#this took so much longer than i expected and now its 3am

[readychilledwine]

Pieces of You pt 3

Summary - After losing Feyre to childbirth, Rhysand finds himself leaning on one of her friends much more than he'd ever expected.

Warnings - self doubt, slight manipulation, discussion of moving forward after the death of a spouse, hurt people hurting people, HOFAS spoilers *slightly* (a lot of us had this theory to begin with and I just played with it to fit this)

A/n - It can only be uphill from here, right?.. Special thank you to @honeybeefae and @thehighladywrites for helping me think through how quickly I should let reader and Rhys move on, and for convincing me that I should continue writing this. (Ps friends - sorry I can't tag you. I evidently hit the max tag amount with my taglists.)

✨️ Pieces of You Masterlist ✨️

The 3 month milestone had changed your and Morwenna's lives forever. Rhys had finally convinced you to move into one of his homes. He was insistently whispering to you over and over that the small cabin wasn't going to work anymore, that Cassian and Azriel barely fit inside it, that once his Little Mor and sweet Nyx began to move you four would need more space.

It had been also heartbreaking, entering the home Feyre had crafted, each room so individually thought of for who it was intended to belong to. Above all else, though, it had been lonely.

It wasn't your home. It wasn't the finely crafted wooden arches your mate had assembled by hand. It wasn't the rooms you had spent hours picking colors for. It wasn't cozy. That lack of security and warmth was why you were once again up at 3am. Despite the babies now sleeping for longer chunks of time, you never did. Regardless of if it was a night Rhysand spent at your side or one he spent tucked into the room he had shared with Feyre.

You leaned your head back against the exterior of the home, looking up at the glittering sky, and it finally happened.

3 months of mourning in silence. 3 months of screaming into your pillow. 3 months of stress, of anger, of overflowing love, 3 months of feeling like a shell of the female you were, of feeling as though your body was no longer yours, it crashed into you like a tidal wave. And it swept and destroyed everything in its path.

Rhysand shot awake in bed, feeling something was off. His chest ached, begging him to get up, to move, to search. He pulled on pants, glancing at Nyx and Morwenna sleeping peacefully, but you, once again, had not come to the room. He waited for the wraith to appear, feeling her just moments after he called. “Is it y/n,” Nuala nodded to the question, moving to admire the sleeping babes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing is wrong. She is mourning. That is her right.”

Rhys sighed, moving to your room without hesitation. He had hoped getting you out of that house would help. He had hoped the luxury he could offer you would have helped. He knocked on the door, listening for the broken come in that followed. “Why haven't you come to bed?” You were taken back by the question, taken back by him holding that perfectly tanned hand out. “Come to bed. Let me hold you until those sorrows melt away for the night.”

He knew you didn't feel it. That soft string that had made him scream, made him question all he knew about love and life. Part of him hoped you never did. Part of him hoped he would never have to explain to his family how it had taken him a miniscule 3 month period to fall in love with you and for a Mother given mating bond to snap. Part of him hoped he would never have to experience losing you, to add you to his list of things he would bury too deeply to properly mourn.

“I was unsure if I was wanted there.” That hand reached for yours, clasping it. He was so warm. Always so warm. You could bask in his warmth like he was the sun if given the chance. You shook the feeling mentally, though. “It is-”

“Our room,” he finished softly. “It is our room. Where our children are sleeping. Come to bed.”

Morning came much too soon for Rhysand. It had come much too soon for you as well. You took both of the babes, laughing as they spoke to each other in a language only they knew. They had begun taking more interest in each other, in toys, in the world. They were making life the greatest adventure, even if a lingering pain came from both of you seeing them smile so brightly.

It happened at the worst possible time. You were holding Nyx, forearm under his little tummy and letting “fly” as he worked so very hard to stretch his growing wings. Rhysand was watching you from the doorway, Morwenna on his hip as she looked up at him. Her thoughts were jumbled baby speak, all so happy. Nyx's were elated and fast. When you looked to the doorway, your wide smile fell as that string finished itself and settled deep into your chest.

Rhysand had never watched someone's mental walls fall as quickly as yours did. The silence in the room almost made the giggles of the two unknowing parties fade to background noise. “I was shocked too, darling. It's okay.”

Rhysand had dinner without you that night. He flew to the House of Wind with Nyx to eat with the Inner Circle. He wanted to give you time. He remembered the moment Azriel and Nesta came home, questioning their bonds after exploring those damned caves with the Quinlan girl and learning how the Cauldron had been corrupted. He knew you needed to process. He had too after all.

He took his seat trying to ignore the one that sat empty next to him. Everynight a plate was still sitting there. Even when you came, that chair sat empty, plate untouched. It was a screaming sign that the Inner Circle had not moved in. That they may never move on.

“It just makes the two mates theory make more sense,” Cassian and Amren were deep in a debate again. “If the Daglan, asteri, whatever the fuck we want to call them, did something to the Cauldron to ensure the mating bonds were taken over by it's creation for breeding purposes, then the existence of a Mother Blessed Bond must also be there.”

Amren sighed, ���So which do you two have then?” Nesta stiffened at the question. “A Mother Blessed Bond is meant to be true love. It's who we are technically meant to find as a soul mate. A Cauldron made Bond is evidently strictly for breeding. Which do you two share?”

The table hushed. It was a valid question and point. “To continue,” Amren took a drink from her glass before setting it down with a gentle click. “If we come out and tell other courts about this, how many other fae will begin to question their bonds? Kallias and Vivienne? Tamlin and Briar? Helion and Saraya? Lucien and Elain? How do we even begin to prove which bond is which? Does it mean they love that mate less? Rhysand would not have loved Feyre less regardless of the bond type. He will never remarry. Never move on.”

Azriel flicked his eyes to Rhysand. He knew about the bond Rhysand shared with you. He had given Rhysand his blessing to move on and pursue. He had asked his brother to find happiness again. He watched the words land on Rhysand's features, watched his eyes dull.

“If Rhysand did find a new mate,” Azriel spoke softly. “We would all support him moving forward with the bond.”

Nesta scoffed from next to Cassian. “Imagine being that poor female. Living in the shoes of Feyre Cursebreaker. No one could compare.”

But you did, didn't you? Rhysand's grip on his thigh tightened before relaxing. You were just as special, as kind, as loving. You were beautiful. Gods knew you were absolutely beautiful. You were selfless.

“I wouldn't want to try to sit in her place. I would reject the bond,” Mor sipped her wine, leaned back with one arm across her stomach.

Cassian and Azriel both looked to where Rhysand was dead silent. “I need to take Nyx home. He's getting hungry. I'll be right back.”

When Rhysand came back to the House of Wind without his son, he had no intentions of coming back to you that night. So, he never did.

3 awkward weeks passed between you and Rhysand. 3 absolutely strange weeks of either heated kisses and touches or nothing. Not even a good morning. You sighed as you laid Morwenna and Nyx down in the nursery before taking the few strides to Rhysand's office.

He was avoiding you, and it hurt. It hurt knowing your mate, this beautiful unasked for second chance was avoiding you. He was hunched over his desk, reading over some papers and signing a few. “Are we going to talk about why you are avoiding me?”

“I am not avoiding you. I am busy.”

“Yes, busy avoiding me.” You sat across from him, feeling so cold and informal. It was as if you were nothing more than his employee. “Our children are asleep. We should talk about this while we can. I deserve to know if I did something wrong.”

He didn't even look up at you as he replied. “You didn't do anything wrong. As I said, I am busy.” This wasn't the voice of the male who coaxed you to sleep. The one who whispered his dreams to you. “You can go.”

The dismissal made the bond go taunt, and when he felt the first wave of your confusion and hurt, he locked it down more. “Rhys-”

“I think we should sleep in separate rooms again. Our relationship has crossed some lines.”

You blinked at him. Stunned and almost dead silent. “I don't understand where this is coming from?”

“It's the truth. I am your High Lord. You are my subject.” It killed him to say it. His own heart was screaming to stop, but that first brick wall now stood, waiting for the other 3 sides. “We cannot continue blurring that line.”

“You're my mate,” your broken whisper almost made him stop, but he dug in.

“Something we will need to discuss at a later date and time. Surely there will be away for us to reject the bond without causing a downfall and hurting your ability to nanny Nyx.” A second wall stood in place of you and his heart. He knew it was a low blow, and he watched your brows knit and mouth slightly open.

“Rhysand.”

“High Lord,” he corrected.

“Why are you doing this?”

“The bedroom you were in previously is fine.”

“Why are you acting like this?”

“I am establishing a boundary, y/n.” He watched as you began to cry, holding in his own tears as he did. “Our relationship needs to remain appropriate.”

"Do you not want me? We are blessed with this second chance, and you are just turning your back on it. Please, is it me? I know I am not the beauty she was, I know I am not as special as she was. But I'd fight to make you happy, for our children-”

"Nyx isn't yours. Stop acting like he is.”

He watched as you crumbled inside of yourself, that last wall forming around his heart by destroying yours. He didn't mean a single word, but how else was he supposed to save you? All the Mother had ever done to Rhysand was take and take.

You recovered from the blow quickly, nodding as you aggressively wiped the tears from your face. "You have the weekend to find someone else to do what I am. Wen and I are leaving.”

"You can't just take her from me.”

"Yes I can," he knew what was coming, that new bond screaming for him to stop this all. "You aren't her father. Stop acting like it.”

You wanted to slam the door as you walked away before his act fell, before he gripped his chest and warded the room to sob. Little Mor had quickly become his everything. That dark hair, that button nose, those deep blue eyes. She looked like his sister, but you didn't know that when you threatened to take her away. Hadn't known why all three winged males so quickly became attached to her.

And now he was losing her. He was losing you. He was losing everything.

General Taglist:

@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanagers @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho @mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth @starswholistenanddreamsanswered @cumuluscranium @loneliestluvr @eternallyelvish @azrielsmate3 @daughterofthemoons-stuff @meritxellao @aria-chikage @hungryforbatboys @lilah-asteria

Pieces of You Taglist:

@dr4g0ngirl @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @blueeclipsepaperstudent @thisblogisaboutabook @mybestfriendmademe @novalovi @rachelnicolee @sleepylunarwolf @sidthedollface2 @acourtofbatboydreams @bunnyredgirl @fandomrejects @bookishbroadwaybish @littlestw01f @la-petite-lapin @juniperberriesaries @anuttellaa @luvmoo @mirandasidefics @soph1644 @hungryforbatboys @awkardnerd @bruxa0007 @eerievixen @youvereachedthenearest-lovergirl @ghostlyrose2 @amygdtjhddzvb @marvelouslovely-barnes @batii-skies @emma-andrea1 @buckystevelove @slut4acotar @cauldronboilmetakemetovelaris @throneofshadows @sevikas-whore @thebeautifulmysteriesoflife @why4anne @miadialila @12358 @blushingfawnsposts

✨️If you are not tagged but your name is listed, Tumblr will not allow me to tag you for some reason!✨️

[cozzzynook]

A silly but wholesome Shockop idea lol

Optimus gets a strange message on his Data pad at 3AM from Shockwave asking the Prime to meet up. Grouchy and a little confused Optimus sneaks out of the base and heads towards the location while keeping his guard up when he finally finds the meeting spot. Its a old abounded building which dose not calm the Prime's nerves before he enters the building, there he sees Shockwave standing near a dusty desk that has a fairly large box on it.

"Shockwave, you must have a fairly good reason to ask me to see you at such a hour" Optimus grumbles still sleepy.

"Of course I do Prime, However I wanted to see you much earlier but work in the lab took much longer than expected" The purple mech turns away before opening the box on the desk.

"What do you have there Wave?" Optimus tries to strain his neck to look over the purple mech's shoulder with little luck.

"I would like to introduce you to our new son" Shockwave answers flatly as he rummages through the box carefully still not looking at the Prime.

"Son?! Shockwave you know our only sons are Cliffjumper and Bumblebee what are you talking about-" Optimus suddenly stops speaking when he sees what Shockwave his holding.

The purple mech is carefully holding a small grey cyber cat kitten in his servo. The kitten is just purring away gazing up at the pair with wide amber optics. "Ravage had a litter a few weeks ago, the kittens are old enough to find new families and with Soundwave's permission I was able to obtain one." Shockwave quietly spoke as he turned to gaze at Optimus.

The Prime is just stunned he was called out so late because Shockwave wanted to introduce him to a kitten? Without saying anything Optimus carefully takes the kitten from Shockwave with a soft smile on his face. "Well, not how I thought I would end up with another bittie...but a pleasant surprise non the less" He chuckles as he carefully pets the kittens helm.

"So, you are pleased to accept him as our new son then?" Shockwave asked tilting his helm slightly. With a light chuckle Optimus leaned forwards placing a gentle kiss on shockwave's optic glass. "Of course, he needs a family now doesn't he?" Optimus answered with a soft smile while gazing lovingly at their new Bittie.

(ahh sorry if it's long! I tried to make it easy to read, Hope you enjoyed)

I hope you have a wonderful day anon this is amazing

[sleepyfaceandsnark]

I'll Be Seeing You

Summary: Tim's death breaks Hawk's heart in more ways than one. - From the news of Tim's death to Hawks fate years later.

AO3 LINK

"Oh, where oh where can my lover be? The Lord took him away from me

He's gone to heaven, so I got to be good

So I can see him when I leave this world."

It's early in the morning when Hawk gets the call. He almost slept through his phone ringing but managed to get out of bed and pick it up on its last ring. He knows what it is as soon as he lets out a hello and hears the heartbreaking silence on the other line. The caller says his name in a mix of grief and exhaustion. 

Though he's been expecting the day ever since he left Tim, for what would be the last time, he's still shocked when Marcus tells him.

Tim died earlier that morning at 3am. 

Hawk manages to hold back his tears temporarily as he tries to say something back.

"Was he-" Hawk starts. He can feel the tears fighting him. He clears his throat. "Was he alone?"

It's his first question and the only important one for him right now. He knows Tim didn't want him there to give them both peace but to die alone is so lonely Hawk can't bear the fact that Tim might've.

Marcus pauses. Hawk hopes it isn't to think of a lie for him. "No," Marcus hesitates. He clears his throat. "I had stepped out." The hesitation was Marcus' own guilt. "But Frankie didn't leave his side." 

Hawk feels a small smile grow on his face. He still wishes it was him despite Tim's wishes, but it comforts him Frankie was there. 

"He wasn't present much... Tim I mean. In the last few days. Sleeping a lot and when he was awake, he wasn't really-"

"Yeah." Hawk cuts him off. He knows Marcus is trying to make it easier in a way. Hawk didn't miss any quality last few days with Tim. Tim wasn't calling out to him wondering where he was or saying how unfair it all was in his last moments. He was just ...sleeping. He knows Marcus tells him this as a comfort, but Hawk doesn't want those details. He's sure Tim wanted him to remember him how he was, so that's what he'll do.

"Family is figuring out the funeral details, when I get notice do you want-

"Yes," Hawk's voice comes out choked up. He needs to get off the phone quickly. "Please." 

Marcus senses Hawks need to hang up or maybe it's his experience calling and receiving similar calls from too many friends with the same news that makes him understand. 

"I'll keep you updated," he says before he hangs up the phone. 

Hawk lets the phone fall from his hand. He catches the cord before it falls to the ground and quietly puts it back on the receiver. At first, he sits there and stares off into the space not knowing what to do, what to think, how to feel. He's not sure how long he sits on the edge of his bed before his heart and brain connects and he realizes exactly what he lost, what the world lost, with the death of Timothy David Laughlin. 

-

He sets enough time aside to go to the funeral though he has the freedom now to go wherever he wanted. He's alone now. He doesn't have Lucy asking where he's going or when he'll return. It's a freedom he never thought he'd get again but he got it back too late. There was no reason for him to escape with a sloppy excuse anymore and he no longer felt the desire. Even though he hadn't seen Tim in almost a decade the idea of him being out in the world made Hawk seek out men for a little bit of fun so he could pretend at least for a little while or bury the anguish of not being with Tim into another man. But now he felt nothing. Knowing Tim was gone everything just felt so joyless. Not even a quick hookup would satisfy that.

Though it was his own volition he never thought they would end up like this. Tim found his freedom that Hawk only dreamed of having but he never got to have the family Hawk has with kids and grandkids. Both lost out on a lot but mostly lost out on being with each other. If he was being honest, with his reckless behavior, Hawk always thought he'd be the first to go. But maybe this is one last thing he can do for Tim. He can be the one to suffer in this world without the other. 

At the funeral Hawk keeps to the back, allowing the ones he mentally deemed worthy enough to be closer to Tim. He notices Tim's sister with what he assumes is other members of Tim's family and ducks his head to not be noticed. He recognizes the back of Marcus' head with Frankie besides him but doesn't feel like he deserves to sit with them either, so he sticks to the back, kept like a dark secret of Tim's past. As he hears everyone give their speeches, how they knew Tim, how they loved Tim, he feels so much devastation for many different reasons. Devastation for Tim being gone, for this life they could've had, for the people he's left behind but also devastation of this disease. How many it's taken but how much people don't care because of who most of the victims are. Men who just wanted to love other men.

With this sadness though, as he hears everyone's story, he feels such an odd feeling of joy on how Tim touched their lives in one way or another (and how so many more he touched that unfortunately passed before him). He hears about the freedom Tim had, the things he stood up for, the love he shared. Hawk almost laughs when he thinks about the Tim he first met and telling him how he would grow up to be. Would the Tim of that time believe him?

The poet even gets up to say a few words and read a poem. Hawk isn't positive if it's the same one Tim dated. Tim could've just been acquainted with more than one. Hawk doesn't laugh this time. 

He finds Marcus after the service and he must've looked like hell because Marcus uttered no words, just pulled Hawk in for an embrace. Hawk didn't realize how much he was holding in until he relaxes in Marcus' arms. As he pulls away, he looks at Marcus, Frankie, and others who are strangers to him but who in a way took his place as a companion for Tim, platonic and otherwise. He shouldn't be jealous. He couldn't have Tim all to himself. How cruel would it have been to make him wait decades at a time for a night or two? 

Hawk declines the offer to meet back up at Marcus and Frankie's where they're having everyone back for finger foods. It'd be too painful to go back to one of the last places he saw Tim before the hospital. He also thinks it'd hurt too much to introduce himself as "how he knew Tim" to anyone that asked, and if his reputation got past Tim's sister the response probably wouldn't be the best anyways. He hates funerals. Everyone cries at the service then is supposed to act okay gathering together after. Hawk couldn't do it. So once again he flies home alone to an empty house where he gives himself the freedom to break down again in private.  

Years later Hawks heart finally gives out. He doesn't know what to narrow it down to. Could be the things he put in his body in the 70's or the thousands of cigarettes he smoked in his youth (to which he picked back up again in his older age). That paired with his father's history of heart disease it's not really a mystery why it no longer wanted to work like it should. 

Or maybe his heart was too broken. Not only from Tim's death but from all the wasted years they had, what they could've had. Even when Tim was still alive, he felt such a pain in his chest whenever he thought about it. After Tim's death it only felt worse. 

He knows he'll be missed when he goes. He's not quite suicidal as he once was to believe he wouldn't be, but he can’t stop thinking about how much of a relief it will be. After all the pain and heartbreak, he'll finally just be...gone. He'll leave this world to suffer no more. 

If Tim was right about God and the afterlife Hawk hopes to see him there. He hopes their souls can live together in the peace they never got on earth. Or maybe they'll be reborn and can start again. No one really knows, do they? That's what makes it all so terrifying but, in a way, at least to Hawk, thrilling. 

When he got the news about his health, he first told Kimberly. She had offered to tell her mother for him, but he decided he should be the one. He told Lucy privately at a small restaurant neither had been to sometime after the lunch rush but before the dinner one. She sighed almost as if she expected the news, maybe she had seen the decline on their past few visits. She reached for his hand and held it. "I'm sorry, Hawk." She said. Hawk just gave a small smile and nodded. They sat there in silence the rest of the time.

Kimberly doesn't want to tell the grandkids. She doesn't want them visiting with that knowledge that their grandpa is dying. Hawk thinks the kids are lied to enough with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny, but he supposes their mother will win the argument in the end. 

In his last days, Hawk swears he can see Tim. In his last moments he can even hear his voice, calling out to him in that soft comforting way he used to. Tim was always comforting Hawk even when Tim was dying. Now Hawk is here dying and somehow Tim is still easing his worry. As he hears Tim call out to him one last time and he feels a hand gently in his hair. He closes his eyes and takes a breath. He begs God that whatever sins he committed to please be forgiven so he can find the man he loves in the afterlife or in the next life, whichever is the way this whole death thing works.

If two souls can really live on an invisible string that forever connects them he knows in his heart he and Tim would be those.  He just hopes if there is a next life it treats them better and maybe that invisible string can be a little shorter. 

Hawk take one last breath in as a feeling of peace washes over him. He's gone in the next moment, only alive in his loved one's memories. 

"I'll be seeing you In all the old familiar places That this heart of mine embraces All day through

I'll be seeing you In every lovely summer's day In everything that's light and gay I'll always think of you that way

I'll find you in the morning sun And when the night is new I'll be looking at the moon But I'll be seeing you"

[valcuda]

- Picnic With Big Sis

Jasmin taking Quinton and Elizabeth out for a picnic. Like my previous work, this is a scene from a short story I have planned (I have 3 full books that come before it, and only 1 has a competed draft, so don't expect it any time soon), with this one taking place a bit prior to that one, with Jasmin taking Quin and Liz to the place they'll eventually cloud gaze at.

Also like that one, I made a 3D scene as a pose draft, with that picnic basket actually being a 3D model I made and rigged specifically for this! This gave a bit of difficulty, since Jasmin's Mannequin's hand, was blocking part of the basket that's visible in the final artwork!

When I was originally planning the scene, I thought about just having Jasmin doing nothing with her hand, until I decided to make her holding the lid open, so Quin and Liz could see. I didn't consider the fact I was now making the hand a focal point of the artwork! And when I did realize that, I nearly cried, cause I absolutely suck at drawing hands! But using a mashup of knowledge I've heard over the years, and some good guesses, I managed to make the best hand I think I've ever drawn!

And holly crap am I glad I decided to draw it! The sense of scale you get from seeing Quinton and Elizabeth that close to her hand, it really puts into perspective how small they are! I also think it's cute, having her holding the basket open for them, and it shows you a bit of a difference between Quinton and Elizabeth! Quinton trusts Jasmin, so he's fine just sticking his head out, trusting Jasmin won't accidentally smack his head with the lid. Elizabeth however, is a bit more cautious, not really trusting people as much as Quinton does, so she has her hand on the lid in case Jasmin lets go.

Something you'll probably notice is that Quinton and Elizabeth are seemingly frowning. They were smiling originally, but I thought giving them a mild frown makes them look more curious, which I thought was cuter, compared to them smiling. Though it kinda looks like they just realized Jasmin tricked them.

Anyways, I decided to not finish this in my painting style, since that was meant as more of a crutch originally. With v2 of Cloud Gazing, I said I was debating making it's line draft into it's own piece, just due to how good it looked, and that was kinda thanks to the "Painting Style" leaving out a ton of detail. So with this, I decided to finish it in my usual style. However, I did the shading differently, using a digital paintbrush, and doing it all on one layer. Usually, I plan out the shades, do them all on their own layers, combine them, and blend, which is really slow! This new method was a lot faster, and it worked wonders on Quinton and Elizabeth! It definitely has its flaws tho. I might end up revising this sometime down the line.

Something incredibly ironic, is that I have yet to shade Elizabeth's actual artwork! Meaning she got shaded in some misc artwork, before her actual artwork. Past me would be so dumbfounded if he knew.

Anyways, I don't know exactly how long I worked on this for, but I can definitely say it took longer than Cloud Gazing! I wanted so badly to finish this yesterday, that I stayed up til 3AM, doing the final linework, which is why it's a bit sloppy in some parts! This is despite me having post saying it wouldn't release that day, at 10 PM.

Hell, I wanted to release it so bad, I made 80% of this post last night, cause I was seriously considering uploading the non-shaded version! I'm so glad I didn't tho. It doesn't look bad unshaded, but the shading ties it together IMO.

-

Anyway, I don't know when my next artwork will be, or what it'll be about, since I'm a bit burnt out from this sudden art rush XD I pushed the limits of what I thought I could do, and while that is thanks to making a simple 3D as an initial draft, it still feels absolutely amazing! I definitely still need quite a bit of practice though.

Anyways, that's all for now!

[auroraayyye]

SKAM: An analysis

Part 1

This is not anything anyone has ever asked for, but I can’t sleep so here you go. A personal analysis of my likes, dislikes and favourite characters from every version of SKAM. Starting of with:

SKAM (The OG, Norwegian one)

Likes:

My own language and culture

A well written interesting teen show that tackled important problems you meet in life and brought out stories you didn’t see much of in media at the time.

The cast consisted of litteral teens. Tarjei who played Isak was a first year at the real school «Nissen».

The actors were so good. They all played such important roles, and you could tell they put a whole lot of personality into it.

I LOVED the format. SKAM has a lot of references to Henrik Ibsen (norwegian author), and he was known for writing plays in a style that in norwegian is called «Titteskap teater» (rough translation: a cupboard you can look into). The minimizes the distance between the audience and the action, creating much more debate around the plot. By giving us the clips online while they were happening «in real time» and giving the characters real SoMe accounts SKAM did exactly that. (Our teacher would seriously pause the class if any clips came out during).

I also liked how short the clips were. I don’t watch a lot of shows as I simply don’t have the time or attention span. But watching 2-10 minute clips and reading small text exchanges, thats something i could do!

None of the characters were «simple». They were all written and acted quite dynamic, deep and dimentional, and i loved that.

SKAM was brought up so goddamn much in our norwegian classes i swear. I did so many papers on it.

Unpopular opinion: i liked that it ended after 4 season. Ended on a high.

GREAT SOUNDTRACK

Dislikes:

SKAM is made in certain part of Oslo, which is the capital and biggest city of Norway. I don’t think it should’ve been changed, I just didn’t relate to a lot of the cultural youth references as I am from the north myself. And yes those enviroments are very different! So I just feel like letting the fandom know that that not all of norwegian is definitely like that.

They definitely could’ve done more with Sana’s season. I do not think that it was a bad season, i just think that there was too much focus on Noorhelm and girl drama which were topics that didn’t really need more focus.

Eva’s season just being overlooked in promos and in general. I get that it was the first season and the show gathered more attention around the second season but come on. Eva and her storyline is so important, the acting was so good and it laid a solid foundation for the rest of the show. I just feel like Eva’s character didn’t get the justice it deserved.

Favourite characters:

Vilde. Now my people let me tell you a little bit about Vilde. Vilde was the most important character in the entire show. She was the glue that brought together all the other characters. And she was so devoted to everthing she did: her friends, the bus, all the small gatherings. And i feel like everyone went to school with a person like this. Who was maybe teased and looked at like weird, but in hindsight you realise how much they really did for their community. In the last season we get a little peak into the life Vilde is living when she’s not at school and it’s absolutely heartbreaking. And again unpopular opinion but i liked that we never got a Vilde season, cus thats the reality of it. Most situations like these are hidden, and they are hidden so well. And not giving Vilde a season really enhances that. Vilde really just wanted to be good for the world and for the world to be a better place. And that scene from season 4 between Vilde, Chris and Magnus is honestly one of the most beautiful scenes of the entire show and both Vilde and Chris’ friendship and Vilde and Magnus’ relationship is so healthy and lovely. I love Vilde fight me.

Eskil. He is, without any doubt to ever excist about it, the funniest character on the show. He really gives me «Will and Grace»-vibes. But I also love that even though he is funny, he is not reduced to just funny lines. He is an example of how important one person can be to anothers life. He really did take care of the people around him, even though not everyone perceived his behaviour that way. He took care of Noora and brought her out of her shell. He took care of Isak and helped him come to terms with his sexuality and internalized homophobia. He took care of Linn and accepted her as she was while simultanously helping her be a part of their social community. He was also an very important counterpart to Isak’s character in season three. It gave out the message that there is definitely not one way to be gay. Although he wasn’t the best roomate, he was a good character.

Isak. My most favourite thing about his character is that i don’t 100% like him. It’s like having a friend that doesn’t agree with you on every single subject and i honestly feel like that enriches the relationship. And he is such a realistic norwegian boy, so many of my guy friends act similar to him. Guys and their feelings are very under-represented in the media, and i think as much as the third season is praised for its focus on lgbt+ and mental health, it should get some credit for putting guys and the way they face issues in the limelight. I love that he’s such a snake sometimes, because people do dumb, selfish shit no matter how much of a nice person you think they are. His friendship with Eva? Amazing. And also veey realistic. Sometimes friends grow a little apart before they come back together, and i think their friendship is a strong one. His friendship with Jonas? Amazing. That coming out scene at the bench says it all i need not write any further. His friendship with Sana? Amazing. Isak was such an important character in her season and she was so important in his. The talk they have at the bench in Sana’s season is such a nice scene. Also Tarjei, the actor who plays Isak, is one of norway’s finest. He’s so good, i’ve seen him in other things as well and he’s just astonishing. The «O Helga Natt» scene is good, but it wouldn’t be nearly as good without that amazing acting.

That concludes my personal analysis of OG SKAM that no one asked for, but if you wanna tag along make sure to look out for my next! And hopefully i will get to sleep now.

[acdeaky]

out of the blue (3am calls)

warning: mentions of nightmares, implications of PTSD, fluff

note: this is (technically) my other submission for @celestialbarnes’ 4k writing challenge! i chose the prompt ‘bed’ and dialogue 9 ‘“was it the nightmares again?” “no” “you suck at lying”’ congrats again, rachel! and enjoy 🤍

read my other submission here!

word count: 1.9k

“...sorry that i can’t come to the phone right now, but- james?” you picked up, hearing the shaking breaths of bucky’s down the line as he tries to self soothe himself.

“hey,” he sighed down the receiver; you could imagine his metal hand running through his shortened locks, too. “did i wake you?”

“no, no, i’m always awake at...three-fourteen in the morning.” you replied, a teasing tone to your voice as you rubbed your sleep-ridden eyes.

“i just needed to hear your voice,” to ground me, he wanted to say, “i’m sorry, it was selfish.”

“i don’t mind, i wanna talk to you.” you smiled, knowing in a minute or so you’d be leaving the confines of your apartment to walk across the hall to bucky’s.

the other side of the phone stayed quiet for a moment, the only thing being heard was the static of the line. you didn’t want to say anything, knowing bucky usually needed a minute or two to collect this thoughts before he asked you to come over.

his excuse was that he felt like a burden; your response was always the opposite. ever since you had met him, something you always reminded him was that you were there for him, knowing what he had been through. although he was hesitant, the majority of the time you were by his side in the early hours of the morning.

“can you come over? just for a little while?” bucky’s voice was small, quiet, as always when he asked those four words. both of you knew that you’d be there much longer than ‘a little while’, but you didn’t mind when you forever replied,

“of course.”

it wasn’t long before you pulled a hoodie over your head, slipping on some socks before making your way to your front door. you grabbed your keys and opened your door, turning and twisting the lock as quickly as you could.

the hallway seemed darker than usual that night, the chill of the wooden floorboards seeping through your socks and hitting the pads of your feet as you crossed over to bucky’s apartment door. you knocked, waiting for the answer which came only a second or two later.

“i’m sorry.” was the first and only words he spoke as the door swung open.

“it’s okay.” you replied as bucky stood to the side, allowing you to step through the door before he closed it behind you.

the bareness of his apartment always worried you; it felt as if there was little progress happening, but it was. slowly but surely, and bucky knew this, he was just waiting for the right moment to ask you to go shopping with him. help pick out a new sofa, one you found comfortable. maybe even a coffee table, or a dining table so you had a proper place to sit while you ate your various take-outs every week.

it wasn’t like you didn’t see each other enough for him to ask, but he was hesitant; worried you’d say no, that he’d miss judged your friendship, your relationship even, that you were only a source of comfort on nights like this and not a friend who helped make a house a home.

even after that time you’d been with him whilst buying new bed sheets. his mind kept telling him right place, right time, that you didn’t actually want to do that with him, but you’d felt obliged to when running into each other in the store.

he was wrong, of course. your friendship meant the world to the both of you and you adored bucky, but he needed time and so did you. so, your friendship was just that: friends who saw each other the majority of the time, who found any free moment to spend together and who slept next to each other on nights like these...

bucky locked the door behind you before grabbing himself a quick drink, watching your figure as you stepped into the side of the living room and hovered over the blanket and pillow on the floor.

like usual, you said nothing, only following the same route into his bedroom while bucky left his now empty glass in the sink. just as he turned the corner, you were pulling the covers back, pulling off your hoodie and sliding under the sheets.

he watched for a minute, waiting for you to find a comfortable spot with the sheets pulled tightly around your body.

his mattress was cold, still hard, yet comfortable, from when he first bought it. the sheets were soft, too, your choice - of course - colours which you had said complemented his eyes; it was more difficult hiding the blush on his face than you hiding the price tag. he bought them anyway, knowing that you wanted the best for him and hoping that you’d put them to use some time.

and use them you had. there had been many nights since that day which you had spent in his bed, curled up against him as you feel asleep and bucky attempted to. you were the only reason the sheets got washed often; other than you and him on nights like these, nobody else used them.

it wasn’t long before he moved from his place by the door, following your early actions and joining you under the covers. ever the gentleman, bucky stayed on his side while you stayed on yours, him on his back with you on your side facing him.

it took for you to move closer to him, pressing your body into his for either of you to begin feeling any comfort.

the warmth of bucky’s body was a pleasant contrast to the mattress, both of you slowly warming up the longer you were huddled together. truly, you hadn’t meant to lay like this, but after climbing under the sheets next to him for the first time, bucky pulled you into his side and wrapped his arms around you. as if on instinct, your head laid on his bare chest, a hand resting in the middle of his torso as you shifted onto your side.

there were some delicate whispers from the two of you before you drifted to sleep. your kind words soothed bucky’s mind as he allowed himself to relax and settle back into the pillows; a luxury he rarely let himself have. his allowed you to feel them reverberate in his chest, his low hums acting as a settler for your thoughts.

both of you were asleep moments later.

-

“was it the nightmares again?” you asked the following night, your back against the headboard of your bed, the bright moonlight shining through the thin curtains you’d forgotten to pull across the window earlier.

“no”

“you suck at lying.” a light giggle came from you, followed by bucky’s unpleased sigh. you were right; he knew it and so did you, but you wanted him to admit it.

“i really don’t.” you scoffed lightly at those words, knowing that he didn’t even believe his own words.

“james barnes, how have you not yet learned that you cannot lie to me? i know you.” like always, there was a teasing tone to your voice, trying your best to cheer him up over the phone, especially when you could just tell that the nightmares were bad tonight.

for a moment, the other side of the phone feel silent, except for some light rustling of covers. you knew he was laid on the floor, blanket on top of and under him. regardless of how many times the two of you had tried, bucky could never find comfort inbetween his sheets unless you were there by his side.

“buck? you still there?” you hadn’t meant for your voice to go so quiet, but you really didn’t want to stop talking to him; you never wanted to stop talking to him.

“yeh, yeh i’m still here-” his sentence was almost cut off by three rough knocks at your door, making you body stiffen.

“hold that thought, buck.” you replied, moving slowly off of your bed and towards your slightly open bedroom door.

“doll, its okay,” he spoke softly, noticing the slight quiver to your voice. “its only me”

“could you not have told me that?” you laughed, speeding up to open the door as to not let him stand in the hallway for much longer.

“hey.” he smiled as the door opened, dropping his phone from his ear before ending the call.

“hey.” you mirrored his smile, doing the same while moving to the side to allow him in. as you shut and locked the door, bucky went through his usual routine every time he stepped into your apartment this late at night. his keys were dropped into the bowl on top of the cabinet by your front door, then he grabbed a drink fro your kitchen that was adjacent to your entryway, and then he met you in the doorway of your bedroom, your arms open and waiting for him.

he gladly accepted the contact, always relying on you to ground him when it felt like he’d been floating for too long. and tonight he had been.

both of you used the minimal light from the moon to figure out your way to your bed, his right hand never letting go of yours until he finally had to. the covers were pulled back from where you had left them moments ago, the sheets now cold.

the two of you laid in your bed moment later, bucky being the first to be settled on his back as you began to be pressed against his side, your head on his chest. along with the curtains, earlier you had left a small window open, allowing the noise of brooklyn at night to seep through to your room. neither of you would be falling asleep anytime soon.

“i love you, buck.” your whispered confession making its way to bucky just before he closed his eyes.

“love you, too.” he replied, not allowing the true meaning of his words to be heard.

“no, bucky,” you sat up, leaning your weight onto your right elbow as your left hand reached out for his cheek. “i love you, okay? i love you.”

there was no words for him. he truly hadn’t expected the weight of your confession and it has shocked him beyond words. all he could think to say was,

“i love you, too, doll.” his shy smile made an appearance, reminding you of the first time you saw each other. with that, you leaned forward, placing a delicate kiss onto his lips, the corner of his mouth and on his cheek.

bucky’s smile never faltered, only growing wider the longer you planted kisses upon his skin.

after leaving a lingering one on his jaw, you moved back to face him, resting your forehead onto his. “goodnight, baby.” you whispered, pressing one last kiss on to his lips.

“goodnight, doll.” bucky repeated your actions, leaving the both of you in a fit of smiles.

and, just like earlier, you laid on your side, your head resting above bucky’s heart with his vibranium arm around your shoulders. the two of you were asleep a few moments later, the steady beat of his heart bringing about a peace which you always felt around him.

-

taglist (for people who i think might enjoy this): @forever-rogue @buvky @buckys-darling @barnessupremacy @wallflowerbarnes @bvckysmoon @gryffindorwriter @lokiscollar @propertyofpoeandbucky @buckys-bug @aerynwrites

bucky taglist: @marvel-rhapsody @bloomingbucky

[stranger-nightmare]

(tw: rape, depressive thoughts, pretty much everything bad)

hi, im reading "i’ll make it up to you" rn and, please dont get me wrong here, i love your writing.

but it’s breaking me to think that after what happened in the upside down, people would think that a month to recover is enough or 'a long time'.

i didnt experience what eddie experienced, but i know the feeling of your body being violated, i know the feeling of not recognising myself when i look in the mirror. i dont wanna say being raped is the same as almost dying, it’s just the way that you write eddie is very similar to how i felt when it happened to me.

i have no right to assume that was your intention and that’s not what im trying to do here. what i want to do is talk about the one month thing.

after my (back then) boyfriend raped me, it took me two weeks to realise what even happened. it took me two days to find the courage to break up with him. after that, it took me two months before i could tell anyone what had happened, my closest friends and my therapist.

it has been almost two years now and i still struggle to even say what happened, let alone fully talk about it.

one month is nothing, it’s no time.

im saying this because i need people to know that for people who’ve undergone such trauma, the one month… its just nothing. and for a lot of people, it takes a whole lot longer.

i need you to know, that if you ever interact with someone who’s had something traumatising like this happened to them, please be patient. i needed everything to be the same as it was, i needed a normal life around me.

the one thing that would’ve broken me for sure would be if people had expectations at this point.

in your eddie fic, the reader expects him to come back but gives up after a month. a month is hardly enough time for the physical scars to heal, let alone the mental ones.

i dont wanna come off as condescending and i know, i’ll most likely fail. but i say this because i love this fandom, i love the community and i love the people.

trauma takes time, a lot more time than a month. please consider the message you’re sending with your writing and how it affects those that may have experienced something similar.

it’s 3am and I’m supposed to be sleeping but I saw this and just felt like I needed to respond asap

firstly I’m so sorry this happened to you, I cannot imagine that kind of pain and trauma

secondly it was not my intention to say that a month is by any means long enough to deal with any kind of trauma, the issue of the fic was supposed to be the fact that Eddie completely pulled away from the reader for a whole month and she was left feeling useless as to what to do about it

the reader, or me as the writer, was never expecting Eddie to have recovered from his truama from one short month, the issue was the reader couldn’t take him pulling away from her for that long and she just wanted to know what more she could do to help

I’m also not really trying to send any kind of message with my fanfiction bc it’s literally fanfiction, I appreciate you don’t mean to sound condescending but that is unfortunately how it’s come across and I have to, as respectfully as possible, defend myself and my work bc it’s not my intention to make anyone feels uncomfortable with my work

like I’m sorry if the fic came across the wrong way and you’ve read it like that but again the emphasis was supposed to be on the crack caused in their relationship by his trauma and not that he needed to like hurry up and deal with it or whatever, reader was never expecting him to fully come back after a month but they couldn’t keep going on as they were, they ar least needed to have some kind of discussion of what was going on, even if it was just for him to say that he needed more time but appreciated her being there or whatever, but that’s just not the direction I took with the story

I’ve been through and am still currently going through traumatic situations in my life, perhaps not directly comparable to this, but I still completely understand first hand how long it can take to heal from certain things but I also appreciate that everyone heals at different speeds too so

yeah I don’t really know what else to say, it is absolutely never my intention to upset or offend anyone with my fics, which again are literally just fanfiction, so yeah idk I’m sorry if you felt upset or triggered by it, I do apologise, but that’s not how I meant it to come across

- hope

[starlessea]

𝙎𝙩𝙚𝙥 𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙂𝙖𝙨 - Prologue 0. Closing Time

Series Masterlist: Step on the Gas

Summary: A dishonourable discharge from the military results in you being hauled off to live with your grandparents in the boonies, otherwise known as the middle of nowhere Georgia. After running over a nail on the road, and pushing your grandpa's vintage Camaro to the nearest auto-shop, you meet Daryl Dixon - the local mechanic. At some point, the world ends, but that stubborn man never gives you a chance to slow down. His smile gives you whiplash, but he still insists that you to step on the gas.

Words: 6286

Chapter Warnings: Language, Injury

The sky was empty — save for one bird.

Daryl watched it fly above him, so close to the ground that he could make out the beating of its wings and swore he saw individual feathers flutter in the breeze.

His fingers itched over his crossbow, as he contemplated shooting it down from the sky and plucking it clean. He'd have something to eat then, at least. Though, for some reason, Daryl Dixon couldn't bring himself to let loose his arrow, watching as the bird soared overhead — and disappeared beyond the trees.

The man sighed as he kicked up some loose stones with the toe of his boot. What a waste, he thought, before trudging through the field once again.

The sky remained cloudless for the rest of the day, existing as a pale, washed-out grey that made Daryl feel uncomfortable as he hunted. The game must have felt the same, since the deer he'd been tracking made itself scarce, and the string of squirrels hanging from his belt seemed no heavier than it had done when the sun rose that morning.

Still, he trekked onwards over the thick, winding grass and through damp forest overgrowth. He was nearly back at the quarry already, but he hardly had anything to show for it. A few measly rodents and a sprained ankle were barely worth his trip in the first place; they sure as hell wouldn't be enough for all of the mouths he now had to feed.

Daryl cursed at himself for hesitating to shoot that bird straight out of the sky, and clip its wings. It wasn't much, but maybe it would have lasted a day if he was lucky. Still, there was no use wondering now, since it had swooped so close to him that he almost felt the downward draft on his cheek — and then he let it fly away.

He thought that it had been a jaeger; it definitely looked like a seabird that had veered too far from the shore. It was a gull with a white breast and dark, blackish feathers — and a wingspan that made sure you couldn't miss it.

He remembered you pointing one out to him, at 3am, parked up on that deserted beach as the two of you stared out into the rocking ocean.

"Ya thinkin' 'bout 'er again, baby brother?"

Daryl could hear Merle's voice taunt, in the deepest, darkest corners of his thoughts.

"Tha' lil' birdie of yours?"

He quickly shook his head — even though it was the truth.

It had been Daryl's own mind that conjured up those words, after all. Merle wasn't actually here. He was probably back at the campsite, lazing about and leering after women far too good for a beaten-up redneck like him.

Though, funnily enough, Merle had said the exact same thing to Daryl when he noticed his gaze settling over the new bar server, who swiped away the froth spilling over from their draught beers. Merle had given him even more of an earful when he realised that his younger brother was waiting for her shift to end.

Daryl took a deep breath, before rolling his neck to try and relieve the tension that had built up there. Once his mind drifted into thoughts of you — even if only for a split second — it often sank to the point of no return.

You were all consuming; you had been from the first time he laid eyes on you in that old, country auto-repair shop.

He remembered the way your voice chirped like a bird's, despite the curses that often fell from your lips.

You even made those sound sweet.

And he could also recall the way you yelled over the rumble of his bike engine, and competed with the screeching that came from his tyres losing their grip on the worn-out tarmac.

You'd told him that it felt like you were flying — and that was probably the reason why Daryl Dixon couldn't shoot that jaeger.

Then, the man heard something louder than he had done since the world ended — and suddenly, the sky was no longer empty.

There was an explosion, and that dull greyness was set alight with brilliant hues of red and orange. It made fire start to rain down upon Daryl, who could only stand and watch below. Debris fell out of the sky like a meteor shower, landing beyond the trees in the distance — to a place that Daryl couldn't quite make out, no matter how much he squinted.

The air became full with the sounds of scraping metal and flickering flames that caught the leaves and made them burn up like the end of a cigarette. Daryl felt his heart race as the adrenaline pumped its way through his veins, and made him flinch each time something crashed heavily to the ground.

There was often a moment in a person's life where their brain got kick-started into gear — and they awoke from whatever auto-pilot they'd been functioning on until that point.

For most, it was probably a mundane milestone like marriage or parenthood.

For others, it might have been a life or death situation that made them re-evaluate their perspective.

For some, it had only happened when the world actually ended, and the apocalypse began.

And perhaps, if Daryl had been a smarter man, it would have been this instant — as he gazed up at the sky and watched it burn above him. Maybe this was his second life-changing realisation; maybe he was lucky enough to get two.

But, for Daryl, the first had just been a regular Tuesday.

The garage was sticky hot that day. It was the kind of heat that made you sweat no matter how many fans you had blowing — since Old man Dean was too cheap to install air conditioning. His boss was a bit of a stickler for paying his bills, and nit picky with his nickles, but he'd always been kind to Daryl.

That being said, working as a mechanic wasn't exactly where Daryl had pictured himself at his age; but then again, he couldn't really picture himself anywhere at all. He felt like that last piece of the jigsaw puzzle, which didn't quite fit in with the others — the one that you had to bend into shape just to make it work.

Sure, he enjoyed seeing the different bikes roll in and out of the shop — those models he would never be able to afford — and Daryl appreciated having a few extra dollars in his pocket for when Merle raided his savings to score some pot.

Besides, there wasn't much else to do in the boonies. Daryl's old man once told him that the only interesting thing to rear its ugly head out of Georgia's backyard in the last fifty years was Dean's Auto Shop. That's probably why Daryl started working there in the first place, as a summer job when he was teenager — and had never really left since.

As much as he didn't want to admit it, his old man had been right about one thing — despite the bastard never catching on to the role of father. He'd been right about the shop being the only interesting thing around.

Because it was the place where he met her.

And then she became the only thing in that small town even worth being interested in.

Daryl didn't hear a car pull up into the shop, but he heard the mumbling outside from where he sat in the breakroom — chewing on some of Dean's leftover pizza that was bordering on stale.

"Dixon, get your ass out here for a second, would you?" the old man yelled, banging on the thin wall that separated them with his fist.

Daryl cursed below his breath, throwing the rest of his food into the trash and dusting off his hands over his jeans. He stepped out into the shop, and was met by an unfamiliar face — looking over at him curiously.

He suddenly felt unexplainably nervous, and dropped his head down to his feet as though it were a reflex he didn't know he had.

"This is your guy," he heard Dean say, before letting out one of his usual chesty coughs.

The man smoked a pack a day too much — and that was coming from Daryl.

"Owner of that bike you've been eyeing, too," he went on.

That caught Daryl's attention, and he instantly glanced up at the woman in question. She was breath-taking, but she also looked very much out of breath. She seemed as though she had run here, despite the Georgia heat.

"You ride?" he asked, but his gruff voice made it sound like more of a demand.

He grimaced at his own tone, but the woman didn't seem bothered by it in the slightest.

She laughed, and it sounded like nothing he'd ever heard before. "I wish," she said, running her palm along the polished metal and tracing her finger over that shiny logo.

Usually, Daryl would bark at anyone who touched his bike, and Dean seemed as though he expected him to do just that — from the way he raised an eyebrow at the daring woman, too oblivious for her own good.

Except, Daryl stayed quiet.

"Was never allowed within a mile radius of one," she went on, before turning back around to grin at Daryl like it was easy. "My folks were scared I'd take off into the sunset, never to be seen again."

He could relate to that. After all, it was exactly what he and Merle had done as soon as they'd gotten the chance.

"Mhm," he hummed back, before glancing over at the car parked in the middle of the shop. "She's pretty."

It was a steel blue colour — would definitely benefit from a lick of paint, but still pretty nonetheless. The tread looked good on the tyres, and Daryl couldn't see any signs of the rusting those models were prone to. Someone had taken good care of it.

"Excuse me?" the woman asked, and suddenly Daryl was reminded of just how bad he was with words.

He cleared his throat, and ran his hand over the hood.

"Yer car," he explained, "'69 Chevy Camaro?"

Daryl asked, but he already knew the answer.

"Oh yeah, that," she replied, sending him an apologetic look. "It's my grandpa's, so we're going to have to be real discreet about this situation over here."

Daryl raised an eyebrow as she beckoned him to the other side of the car, crouching down near the wheel arch.

"Some bastard left a nail in the road, and I ran straight through the thing like it was a stop sign," she grumbled, pointing out the puncture.

Daryl almost laughed at that — but he was still much too jaded from being caught in the middle of his break.

The woman stood back up and toed the deflated tyre with her boot, scowling at the sight of it.

"I know you're closing soon, but I had to push it half a mile just to get here," she said, and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Suddenly, her appearance made sense. Since he'd first laid eyes on her, all she'd done was tug at the collar of her vest, and try to stand in front of one of those poor excuses for a fan. But even then, Daryl couldn't quite believe her story.

"Ain't no way ya pushed that thing 'ere by yerself." The words left his mouth before he could consider them twice.

And the look she shot Daryl in return made him want to take them straight back.

But then, she smiled.

"I'm stronger than I look," she protested, leaning against the hot car. "You can ask the dozen assholes who catcalled me on the way but never offered their help."

This time, Daryl did let out a chuckle.

"Damn lucky y'ain't pass out," he quipped back, "heat's no joke."

She grinned again, and Daryl wondered whether she had an endless supply — or if she'd saved them just for him.

"Tell me about it," the woman teased. "Never liked visiting Georgia because of it."

Then, it all made sense to Daryl — the reason why she intrigued him so much.

"Y'ain't from 'round here, are ya?" he asked, surprising himself.

Usually, he couldn't give a 'rat's ass', as Dean called it, about anyone who stumbled into their shop. Never did they get more than a half-hearted greeting from Daryl, or a grunt as he told them to mind their head on that low door frame (she didn't have that problem). Though today, he seemed oddly talkative.

"Haven't seen ya before," he added.

The woman folded her arms over her chest.

"Would you recognise me if you had?" she asked.

"E'erybody knows e'erybody in this place," he answered. "I'd remember if I saw ya cross the street."

It was partially the truth. Daryl knew most people — but he only bothered to remember a select few.

"Moved here last week," she caved, proving him right. "I'm keeping my grandparents company watching daytime cable and doing grocery runs."

Daryl smirked. "An' runnin' over nails with their car, apparently."

"That, too," she confessed.

It was silent for a few seconds, and Daryl realised that he should probably give her a quote for the job. Though, she interrupted him before he could.

"Listen, your new neighbour would be really grateful if you could cut her a break," she said, eyeing the Camaro like she was considering whether it was even worth the hassle. "The old man's going to kill me if I come home on foot tonight."

Daryl knew what she was asking. The notice in the shop window made it clear that they'd be closing in half an hour; Daryl had been all but ready to flip the sign himself. Before she'd arrived, he'd even dared to think that he could shut early — and possibly get to crack open a cold beer and enjoy the breeze of his porch.

He sighed.

"I'll see what I can do," Daryl mumbled, "but I ain't makin' no promises," he warned — as he caught the way her eyes lit up at his words.

But that was a lie. Daryl knew he wouldn't let himself go home until it was finished.

The woman was utterly gleeful. He watched her smile much too widely for her face, and for a moment Daryl thought that she might even jump at him. But she seemed to catch herself at the last second, and abruptly stopped.

She didn't falter long, though. "Thank you, thank you so much!" she said, excitedly, before pausing to tap at her jean pockets. "I don't have any cash on me for a deposit, but I'm heading to work now."

She looked sheepish as she explained herself.

"I'll come straight back and pay in full," she added, trying her best to convince him.

Daryl narrowed his eyes like he didn't quite understand. Then he did, and he laughed properly.

"Deposit?" he asked, shaking his head. "City girl, here we jus' keep yer vehicle if ya can't pay."

The woman's expression was priceless. She looked as though she couldn't figure out whether he was joking or not, and stared at Daryl with her mouth slightly agape as she debated which it was.

He couldn't watch any longer.

"Where ya workin'?" he asked.

Then, he cursed himself for doing so. Time was ticking on, and he already had to stay overtime because of his inability to say no. Well, usually he had no problem with the word; it just seemed like it was stuck in his throat today.

"Joe's bar," she replied. "It's a few blocks over and-"

"I know Joe's bar," Daryl interrupted.

Everybody knew Joe's. It was the only place around that sold a decent draught beer. He'd been going there since he was a teenager — younger than he should have been, but old enough to know better.

"Me an' my brother go there a lot, but I ain't seen you 'round."

She nodded.

"Only started a few days ago. Hopefully they don't fire me for being late."

Daryl glanced at the clock. It was approaching his closing time and her opening one.

"Ya better get runnin', Camaro," he noted, tapping at his watch that didn't even work. "Rush hour soon."

The woman narrowed her eyes at the nickname. Daryl didn't know her real one yet, and felt like it was too late to ask for it. He'd have to catch a glimpse of Dean's log book later to find out.

"Will do," she replied with a smile. "Thanks again, Dixon."

Though Daryl couldn't quite work out how she knew his name, either.

He watched her scurry about collecting her things, and walked her to the entrance. The sun was starting to set — leaving the sky a pinkish orange that only made him squint the more he looked at it. He held the door open for the woman, and heard Dean snort from the back of the shop. But the way she thanked him made it worth the teasing.

"Take care of that sixties Honda," she winked, "she's a real beauty."

Daryl was surprised that she knew the model of his bike, considering she'd never even ridden one.

"If only ya knew," he mumbled back as he saw her off. "Will take ya for a ride one time if yer willin'."

She stopped in place. Daryl didn't know why he said that. It had just slipped from his mouth like oil from a can.

The woman laughed and rolled her eyes like she didn't believe him.

"That's what they all say."

Then, she started to jog down the street — just like she said she would — and Daryl thought her crazy for even attempting it in this midsummer Georgia weather. That woman had entered the shop like a whirlwind, and when she left Daryl couldn't remember what he'd even been doing before.

Dean cleared his throat and threw a rag at him that he barely managed to catch.

"Keep it in your pants, boy."

Daryl scowled at the man; he knew him better than that. So, he didn't give him the satisfaction of a reply, and instead got started on setting the Camaro up on a jack.

"She's a beauty, I get it," Dean went on, despite his silence. "Her type don't belong in a place like this, that's for damn sure."

Daryl had to agree with him there. He'd gotten a glimpse of his reflection in the wing mirror of her car and grimaced. He had grease on his face, and part of him cursed Dean for not telling him before he'd left the breakroom.

"But you know Mike and Doreen?" the old man asked, and Daryl nodded. "That's their granddaughter."

Daryl furrowed his brow — not realising he'd done it until he caught himself in the glass once again. Mike was a hard man, the type to straighten out any kinks in a person with brute force and that baby boomer spite.

"She may be real pretty, kid, but that one's trouble," Dean noted, confirming his suspicions.

He ignored the way he called him 'kid'. The old man still hadn't grown out of the habit — despite Daryl being well beyond his teenage years now.

"Trouble?" he repeated, like he couldn't quite comprehend the word being associated with someone like that.

Dean chuckled — but it turned into one of those coughs that made Daryl wince.

"Maybe more so than you," he said. "Got kicked out of the military, I heard."

Daryl spat at the floor, and Dean laughed again. They both hated those military dogs who often paraded through their town, looking at them as though they were trash beneath their government-issued boots.

But, if she'd been kicked out then maybe they could find some common ground.

Old man Dean wagged his finger at him, recognising Daryl's no-good expression; he'd become familiar with it by now, from all the times he'd worn it throughout the years.

"So don't go losing your head over her, Dixon," he cautioned, pretending not to know how good Daryl was at throwing caution to the wind.

"And remember to close up before you leave."

But it was too late.

Daryl had already lost his head, and his heart — but he wouldn't know that the latter was missing for a very long time.

You ran the cloth along the oak bar surface, wiping away any sticky beer rings that had been left there.

This is why we have coasters, you sighed.

It had been a slow Tuesday night, but you'd somehow still been roped into working the close. You tried to tell your boss that you were having car troubles, and had plans to stop by the garage on your way home — but he seemed to prioritise his own date over yours.

Well, you wouldn't exactly call giving the local mechanic his cheque a date; usually, you didn't have to pay for those. But you couldn't deny how it had made you feel when he smiled that smile your way — so small that you'd almost missed it — before you took off running out the door.

It gave you whiplash.

Perhaps he was just being friendly. But, then again, he didn't seem like the naturally friendly type. You shook your head, throwing the beer-soaked rag into the sink. You didn't trust that man in the slightest.

That wasn't a new development, really; you didn't trust most men. And, you often found that the ones who made your heart race like that were the worst of them all. He was trouble, that one, and you'd had enough of that to last a lifetime.

You untied the double knot of your apron, and folded it up neatly. There were a few whiskey stains on it — you'd caught a whiff of that top-shelf scent a few times now — but you were already too late to even consider putting it in the wash. Instead, you left it at the end of the bar, and swapped it out for the ring of keys lying there.

It was closing time, and you prepared yourself to run three blocks in the dark. You stepped out into the night, feeling the cool breeze on your cheek as opposed to the midday heat that had been there when your shift started. You flipped the latch and turned the key in the lock until you heard it click.

Then, you held them between your knuckles so that the jagged edge poked out.

"Ya done for the night?" a voice came from the shadows, and your heart dropped.

That brief second lasted a lifetime as the blood rushed to your ears like a strong current through running water, and your grip tightened over those keys. But then, you noticed the reflection in the glass panels of the door — and relaxed.

"Jesus, you scared the shit out of me," you scolded the man, "thought you were a dejected patron tryna jump me or something."

Perhaps he was; you still didn't know any better.

Dixon was leaning against that dingy brick wall, opposite the back door of Joe's Bar. You didn't even know what that other building was — but some sketchy figures usually loomed about it, so you tried to stay clear.

Maybe he didn't get the memo, you thought.

"Tha' happen before?" the man asked back, casually.

Though, the dim street lights overhead illuminated his face, and you caught a glimpse of his serious expression before he let it drop. He held a lit cigarette between his fingers — almost smoked down to the butt already — and it made you wonder just how long he'd been waiting for you.

"Maybe once or twice," you laughed, but it didn't sound as natural as you had intended.

You noticed the man's eyes flicker down towards the keys held between your knuckles, and you quickly slipped them into your jean pocket — hoping that he wouldn't pry. Luckily, he didn't seem like the type to unnecessarily butt into other people's business.

The smoke trailed from his lips and caught the stark light of the street lamp. He almost looked cold — bathed in that bluish tint which made those cigarette fumes seem nearly luminescent.

"You here to make sure I don't run off with your paycheck?" you teased, fishing out the wad of bills from your back pocket.

You waved them at him, and considered how precarious the situation may seem to an onlooker if they happened to pass by. The man looked as though he felt the same, since he quickly glanced over his shoulder down the alleyway — checking to make sure you were alone.

"Don't worry, Dixon, I busted my ass tonight just so I could leave you a nice tip," you said with a smile, handing the money to him.

He took it, slowly, as though he had to remind himself what it was even for.

Then, he let that cigarette butt fall to the floor, and stamped it out with his boot — before dragging it along the concrete until it was nothing but embers.

The man shook his head at you. "'M here on behalf of the welcome committee."

You snorted as you processed his words, and followed him out of that narrow alleyway into the main street.

"Bullshit," you called, "as if-"

You rounded the corner after him, and stopped. He was there, leaning against that pristine sixties Honda bike — spare helmet in hand.

It was parked up on the sidewalk, polished metal glinting in all its glory under those neon lamps. Dixon was almost camouflaged against it — his black leather jacket also speckled with white light. He held out that helmet, as if it were an invitation he was waiting for you to accept.

But he seemed shy — as though acutely aware that it was only an invite, and nothing more. So, you took it, and shook your head as you realised that it wasn't his spare helmet he had offered you; it was his only helmet.

"Said I'd take ya," he murmured, fastening the strap gently under your chin.

It was too big, so the man compensated by tying it tighter until you felt like your jaw was wired shut. But, you just smiled.

"An' I ain't no liar," he said when he was done, and kicked his leg over the bike.

Then, you sped off into the night.

You yelled over the sound of the engine for him to go faster, and laughed as you had to spit out the stray hairs that had blown into your mouth. Your clothes whipped in the wind, too, and you clung to the man in front of you as though you were afraid they might catch the draft, and make you fly away. It was electrifying; your whole body felt like pure static as you rode past shop displays and windows that made your reflections look like hazed blurs.

That whole trip felt like a hazed blur, really, because suddenly you were there.

"Where are we?" you asked, unsure of where 'there' even was. "Why'd we stop?"

You pulled the helmet from your head and cocked your leg over the bike. The man let out a chuckle at the sight of your hair, sticking up from the static — as though lightning might strike at any moment.

"Smoke break," Dixon grumbled, before coaxing out the squashed cardboard packet from his jeans. "You want one?" he asked, offering it to you.

You shook your head; you didn't smoke.

He shrugged in response, cupping his hands to his face to get a flame from his lighter. You left him to it, and turned away from the bike to catch the view.

And what a view it was, indeed.

You hadn't even noticed the sounds of the lapping ocean waves before you saw them. The cliff overlooked the beach below, desolate, with a high tide that drew the shore into you. Your grandmother had told you about this place once, on the phone a few months back as she tried to sell rural Georgia to you.

It wasn't like you were given much of a choice, anyway.

But now that you'd been shipped out here — against your will, no doubt — you had to admit that she'd been partly right. It was breath-taking. Back in the city, a place like this would be littered with beer cans and tacky, disposable barbeques within a week of someone posting about it online. Here, however, it looked untouched.

It was as though the two of you were the first to ever set foot here, on this particular crag that overlooked the waves — leaving your footprints alongside tyre treads for the next pioneers to discover.

You glanced back at Dixon over your shoulder — who was busy trying to look as though he wasn't already looking at you — and smiled.

He was one hell of a welcome committee.

Daryl almost choked on the fumes of his cigarette — letting out a cough that reminded him of the way old man Dean spluttered in the mornings. He really needed to kick that habit, he thought, and snubbed out his cigarette on the ground.

Then, you scowled at him, so he picked the butt back up and stuffed it into his pocket, grimacing at the thought of having to clean it up later.

He had been lying about the smoke break, really, but then he needed to carry out his excuse. Initially, he'd only thought about picking you up from the bar and offering you a ride back to the shop. He hadn't the slightest clue of how that plan had become this.

Somewhere along the way, Daryl might have accidentally taken a wrong turn, and ended up in the most scenic place he would think of. Stupid damn street signs, he cursed, as though he hadn't driven those roads a hundred times before.

Camaro seemed to call him out on his bluff, too, since she turned to face him and immediately shook her head.

"You're lying," she said, as though she were certain, "but the view is extraordinary, so I'll forgive you just this once."

Daryl swallowed thickly, tasting the tobacco that had made his throat so dry. For someone who claimed himself not to be a liar, that was all he seemed to be doing today.

Then, he watched you make your way towards the edge of that cliff, like you couldn't even hear him warning you to be careful. It was like you weren't paying him the slightest attention. Daryl was used to that from women — but somehow, this was different.

You didn't look down on him, nor at him with any hint of prejudice for wearing jeans still coated in oil, and boots he'd had to tape the soles of just to keep them together. In fact, you weren't looking at him at all. You seemed far more concerned with the stars that flickered in the night sky above you, but at the same time grateful towards the man for having brought you to them.

"You treat all your customers like this, Dixon?" you asked him.

He watched you turn around and look at him like you'd only just remembered that he was there. But, then you beamed a smile at him so bright that it put the stars to shame — and made all of your other ones look dim in comparison.

"Y'ain't special," he grumbled, shaking his head. "Jus' given' ya a lift home 'cos Dean told me to."

Though, Dean had left the shop hours ago.

Daryl watched you laugh like you'd caught him out one more time.

"There you go again," you said, teasingly. "Do you ever tell the truth?"

No, he didn't. He always tried to, but oftentimes it never did him any good. The people of this town had already made the assumption that he was a natural born liar. You were the first person to ever make the distinction between his white lies and those other types.

All his life, Daryl had been pigeon-holed into the role of good for nothing redneck, and had only recently graduated to the slightly less stereotyped town mechanic. But that night it was as if someone, for the first time, tried to get a peek at whatever was underneath.

Old man Dean was right. You were trouble — but not for the reason he had said. You were trouble because you seemed entirely unaware of your place in the world, and it made Daryl start to question his own. You seemed nice — perhaps even lovely — but Daryl never trusted those types. He knew you were far too good to be wasting away the early hours of the morning with the likes of him — and it left him wondering what exactly you wanted.

You'd already paid for his services, after all.

"Thank you for letting me see the stars again," you breathed, stretching your neck which ached from staring at the sky. "It's been a while."

Back then, Daryl didn't quite understand what that meant. He'd thought perhaps that you'd been talking about city pollution.

On the way back, Daryl felt you cling onto him tightly as he drove through empty roads, and passed the old, flickering street lights that blinked like camera flashes. But, when his fingers accidentally brushed up against yours, as you both reached for the shop door, you pulled your hand away.

It had only been a random Tuesday — that had eventually rolled into a Wednesday by the time he'd gotten you back into your repaired Camaro — but that was the moment in his life where Daryl felt like he had finally woken up.

But even awake, he often found himself lost in daydreams of the woman who crash landed into his life, and disappeared from it just as quickly as she came.

Daryl followed the trail of debris that had fallen from the sky, as though he were tracking some giant, metal bird. He didn't want to stick around too long, given that the noise had probably attracted every damn walker in the area; he just hoped that he was still far enough away from camp that they wouldn't be drawn there.

He stepped over the hunks of hot wreckage, some of it still ablaze, until he eventually came across something soft and not made of metal.

It was that jaeger. It was dead.

It looked as though it had been struck straight out of the sky. Its feathers lay scattered around it — the white breast now red with blood — and its wing was bent at a crooked angle, broken.

Daryl scowled. If he'd known that it was going to have such a meaningless death, then he would have shot it himself. Though, he still didn't add the bird to his string of dead animals; he thought that it had suffered enough.

He continued onwards through the brush until he stumbled across what he'd been looking for. But even as he saw it with his own eyes, Daryl couldn't quite believe it. Before him was the husk of a downed helicopter, burning in the middle of the forest.

Immediately, he ran to it, tripping over the wreckage as it got thicker and harder to navigate.

Though, there was no pilot inside — only radios and machinery parts that Daryl didn't know the names of. They screeched high frequency sounds as they caught on fire, and it made his ears ring the longer he listened.

So, he turned back.

That was when he saw it — them — a few meters away. His stomach dropped. Guess that's the pilot, he thought, looking up at the body tangled in the trees.

He'd never seen a parachute in real life before — only ever in the movies. He'd also never understood how that flimsy material could stop someone from plummeting to their death.

Well, in this case it hadn't.

The pilot was dangling from one of the branches, all caught up in those wire cables like a fish on a line. The limbs were contorted awkwardly, and Daryl swallowed thickly at the sight of their arm which had definitely been broken — reminding him of that miserable jaeger's wing.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave. The smell of burning rubber and the white noise from those radios would probably keep him up for the next few nights, but there was nothing he could do about that.

He'd been all but ready to turn around and leave, but then the body spoke to him.

"Dixon?" he heard it gasp.

And Daryl wondered just how many impossible things he might encounter today.

The voice startled him, and he almost stumbled over his own foot in return. Walkers couldn't speak, and they surely wouldn't know his name, either. Then, he caught the slightest movement, and recognised a jacket much too familiar. It had been his, after all, before he'd given it to you.

The pilot groaned, and Daryl recognised that tone of voice, too. He quickly fumbled about for his pocket knife, not even stopping to consider how the hell he'd be able to cut you down.

He couldn't even comprehend how you were alive-

"How's it hanging?" the voice spluttered.

-and how you'd kept that same god awful sense of humour.

Let me know if you want to be added/removed from the tags!

Feedback is always welcomed; I love hearing what you all think - so feel free to comment, send in an ask, or just message me if you want to chat!

Also, here is my buy me a coffee! If you enjoy my writing, tips are always appreciated. Thank you for reading!

A/N I’ve tried so hard to post this, sorry for all the technical difficulties...

[hyunjilicious]

A/n: this request is from my secondary blog. I made a post asking for ideas and concepts, but I decided I'd better post them here!! The call is still open tho!! Send me stuff! I'm not sleeping tonight so let's talk!!

Summary: kinda what the request says, but I was a bit off.. sorry. Shoot me an ask in case you didn't like this one and I'll write it again! 1.1K

As the years passed and reality was becoming so much harder to ignore, you had to come face to face with the fact that no matter how much you lied to yourself, you couldn't keep avenging forever. The first step you took - and probably the most difficult one, was moving out. You found yourself a cozy studio apartment to call home, and despite not missing any missions, it still felt tremendously better to know you had a life outside of the compound.

But it was hard. The days were lonely and nights even more so. You busied yourself, making up stupid excuses for missing out on movie nights and coffee dates with whichever colleague decided to approach you. You'd only see them on the field, and even though it hurt to some extent, it was what you needed. 

This rhythm didn't last too long, though. About two weeks after you moved, in the middle of the night, a loud knock at the front door woke you up. It turned out to be Bucky, who just like you, expressed his need to break out of the tedious routine and heavy atmosphere at the compound, and since he didn't have anywhere to go, he counted on you to provide him with a safe space to gather himself. And you were more than happy to.

That time, he stayed over for two days, and then he returned to his home. But then another two weeks passed and he was back. And two nights at your place turned into three, and 2 weeks at the compound turned into one. Before you knew it, you were cohabiting in what was probably the most peaceful manner you considered possible. 

And then it was just a matter of time until you'd get your own missions - just you and Bucky, working towards a common pace that kept you both safe and grounded. It didn't feel like work anymore, and soon, he didn't feel like just a friend anymore either. 

Weeks passed and this was the new normal. You shared an apartment and were partners on and off the field, even if none of you had the guts to word it yet. And everyone accepted it too, and in the end, the time had come for a small get together. For the sake of it all, you invited the rest of the avengers over to drink and have a good time, and it was probably the best time you had with them in years. Some time away did you more than just good.

But now it was 3am, and you and Bucky were left to deal with the aftermath of the small gathering that had actually never been just that. Soon after Thor walked through the door, the atmosphere turned hazardous and what you had there was no longer a chill night in, it was a full blown party, that right now, you were nowhere in the mood to clean after.

"What are you doing?" you laughed as you felt a weight on your shoulder, realising seconds after that it was Bucky's forehead.

"Let's finish cleaning up tomorrow" he whined, before straightening his back.

He reached forward and turned the water off, lazily wrapping his arms around your body and tucking his face in the crook of your neck.

"I can finish up here. Go to sleep" you offered, mistaking his demour for fatigue.

"No" was all Bucky said before pulling you back and turning you around in his hold. He held you tightly against his chest, silence settling around the two of you.

The playlist that had been playing during the party was long forgotten, his music library now on shuffle. There was a slow 80s song filling up the room, its soft beat and relaxing jazz line accentuating the cozy atmosphere that had settled around your apartment.

"You ok?" you mumbled, trailing your still wet and covered in dish soap fingers across his jawline. 

Bucky looked up at you with a droopy smile on his lips. His eyes were hooded, more closed than open, but their color was so vibrant, holding more life in them than you ever seen before.

"I'm good" he nodded before hesitatingly going in for a kiss on your forehead.

You couldn't help but giggle to yourself, ears ringing as butterflies took over your whole body. You were lost and had no idea how to act. This wasn't a version of him you knew. 

When his hands dropped from your back to your waist, holding you steadily in front of him, you bowed your head, too shy to look at him anymore.

"Don't like dancing?" he asked. He didn't sound hurt, more like amused, and ready to drop the action in case you expressed that that was what you wanted.

"I do, I do" you shook your head and clumsily placed your hand on his shoulders, allowing him to guide you. What you were doing wasn't dancing, no one could call it that, but it was sweet and intimate. The way he held you close, his eyes full of admiration watching closely every change in your expression as he carefully guided you to follow him. All you did was spin in small circles around the kitchen at a ridiculously slow pace.

The floor was a mess, salsa sauce and spilled wine everywhere, but you kept going, caught under his spell.

You never thought about it before, but the love that was so undeniably plastered on his features was proof of the goodness that had been hidden inside his heart for so many decades. He was finally happy, you could see that. But still, he was holding back.

With your heart all the way up in the back of your throat, you wiped your palm against your jeans and then brought it up to his cheek. Bucky instantly leaned into your touch, his eyes fluttering close as a smile spread across his lips.

"Tell me" you whispered.

"Tell you what?" 

"There's something on your mind" you cleared. The little specks of fear in the blue of his eyes were confirmation of that. "You can tell me"

"I love you" Bucky confessed much faster than you expected.

You never thought you'd actually hear those words again, but they didn't surprise you. It wasn't out of nowhere. He had shown you how much he cared about you time and time again, he never worded it before, but he hadn't hidden it either. 

And when your lips finally pressed again his, a new wave of life washed over you. Years of pent up emotion dripped from his tongue onto yours as you molded your bodies together, gathering each other as close as possible. Your eyes watered, but no tears fell. You were overwhelmed in the best kind of way, your chest full and your heart, finally calm.

It was not clear who pulled away first, but immediately after, you pushed yourself up on your tiptoes, your lips against his cheek as your fingers curled into the material of his shirt. "And I love you"

-

I'm always open to more ideas!! Hmu!!

[reidyoulikeabook]

hi i saw that your requests are open for the night for that list and i feel like 15&35 with spencer might be all i need to survive

anyways i’m on anon bc i’m scared you’ll hate this request but just know your writing is my favorite i would read your grocery lists at this point

excuse me i love this request please do not disparage yourself ever again <3 that’s the loveliest thing anybody has ever said to me and i will now think of you and this compliment whenever i write a grocery list

Ship: GN! (wears a bra, no mention of gender other than this) Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: Mentions of canon-typical case things, pining, mild thievery.

Word count: 2.4k

Prompts: #15 - "You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

#35 - “Well fuck, didn’t expect to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

A/N: This got so ungodly long I’m so sorry I don’t even know if I can call this a blurb at this point it’s a full fic but I loved this idea so much and it ran away from me.

PLEASE let me know what you think because I bashed this out in the span of an hour and I’m not sure if I love or hate it.

--

Rossi’s spitballing theories behind you. Your head lolls on the desk, feeling far too heavy to attempt lifting up at this time of night. The case was hard, you were sleeping in shifts, and somehow you, Rossi, and Reid had drawn the short straw. Your eyes are blearing a little too much to make out the exact time on the clock, it’s on the opposite side of the room and your eyes burn when you squint to look at the time; you’re fairly certain you’re somewhere on the wrong side of 3am.

23 hours awake.

Sighing, you push yourself up, looking around and only now noting that Spencer isn’t in the room. He must have made his exit while you were flicking through the files making notes, it was often easier to do that with your headphones in.

Thankfully, you'd set up shop in a conference room at the hotel, given the local PD was tiny and barely equipped to handle its own officers.

“What about the meat packing district?” Rossi muses.

It’s a rhetorical question but one you actually have an answer to, “I don’t think so. The busiest part of the city is between the meat packing district and where he’s dumping the bodies. Cops do random stop-and-searches sometimes, I don’t know if he’d risk it.”

“He could drive around.”

You frown, thinking, “He’d be crossing state lines. Hey, wait,” You stand up from your chair, walking to the board and starting drawing circles that illustrate your point, “Spencer thought there must be a pattern, right? But it died off here and we didn’t know about any more victims. If we expanded the search to outside of state lines it might connect here, here, and here,” You circle each here with a point, tapping the pen against the board triumphantly.

Rossi smiles, “Good thinking kid. I’ll call Garcia.”

Exhausted from your breakthrough, you flop back down into the chair. The clothes you’ve been wearing are icky, uncomfortable with sweat and flying and you’re strongly regretting your choice in underwear now too.

You hear the door swing open, looking up to see Spencer entering the room. Holding your go-bag. The one you’d left on the jet this morning. The jet that was a two hour drive from your current location.

“Where did you? When did you?” Your incoherency is related to both your tiredness, and his thoughtfulness.

He smiles, “It took some calling around but I found a cab driver willing to go and pick it up. It just got here.”

“Spencer I-,” You start, scrambling to your feet to accept the bag he’s offering to you, “Thank you. That’s so sweet of you. How much was the cab?”

“Don’t worry about it,” He says, handing it to you and heading over to the board, “What are these?”

Rossi - who was watching the exchange with some amusement - starts explaining the eureka moment you’d had. Spencer nods along, turning to smile at you when Rossi credits the thought to you. It’s something he does a lot, Rossi’s noticed. Not in a condescending way, Spencer knows more than anyone just how capable you are at your job. It’s as if he needs to channel his love for you somewhere, and chooses pride. It’s the easiest one to explain, after all, because who isn’t happy for their colleague making breakthroughs?

That’s how Spencer justifies it anyhow.

You leave the room, heading to the bathroom to change. You’re incredibly grateful to slip out of your dirty clothes and the bra that’s cutting into you, so much so that you decide to pop on a t-shirt under your blazer. The sports bra and t-shirt combo revitalises you more than you thought possible for this hour.

Digging through, you find an item that you didn’t pack. A pair of brown fluffy slippers. Attached to them, a note, ‘I thought the heels on your boots looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want your feet to hurt. - Spencer.

He signed the note. Something about that, alongside the gift itself, sends a flush of warmth through you.

He gave you his slippers

So?

Is that something friends do?

Wracking your brain, you try to think up if he’d do this for anyone else. Hotch? The thought makes you laugh. Emily? Maybe, actually. If she didn’t make it so hard for others to take care of her. Penelope? Almost definitely.

Your heart sinks a little, and you distract yourself by fumbling to get your work boots off and the slippers on.

It doesn’t matter it isn’t romantic, it matters that he did it.

It matters to every other person you date

He sets an impossibly high bar

Thankfully, the late hour means that there aren’t many local PD still hanging around to see your interesting choice of shoe. You slip through to the conference room, where Spencer and Rossi are huddled over the phone talking to Garcia.

Spencer does a double-take. He knew the gift he’d given you, but he hadn’t expected to see you...wearing them? You look beautiful: hair mussed from fiddling with it, an old college t-shirt under your blazer, brown fluffy slippers on your feet. The mix of professional and homely attire does something to him that he can’t quite explain, and he has to clear his throat before making his next point to Garcia.

Did he just blush?

You try not to stare at him, try not to see if that’s a tinge of red creeping up under his turtleneck.

It is.

“Thanks Garcia,” Rossi clips, hanging up the phone, “I’m going to go and find some coffee. You two,” He points, looking knowingly between you, “Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

No sooner has Rossi left the room, you both try speaking at once.

“You look-” He starts.

“Thank you so-” You start.

You both tinge with warmth.

“You go first,” He says, gnawing at his plump lower lip, finger turning oer the pen in his hand.

You laugh, a little breathless, “Well fuck, I wasn’t expecting to be announcing my undying love for you this early in the morning.”

His eyebrows quirk, is that...hope?

No. Wishful thinking

It’s probably confusion, and you’re a little embarassed, so you quickly clarify, “I mean Spencer Reid this is the kindest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’m endebted to you forever, really.”

A look washes over him: disappointment? You can’t trust your eyes to see the clock, so you feel you can’t entrust them to analyse his micro-expressions right now either. Especially when you’re biased by personal desire.

“It’s no problem,” He says, voice cracking a little, “You look...” He trails off.

“Unprofessional?” You suggest, teasing.

He shakes his head, swallowing, “You look really nice.”

It’s your turn to swallow. You drop your gaze to the pen, feeling too flustered to continue looking your colleague in the eyes at this moment in time, “Thank you. Where did you get slippers at this time of night?”

He shifts, one hand settling over the wrist of the other and fingers nervously rubbing over the back of his hand, “They were uhm. They were mine.”

“Yours?”

“Yeah,” It comes out pitchy, a squeak, “I’m sorry, that’s probably weird I just thought-”

“No, Spence,” You say, looking up at him and giving him a genuine smile, “No, it’s really sweet. I’m really lucky to have you.”

He gives his signature tiny tight-lipped smile, the one he gives when he’s feeling awkward or suppressing something he wants to say but can’t.

Please let it be the latter.

You relinquish him of the obligation of responding, instead standing to join him at the board, “You think you’ve got enough to make a geographical profile out of this?”

He nods, tapping the board with his pen, “Your idea about crossing interstate lines was really smart.”

“I have my moments.”

He wants to tell you that everything you have is a moment. You want to step closer, to cup his face in your hands, to press a kiss to the lips that you swear are pouting, begging to be kissed. You don’t.

Namely, because Rossi chooses this moment to re-enter the room, clutching three cups of coffee, “A little help here?”

From the way you spring apart, despite not even being that close, he wishes he’d taken a little longer. Damn kids and their inability to express their feelings for one another.

***

It’s 4:30am when the alarm on your phone goes off. With the work of the four of you - Garcia sporadically included when she had genius updates - you’ve managed to uncover a pattern that arches across states. You’d called Hotch, who’d commended the good work and advised that you should head to bed at 4:30. The others would get up then, and start to head out to the different potential crime scenes. Local PD was already on it.

You’d been told under no uncertain terms that you were to rest until at least 10am. Unless there was a call from Hotch. You prayed there wouldn’t be.

Rossi’s off the minute the alarm rings, bustling out the door with a “See you later kids.”

You wait behind while Spencer packs his things into his satchel. Or rather, unpacks his things from his satchel, frantically tearing it apart.

“What are you looking for?” You ask.

“My key card,” He murmurs, “I swear it was in my wallet.”

“You were rooming with Morgan, right? Want me to call him?”

“Yes please,” He says, continuing to unearth the contents of his bag onto the desk, with an increasing degree of agitation every second that goes by.

You dial Morgan’s number, and he answers after two rings, “Hey kid.”

You put the phone on loudspeaker.

“Hey. I’m with Spencer, we’re about to head up to our rooms for the night, are you still here? He can’t find his keycard.”

He lets out a breath of air through his teeth, “Sorry, I’m already on my way to one of the crime scenes. Local PD found a body over the state line. Nobody’s at the hotel but you guys and Rossi.”

Spencer outwardly sighs.

“No problem, we’ll figure something out.”

“Alright, good work kid, get some rest.”

The phone line clicks. Spencer’s brow is pinched with frustration, and your heart breaks for him. You’ve all been awake well over 24 hours, and he looks exhausted. He’s more eyebag than man at this point.

“Do you want me to go to the front desk?” You ask.

He shakes his head, “Reception doesn’t open until 6am. I’ll just wait here until then.”

He starts packing the belongings back into his bag, a resigned look on his face. And you have an idea.

“Actually,” You say, pulling the keycard out of your pocket and sliding it across the table to him, “You’ve just won one free pass to my bedroom.”

He picks the card up, squinting in confusion.

“Me and Rossi both got put in single rooms. I mean, it might not be the most comfortable thing in the world, both of us in a single bed, but it’s better than nothing right?”

He opens his mouth to object, and you shake your head.

“Spence you look like you’re about to drop unconscious on the floor and I don’t want to be responsible for yet another injureid.”

You’re so tired that the pun seems hilarious to you, and it does elicit a small laugh from him.

“Come on, it’s either share a bed with me, share a bed with Rossi, or try to sleep in one of these chairs. And I’ll be honest, I’d be kind of offended if you’d rather either of the other two options.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” He says, obviously warming up to the offer but not wanting to push his luck. You can hear the hesitancy in his voice.

“You can. But you won’t,” You tell him, settling your go-bag on your shoulder, “And might I remind you that all this time you’re spending objecting are minutes we could be spending sleeping.”

That seems to win him over. He tucks everything back into his bag, zipping it up, “After you.”

“You have the keycard,” You smile, “After you.”

***

The bed is a single bed. It prompts another round of ‘No really, I can sleep on the floor’ from Spencer, your enquiries about if it’s too much for his germaphobia or issues with touching, and his blushy embarassed reassurance that he doesn’t mind if it’s you.

He doesn’t mind if it’s you.

Not as if you’ll spend the next year mulling over those words or anything.

When you get out of the bathroom from changing, Spencer is tucked up in bed. Well, you say tucked up, but he’s practically lay right on the edge. How he’s actually physically still being supported by the mattress at this point must be his physics magic.

“I thought I said I didn’t want you getting injured,” You say, crossing the room to him.

He opens his eyes, “I didn’t want to-”

“It’s okay Spence,” You tell him, huddling down into bed.

There’s about enough room for you both to fit in, with an inch between you, so you pull gently at his arms, urging him closer.

“There’s enough room for us both without you going flying in the night,” You tell him.

He nods, obviously still a little nervous. It’s odd, lying face to face with him, illuminated only by lamplight. He looks soft. He always does, but there’s something intimate about this. You can feel his breath fan across your cheek, can feel how heat radiates off his arms.

“Do you want me to turn the lamp off?” He asks.

It’s not your staring that implores him to ask, because he’s been staring at you too. The both of you, trapped in a perfect bubble of a moment. Lamplight a spotlight, highlighting all the features of the person you love most.

“Sure,” You whisper, breath catching in your throat.

He flicks it off, settling back down.

His breath brushes against your face when he asks, “Do you want me to turn around?”

“Do you want to?”

He hesitates for a moment, voice even softer when he answers, “No.”

It’s dark. You can hardly make out his outline. Yet somehow, you both just know. Shifting, infitismally closer. Breaching the tiniest gap between you somehow feels like crossing the Grand Canyon. Your heart thumps in your chest, and you can feel it in your fingers, the fingers that trace cautiously along his jaw.

His mouth finally, finally, slotting against yours in the most gentle of kisses. A blink and you’d miss it.

And yet, in the same blink, your life changes forever.

When Rossi makes a speech at your wedding, he admits to being the thief of the missing keycard, and intentional orchestrator of the greatest love story he’s ever known. His words.

---

Permanent tagslist: @reidingmelodies @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician @calm-and-doctor @ssa-m-187  @seasonfivereid @averyhotchner @muffin-cup @purplewaterbottles082 @spencerreid9 @drspencerreidd @reidsnose

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[deceitfuldevil]

Do I Wanna Know?

Pietro Maximoff X Reader

Summary: You and Pietro’s friendship could best be described as a relationship that never was, it was constant flirting that you both brushed off as just a very close friendship. A friendship so close that sometimes you flirt with others, so when feelings get hurt; dynamics are crushed. But those who are meant for each other will always come crawling back. Vaguely based off the song “Do I Wanna Know?” by the Arctic Monkeys.

Warnings: Slight angst, kissing, fluff, all that :)

Word Count: 2.3K

It all started when you first joined the avengers, a few months after the battle of Sokovia. Tony had a last minute thing with Pepper and assigned Pietro Maximoff to show you around the compound, which he initially whined over. Not wanting to do anything more than stay in bed on his day off, he begged Wanda to take over for him. She agreed under the circumstance that he’d make dinner for a week.

Sitting on the couch watching whatever was on TV at the moment, Pietro munched on some chips, enjoying his day off to its fullest extent. He heard some chattering behind him and turned his head to see his sister Wanda and another woman with her head turned the other way, who he could only assume was the newest member to the team. Waving a small hello to his sister he turned back around and continued his program, but of course Wanda wouldn’t let him off that easy.

“Ahem,” Wanda said, clearing her throat as she now stood next to the couch Pietro sat on with the newest recruit, you.

“Y/n, this is my brother Pietro. Pietro, this is the newest addition to the Avengers, Y/n.” she said with a smile, mentally slapping her brother for being so lazy. Pietro gave you and Wanda a half-assed glance ready to wave you off, but he did a double take when he saw you. Choking slightly on his chips he stood up abruptly and brushed himself off, extending his hand out to yours.

You started to feel hot under his gaze as you gladly accepted his hand and shook it; he had a firm grasp that made you want to melt into the ground.

“So, what’s your thing printcessa?” He asked smoothly, slipping his hand out of yours, making you frown slightly as the loss of contact. But then you quirked your head to the side, not understanding his question.

“He means, what powers do you have?” Wanda interjected, clarifying his question.

“Oh you know, telekinesis, super strength, some healing abilities, the usual.” you joked

“Hey we could’ve really used you a few months ago during the battle of Sokovia. This asshole nearly got himself killed!” Wanda said, raising her eyebrows at her brother.

“Ahh sister you worry too much, I was fine!” Pietro insisted, waving her off.

“Sure you were. . . we’re going to finish this tour now okay?” Wanda said, turning around and getting ready to show you the rest of the compound. But of course Pietro had something to say about that.

“And take this gorgeous new Avenger away from me? You know Tony assigned me to show her around, right? So rude of you to just steal her away like that. . .” Pietro said, rushing to your side and taking your hand, pulling you along.

“I thought you wanted to-”

“Sorry! TV is too loud, I can’t hear you!” Pietro said running off with you, making you giggle.

The rest of the tour Pietro slipped in little compliments and flirty touches; in fact, the rest of your time there was practically the same. You had an innate attraction to Pietro, and he was drawn to you from the moment he laid eyes on you. But yet, nothing ever actually happened between the two of you, which quite frankly annoyed the hell out of the team. Having to constantly watch you two flirt and cuddle as if it was nothing was borderline ridiculous.

It’s been four months since you’ve joined the avengers and your tension with Pietro was higher than ever, and with another successful mission down Tony decided to host another one of his famous parties. You saw this as the perfect opportunity to look irresistible for Pietro, but when you walked out onto the dance floor in your sexiest dress and saw Pietro at the bar with some blonde bimbo caressing his muscles, and you damn near lost it.

Rationally, you had no right to be angry at all. You and Pietro weren’t an item, you never were. But seeing him in such close proximity to some girl who's name he probably didn’t even know practically made steam come out of your ears. You disregarded your fellow teammates saying hello to you as you entered the party and the compliments thrown your way as you made your way towards Pietro, ready to give him a piece of your mind.

But you were too late, no more than 10 feet away from Pietro the nasty blonde he was with pulled him in for a sloppy kiss. You watched in horror and pain as you felt your heart break into a million and one pieces. You rushed off to your room before any tears could spill from your eyes, staying there for the rest of the night as the party raged on, only imagining the worst in your head about Pietro and that bitch he was with.

What you didn’t see was Pietro promptly pushing the blonde away from him, and Wanda finding her brother soon after slapping him across the face.

“What the hell, Pietro?!” Wanda shouted at her brother, drawing attention from the others at the party.

“Suka! What was that for?!” He exclaimed, holding the left side of his face in pain.

“That was for kissing that girl when you know Y/n’s been pinning after you for months!” She yelled, not caring about the excess attention from the others.

“She doesn’t feel that way about me. We've been over this a thousand times Wanda!” He fired back, anger and hurt lacing his voice.

“Yes she does! Did you forget I can read minds?” She said rolling her eyes, a little red glowing in them. Pietro got quiet and turned away from his sister.

“You better go and apologize to her and tell her how you really feel before she changes her mind after what she just saw!” Wanda pointed out, causing her brother to rush off, leaving streaks of blue in his place.

You sat with your back pressed to your door as you sobbed quietly, jumping when you heard a knock behind you.

“Y/n?” You heard Pietro call out. You sighed and rolled your eyes.

“I don’t have any condoms Pietro, go ask Sam.” You said bitterly.

Standing on the other side of the door your words were like knives in Pietro’s chest; he wanted to respond and tell you how he really felt, but after your harsh comment he turned away and went back to his room. Wanda visited him when the party was over and he gave her the same bitter attitude you had given him hours ago.

“I don’t know what part of her head you looked into but she definitely doesn’t feel the same way, so thanks a lot.” Pietro said harshly, making Wanda leave without another word.

Things were a lot different in the compound after that night. You and Pietro were no longer lovey-dovey, now holding nothing but contempt towards one another. It changed the whole dynamic of the team, none of them knowing how to act around you two now, or even what happened.

It had been about three weeks since you and Pietro last spoke to each other, and here you were at 3am sitting on the couch crying while you ate ice straight out of the carton. You sat silently as the tears streamed down your face, jumping when you felt a hand on your shoulder. Turning around you saw a very tired looking Wanda.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?” You asked quietly.

“No, but your thoughts did. I never knew someone’s thoughts could be so loud when they’re heartbroken.” Wanda said, sitting down next to you.

“Pfshh, I’m not heartbroken! What in God's name are you talking about?” You said casually, pushing your emotions back down as you set the container of ice cream down on the table in front of you.

“You know, he’s torn up too.” Wanda said, turning to face you.

“And you expect me to believe that why?” You asked, neither of you noticing the new presence that stood in the kitchen.

“Did both of you magically forget I can read minds?” She asked with a laugh, making you feel small.

“Okay well even if he did have feelings for me at one point there’s no way he still feels that way. If he did he wouldn’t have let that girl kiss him at the party,” you said bitterly.

“You have no idea how much he regrets that, and for the record that blonde kissed him. He pushed her off after you ran away.” Wanda explained, putting more hope than you’d cared to admit in your heart.

“He’ll come crawling back to you soon enough, I promise.” she said with a small laugh, patting your back as she got up and left you alone on the couch. Wondering if your feelings for Pietro flowed both ways.

A little more than a week had passed since that night as you were constantly tormented by the question, “Do I wanna know?” because if Pietro did feel the same way towards you at one point, how would the recent events change how he feels for you now?

However now was not the time to dwell on the question racking your head; now you were on a mission with the rest of the team getting some much needed intel from what you thought was an abandoned HYDRA base. But when gunfire erupted you immediately took cover and soon followed Steve’s orders to fall back and head to the quinjet. Running back you tripped and fell face first into the dirt. Getting up you winced as you looked around and saw the last person you’d want hurt.

“Pietro’s shot!” You scream into your comms as you crawled next to him as he laid up against a tree, falling in and out of consciousness. You started to cry worrying your powers wouldn’t be enough as you placed your hands over his wounds, mustering all of the power you could. You thought all hope was lost until you heard a loud gasp as Pietro grabbed onto you and held you close to his chest.

“It’s okay Pietro, I’m here, you’re alright,” you whispered as you started to feel very tired. He ran his fingers through your hair as he stared down at you, in awe of your abilities. You looked back at him with tired eyes.

“I’ll always come crawling back to you,” you said as sleep took over your body. Pietro took it upon himself to speed your sleeping figure back to the quinjet, setting you down as you snored softly. He admired you, but only for a minute as Wanda embraced him in a big hug from behind.

“You have got to stop making the sacrifice play, brother.” she said, more than relieved that he was okay.

“Now I just might. I wouldn’t want to put this beauty under so much stress again right?” He joked, motioning to your sleeping figure. Wanda smiled brightly at him.

“You better not mess this up again, otherwise I’m finding her a more suitable partner.” Wanda joked, punching her brother in the arm playfully.

“No one is more perfect for her than I.” Pietro said with a cocky tone. Wanda only sighed in response, not wanting to admit that he was right.

-

You woke up slowly in a dimly lit room; looking around you saw a familiar man with silver hair asleep in the corner of what you now recognized as the compound’s recovery room. You smiled contently as you used your telekinesis to bring the chair he slept in next to your bed. You reached out for his hand and gently ran your fingers over his knuckles, sighing tranquilly

Pietro slowly awoke as you just stared shamelessly at him.

“Dragosté!” Pietro exclaimed, now fully awake, jumping up and embracing you in a tight hug. He pulled away but kept his close distance, his hot breath fanning over your face as your eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips. A few more stolen moments passed by before Pietro closed the space in-between you two and pressed his soft lips to yours. Moving lazily against each other he slowly pulled away and rested his forehead on yours.

“I’m so sorry for everything, I should’ve seen it sooner.” he said sweetly, pressing another kiss to your cheek as you smiled.

“It’s okay, you’re here now and that’s all that matters.” you said, bringing your hand up to the side of his face, admiring his cobalt blue eyes. His eyes filled with the most love-struck look you’d ever seen as he pressed his lips back on yours, grinning from ear to ear.

You’d have some explaining to do to your other teammates in the morning when they’d inevitably find you both sleeping together in the cramped hospital bed though.

-

Hi all!! I hope this short imagine was fun for you all to read! Some of my more recent one-shots have been getting a lot of attention lately and it makes me so happy! I am over the moon that I’m not only writing again but gaining some traction. Thank you all so much! Don’t forget that my requests are open and feedback is encouraged! Also I just hit 100 followers and I know it’s not much but I’ll be starting a sleepover tomorrow!

Much Love,

-Skyler

[saudade-mayari]

💜 Happy 500 Luna! Can I please have Kakashi x Reader + some night bliss scenario? You know, that moment when you both can't sleep at 3am, and it's just... Peaceful and safe (sfw or not - I'll leave it to you 😌). I'm so proud of you, you're an amazing author, you deserve all love. I hope we'll see your 1k milestone soon ♥️

3am Midnight Bliss

♡ Warnings: Kakashi x fem!reader, domestic fluffs, suggestive content and nsfw on the last part, 18+ content, minors please dni

The nightfall’s calming and peaceful dim light shining across the windows of his apartment was hypnotizing, the moon was full and shown with a brilliance between the tall evergreens and slow rising of buildings in Konoha. It was all good, almost perfect if you could say so. The reconstruction of Konoha had come better than expected, his hard work of being the base pillar of the Land of Fire and ensuring that the village will enter a new state of technology was all worth it. His restless nights of meeting various investors, councilmen, and fellow Kages totally paid its price, truly a diligent man.

Your eyes opened wide by the sudden actions of Kakashi, the way he wrapped his arms around you is filled with longing and passion. It’s been a while since he actually stayed in his own house, been a while since both of you had laid each other down and talk about life. Indeed being the Hokage took all his time but you understand, he may not ‘love’ the responsibility of being the supreme leader of the Land of Fire but never did Kakashi once slacked off or put the village in a tight situation. He loves the village and the people and he’s willing to protect it at all cost. That’s one thing you are sure about. You wrapped your small arms around his body while your legs clinging to his hips, finally noticing you are also awake.

“Can’t sleep?” You muttered between his arms. Kakashi’s eyes somehow glittered in happiness, missing your touch and your voice whenever he’s out on serious Kage works. He gave out a not-so-tired nod then kissed your head while giving you another tight hug. You smiled between his arms, it felt peaceful. It’s not what you and Kakashi had grown up with. You are both 2-war veterans and seeing every corner of the world in a peaceful state is almost a dream for him.

“It’s so different now.” He said, stroking every strand of hair that covers your face. You smiled, both of you are thinking the same thoughts. It was almost unbelievable. You kissed his chest.

“It really is. It’s so calming.” You answered while looking at his face. Appreciating his little beauty mark, his well-defined jaw, his fair skin, eyes, the scarred cheek that made him look so perfect, and the classic silver hair of Kakashi. “It’s all thanks to Naruto and the rest. I haven’t even done anything as their Hokage.” He answered. This rarely happens, pillow talks weren’t usually on Kakashi’s master plans and schedules since he became the Hokage. He needed rest and you always ensure he’ll get enough strength for the next day. It’s the very least you could do for him.

“You’re a great Hokage, love. You did a lot for the village even before you’ve become the Hokage. Don’t downgrade yourself too much.”

Kakashi hugged you tighter. Once again smelling the flowery scent that he had always love. His calming complex, his home. “Really? I think you’re just flattering me.” You gave out a small chuckle on his response, clearly joking but you know how low his confidence had become ever since he took the title of Sixth Hokage.

“You established many things already. Many things wouldn’t be possible if it weren’t you sitting on the chair as Sixth Hokage.” You assured him but Kakashi gave out a sigh. Despite the peace, there were still many things bothering him. You’ve been his wife for almost 3 years now and every single sigh and flickers on his eyes are so obvious to what’s bothering him. He was even amazed at how much you were able to read him as he does.

“Kakashi love… Tell me. What’s bothering you”

“I wish we were born a little later, Obito and Rin wouldn’t have to go through such pain. I feel so guilty living this kind of peace when they’re not here. Anymore. I don’t even deserve this.”

You sat down, stared at those dark orbs now filled with sadness and regret. You cupped his face to force him to look at you. Obito and Rin. The memoirs that always tattoed in our hearts. The very reason why Kakashi had turned out to be a great man is because of the ideals they all shared as a team.

“Kakashi. Do you think they’re going to be happy seeing you like that? You don’t regret marrying me aren’t you?”

“No. Of course not! I love you.”

You smiled at him then kissed the tip of his nose. “Then let’s live for them okay? And besides… You gotta live for another buddy this time.”

Kakashi stood up, gave you a reassuring smile then held your shoulders, slightly shocked by your sudden remarks. Seeing him on his tank top while his mask freely hanging on his neck and those unruly silver locks made you chuckle are completely far from the broad man they see on an everyday basis. Yep, the Sixth Hokage.

“y/n- Are you-”

Answering with a nod, tears started building up in his dark orbs. The feeling of love. Marriage and parenthood. It was almost unbelievable for Kakashi. His grip on your shoulders gradually tightened and started looking up at the room’s ceiling, clearly trying to suppress his tears from completely falling.

“We’ve been trying right…When did you-... I-”

“Three months. Sakura disclosed this morning. I was about to announce later but I think today’s the right moment to say..”

Kakashi did not take his time already, in a matter of time your lips suddenly crushed to his. It was not lust, not the type of hunger you usually do. It was different. Gratitude and Happiness. Love and warmth. It was so emotional.

You wrapped his arms around his neck to pull him closer, both of you were once again laid down on the soft mattress of the bed, slightly making the thick comforter out of place. Your foreheads and the tip of your noses are pressing to each other. Both of your tears are now falling, feeling extremely euphoric and everything in between.

“I love you. Let’s live for them and for our kid Kakashi.”

And before he entered his tongue to yours, Kakashi rubbed your belly then goes back to kissing your cheeks with tears still falling. He’s going to be a father. The one that scared him the most but little did he know the excitement of forming a family with you would be this emotional.

“I love you too, thank you for everything y/n.”

Kakashi never took his time removing your clothes but it was still steady and slow. His moves were delicate and careful. He could smell your arousal. He knew that you’re turned on. He parted your folds only to find that you’re core is invitingly wet. He massaged it carefully, looking at you while your lips part from the moans around the four corners of the room.

“Kakashi… I need you…”

“My wife is so needy, as you wish love.”

He placed his shaft at your entrance and nudged its way in. You gave out a pleasuring gasped as you tried to adjust to his overwhelming length. Once he was completely inside you, Kakashi started thrusting slow and steadily. Your hips met his every thrust, making you raise your legs to circle around his waist. This only allowed him to move into your body much closer. Kakashi had kept kissing you to prevent you from screaming. He knew that he wouldn't last long. He increased the pace and when he couldn't hold back any longer, he gave out soft grunts and moans alongside his climax. Praising how much lucky he is to have you as his wife. Before closing your eyes Kakashi passionately kissed your lips then held your 3 month belly.

“I can’t believe we’re going to be family y/n. I’ll do my best to be the father our little baby deserves.”

“We will, love. I know it.”

Requests for 500 followers event status: CLOSED

Event Masterlist

[rotshop]

SORRRRYYYY i promise ill get 2 reqs soon,,,,it is just one of those times,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,fuxzzy brain momense

n e way here s this bc i am also haing another catperson moment. ill proof read this later maybe . who knows.

tw for one illusion to smoking / nicotine

-

You barely even heard your own growling. It was a lower and quieter one, you were sure it could be mistaken for purring if someone only took a quick glance at you. Though, the pinned back ears and light 'thump' your tail made against the floor was probably a definite indicator that wasn't right. To say that the frustration and irritation was clearly written on your figure was a complete lie.

You were a little too lost in your thoughts to really pay attention to anything else that was going on. Staring at the mess of cloth and fluff that was currently your bed, you allowed yourself to zone out. It'd all started with you tossing and turning for a little longer than liked. Sure, while you were out like a light most nights, there were some where you would stay up a bit longer.

This though? It'd been a little over two hours since you first dropped down, leaving your patience all too thin. At first, you'd deemed it was just you thinking too hard, shifting your thoughts to some lighter little story. Then, it was simply that you needed a drink of water. Then, it was some other thing. At some point, you'd figured that you were just uncomfortable ; either too cold or too hot, feeling bare and exposed or suffocated under the weight of your blankets, this or that endlessly.

With a little sigh you pried yourself from the depths of your subconscious, dragging yourself forward to try and fix things again. You knew all too well that you weren't going to accomplish much of anything, you'd likely just irritate yourself further and you'd end up just laying and staring at the ceiling all night. It definitely beat sitting there and listening to Sanford's snoring though, so it was something to do at least. Begrudgingly, you found your hands dragging blankets and pillows around once again.

Deimos was no stranger to waking up in the middle of the night, if anything he was more surprised if it didn't happen. It wasn't anything too bad, most times he'd just get up for a bit, get a drink or walk around, lay back down and conk out again. It was oddly peaceful in its own way, seeing and hearing just how quiet and still the base could be in the dead of night. He'd been able to train himself to pick up even the smallest of sounds on nights like this, so it wasn't difficult to pick up on all the shuffling.

He'd found himself padding over to your room quietly, just in case you really were just asleep. He'd learned the hard way just how spiteful cats can be when you wake them up before they'd like. Very quickly, he'd realized you were in fact awake, fidgeting endlessly and uncomfortably. He'd paused in the doorway for a moment before carefully drawing closer, you not taking any notice despite the little flicks your ears made at the sound.

With a grin, he'd leaned over you, placing his hands on your shoulders firmly.

"What'cha doin?"

You'd startled immediately, the beginnings of a louder-than-either-of-you-would-like yowl starting in your throat before he'd slapped a hand over your mouth.

"Hey- Chill out, 's just me!"

You'd glared back at him briefly, pushing his hand away from your mouth roughly as you ducked away.

"Yeah, thanks, I never would've guessed from the dusty-ass bandages. When was the last time you changed those?"

With a little frown at your response he leaned onto the bed, giving you a bit of space. "An 'Oh, hey my dearly loved friend, how are you doing on this wonderful night?' or something would'a been nice."

You'd scoffed a bit and rolled your eyes at that, turning back you attention to the tangle of your sheets. "Riight right, why exactly are you bothering me again?"

"Dunno, why aren't you asleep at the lord's hour of 3am?" He'd hummed, cynicism lacing into his voice.

You'd sighed, harsher than he'd expected, "Well- I would be asleep if it weren't for dumb luck deciding no! I don't get to get a wink of rest on some random night for no reason even though my survival kinda hinges on me, y'know, not being so tired I fatally fuck up."

He'd blinked a bit at your response, falling into silence temporarily. While most interactions between the two of you kept up a playfully argumentative and rough angle, there were times you both let that slip for a while. It was obvious this whole thing was getting to you a little more than you'd like to admit or at least more than you could without getting loud. So, with a glimmer of anxiety, he'd spoken up once more.

"You want me to help you?"

You'd paused briefly in your motions before looking back to him, "Huh? I..What do you mean by that? I swear, if this is some dumb shit now is not the time-"

"'M being serious!" He'd retorted, "Look, it's clear you're pissed and you aren't making much progress in here. So, why not just cut your losses and try and sleep in my room?"

You'd stared at him for a moment blankly, looking for something in his expression. He'd looked right back at you, ignoring that little bit of nervousness that'd tempted to make him waver in his ministrations. Eventually though, you decided you hadn't found it as you broke your gaze.

"Fine. Just let me grab my things first, you can go try and make sure it isn't a total wreck in there while you wait so I don't burst out laughing at the place and wake everyone else up."

He'd beamed at that, you having to bite back your own smile from the little bit of it you seen.

"Y'got it. Take your time, kitty!" he'd chimed before rushing off, nearly face first into the wall of the hall as he took off.

You'd allowed yourself some indulgence, smiling fondly as you heard his steps fade into the quiet of the night. Shaking your head, you'd turned to pluck a few blankets of yours up off the mattress, tucking them under your arm gingerly. You would never admit to yourself the way that you could feel how much looser you'd gotten after that. You would never truly acknowledge and affirm how you could feel the smile on your lips and the quiet little starts of a purr in the back of your throat.

--[ extra shit kinda maybe a little i GUESS ]

With a last little stretch you finally settled, a sigh prying its way past your lips as you let yourself go limp. You could feel exhaustion way heavy in your limbs and behind your eyes, words and thought beginning to fail you as you focused what little you had left on other things. You'd focused on the smell of nicotine that clung onto the ratted shirt he wore, the beating of his heart and the way he carefully dragged his nails behind your ears in little lines and circles.

"Y'comfy?" He'd asked, half-registering how quiet and gentle his own voice sounded.

You'd nodded lightly, nudging just a touch closer to him as his breath hitched.

"Yeah, thanks Dei."

"'S nothing, goodnight."

"Night, love you."

He couldn't help the grin that broke out onto his face at those words.

[wishful-soda]

OMG Before I start talking I just wanna say that I haven't disappeared I actually did leave comments about last chapter idk what happend to that but whatever hahahah moving on also this has spoilers sooo 😗

THIS IS MY FAVOURITE CHAPTER. FAVOURITE. And this is coming from a person that is very indecisive. Holy shit.. THANK YOU FOR GIVING US THIS BEAUTIFUL STORY. The emotions that I've felt during this chapter.. I LITERALLY CRIED.. This is SO SO perfectly written. They really evolved from the beginning. And I'm not talking just about the statement friends. I'm talking about them ACTUALLY talking.

“Will you tell me about them? Your parents?” - I ALMOST FUCKING CRIED 🥺🥺🥺

The way she didn't even hesitate to tell him her story. That's growth. We would never see her do this few chapters ago. But now it just shows how much charecter development she had. She actually wanted to tell him about it. The way she couldn't said what she wanted and Daniel took her on his lap 🥰🥰🥰 that movement was so cute, hugging her and giving her the courage to continue.. It was on of the moments were my insides were melting.

Daniels little speech how he's so proud of her 🥺🥺🥺 im bawling my eyes at this point

THIGH RIDING 🥵🥵🥵 YOU DONT UNDERSTAND HOW LONG I WAS WAITING FOR THIS. HOLY SHIT IT WAS 100× BETTER THAN I EVER IMAGINED. WELL DONE

"that he’s noticed you for much longer than just these past few months, longer than just this season" this what I was saying for a while now. This man knows a lot more about her than she thinks. I'm so glad that we are finally at that point where he can confirm it, say it, give her a compliment and and not act all stupid, not say it as I joke. Actually mean it, every single word.

“You’ve got me right in the palm of your hand and you don’t even know it…”  ohhhhh he's soooooooo closeeee. Almost c'mon Daniel figured it out!!! You can do it!!!

So she rememebered saying to Max 'i think im falling in love with him' and she was waiting to feel panicky and horror because Max MIGHT POTENTIALLY know about them but she didnt felt panicky because she just kinda admitted that she is falling IN LOVE with HIM. Okay missy I see you.

I FUCKING KNEW IT!!! I FUCKING KNEW IT. I KNEW THAT DANIEL DOESNT HAVE TO DO ANYTHING WITH THAT ARTICLE. I've said this for last chaper and I'll say it again. I feel like Daniel wanted always to be her friend but then she was the one who started hating him and he was like better something then nothing so that's why he's been hating her. I feel like he doesn't really have any big reasons like she does. He was like if hating her, making fun of her, teasing her, making her life miserable means that I can be close to her then I'll take it. Better that than nothing. I feel this is exactly what happened.

“We did. Mutual hatred.” she just confirmed that they don't hate each other anymore. I don't think she even realized that 🤭 yes they said that they are friends but they never said that they dont hate each other anymore..

HOW COULD YOU END THE CHAPTER IN THAT I LITERALLY SCREAMED AND ITS 3AM I NEED TO KNOW.. I NEED NEXT CHAPTER ASAP... I SO DESPERATELY NEED TO KNOW WHY SHE SAID THAT (althought i might have hunch 😏)

Like I said this was SO PERFECT.. Loss of words honestly.. Also just wanted to say that I LOVED Max pov. That's something I didnt know I need it. i can't wait to reread it tomorrow and to come back if I noticed something new hahahaha. Thank you thank you thank you. I actually didn't expected this chapter to be published now and after the day we all had (looking at those mf from that team 😡) it was perfection. Hope you enjoyed my rant 😐🙃 lysm ❤❤❤❤

- introverted little bitch

Hi my dearest!!

I love hearing that it's your favorite chapter because it was one of my favorites to write!! I'm also so like...glad...that you cried? That sounds incredibly mean, but I don't mean it like that I promise!! I'm just so like...happy that my writing could invoke emotion like that? Y'know? I hope that makes sense and doesn't make me sound like a total bitch 😅

You're absolutely right, there's no way that she would have told him a few chapters ago. She would have been like 'fuck you gtfo' and resorted to being mean. I was a little worried that it was TOO cheesy and TOO soft and TOO over the top...? Maybe? I'm still worried I overdid it tbh.

I really loved writing his little speech about being proud of her, like honestly it felt genuine Daniel to me. I imagined how I'd feel being told similar things by Daniel and it made me feel like I was going to die so I ran with it.

I'M SO GLAD THE THIGH RIDING MET EXPECTATIONS BECAUSE I REWROTE IT SO MANY TIMES!!! AGGGHHH!!!

Also; YES bby. You 100% called it. He has paid attention to her all of this time because he's never actually hated her like she thought he has. How else is he supposed to respond to her hating him? Just ignore it? No way, he's going to play the game right back because like you said, it's better than nothing!

You're also onto something with the Max situation! She's not worried that it's true, she's just worried about others finding out!

PLEASE LET ME KNOW YOUR HUNCH. I live for the predictions. Seriously, please tell me!

I'm glad that you enjoyed the Max POV! It was so refreshing and fun to write, it felt like something new, flip the script y'know? I planned on doing it and kept forgetting and it just fit so well for this chapter I think. Like I could have written it from hers, but it felt so much better from his? Idk! I'm glad you liked it though!!

I ALWAYS enjoy your rants so please continue to send them in or send any asks at all because I love to hear from you 🥰 ILYSM!!!! ❤️❤️❤️ MUAH 😘😘😘

[grlsgen]

ohhh my god. okay so i’m at work rn and it’s definitely been a night so far

so i got high before work and it has stayed way longer than expected. my shift starts at 11 so about 10 i took a moderately sized dab while i was already high and it’s now 3am and i’m just now having it wear off. so my state of mind is important to the story

i come in and my coworkers start telling me about this guy who was harassing a guest earlier and was looking through her room’s window. and it happened a few hours before i came in and they said he hasn’t been back since so i did not care about it. like an hour into my shift i was chillin in the front desk’s back hallway and i saw somebody waving and hitting the glass door yelling Heyyy! at me. and it matched the description of the same window guy so i got freaked out and hid against the wall and called my male coworker working across the parking lot… but by the time he came over the guy was gone. we called the cops.. they came and he was nowhere in the parking lot so the cop called me and said there was nothing much they could do about the guy anyway because he’s not really doing anything illegal just bein fuckin weird. so whatever. a while later i’m still stoned and now paranoid and i see on the security cameras what i think is a man standing on the side of the building looking in the windows i freaked out again and called the cop back and halfway through the call i realized it was a lamp post and its shadow😭 but i had to keep playing it off like i saw him because that’s embarrassing. so anyways the cop left after he saw no one here. and at one point the guy came over here according to my coworker but i was at the vending machine down the hall so i didn’t hear or see him but he left i guess after he saw there was no one upfront. and i haven’t heard about him since

so anyways i don’t know if this is genuinely scary or if i overreacted so i told my Male Friend about it. and he’s like omfg you’re a wussy but i don’t think i was being dramatic. like this was a creepy situation right… and i mentioned he’s male because like a dude would handle this situation differently yknow. anyways idk if it was just because i was too high and freaking out about everything or if it was just another weirdo that always comes and goes around here and i flipped out about it. i’m just embarrassed because i was very clearly high to my coworkers and the police like that is embarrassing. i’ve been getting high at work lately but it’s been chill so it didn’t matter but this was embarrassing lmfaooo

[moonlit-mizukage]

Chapter Fifteen: 1am Joyride

Summary: Y/l/n Y/n, a third year at Sakura High School, is just a girl with a bad attitude towards anyone outside her small circle. When y/n’s younger sister starts first year, she gains a lot of attention. Unfortunately for everyone in school, the Y/l/n household has one rule, No dating till y/n does. Some people become just desperate enough to pay the leader of the “Monsters”, the trouble making group on campus, to date y/n. What will happen when she finds out? (All characters aged up to third year unless otherwise stated)

TW: Swearing, mentions of violence, implied past abuse, parents not loving their children, abandonment, foster care, jail, death 

AN: THIS CHAP IS A BACK STORY SO IF YOU ARE UNCOMFY I WILL POST A SMALL LINE FROM THEN END OF THISON THE NEXT ONE AS WELL!!! Sorry as well for not updating lots. Yeah girl has been dissociating so much and losing days. I blinked and now its friday at almost 3am. My  even closes as well on the 21st so if you want to participate please check out this Prompt list!!

Word Count: 1.2K

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Y/N POV 

I heard the rev of Tendou’s motorbike outside my window. I grabbed my jacket and Climbed out my open window.  I took the lightest steps I could around and passed Mei’s window. I grabbed the tree and started to climb down. I walked up to Tendou. 

“You look hot when you are angry babe.” 

“Gross, let’s just get out of here.” I grabbed the helmet from his hands as I climbed on the back. 

We rode down the rural neighbourhoods of the city. I never felt more relaxed than I did in that moment, my arms wrapped around him, the wind blowing on my body  as we rode off. I wanted this moment to last. We soon stopped as Tendou reached for his helmet. 

“This is my thinking spot. It’s usually quiet this time of night.” I took my helmet off and stepped off the bike. 

“I didn’t expect you to be of all people to need a thinking spot. Though you just Monster listed them.” 

“Unfortunately there's things the Monsters can’t always help with.” The atmosphere around him seemed to change to somewhat of a depressing vibe. 

“I really liked being on the bike. I didn’t even notice we ended up going up a hill to this lookout point.” 

“I knew you’d be distracted once you got to touch me.” He said with a wink as he pulled me into his arms. Our lips almost touched as he whispered. “Everytime I see you, you get more beautiful.” 

“Gross.” I whispered back as we both went in for a kiss..

Tendou’s phone startled us as he pulled away.

“What is it?” He asked as he answered the phone. A few minutes of silence passed. 

“No, I am at the lookout point. Can’t he just lie like he always does?” A deep sigh came from him as he heard the response. 

“Just give him my special stash and tell him to give it to her only if she won't come back. Shes a fucking bitch anyways. No one is at a loss by this. What’s a few couple hundred to get a forever problem solved?” Tendou laughed at whoever was on the other side of the phone and hung up.

“Sorry Y/n. Monster shit never stops when Teru”s one time hook ups won’t stop coming back.” 

“I don’t understand why you covered his ass. He’s going to act like a pig. He should deal with it on his own.” I slapped a hand over my mouth “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.” 

“I know you aren’t the only one who sees it that way but Teru and Mad have been here for me always. We used to be little brats back in our elementary days too. Teru was actually a Quiet little devil at first. I do admit we definitely have opposite opinions on girls' purpose. He did watch his mom go through boys every other day some new guy railing her in the kitchen when he got home from school. His mom told him if the sex isn’t an 10 then they are not worth it” 

“How would he even know what a 10 is?’’ 

“I think he just does it to feel some kind of connection to a girl. In hope’s to find ‘The one’, he just wants to be loved and accepted by someone. He knows he's got us but he’s never felt loved by his mom, doesn’t even know who his dad is.” 

“I had no idea, I feel terrible now” I said back to him. He pulled me closer to him again as he rested on the rail. 

“He’s honestly such a good guy. All four of them are. Mad gets in a lot of fights because that's all he knew his entire childhood from his 3 older brothers used to fight him. His dad was about the same in that sense too. The reason he always punches instead of thinks before he acts is that is what he's been taught. He moved out of his house at 16 after we got some income and met the other two. Started to raise some hell in our school you know?” 

“It makes sense why he always tries to fight everyone then.”I said back.

“Hanamaki though is a rich kid whose parents would rather pretend he doesn’t exist. He lived with his grandma on the other side of Tokyo till she passed away in the last year of middle school. Now they buy him whatever he wants while they live who knows where in the world. Him and Matsukawa have been friends since elementary though, Matsun even followed him to Highschool cause he got expelled the last day of school for setting a classroom on fire smoking too close to some curtains. Matsukawa though also didn’t have a good upbringing. His mom left him at 2 years old outside a random house with a note saying she never wanted him. It took 4 years for him to find his father, by then the kid already had some damage because of the system. His dad worked too much to see it for himself though. That just made his choice to move in with Maki much easier for him. That's how we all kinda met though, our broken homes.” Tendou finished, as he turned away and looked out at the view. 

“What’s your story Satori?” I asked him. 

“My father’s in jail, my mother is dead.” 

“Holy shit, I am so sorry Satori.” 

“I spent most of my childhood jumping from foster home to foster home. I was a demon spawn though. Always making sure they would move me around. Getting my nickname Guess Monster cause no one knew what I would do next. I live with my grandma now.” He said.

“I am sorry I always called you the second biggest asshole on earth. I had no idea.” He just laughed knowing I meant Oikawa as number one. 

 “And how about you y/n? What’s your story?”

“Um, my mom left us for a guy in Paris when I was young. I was basically raising Mei as my child, with my father being a doctor he's usually never home. Well till I started dipping on her for Oikawa. Now she hates my guts and my father spoils her so much cause he feels bad about missing out so much.” 

“Wait Oikawa? I thought you always hated him” He said. I began to explain to him the same story I had told Mei earlier the night. “I always knew he was a piece of shit.” 

“If only Mei did. That’s why we fought too.” Tendou pulled me in closer again. He smiled at me as he gave his signature smile. 

“It’s nice to have someone to trust outside of my circle again.” He pulled me into a passionate kiss….

The night continued for a bit longer as he brought me back home once again. I got off his bike and looked down at him as he took his helmet off and stood up. 

“Satori.” 

“Yes Y/n?”

“You were right, I did fall for you.” With that I placed a passionate kiss on his lips again. I pulled away and turned around to begin to climb back into my house...

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An: My mobile tumblr wont let my fix things so links on all “next” buttons will be fixed when it stops being this T^T

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