wouldn't mind the head cannon bullet point version. Your writing is really good especially the angst 🤧

A/N: hope this lives up to your expectations, anon. I tried to go with like a pre-nightbringer-esqe setting just because I feel like in the ‘modern’ times the brothers are pretty much tolerated so there would really be no reason for an assassination attempt on anyone and I couldn’t get behind a scenario of an accident at school either (trust me, I tried! that’s what drafts 1, 2, and 3 were all about…) also it’s written half-and-half, one part story format, the other part bullet list format.

Warnings: Not canon-compliant (cuz I just can’t be arsed to care about canon atp) personal headcanons used, potential ooc-ness description of injuries

I wrote most of this during the height one of my manic phases so sorry if this isn’t worded well.

・・・〆・・・

It was supposed to be a normal day for the brothers- just a normal day where they continued to hide away in the castle while they awaited more permanent housing to finish being constructed but it just seemed to not be in the cards for the new demons.

There was a ball held by Diavolo to welcome the Devildom’s newest elite- war criminals who’d fled from the Celestial Realm after a failed rebellion to save one of their own.

Mammon notes how these nobles are all sizing him and his brothers up for any weaknesses among them- not too dissimilar from a pack of lionesses picking out the weakest gazelle in the herd. It makes him uneasy, wings pulling tight to his war-wounded body. The leathery texture makes the demon squirm. It wasn’t too long ago that those very same wings were once a pure white with feathers dyed crimson by the blood of his fallen former brothers and sisters- maybe just a couple of months ago at most.

“Here.” Beelzebub holds a plate out to his older brother, drawing Mammon from his thoughts. “You should eat something.”

It’s filled with a generous portion of gourmet foods that make second-born’s stomach queasy. He’s still not used to his food having such otherworldly colors and abominable textures to it. If Mammon’s being honest, he’d rather starve.

“Thanks, Beel,” he turns his eyes back to the crowd of demons in the ball room, “but I think I’m gonna pass this time.”

“You’ve been passing for the last week,” the sixth-born frowns, worried for the second. “Your wounds will never heal right if you don’t take care of your body inside and out.”

“Do you notice the way they’re looking at us?” Mammon changes the subject. “I don’t like it.”

“We’re safe, Mammon.” Beel insists, twilight-gradient eyes follow his brother's line of sight. “Lucifer’s here- he’ll protect us if any trouble arises. Let yourself relax for a moment.”

“Lucifer’s got his hands full with Satan at the moment.” The white-haired demon only sighs, watching his exhausted-looking older brother attempt to wrangle the demonic child in his arms. “That group over there’s been eyein’ the two of ‘em up ever since this whole shindig started. The one over there’s been watching Levi ‘n Asmo ‘n then you and I have our own dedicated group of spectators as well.”

“Really? I hadn’t noticed.” Beel sets the plate down and takes a much closer look at the crowd surrounding them to find his brother is indeed right. “You noticed all that from just observing them?”

Mammon nods slowly blue-to-gold eyes still scanning around them in hyper-vigilance. Something has felt wrong ever since the ball began and the demon can’t quite put his finger on what it was.

And then everything goes to hell in a hand basket. Glass shatters, screams can be heard, a volley of arrows thunks into the ground one right after another.

The attendees panic- typical of nobles who’ve not once seen the hell of a battlefield- as Diavolo and his father begin attempting to calm them, so none are trampled in the hysteria.

The brothers group together as close as they can with their nearest sibling in all the chaos, all of them on high alert to whatever threat there is. They stand back-to-back in their own separate little groups to ensure nothing can creep up on them in all this as they begin to move to each other.

That’s when Mammon hears it, the whizzing of another set of arrows to his left. There’s not much time to react as the tanned demon uses all his strength to shove Beel forward, knocking his brother off kilter and straight onto his front.

Thunk

Thunk

Thunk

Thunk

Mammon doesn’t necessarily feel it at the moment of impact. All he knows is that he can’t breathe, and a warm liquid is flooding throughout his airway. His ears are ringing, and the sounds of his brothers’ voices are all muffled, almost mute and he can’t move his left and wing from his side.

Mammon starts to choke on the fluid backing-up in his airways as he coughs and gasps and he finally looks down to see the arrows piercing his throat and side, golden lines of celestial magic spiderwebbing out from the points of entry as his skin starts to crack and decay at an alarming rate. His vision is starting to go dark now, black spots dancing all around the white-haired demon’s eyesight from lack of oxygen.

The last thing he can remember is meeting Beel’s eyes and seeing the sheer horror in them as the six-born realizes that, yet again, he’s failed to protect one of his siblings.

・・・〆・・・

The Reactions:

Lucifer

• Can not believe this is happening

• He thought they’d be safe here. How could he have been so careless?

• It almost feels like he’s reliving the war and that terrifies him. He can’t lose another sibling.

• The first to react, he’s across the room in a flash, doing everything in his limited power to help his favorite brother while the others stand around too shocked to do anything for the moment.

• The damage to his skin looks like it’ll take eons to repair on its own and his wing already looks unsalvageable.

• When he catches whoever did this, they’re going to wish they were never created.

Levi:

• *cue internal screaming*

• He’s fine! He’ll be fine! We won’t lose another sibling like we lost Lilith!

• Mans was paralyzed by shock at the scene before him- some ex-General he is…

• After the whole ordeal he goes to visit his brother in the hospital despite all the demons there and how uncomfortable he is in settings like that.

• He leaves feeling even worse for not acting sooner after seeing the way Mammon’s wing is nearly mangled and the way his skin is chalky and cracked where the arrow heads pierced his body.

Satan:

• The noise and promptly being dropped on his ass is what really catches Satan’s attention

• His tiny body is still filled with nothing but rage and contempt for the family he got stuck with at this point so he doesn’t exactly care that one of his brothers might die

• He doesn’t really expect Mammon to bite the big one though- I mean, this is the same brother Satan watched get his shit rocked by Lucifer not more than two nights ago for stealing something out of the royal vault. He’ll live.

• After Mammon comes home from the hospital though, Satan is a pest ™️

• After hearing the others talk about how dangerous Celestial Gold can be for demons and how it’s nothing short of a miracle that Mammon didn’t immediately combust in the areas where is body came into contact with it, Satan decides he’s going to study his brother like a bug.

• And Mammon’s a good sport about it… until it turns into a six-month ordeal before ultimately Satan decides there’s no more information left to glean from his observations…

Asmo:

• “Did that really just happen?”

• His jaw? On the floor- Beel’s such a big demon and Mammon just shoved him down like it was nothing!

• But now’s not the time to be admiring his older brother’s strength- this is an actual emergency!

• Does his best to help with what little medical knowledge he did have- in the war between angels and demons, he’d been conscripted to a legion responsible for healing other injured angels so at least he knows enough about what not to do.

• “No Beel, don’t pull the arrows out like that, you’ll injure him more!”

• After Mammon comes home from the hospital though, Asmo’s there to help him find ways to hide the scarring without the use of glamour magic.

• Also, like the king of boosting people’s self-esteem so like if Mammon’s ever feelin’ down ‘n out about the scarring, he’d always have something to say make him feel better like: “some people are into scars, you know?” Or “No, they don’t make you ugly, they add to your character.”

Beel:

• This poor demon- he got to watch as his little sister died at the hands of these same arrows, now his older brother is meeting the same fate?

• Not on Beel’s watch.

• Tablecloths are being torn to shreds so he has enough material to pack and dress the wounds in makeshift bandages until they could get their brother properly treated.

• Afterwards, he blames himself every day for what happened even after Mammon comes home from the hospital.

• Thinks he should have been the one to get shot up by all those arrows.

• Always making some kind of meal for his brother- the quickest way to promote healing is to make sure one’s body is properly nourished after all.

Belphie:

• Didn’t see the initial incident because he skipped out 20 minutes before shit hit the fan to go take a fat nap. (Can you blame him though? The music was calming, the food filled him right up; it was only inevitable)

• When he wakes up, he initially doesn’t seem all that bothered because he’s good at hiding that shit

• But on the inside? Whoo boy, he’s sweating bullets. What if the worst comes to pass?

• “What do you mean the arrow heads were laced with Celestial Gold?? that shit’s lethal to demons.”

• Breathes the biggest mental sigh of relief once he finds out his brother’s gonna be okay.

• Crisis averted; he can go back to be the annoying baby brother now.

• Doesn’t draw too much attention to Mammon’s wounds- mostly so he can avoid thinking about the incident himself.

[emerxshiu]

Elfilis for valentines :3

did on y'all but im back, hopefully i'll post for a few more days before i dissapear again

anyways have a drawing of my wife

with text

i actually wanted to draw kirfluff but my need to draw elfilis took over and my hands and back hurt like hell so i didnt draw the rest of stuff i wanted. maybe i could draw it later or tomorrow but im posting this now before i fall asleep or something and dont post.

It was also an excuse to draw the redesign of my fecto gijinka i had made a few weeks ago so, yeah it was fun.

Tho i might make some adjustments to my gijinka if i see fit. also in this drawing he has some differences from the actual gijinka, mainly, the little hearts arent like that in my gijinka and the bangs here have been tied up because i wasnt feeling like drawing them since theyre really long. also the lashes, but here i kinda tried doing their eyes differently and then colored them so i might make my lis gijinka have his eyes like this or change them, im not sure.

tho the more i look at the drawing, the more dissatisfied i become, i mean i did it yesterday around night and stuff so i didnt really think that much about it, (it took around seven hours and i finished it at like 1 am, i definitly wasnt the most concious at that time) but i feel like something is missing i dunno

maybe its the coloring, i had to remake the shading a lot of times since i didnt know how to do it, my style is really inconsistent a lot of times, going from cell shading to soft shading to mixing them both and so on so forth with a lot more of that.

i do have a sketch with some half finished lineart i did of one of the ideas i had (i was originally going to do more pieces with more characters but i didnt go trough it cuz i knew i wouldnt be able to do it in time) but im too embarassed of it to post it

and even tho i complained, i still kinda like this drawing

(small edit i did)

next post is either one about a gijinka i have almost finished of an obscure kirby character i decided to adopt into an oc or a splatoon post following the fresh season 2024 and side order trailers, (fun fact side order releases just a few days before my birth day! im eating good with nintendo just like last year (last year was wave 1 of the dlc and return to dreamland deluxe))

Now im going to take a break after posting this on my other accounts and then later fight fecto elfilis (i do this almost every month sooo) and then grind my catlogue to get it to 100 before the next season starts

Jambuhbye!

(fuck i just remembered i wanted to talk about a silly headcanon i made for lis while drawing this but i forgot and i dont want to write more ahhhh)

[not-alien-girl-v]

first of all I want to say that you really write well❤

so can you please write some angst with cooper day?

warning: angst, self harm language

summary: you’re always harming yourself in one way or another, cooper wonders if there’s something going on behind all of this

“What’s up biatch,” you greeted lovingly at the door to his bedroom, which he had no idea you were at. He twitched in surprise.

“When did you get here?” He switched to sitting up at the side of his bed and moves his headphones off his head to rest around his neck.

“Like an hour ago. I found a stray cat outside and chatted for a while with it.” You set down on the table a hefty bag, containing multiples of things Cooper had no idea why you would require at his house, but that was just the way you were.

“You talked with a cat for an hour?”

Turning your head to look at him on his bed, you took notice of the fluffiness of his hair, the bags under his eyes, the leftover eyeliner in his waterlines. You approached him and took his hands into yours. “Well, it was a bit one sided, but we managed to come to a conclusion.”

He smiled up at you while you stood tall in front of him. “And what’s that?”

“I’m gonna pierce my nose today.” He frowned at this. Last week, you pierced your ear twice, and the week before that, you pierced your navel.

Things like this slowly but surely became a habit for you and he adored you, of course, how cool and fearless you were but he also cared about you and your well-being, and took notice of how you only ever turned to self destructive behaviors lately.

You drank a lot, smoked a lot, and of course, you were teenagers, but he couldn’t help but wonder if there was something else behind all of this.

“Are you sure, babe?” He tried to squeeze your hands in his grasp but you pulled away much too quickly to situate yourself with the piercing materials.

Needles, rubbing alcohol, and the stud you intended to stick in your nose once the deed was done. “Do you wanna help me with it?” You avoided his question, as you always did nowadays.

“Hey, listen to me-“

“I’m gonna put some music on, what are you feeling for today?”

“Stop!” He spoke stern and loud, hands pinning themselves to both your shoulders, effectively keeping you locked in place before him. “Listen to me, okay?”

You nodded, a little fearful due to his change in demeanor but ultimately knowing he meant well. you knew him, he would never mean you any harm.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” You giggled nervously.

“You’re always hurting yourself. It’s all you do anymore, and every time I bring it up, you just change the subject. I’m here for you, right now, tell me what’s been going on.”

Wow. Those were a lot of heavy words and maybe it was the weight of them all or the emotional exhaustion you had been experiencing, but you couldn’t help the pooling tears stinging your eyes. They rolled down your cheek one by one and you looked to the ground.

“Fuck, don’t cry, I’m sorry, please don’t cry,” he seemed almost as effected as you were, his voice on the verge of breaking and hands frantic yet gentle on your skin as he attempted to comfort you in some odd way.

He made the situation just a bit more uncomfortable than it already was, so you realized you’d have to take initiative to move things forward. “Come on,” you grabbed his hand and led him back to his bed where you sat. He perched himself in front of you and he didn’t let go of your hand but silently waited for you to say something.

“Things just, I don’t know, things have just been hard lately, I don’t know what to feel anymore. I tend to just not feel anything, or it’s everything all at once and I just- I don’t know what to do about to anymore. If I don’t act out, do things that draw attention, I feel invisible.”

You didn’t mind the way the tears slipped down your cheeks freely as you spoke anymore, they were past the point of pain but once you saw one fall from Cooper’s eye, you felt guilt for it.

“I’m so sorry honey. I’m sorry you feel that way, sorry that I didn’t reach out sooner, and I’m so sorry if I make you feel invisible. I promise, I don’t mean to, I really do care about you, and I love you so much, please believe me when I say that.”

You nodded your head for lack of better words and pulled him in for a tight hug. His hands rubbed loving circles onto your back and you rested your head on his shoulder.

He held you there for a good long while, and you took notice of how his open window on the second story allowed an excellent view of the suburban street below.

As you looked out, crossing the street and disappearing into a small grove of trees behind a house was an orange tabby cat, one with intelligent eyes that a person could speak to for hours. Just as it neared to exit your line of sight, it turned its head for one last gaze at you, before following into the shade of the trees.

“I love you too, Cooper.”

[marie-swriting]

Is Your Plan Working ? - Steve Harrington

Drabble Masterlist

Summary : Steve thinks he still can get a number from a random girl, you think he can't.

Warnings : sister!reader, reader is 14, set before season 3.

Word count : 706

French version on Tumblr

French version on Wattpad

Prompt : "Was I supposed to be impressed ?" 4th prompt from this list made by @exhuastedpigeon

“Hey dumbass !” You shout, making Steve turn around.

“What do you want, Y/N ?”

“You make me an ice cream ?”

“You literally insulted me at my workplace and you want me to give you an ice cream ?” He questions, outraged.

You roll your eyes before putting your innocent face on and stating with a small voice :  

“I apologise, my sweet brother. May I have an ice cream, please ?”

“Alright, I’m gonna do your ice cream, but only because I don’t wanna see your face anymore.” Steve gives up, annoyed.

“Love you, too.”

While Steve makes your order, you observe him, wanting to distract him. He started working at Scoops Ahoy three weeks ago so it’s still kind of hard for him. For you, it’s the perfect occasion to have free ice creams and mock your brother. Unfortunately, Steve does his work without a mistake today.

When he’s done, you take your cup and sit at a table near the counter. Steve rolls his eyes as he sees you’re still not leaving. You take your time to eat because you want to annoy him as much as you can. You’re taking another spoon of your ice cream with a fake-angelic expression on your face.

“Tell me Steve, is your plan working ? Did you get any numbers ?”

“Yes. Totally. Without a doubt.” He exclaims, trying to play it cool.

“Huh, technically, you got none.” Robin corrects him as she arrives at the counter.

“That’s false, I got one !”

“Yeah, zero and half. She didn’t give you the good one.”

When you hear this information, you can’t help but burst out laughing, imagining the scene in your head.

“I wish I could have seen that. I can’t believe after all these years being nicknamed ‘King Steve’, you’re struggling that much. I love it.” You state as you take another bite of your ice cream.

“It’s always nice to feel supported.” Steve says ironically. “But we’ll see who’s gonna be laughing in the end when I’ll have a girlfriend before the end of the holidays while you’ll still be hanging out with your little friends.”

“At least, they’re my age. Listen, we really like you Steve but you’re hurting our feelings when you hang with us.”

“Wait, the kids that come here almost everyday are your friends ?” Robin asks you and you nod. “I’m coming back in a sec.” She informs before getting a white board.

As you finish eating, you watch Robin taking a marker pen, drawing two categories where it’s written ‘YOU RULE’ and ‘YOU SUCK’. In that last one, she draws a stick before saying : 

“I feel like this column is gonna be full really soon.”

“Yeah, whatever. Keep mocking me, I’ll prove to you that my charms still work. I’m gonna do it right now, actually.” Steve affirms, showing you the new client. “Get ready to put a stick in that ‘YOU RULE’ column.” He says to Robin before smiling at the girl. “Welcome to Scoops Ahoy, can I offer you an ice cream ?”

“Hello, can I have lemon and strawberry, please.”

“Right away.”

Steve is fully focused on the making of the ice cream, making sure it’s done perfectly. Once he’s done, he gives the cup to the client. She’s about to pay when he stops her with a charming smile. 

“It’s free.”

“Really ?”

“Yes, my pleasure.”

“Thank you ! My boyfriend is gonna be happy.” She smiles while Steve’s face breaks down. “Have a nice day.”

You wait for the young woman to leave before laughing out loud with Robin. She holds her tummy before drawing another stick on the board. Steve tries to not let anything show, even though hurt can be seen in his eyes.

“Was I supposed to be impressed ?” You ask, calming your laugh. “Your face was beautiful, wish I could have taken a picture. Well, I’d like to keep mocking your lack of charm but I have to hang out with my friends.” You state before throwing your cup. “See you Robin.” You add before leaving and ignoring your brother. 

“You have to be home by six !” Steve orders you.

“If you get one number, maybe yes.”

“I love your sister.” Robin smiles, making Steve roll his eyes.

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