#ty for the ask! thinking about this one got me through most of my shift at work

[new-eyes-extra-colors]

👻💢💤💐🌙☀️🌌🍼✏️🔫

Thank you for the ask!! For sole survivor Nora Navarre:

💢 ANGER answered here!

👻 GHOST - do they believe in ghosts? what are their “ghostly experiences”, if any?

Nora emphatically does not believe in ghosts, psychics, or the supernatural. A few of her companions, notably Nick and Deacon, point out that there's plenty of stuff out in the Commonwealth that's arguably weirder than ghosts and it would be silly to discount that sort of thing wholesale and--frankly--arbitrarily, but she's stubborn.

Meeting the Fog Mother is... quite an experience for her.

💤 SLEEPING - do they fall asleep easily? what helps them sleep?

Nora suffers from insomnia and struggles with sleeping restfully and regularly. She listens to the radio turned down low, or tuned to static for white noise. When her husband was still alive, he would rub her back to help her sleep. (Later, Nick does the same thing.)

💐 BOUQUET - create a bouqet for them! what do those flowers mean? are any of the flowers their particular favourite?

Daffodil, calla lily, moonflower, zinnia, forget-me-nots, sunflower, and morning glory.

Daffodils for spring and new beginnings, calla lillies for life (and death), moonflowers for the night/darkness (the safest time for a Railroad agent to operate), and zinnias and forget-me-nots for remembering absent loved ones. Sunflowers are too big for a bouquet, but they remove harmful pollutants and radiation from soil by absorbing it through their roots, and of course resemble the sun. Morning glories because she likes them; they're her favorite of the bunch. She grew them along the fence behind her home in Sanctuary.

🌙 MOON - what is your oc’s greatest wish? how far are they willing to go for it?

More than anything, Nora wants Shaun back. She is willing to go very, very far to that end--and tells herself that no matter what, she'll be satisfied if she can find the truth.

☀️ SUN - are they a morning person? what is the first thing they do in the morning?

Nora's dead to the world until her first cup of coffee or tea in the morning, but brushing and rebraiding her hair is her first priority.

🌌 MILKY WAY - what was the inspiration behind your oc? what was the first thing you decided about them?

Actually, when I first started playing FO4, I played as the male sole survivor, and so I thought of Nora originally as a background character who was only relevant as far as he knew her. Then I got like 20 hours in, realized how many other characters had dead wives, and went "okay, I'm playing the lady character now."

So the first thing I decided was her appearance. I had an idea of what she looked like before but didn't draw her until I switched protagonists. She's changed a little since my initial drawings of her back in late 2020, but the angular features, long hair, dark skin, and freckles are the same. Compare and contrast:

It's cool to see how she's changed over the last two and a half years (and how my art has improved--I think it's more consistent and less rigid).

As far as inspiration, I pulled some of her personality--the toughness and determination combined with a love of dressing up and looking nice--from stories my grandmother told me of her grandmother.

🍼 BABY BOTTLE - what are their thoughts on children?

Before having Shaun, Nora was ambivalent about children. She's always been good with them, as a lot of the responsibility for her two younger sisters fell on her when she was a teenager. But she didn't want any of her own.

After Shaun, and while she's searching for him, she dotes on children she meets in her travels, especially Duncan MacCready. She would like to do the same for Nat Wright, but Nat doesn't let her.

✏️ PENCIL - is there a particular quote / lyric that you associate with them?

Quote: "A mother’s love for her child is like nothing else in the world. It knows no law, no pity. It dares all things and crushes down remorselessly all that stands in its path." --Agatha Christie, The Last Seance

Lyric: "Illuminate my way with bricks of yellow / a painted road to follow fallen hallows / and through the forest haunted / I sojourn forward dauntless for I know / I've no place like a home." --Dirt Poor Robins, "Wax Cylinder Sonata"

🔫 PISTOL - do they trust people easily? how easily will they turn their back to someone? have they been backstabbed before? will they betray someone if given an ultimatum?

When she first wakes up in the Commonwealth, she's in a situation where she can't help but trust complete strangers (Preston, Danse, Piper, and Nick), because there is no way she'd be able to navigate this new and unfamiliar world on her own. On the other hand--this is a new and unfamiliar world, and she has zero context for anything. She's completely out of her element, and doesn't want to trust because of that. So she's quite conflicted for a while.

After she gets her bearings, she doesn't trust easily, but she is willing, and willing to give people second chances as well, depending on the circumstances.

Nora would never intentionally/willingly betray a friend or loved one, though if given an ultimatum she may try to deceive the one giving it to her into thinking she's going along with it. (In my fic, this is basically what happens with the Railroad and Institute--Nora convinces the Directorate to let the Railroad and Brotherhood fight it out instead of getting the Institute involved in a direct conflict. It doesn't go the way she plans.)

[softspiderling]

i’ll run my fingers through your hair | j.v

synopsis: jace + modern au + hair

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x reader

word count: 1,1k

author’s note: just a little not very serious drabble/mini fic about you tying jace’s hair in a pony… bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it during work. unedited, written on a whim in like 20 minutes on my phone… @eldrith put the gun away. also football ✅⚽️ not ❌🏈

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ever since Jace had grown his hair out he had only seen positive changes his new hair cut had brought in his life. He had gotten tons of compliments (from friends, family AND strangers), questions about his “hair care routine” (water, shampoo and leave in conditioner… was that enough steps to call it a routine?) and of course, the way you were tugging on it whenever he was between your legs. That, he enjoyed particularly.

In all the upsides, he had never thought there would be downsides as well. Clearly, he completely forgot about the football season.

The last games had already been over before his hair started curling around his ears, the process of growing it out taking longer than expected. But now that training was back on, he had been struggling with his curls sticking to the back of his neck or falling into his face while he sprinted across the field and Jace actually started contemplating getting it cut before the first game.

“Don’t you dare,Jacaerys Targaryen.”

Jace flinched when you full-named him, quickly locking his phone, the hair dresser’s online appointment website fading to black. You only ever full-named him when you were serious about something. He hadnt realized you were so invested in his hair.

“I wasn’t gonna get it all chopped of!” he insisted. “Only like a trim maybe.”

“Absolutely not.”

“But babe,” he whined, his lower lip jutting out in a pout, one of his most used weapons to try to get his way with you. “This season’s so important, and I can’t be distracted by hair.”

It was his first year starting as captain of the Dragons, the last thing he needed was being distracted by his hair, He would not lose because of vanity.

“There are less drastic ways than cutting your beautiful hair off!”

You ran your fingers through his brown locks, your nails scratching against his scalp and Jace nearly melted into the couch, his eyes rolling to the back of his head.

“Like what?”

His words sounded breathless when he spoke and you were grinning when you climbed over the back of the couch, plopping yourself next to him.

“Come down here and I’ll show you,” you said, gesturing to the floor in front of you. Jace sighed, but did as you asked anyways, folding his legs under himself. He leaned back against the couch as you combed through his hair with your hand, making his eyes flutter closed. His muscles automatically relaxed as soon as you put your hands into his hair, it was like magic.

“- half-up half-down…Hey, are you even listening to me?”

“Hm?”

“If you’re not gonna listen when I’m trying to help you-!”

“Okay, okay, I’m listening, sorry!” Jace reached back to curl his hand around your wrist, bringing it forward to place a kiss on the back of your hand. “You said something about half-up half-down…?”

You huffed.

“I need my hand back, Jace.”

Jace let go of your wrist and you sectioned his hair off with your fingers, tugging on it a little, as he shifted on the floor, before tying his hair off with an elastic.

“Look at it.”

Jace grabbed his phone, opening the camera on it to look at himself, the upper half of his hair now pulled back in a small pony, leaving his face free of his hair. For some reason, he had never thought about tying his hair off.

“Isn’t that… Girly?” he asked,

You gave him a look.

“Your father had the same hairstyle for your mother’s birthday last month. I think we can both agree on the fact that your father is not girly.”

Jace let out a huff, settling back against the couch. He did not like how lilty your voice got whenever you talked about his dad. He looked at the camera again, starting to get used to it.

“Doesn’t look half bad,” he admitted, looking at his hair from all angles. “What if I can’t tie it properly though and it’ll just unravel in the middle of the game? I think that might be even worse than just starting with my hair untied.”

“If you can’t do it yourself, I’ll do it for you,” you said, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Hm,” Jace hummed, tilting his phone to snap a picture of the two of you, your laugh echoing in his ears.

Said picture now was opened on his phone, as Jace tried to use it as a reference to tie his hair off. The first game of the season was about to start, and the whole team was in a frenzy. This was usually the opportunity Jace used to give his team mates a pep talk, rally them around, but he was too busy fighting with his hair and his vice-captain Cregan was still in the showers, taking his ritualistic ice bath (yes, he was superstitious; when they lost 3:4 against the White Walkers, Cregan insisted it was because he didn’t have time to take his ice bath, Jace knew it was because Addam had been out injured and Aegon had taken his place in the squad).

“Shit, how the fuck did she do it?” Jace muttered, bringing the hair tie around his hair, glancing between the reference picture and the mirror.

“Hey Cap, the cheerleaders are starting in ten minutes so we should be out in five, are you done fixing up your hair?” Ulf asked, stepping way into Jace’s personal space, despite Jace telling numerous times to fuck off.

“Shut up,” Jace huffed, his eye twitching in annoyance when his phone screen darkened. “Do me a favor and go get my girl from the stands.”

“Ooh what, the big ol’ Prince can’t start the game without seeing his ‘wittle girlfriend?” Ulf cackled, but his grin soon faded when Jace turned around to glare at him, his hand still around his hair.

“Do you want to start off the season on the bench, White?”

“Sorry Cap, I’ll go get your girl right away.”

Ulf scampered off with his tail between his legs and Jace sighed, letting go of his hair.

“Cregan, you’ve got about one minute to get your ass out of the ice bath before I replace you with Aemond!”

“I’ll be right out, Jace!”

“We better win this goddamned game,” Jace muttered to your smiling face on his phone.

They won 5:2.

But their victory was only a byline in the uni’s paper the following week, a picture of Jace’s half-up half-down hairstyle taking up half of the front page.

DRAGONS’ CAPTAIN GRACING THE FIELD WITH NEW HAIRSTYLE!

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author’s note: don’t forget to leave a comment if you liked it🫶🏼

[lovebugism]

Random conversations with rockstar eddie while high that obviously lead to something dirty 👀

ty for requesting :D — eddie asks you who you'd most want to have a threesome with and confessions are shared (band!au, established relationship, mentions of weed and smut 18+, 1.2k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

It started out all cute, in your defense. 

The tour bus was parked in Colorado for the next couple of nights, and the mountains and trees were aflame with a very distinct golden color. You and Eddie chose to bask in the orange while the rest of the band spent the evening in the hotel.

Your night alone was an innocent one — despite the cheeky taunts and whistles from the rest of Corroded Coffin. Squished together in your bunk, the two of you got high and proceeded to talk about everything and nothing all at once. 

You share one pillow, noses mere inches apart, just barely fitting together on the small mattress. The skunky smell of weed and Eddie’s musky cologne is all-consuming, suffocating in the best way. 

Your poorly concealed giggles fill the silence of the bus as you press your palm against Eddie’s pale one, comparing the size difference between the two. It shouldn’t amuse you as much as it does.

“Would you still love me if Roger Taylor asked you out?” Eddie blurts, growing suddenly serious about the question that only just popped into his mind. 

He hadn’t meant to say it out loud. He thought it, and the words just sorta spilled from his mouth.

Your brows pinch at the sudden question, though there’s still a small smile on your face. You can’t be sure where he’s coming from — if it’s the weed or if he remembers the one time you very drunkenly confessed to having a decade-long obsession with the blonde-haired drummer in your girlhood.

“What?” you wonder, still giggling.

“I mean, like, if he showed up to one of our shows and asked you out, would you say yes?”

You ponder the question. For a few seconds too long, maybe. Mostly because it takes you a little while to understand him through the brain fog.

“Well… no,” you answer finally, voice wavering as your eyes flit to the darkened ceiling.

“No?”

“No,” you repeat, more firmly this time. Your gaze returns to his chocolate one, made a darker shade from the black night — they sparkle, still. A grin blooms on your face. “But I think if you really loved me, you’d let me fuck him. Just one time.”

You’re obviously kidding. It’s just a stupid joke made more evident by the dumb, lopsided smile on your face and the pointer finger you hold up to your nose.

Eddie knows this, and he’s sporting his own rosy grin accordingly. A fleeting thought sears his brain. It bubbles up in his throat and tumbles out before he can stop it.

“Only if I get to watch,” he retorts, all boyish and quiet. 

It’s hard to tell if he’s joking or not. But then again, it usually is. You decide to toe the line, anyway. “Really?” you hum, shifting on the mattress to face him more intently.

The boy shrugs while you smooth ornery curls from his temple. “Yeah. You’re hot. He’s hot. One plus one equals two… Or whatever that expression is.”

“Fair,” you concede, laughing still.

“Alright. Your turn.”

“My turn?”

“Mhmm,” he nods sloppily against the pillow. “Who would you wanna have a threesome with? Like, in a different universe or whatever, ‘cause I don’t think I’m strong enough to share you in real life.”

Again, you giggle. You can’t seem to stop, apparently. You answer quicker than either of you expect.

“Umm… Maybe Nancy,” you answer with a strange sort of nonchalance. “She’s hot… And also she looks like she slaps really hard.”

Eddie’s brain goes blank. And not from the weed this time.

He knew Nancy. Vaguely. Mostly from you. She’s your old friend from high school that you reconnect with every couple of months. You don’t talk crazy often — ‘cause life is too busy for an up-and-coming rockstar and Indiana’s best journalist — but the connection is never truly lost.

And it’s not just that you chose Nancy without having to think about it very hard. He just wasn’t expecting it to be someone you knew in real life. Someone so tangible. That Roger Taylor scenario would only ever happen in wet dreams — his, namely — but Nancy Wheeler? That could be arranged.

The thought alone has him reeling.

You watch him get in his head about the whole thing, though maybe the faraway look in his eyes is just from the weed.

“Well?” you press with an urging lilt and a girlish grin. “You’re turn, Eds. Don’t leave me hangin’ here.”

He goes quiet, which is very unlike your loudmouth boy. He thinks before he speaks, measures his reply before he answers. His absentminded fingers trace up and down the length of your arm all the while, leaving prickling goosebumps in their wake.

“What about Steve?” he wonders with a painfully nonchalant inflection.

Your face screws up instantaneously. You don’t mean to act as shocked as you do, but you can’t help it. “Steve?” you blurt, louder than you meant to. “Like… Steve Steve?”

As in your ex-boyfriend Steve.

As in one of his best friends Steve.

As in roommate Steve the couple weeks out of the year you two aren’t on the road.

It makes your head spin something fierce.

“There another Steve I don’t know about?” Eddie jokes.

Brows still pinched and face still twisted, you question, “So you wanna… fuck Steve? Like, Steve The Hair Harrington?”

“You did,” the boy shrugs, then fakes a soft pout. “Sometimes I feel left out…”

You press your palm to his chest, pushing him playfully away. His arm curls around your back to pull you close again. The proximity is lesser now, so much so that the tips of your nose brush together and your skunky breaths entwine.

It all feels so much heavier now. The intensity of the moment makes you fight back a shiver crawling up your spine. Eddie’s palm smooths up and down the length of it in a slow and measured rhythm. It does little to ease your breathlessness.

“I don’t know. I just think it could be fun,” the boy concludes with a sudden seriousness. His voice is as low as his eyelids. “And I think it’d be real hot to watch him fuck you… ‘Cause we both know he can’t make you cum like I can. Can he, doll?”

Your thighs clench together instinctually, as though to quell the sudden ache pounding between them. You nod slowly, wordlessly.

Eddie’s rosy lips quirk in a cheeky half-smile at your honeyed reaction. He continues — half because the high has loosened his tongue and half because he wants to see how flustered he can make you.

“And then he can watch you fall apart on my dick after, yeah?” he questions like you’re in any space to answer him. “Maybe I can give him a few pointers… Teach him how to fuck you properly, you know?”

The distant ache between your thighs has grown to a full bloom now. It’s a little embarrassing how effortlessly he can drive you crazy — how quickly he can make you drench your panties. You might’ve been a little shameful about it if you couldn’t feel his cock stiffening against your hip.

“Fuck, Eds…” you sigh, the words tumbling from your mouth without thinking. 

With parted lips, you drift towards the boy and his unkissed mouth. He juts his chin slightly backward, only lets your plush bottom lips graze together. You don’t know why he’s teasing you. You’re already a puddle at his feet.

With a smirk and an all-consuming touch along your spine, he makes a quiet promise. “And maybe, if you’re real good, you can watch me fuck him, too…”

[love-bitesx]

: ̗̀➛ PROTECTOR. hobie brown x reader

summary: spider-man makes a point of walking y/n home every night, but after befriending them as hobie brown as well, his feelings get complicated. words: 3.5k REQUESTS OPEN ! warnings: non-explicit sexual harassment (a man is very creepy to reader), reader isn't gendered! but be aware, author is female, so possible afab bias, i tried my hardest i swear. all characters are adults :) author is british so this is my interpretation of his silly little slang from what ive experienced hehe also divider credit: cafekitsune a/n: may feel a little ooc, but in my headcanon, when he's pining the way he is for reader, he's so soft. also, spider-man and hobie r completely different personalities u cant tell me otherwise. first time writing hobie so pls give me opinions ty. enjoy!!!!!

“is it home-time already, darlin’?”

there he was. the familiarity of routine washing over you, turning your head to see him propped up against the brick, spikes on display and guitar pick flipping in between his clothed fingers.

“spider-man, my hero,” you sighed and clutched your non-existent pearls, a smirk on your lips.

“you know i hate that,” kicking off from the wall of the pub you just clocked out of, he stuffed his hands into his patched up jacket, his bouncy stride meeting yours on the pavement.

“i know,” you smiled, allowing your bag to fall from your shoulders and into his outstretched hand, as always.

it had become a routine, over the course of a few months, that the one-and-only spider-man would escort you home from work in the late hours. at first, it didn’t seem real. why would he decide to spend valuable time most days walking you home, when he could be out fighting whatever darkness lurks in the shadows? you’ve asked him, almost every time, but he always gives the same, vague answer;

“who else is gonna keep you safe, love?”

his legs were longer than yours, by a mile. so he had to slow his usual pace for you. naturally bouncy, his booted feet tapped against the pavement like a kick drum, and you wondered whether that was the radioactive blood in his veins, or his natural energy.

laughter flittered through the dark streets as you caught up, it had only been a day since you last saw him, but being a crime-fighting, fascist-killing superhero, there was quite a lot to pack into a 24 hour day.

he bounced off the walls of passing buildings, recreating his fights with the air that hung between you both, throwing in some exaggerated punches here and there, to elicit an extra giggle or two from you. you almost got lost following his animated recreations, but he kept an eye out for the roads ahead. he’d memorised all the paths leading to your apartment.

it had all started a few months prior, after a particularly long shift at work. constantly over the span of a few hours, this guy would not leave you alone. no matter how many times you refused his advances, a smile on your face, masking the unsettling pit in your stomach at the sight of his grin. drink, after drink, after drink, he ordered just to stare at you the whole night, crude gestures and words thrown your way.

you’d gotten used to it, working at a pub in the depths of london, it wasn’t ever unusual to get unwanted advances. but something about this guy, you couldn’t shake it. ~

“what time do you finish, ay?” his accent was thick, you placed him somewhere up north.

“i’m not sure,” you muttered back, forcing a smile.

“oi, come on! ‘course you know what time you finish,” his words were slurred, and his eyes hadn’t left yours once, “was thinking we could ‘ave some drinks together, tha’s’all.”

“sorry, i can’t tonight, i have to be up early tomorrow,” you giggled, and if he wasn’t so drunk, he’d definitely have picked up on the nerves lacing your words.

“come on,” vowels drawn out, he made an attempt to stand up to meet your height, the proximity of him sending a shock of fear to your heart, until a strong hand clapped against his chest, the force almost sending him backwards.

“pack it in, dickhead, they said ‘no’,” a deep, almost calming voice spoke, contrasted completely with the stern, threatening tone of his words.

you looked to meet your protectors gaze, and it almost stunned you. he was tall, taller than you, for sure. dark, smooth skin with an aura of pure mayhem, silver piercings protruding from his face. adorned with a ripped, skin-tight plain top and denim vest, littered with badges, patches and just about any accessory known to man.

his eyes were what really held you. a heavy look, dark brown with the most unique feeling of strength and power that you’d ever seen. you could’ve easily gotten lost.

deciding you’d stared at him long enough, though, you broke the eye contact, diverting it back to the man who looked a humorous combination of terrified and offended at the same time.

“‘s alright mate, we were just talking, back off, yeah?” his liquid courage built up, ignorant of the taller man’s hand still pushing against his chest, ring-clad hands seeming to leave an imprint.

“think it’s time for you to leave, mate,” he spat back, mimicking his slang.

a moment of silence followed. you’d fully expected the drunken creep to swing a punch, or at least bite back, but under the weight of the taller man’s stare, he seemed to lose all fight he had in him. with a final murmer of something you couldn’t quite hear, and unsure you really wanted to, he stumbled backwards, slipping into the crowd.

“thank you,” you broke the silence, to which the man shrugged.

“he was a pig,” he brushed it off like nothing, and you couldn’t help but smile at his attitude. raising his newly free hand, he stretched it towards you, tight in a fist.

“hobie, hobie brown,” he greeted, and his accent completely erased the ‘h’ from his name.

“y/n l/n,” you smiled, accepting his offer and spudding him, the cold metal of his rings against your knuckles. you couldn’t help but grin at the oddity of his presence.

hobie kept you company for the rest of the night, ranting about his thoughts and opinions of various important subjects, ranging widely from drinks of choice to the existence of capitalist propaganda in modern media, all of which you hung onto every word of.

it wasn’t long until he’d managed to book him and his band into a few slots on the pub’s makeshift stage that stood empty on the other side of the room, smiling to himself at how authentically excited you seemed to hear his music.

when he left, his vacancy was immediately obvious. the booming pub feeling oddly silent without him.

after closing up for the night, you grabbed your bag and slung it over your shoulder, switching the lights off with one hand and fiddling with the keys in the other, shaking the door to double check you locked it well enough. body aching from being on your feet all day, you yawned, stepping autopilot into the darkness. the night air was chilling, causing you to wrap your jacket tight around your body. cursing at yourself for not bringing another layer, or pre-ordering a taxi home.

“oi,” you heard from your right, turning quickly to the familiar call.

stumbling on the pavement, the drunken creep from earlier pointed towards you.

shit.

you hadn’t expected him to actually wait for you. it’d been hours since he left, he was insane. what was he thinking?

grabbing the keys from your pocket, you gripped them in your freezing hands in defense.

“where’s your little friend, huh?” he spat, clearly enraged by hobie’s interruption earlier. he stepped closer, and you stepped back, trembling as you tripped slightly on the pavement.

“ay, is this twat bothering you?” a voice called from above.

wait, above?

craning your neck up, you made eye contact with possibly the last person you expected.

“spider-man?”

and from that night, he’d met you every time. waiting outside the pub doors, no exception, to walk you home.

“hey!” spider-man’s upbeat calling snapped you instantly back to him, jumping slightly as you finally noticed he was directly in front of your face, white eyes narrowed on your demeanor, “where’d you go, huh?”

“sorry,” paying him an apologetic smile, “just thinking.”

“wanna clue me in, darlin’?” his tone was playful, but the soften of his masks expression felt genuine.

“just thinking about the day i’ve had,” you lied, unsure whether his spidey senses could tell. not that it was rare for you to think about how you met, but you didn’t want to bring it up again. if he could tell, he didn’t let on.

“whataboutit?” he sped up, slipping back to your pace and slinging his lanky arm over your shoulders, basically hanging onto you as you walked. he liked walking with you like this. it made him feel powerful, like he was keeping you extra safe.

“hobie’s band played again!” you exclaimed, and if he’d been paying attention, he would’ve seen the way your face lit up at the memory. unfortunately for him, his eyes were trained on webbing a chocolate bar from a passing vendor. god knows why it was still open, but he was glad it was.

“hobie, again, huh?” taunted spider-man, punching your arm playfully with the fist that gripped the newly stolen snickers bar, “starting to think you’re replacing me, love.”

“never,” you teased back, elbowing his side, hearing the jingle of his badged vest, “hobie’s just…”

ears pricking, he clung onto the words you were speaking, anticipating possibly hearing something he didn’t want to.

“he’s just so cool,” you breathed with a smile, and he almost verbally sighed in relief, stopping himself in order not to rouse suspicion. he smirked under his mask, “just got this feel about him, so easy to talk to, and he’s so talented! you know, i’ve almost learnt all the lyrics to his songs.”

his heart just about exploded. in fact, he thinks he could pinpoint the exact moment it did.

he played off his burning cheeks, clearing his throat and incredibly glad his mask hid his flustered expression.

“you should come see him, you know,” you looked up at him, and though you knew his answer was ‘no’, it was worth a try, “i can hide you in the back if you don’t wanna be seen.”

“come off it, love,” he dismissed, avoiding your gaze, but his back was tingling like pins and needles under the warmth of it, “i’m not keen to meet the man stealing you from me.”

“fuck sake,” you laughed and pushed his arm off you, brushing off his playful flirting.

his confidence was excelling. the friendship you had formed over the prior months had stemmed from his childish charm, and it hadn’t faltered once.

“well, here i am,” you brought your pace to a halt, hovering in front of the door to your apartment building.

“i’ll miss you tonight,” he fell against the wall, eyes stuck on you. you couldn’t see it, but you could feel his smirk.

“i’ll see you tomorrow, i finish at 11,” you stepped towards him.

“i’ll be waiting,” he kicked off from the bricks, raising his hand to ruffle your hair, much to your protest, before practically disappearing in front of your eyes.

you were left grinning to yourself, much like every night.

“what’s up, bruv?” hobie’s friend elbowed him harshly in the ribs, causing him to rip his eyes from you.

“nothing,” he huffed, but by the lack of sustenance and playfulness in his reply, his friend was less than satisfied. hobie was a carefree, reckless guy with a constant spurt of irony, and seeing him with a sullen expression and no bite back, was worrying.

“come off it, hobie,” another one piped up, sitting across from him with an empty pint in one hand and cigarette in the other, pointing the latter in his face. he huffed, “you’ve been slumping for like 3 months now, and you’ve only been writing sappy love songs.”

the table snickered, and even hobie’s lips curled into a smirk. his friend was right, he wasn’t even nearly like his usual self. he blames you for that.

“who is it then, huh?” his friend pushed, cigarette still hanging in front of hobie’s face, ash crumbling off the end, “has our ol’ hobie brown got himself a partner?”

“oi, you know i hate labels,” he smirked again, knowing he was lying. not that he didn’t usually hate them, but he couldn’t avoid the fact that every time you made your way to the front of his mind, he was urged to call you his. his partner. his person. his love. just his.

he always did hate consistency, anyway.

“another round, guys?” your voice ripped him from his thoughts, your scent somehow drifting above the sticky smell of beer and cigarettes, he pinned that down to his spider abilities, but he’d be a fool to ignore that he had simply just memorised the aroma.

“please, darlin’,” hobie’s friends chirped up, grinning at you thankfully. he cursed the burning feeling in his chest.

“i could do you guys a deal,” you smirked playfully, and he looked up to meet your eyes. you looked beautiful tonight, like usual. he was fucked.

“if you lot give us a song, it’ll be on the house,” you smiled hopefully, taking note of their usual orders just incase they agree.

“sounds like a plan,” hobie reached his hand out to you, open for a handshake, to which you took. soft hands falling into his calloused ones, he couldn’t help but notice how nice it felt.

turning away, you left to get their usual set up sorted, feeling him still watching you, to which you threw him a smile over your shoulder.

it wasn’t unusual at all. his eyes would always find you. at the table with his mates, his gaze would swim through the crowd to yours. even on stage, lost in the moment with himself and his guitar, it was you he always found his eyes trailing back to. it wasn’t like the other men in the bar, it wasn’t predatory desire or lust, but it was warm. it was safe.

he had three options, really; confess himself to you as hobie brown, coming clean about the way he felt about you, the warmth in his heart that spread across his spine whenever you smiled at him, eventually having to come clean about his alter-ego. he could confess as spider-man, to which he’d have to come clean about his actual identity. or option three. stay silent and suffer in his own pity. bite his lip and pretend his heart wasn’t yearning for you.

but, he prided himself in being able to speak his mind without hesitation. confident in his word, suffocated in his silence. he would always say: if he ever bit his tongue, to kill him there and then. well, here he is; begging for mercy at the barrel, his tongue bleeding from keeping his heart locked in his chest.

he was fucked. well and truly.

“anything special happen today?” spider-man nudged you, taking a worried note of your unusual quietness recently. it was the same night, he’d picked you up like normal, and hopped along beside you.

“the band played again,” a swelling smile bloomed on your lips, “other than that, not really.”

your voice was hollow tonight. easily mistakable with your naturally soft tone, but to his trained ears, it didn’t feel right.

stopping immediately in his path, his bouncy steps ceasing, you quickly copied him. confusion slipping behind your eyes.

“what’s up?” you questioned.

“you know you wanna tell me,” he stepped around you, arms falling over your shoulders from behind, heavy with his full weight. something about the mask, it gave him a confidence with you that he’d quenched as hobie.

you sighed and rested your head back against his chest, taking him by surprise. there was something intimate about the way your eyes were closed, body resting against him. your brain was hectic, he didn’t need his spidey senses to see that.

“there’s just…” you spoke, eyelids feeling heavy as you opened them, looking up to see him. head split in two, you were unsure if you even wanted to say it out loud, “there’s this guy.”

it was almost cruel how fast his heart dropped, plummeting like a boulder into the pit of his stomach. body stiffening, his head was spinning so fast he didn’t even have the conscience to mask it.

“i just can’t get him out of my head, it’s so stupid,” if your wistful look wasn’t answer enough, the outpour of dissonance he could feel from your body told him it was serious.

“not another fella tryna steal you from me,” he chuckled, but his voice was weak, vulnerable. you hadn’t heard it like that before.

untangling yourself from his weighted grip, you leant against the wall of the building you were stood in front of, staring up into the night sky. there was something so embarrassing about admitting a silly little crush.

“not another one, technically,” you spoke softly, a hint of a smile tickling your lips at the thought of him, he stepped closer, “i’ve already told you about him.”

and he stopped dead in his tracks. mind racing a million miles an hour, picking apart every word you said. was he stupid? was he reaching? seeing something that wasn’t there? he was the only one you’d spoken about, but surely not, right?

shifting closer again, his body begun to feel the heat radiating off you, barely an inch between you both. he towered you, as always, the spikes on his jacket and mask hitting the streetlights perfectly, giving him an orange glow. you bought yourself to look at him, and though you couldn’t see the eyes beneath, you felt his gaze.

insufferably close, closer than you’ve ever been, you could feel your heart in your chest. a tension that you hadn’t quite felt before, bubbling in the air between you.

“say his name, love,” his voice was low, lower than normal, and a twinge of familiarity hit your chest hearing the deeper tone, one you couldn’t quite pinpoint. chills dripped down your spine at the new found feeling.

gulping, you could feel his name in your throat, struggling it’s way out.

“hobie.” your voice was barely above a whisper, but considering he almost had you pressed against the brick, he heard every syllable. and god, did it sound good.

“again?” he croaked, just wanting to confirm, needing to hear it again, needing to hear you say it, relish in every beat.

“hobie,” you repeated, louder this time, more conviction in your chest, “i like him, like a lot.”

he went silent. dead silent, barely moving. heat radiated from him, and you could’ve sworn in the vacancy of sound that you could hear his heart pounding against his chest. reaching up, your hand trembling slightly, you placed it there. on his chest, feeling the material of his suit, the humanity of his heartbeat. he melted into it.

“are you o—“

“i need to tell you something.” he interrupted you.

it was your turn to be silent, eyes heavy with intrigue, begging him to continue.

without a word, his ring-clad hand ghosted your skin, drifting past the air between you and to the base of his mask, sliding along his neckline for the seam, and dragging it up over his face, revealing the man within.

your heart stopped, a thousand things flashing through your head, through your heart, surging in your bloodstream. you didn’t even know what to say, what to think, how to comprehend it.

“hobie?” your voice was small again, shrunk beneath the look in his eyes, the desire.

embarrassment waved through you for a moment, a sudden panic of the earlier confession, your chest pounding at the possible rejection.

he didn’t even leave the thoughts enough time to fester, however, because his hand that was holding his mask was suddenly flush against your jaw, the material falling softly onto your neck. thumb trailing the comfort of your cheek, revelling in the feel of your skin, warm against his hands, he leaned forward.

his lips were on yours, without a word. gentle, but rough. the tension escaping through the feeling of him pressed into you, desire leaping out of every shared breath. his other hand fell to your waist, and yours stayed firm on his chest, bunching the fabric in your hand to bring him closer. he obliged, of course, and the kiss deepened. his head spun.

pulling away for breath, you kept your eyes on his lips, disbelief swimming around your brain, colliding with the need to kiss him again.

“y/n,” his hand brought your eyeline to his, “i like you, too.”

you couldn’t help but smile, relief washing your body out.

“like, a lot.”

he kissed you again. and again.

a/n: hope u enjoyed!! pls let me kno if ur did, this is my first time writing for him <3 thanku!!!

[run-little-hero]

“Can you remember the last time we had a moment alone like this?” Villain asks, far too pleased for Hero’s liking. They should’ve duct taped their mouth shut after tying them up.

“No, nor do I care.” They riffle through a stack of papers.

“I think I remember it,” Villain begins.

“Keep it to yourself. I’m trying to concentrate.”

The restraints creak against Villain’s wrists as they shift in the chair. “It was the time I’d nearly decimated one of your compounds. Not the most special part of that day by any means, however.”

“Villain.”

“The whole plan backfired on me, I’ll admit. Quite literally backfired. I don’t remember anything between detonating my weapon and waking to the sight of you.” Hero stills, recalling the moment. “I do remember how close you were. How close you got when you thought I wouldn’t make it. I never thought you’d be the one to make the first move, but—“

Papers forgotten, a hand grips Villain’s throat. Just a warning—hardly any pressure applied. Hero looms over Villain’s restricted figure, dauntingly displeased.

“Perhaps I should have clarified this after the incident. But I thought we had a mutual understanding to never speak of that day again.”

Hero can feel Villain’s trachea roll under their palm as they swallow. Their voice reverberates in cartilage as they utter, “We should be able to talk about it. It’s just us.”

It’s never just them. Their ever-present commitment to warring causes will always be a third wheel. Hero settles for, “We can’t go there. For both our sakes.” Their hand slides from Villain’s neck to their shoulder.

“I want to.”

“I don’t.” Hero straightens, intending to leave the topic and return to their stack of papers.

Before they can turn around, Villain’s leg wraps around their ankle and pulls them back towards the chair. They collapse onto Villain’s lap, righting themself only to be met with smug smile. Villain laughs.

Then, neither of them move. They stare into each other’s eyes and remain silent, like a single word could shatter the fledgling, fragile reality they’ve wandered into. Hero doesn’t mind the company in this place.

Villain voices a request. “Untie me, please.” Yet, they seem to fear the idea of that freedom. “I won’t run I promise, just…I want to be close to you.”

Superhero once told Hero their weakness is to abandon rationale. How calculating and decisive Hero can be in one moment, then blindsided by desire in another. But they believe Villain and recognize it is their weakness to accept entrapment.

Hero reasons, “You only feel this way because of how doomed we are.”

“Give me more credit for the depth of my emotions,” Villain scoffs.

Anchored by tension, Hero takes out a pocket knife and reaches behind Villain, swiftly sawing through the rope binding their wrists. Villains arms circle Hero as soon as they’re freed.

“Thank you,” they mutter, burying their face into Hero’s chest.

Hero shuts their eyes. “You’re making this difficult for me.”

“Too bad.”

They sigh, hands splayed across Villain’s back. “What are we gonna do?”

—

snippet #9

[flowersandbigteeth]

Working at a fast food place in a blizzard and all I want is some big yandere monster who has a tracker on my phone to notice and get worried for me and come immjdetaly to steal me from my work and tie me up saying he'll make sure I never have to work again cause he'll handle me

Sfw or nsfw

I liked this idea a lot, idk where the idea for a blizzard came from, but I like how you think ^_^'

Word Count: 2.5k

Monster (Rahl) x gn reader

W: sfw monster fluff, kidnapping, tying up

Rahl examined the tracking app he’d installed on his phone and let out a low growl. The little icon, a picture of you he’d stolen from your Instagram account placed you at the Popeye’s where you worked. Tracking you had become sort of an obsession of his, ever since he showed up there to order a family meal of fried chicken one afternoon.

You’d smiled at him when you asked for his order. That was the first thing that got his two hearts thumping. No one ever smiled at him. At eight feet tall and a mouth full of large, sharp teeth most people ran from him. He’d had the police called on him more times than he could count just for existing in public. 

People were used to the pretty Fairyfolk, the fairies, the sirens, even the orcs were better received than him. He was large and thick, covered in white feathers, tipped in dark blue, and with massive sharp claws that generally put people off. The only thing remotely human about him was his deep blue face, that was partly hidden by a stray clump of feathers he could never get to sit right. He looked like a horror from a nightmare and maybe he was. 

“Have a wonderful day and stay warm,” you’d chirped at him with a wink when you handed him his bag of food. The words falling from your plush lips were like heaven. Your small smile was like the sun rising. He wanted more. He needed more. His life was so lonely, but you were sweet and beautiful. You could be the companion he desperately craved. 

That’s why he’d started following you. In that one small interaction you’d given him so much warmth and he was hooked. He’d placed a tracker on your car and watched you go about your daily business with rapt attention. He loved learning even the most mundane things about you. He knew your favorite coffee order, your favorite color, as well as a million other little details he’d gleaned from stalking you. He hated that you worked with the public. Your smile should be his alone. It would be his alone.

Glancing outside he found snow falling in a white sheet and growled. There was a blizzard coming and your boss had insisted that the day crew show up to work, despite there being no customers. No one was buying chicken in the middle of a blizzard. 

The cold didn’t bother Rahl with his thick, downy undercoat, so it was no chore to make his way through the blinding white, using his phone’s GPS to guide him to you. When he reached the store, he suddenly felt nervous. He hadn’t come up with a plan. He stood outside of the small building for a moment collecting himself and trying to decide what to do. 

Inside it was warm and dry. Since the manager hadn’t bothered to come in himself, of course, you and your coworkers were making it as comfortable as possible. You’d cranked up the heat and someone put the “CLOSED” sign up, just in case. You were all lounging in the booths playing with your phones, waiting for the shift to end, though none of you were sure how you were going to get home in the mess building outside. 

“Maybe we should just go,” your coworker Amber said, “I mean, no one is going to notice if we aren’t here. If we stay too much longer we’re going to be trapped here.” 

The rest of the crew nodded in agreement. $8.00 per hour wasn’t going to pay for a tow truck to get your cars back home and if you all left at once, your manager couldn’t fire all of you. He’d have no staff left. It was either leave while it was still possible or be trapped, probably overnight. 

Outside, Rahl, hidden in white snow, was considering his strategy. He just needed an opportunity to get you alone. While he thought, he carefully tied the thick paracord he’d brought along with him into slipknots. 

“You guys go, I’ll close up,” you said. As the most senior staff member and the only one with keys, you took it on your shoulders to carry burdens like this, even though you didn’t get paid any more for it. 

Your coworkers gave you relieved smiles and hurried to grab their things and hustle home. Alone in the restaurant, you sighed while you shut off the fryer and the ovens, hoping you’d make it out before it became impossible to drive. The sound of the door opening and closing startled you, but you assumed it was one of your coworkers who’d forgotten something, so you went back to shutting the lights off without thinking. 

Only, as your ears strained to hear the sound of the door opening and closing again as they left, you heard something different. Dull, heavy footsteps echoed through the empty building. THUNK. THUNK. THUNK. 

A chill passed through you, but you assured yourself it was just the heavy steps of one of the guys stomping snow off of their non-slip shoes. 

“Hey, Mick…that you? I’m about to lock the doors!” 

Silence. You creeped past the food window into the dark dining room. The sun was completely blocked out by the snow, so it was pitch black. 

“Mick?” you asked the darkness, your voice just a whimper. 

You tried to shake the cold terror that was creeping up your spine away. Mick must have left and you just didn’t hear the door close. You squinted your eyes, trying to make out anything in the darkness, but you only saw shadowy shapes. 

“You’re just freaking out over nothing,” you whispered to yourself. 

You scrambled to lock the front door and then turned to head to the back and get your things, so you could go out of the back. 

A moment later you let out a terrified screech as thick, clawed hands clamped down on your arms like a vice. 

“Help! HELP!” you screamed, hoping one of your coworkers was nearby enough to hear you. 

Whatever had you pulled you into its warm feathery chest and wasn’t letting go, no matter how you thrashed and howled for mercy. 

“Sh. Sh. Sh. Don’t worry little mate,” a scratchy voice reminding you of dry stalks of wheat rubbing together told you, “I won’t hurt you.” 

“LEMME GO!” you yelled even louder. 

“Afraid I can't do that, little one,” he almost hissed, “I’ve chosen you.” 

“Ch-chosen…me…?” you murmured, confused, your heart beating so fast you could hardly catch your breath to speak, “ch-chosen me for what?” 

“You’re my lovely little mate,” he purred. 

You’d heard that word before from other Fairyfolk you knew, but it never had much meaning to you…until now. 

“I’m…I’m…not…” you gasped for air, hyperventilating from fear, “I’m n-not your m-mate!”

Suddenly you were being held aloft, tucked in the crook of the creature's arm, while the other wrapped tight bands around your wrists and pulled them taught. Then he did your ankles next, not tight enough to hurt you, but you were caught. If you’d been calm enough to notice, you’d have realized his feathers were very soft and he smelled like vanilla. 

Happy that you were secured and weren’t going to swat at him, he pet you in the darkness, long claws just barely scraping through your hair. 

“Calm down, little one, before you hurt yourself,” he pouted, “just breathe…In…out…in…out” 

With nowhere else to go, pinned firmly in his grasp, you could only follow directions, forcing your breathing to match his words. 

“That’s it,” he cooed with a smile hovering on his voice, “It’s all going to be okay now. I’ll take care of you…” 

“T-take c-care of me? What’s that s-supposed to mean?” you mumbled, your breath slowly picking up. Your mind drummed up a hundred horrible scenarios. 

He chuckled.

“I’m going to keep you safe and warm in my den,” he said as he made his way to the exit with large, heavy steps. 

Once you were outside, you could see slightly better and you took in his face. 

“I remember you…” you said, suddenly recognizing him, “you came into the store before…” 

“I’m happy you remembered me,” he preened. 

Around you snow fell in a thick white sheet, but the monster was like a living furnace. You were quite warm and cozy in his arms. 

“Well you’re pretty memorable…What’s your name?” you asked, which made him even happier. 

“Rahl,” he said cheerfully, navigating confidently through the rising wind. 

As the blizzard started in earnest, you had to tuck your face into his chest to keep your nose from freezing. He cupped your head and body with his arm, protecting you from the driving snow. You had no idea where he was taking you, the snow falling too thick to make out any landmarks so you just squeezed your eyes shut and tried to force yourself to wake up from this dream. 

This can’t be real. This can’t be real. You kept repeating the words to yourself, wishing they were true, but no matter how many times you said it, you could feel his downy feathers against your skin and hear his…two hearts(?)...In his chest. Finally after what felt like the longest walk of your life, the wind stopped blowing on you and everything was quiet. 

“Wake up little mate,” he said in a sing-song voice, “we’re home!” 

You lifted your eyes to look around the monster's den, only it wasn’t at all what you expected. No piles of bones on the floor or bits of skin curing on stretchers. It was actually…very nice. Everything was quite a bit bigger than what you were used to, but he had all the things a normal human would have…a television, a comfortable looking couch…even pictures hanging on the walls…of you. 

“Have you been following me?” you squeaked rhetorically. It was obvious he had. The pictures of you were all candid shots taken from far away and images printed from your social media accounts.

Rahl answered anyway while he loosened the paracord bindings from your hands and ankles, tossing them on the coffee table. . 

“I had to be sure you were safe,” he said, nestling you on the couch and wrapping you with a soft blanket like a little burrito, “sit here. I’ll start dinner.” 

You blinked at his broad back as he made his way to the kitchen. His raspy voice floated back to you as he sang some popular song to himself while he cooked. Soon the room filled with the smell of cumin and cayenne pepper. It occurred to you that you could run, but there was a blizzard outside and you were only dressed in the t-shirt and pants that made up your work uniform. If you left the comfort of his home and walked blindly into the storm, it was likely you’d get lost and die of hypothermia before anyone would find you. 

Rahl emerged with two big bowls of chili filled to the brim, carefully handing you one of them and a spoon. You looked down to see he’d made it just as you liked it, with a large hunk of cornbread off to the side and a dollop of sour cream on top. 

“How did you know…” you asked, your voice dying in your throat. Rahl must have been stalking you closely to have picked up on such a random preference. 

He stirred his chili and pulled a cheesy spoonful to his mouth, savoring it before he spoke. 

“I know everything about you (Y/N),” he said, his bright blue eyes glinting in the soft light of his home, “I wanted everything to be perfect for you when you finally came home.” 

You took a few more spoonfuls of the delicious chili before you responded. 

“It’s really good,” you said, looking into your bowl…the chili was very convincing. The flavors were perfect with just enough spicy heat to warm you up without burning your tongue.  

Shaking that away you leveled Rahl with your best no-nonsense glare. 

“You can’t just kidnap me! It’s not right,” you informed him firmly, “I have a life!” 

Rahl chortled and his long, blood red tongue swept out to lick chili off of the corner of his mouth, the gesture suddenly shooting tingles down your spine. 

“And I can provide a better life,” he countered, “you never have to work at a fast food restaurant again, for one. And taking care of you makes me happy. I want to give you everything…and all I ask is your companionship.” 

He set his bowl down and carefully extracted yours from your hands, placing it on the coffee table. Curling his big body over yours, he cupped your cheek in his hand. He marveled at how much smaller you were than him. A tiny little creature that needed his protection. 

“You are a rare and beautiful soul, floating in a murky sea of mediocrity. I want to take you away from all that…create a world for you where you can thrive. I don’t expect you to fall in love me with just one bowl of chili, but if you just give me a chance, I can show you real happiness. The two of us, together.” 

His words, in his husky voice, were so tempting. You’d been single for a long time, struggling to make ends meet. You slept in a walk-in closet you rented in a house meant for 3 that housed 8. Your car barely ran, you’d bought it from some guy on the internet who was just going to junk it if you hadn’t offered him a couple hundred dollars to take it off of his hands. You’d slept in it for two months after that before you could afford the walk-in closet. There were days where you didn’t eat at all or if you did it was stolen from the Popeye’s where you worked. 

“But we hardly know each other,” you mumbled, trying to convince yourself he was lying, trying to trick you into a false sense of security. 

His large hand drifted down your cheek, then gingerly along the delicate curve of your neck to your arm, finally resting on the hand folded on your lap, leaving the skin tingling in his wake. He pulled your small fingers to his lips, giving them a soft kiss. Your cheeks burned and you took in a sharp breath. 

“Then let’s get to know each other,” he purred, pressing your palm to his cheek.

It was smooth, but firm and you were finally calm enough to scent the sweet fragrance of vanilla wafting up from his skin.

“Let's not be strangers anymore.” 

You were suddenly aware of how close he was, a loose feather brushing your forehead. Your heartbeat kicked up, leaving you breathless. This close you couldn’t help but notice how handsome he was. His lips were full with a delicate curve forming his cupid’s bow and his eyes gleamed with an unnatural blue light, framed by fluffy white lashes. And he was just so BIG. He towered over you, his feathered shoulders taking up your whole field of view. How you hadn’t noticed him stalking you, you had no idea. 

Your eyes instinctively dropped to his lips, so close you could feel the heat emanating from them. Bathed in his sweet, vanilla scent you found yourself tipping forward until your mouth just barely grazed his. You could hear each thud of your pounding heart in your ears. The two of you shared a breath for a moment, before his smooth lips pressed against yours in earnest. 

A lot can be learned from a kiss. Rahl’s mouth moved over yours gently. He let you explore at your own pace, holding himself back from grabbing you and pressing you to him. He wanted you to feel comfortable with him. He never wanted you to feel frightened. It was incredibly difficult with your soft skin so close to his. He had to pull away before he was lost to his own passion, preening a bit when your head followed his for just a moment. You quickly caught yourself, sinking back into the couch, your cheeks on fire. 

“Here, let’s eat before it gets cold,” he reminded you of the chili you’d completely forgotten about, setting the bowl in your slightly shaking hands, “do you want to watch a movie? I downloaded all of your favorites.” 

You nodded weakly, willing your heartbeat to slow, as Rahl brought up a list of movies for you to pick from. You chose a horror movie you’d seen a thousand times and to Rahl’s delight, you snuggled up next to him, finishing your bowl. Suddenly you felt like a couple, like you’d known each other your whole lives. As far as Rahl was concerned this was a dream come true and he quickly abandoned the rest of his dinner to throw an arm around you, holding you close until you drifted off to sleep. 

[highdramas]

hey bae!! can i pls request a fluffy steve harrington imagine, s3/s4 er’s with the fake dating friends to lovers trope? ty!!

eeeee i loved this!!! i drew some inspo from to all the boys i've loved before <3 love a shy reader moment!!! thank you for sending and i hope you enjoy [wc: 3249.] <3

--

you don't know how the letters got out. how the hell would the letters have gotten out?

you're going through things to get rid of in preparation of going to college-- sure, you were just going to school in indianapolis, but it was better than staying this hell hole of a town even one second longer-- but the hatbox was gone. no, not gone. worse. it was empty.

the expletive you let out has your father screaming from down the hall. "what did i say about language?!"

"sorry!" you squeak as you continue to throw clothes over your shoulders, furrowed brows. "no, no, no..." you groan and cover your face with your hands. this is cruel. god is a cruel, petty thing, you decide.

haven't you been good? you volunteer at the humane society. you never got detention in high school. you'd never stolen anything. you liked to think that you were a good person-- quiet, maybe. introverted, definitely. shy more than anything. and, well, that's how you got into this debacle in the first place.

a hopeless romantic by nature, you could never fathom truly confessing to the loves of your lives. especially considering all of those loves definitely did not feel the same way towards you. i mean-- was king steve going to have a crush on you? no way. which was why it was easy to write your love confession on the page, seal it up, address, stamp, and all-- and place it in the hatbox to never be seen again.

until now.

"honey--" you hear your mother call from downstairs. "someone's asking for you on the phone."

"who?!" you yell back, gripping the banister.

"steve harrington."

your blood goes cold.

you would take ten extra volunteer shifts at the humane society if it meant that all of this would go away.

you shuffle downstairs and take the phone from your mom, leaning against the wall, glancing from right to left as if he was really there with you. "hello?"

"and his hair-- he has the most gorgeous hair i've ever seen. i want to run my hands through it and--"

"STOP!" you run your hand over your face and squeeze your eyes shut. "oh my god, literally, please--"

"oh, c'mon. i'm giving you shit. you know, this whole letter is really sweet. you're a good writer. and sending right before you go off to college? bold move. i respect it." steve's voice has the warmth of a smile embedded into it. you can picture him on the other line, the crisp strawberry stationary in his big hand.

you don't know why you had picked strawberries for steve. it seemed fitting at the time.

breathing in through your nose and out through your mouth, you say slowly, "that wasn't meant to get to you. and, for the record, that was written, like, three years ago."

"wow. you wound me. well, either way, really boosted my ego. i figured i would come by and thank you in person. you live off church street, right? the little green house?"

stammering, you can barely get a word out before he says, "okay, cool, i thought so. see you in ten."

and he hangs up on you. just like that.

it reminds you exactly why your crush on king steve went away in the first place.

--

steve makes it to your house in eight minutes. he comes right up to the door and knocks, and when you open it, frantic and frazzled and with your sweater on backwards, he looks you up and down.

"your tag's sticking out." he tucks it back in for you. "and... it's backwards."

"i realize that now."

"great."

for a moment you're just staring at one another. then steve cracks a smile. "c'mon. can i get you, like, a milkshake or something? you look a little shaky, some sugar would probably--"

but everything goes silent. because approaching your door behind steve is ryan stewart, holding a letter of his own.

"fuck," you hiss under your breath, eyes darting to steve.

"woah, she curses! cool. i always thought you were super uptight, you know--" his words are cut off when you take him by the face and bring him to you, your lips crashing against his. it's slightly awkward; you're mostly kissing his top lip and your noses are crushed together a bit. but his hand finds a home on your waist and you feel his fingertips grip into your skin slightly. when you pull away, you can feel the fire on your face. and when you look over steve's shoulder at ryan, you feel a sick sort of triumph.

"milkshakes sound great, steve," you say the words loud enough for ryan to hear and you wrap your arm around his, calling over your shoulders to your parents that you'll be back soon. the look on steve's face is nothing short of befuddled, but when he turns around and sees ryan stewart standing there with a letter in hand, something seems to click into place.

he shifts your position from an awkward arm lock to a natural draping of his arm across your shoulder. he offers ryan a smile that says-- hey, can i help you? "hey, stewart," he says, nodding his head at him as he walks by.

ryan opens his mouth to say something but steve has already shuffled you into his car. he even opened the door for you. by the time the two of you are inside and steve is driving away, ryan has barely turned in his spot.

silence fills the car. you touch your bottom lip and you feel steve's eyes on you. "well," he begins. "your technique could use some work, but not a bad kiss, all things considered."

dumbfounded where you sit, you slowly glance over at him to see him wearing the biggest smirk imaginable.

and some of your lipstick.

you groan and cover your face with your hands, a muffled, "i'm sorry." getting out. barely. all you can hear is his laughter and when you drop your hands, you can't help but admire just how pretty he looks when he's laughing.

"you don't have anything to be sorry for. a pretty girl kissed me? wow, what a hardship." steve looks over at you. "i'm more curious as to what ryan stewart did to make you kiss me like that."

crossing your arms over your chest, you look out the window. "okay, well-- remember when i told you about the letters?" he nods his head. "well, like i said, you're not the only one who got one. you, ryan, eddie munson, and a boy from summer camp when i was twelve. instead of risking embarrassment and putting my feelings out there, i wrote the letters. and i always felt better when i did."

steve is quiet for a moment before he says, "that's sorta sad, and doesn't answer my question, really."

you roll your eyes and continue. "well, ryan's letter was different than the other ones. it was... a heartbreak letter. ryan and i had dated for six months last year but wanted to keep it a secret. from everyone. and then he ended things with me and got with someone else. prom king and queen." your head falls back against the headrest. "so i wrote how i felt. just like i always do. and you know what? you getting your letter, fine. eddie? he'll be nice about it. the boy from summer camp? who knows if he even got his. but that letter getting out..." you shrug, feeling meek in all the worst ways. "i didn't want him to feel sorry for me. or think that i'm sad and hung up over him, because i'm not. and you were... right there. and i wanted him to see that someone else would kiss me. in public." you press your lips together. "i realize that also sounds sad."

"it does, but not because of you. it sounds sad because ryan is a total dickhead." steve pulls into the parking lot of the diner and he turns and looks at you. "i think i have an idea."

--

"this'll never work."

"it'll absolutely work," steve says with a grin. "it'll make ryan jealous as hell, and remind girls what they're missing when they're not going out with me. i mean, it's basically foolproof. and at the end we go our separate ways with no ill will for one another. c'mon-- give credit where credit is due."

you slide your milkshake closer to yourself and take a long sip. "well, how long do we do this for?"

"you're moving away in three months for school. that seems like a good chunk of time, don't you think?" steve leans forward on his forearms. "look, i know i say a lot, but you don't have to do this if you don't want to. it was just... an idea." he shrugs and you don't know if you've ever seen steve so... sheepish before.

"no. no. it's... it's a good idea, unfortunately." you pause. "but there's going to need to be rules!"

"rules! rules, we can do rules. easy. what rules are you thinking?"

"well... how much time are we going to spend together? how much will we kiss? we're gonna have to go out in order for people to see about us and hear about us, so where are we gonna go? what about--"

steve's hand reaches out and covers yours. it's warm, and calloused slightly. like he's a star baseball player. "we'll figure all of that out. i promise." his thumb swipes across your skin. "contrary to popular belief, i do know how to date someone. how to make someone feel... special." he peers at you. "i can do that stuff for you, too. you know--" he clears his throat. "to make it all more believable."

breathless, you nod your head. "yeah," you smile. "believable."

--

you and steve harrington were the absolute talk of hawkins, indiana. one month into this... experiment and everyone had an opinion, everyone had a comment. even the kiss in front of ryan had become public knowledge. ryan told one person, one told another person, who told five people... and suddenly, after feeling mostly invisible through your high school career, you feel very visible. almost uncomfortably so.

but steve is a good partner in it. there's a reason why you wrote him a letter those years ago-- maybe even then you had seen something in him that other people didn't always recognize. regardless of the bravado, you always felt like there was something... soft about him. a soft underbelly that few people ever got. and now, you know that you were right all along.

because after a day at park, rolling around in the grass and reading to steve and looking around to see who's watching... he could be anywhere else. but he's here, at your house, with you. watching grease.

"your hair kinda reminds me of danny's," you say with a smile. you reach across the couch and run your hand through it; in the weeks that you've been putting on this ruse, you've gotten extremely comfortable around steve. that part is not fake. not one bit. "i like it."

steve smiles and settles further into your couch. "well, does that make you my sandy?"

"i guess so." you scrunch your nose up. "but i never really liked sandy's ending. i mean, why should she change herself to fit in with everyone else? she knows who she is. i never thought that was fair." you scoot a little closer to steve, subconsciously. you'd both agreed that no one could know about your arrangement, especially not your parents. so you supposed that sitting close to him on the couch wasn't that weird.

even if your parents weren't home.

"it's not fair. sandy was cute before the jumpsuit." steve shrugs his shoulders and looks over at you. there's a silence as you two stare at each other. "i'm cool with you being my sandy," the corner of his mouth turns up and he opens his arms. "c'mere."

"steve-- my parents aren't home, we don't have to--"

"it's not for anyone to see. you don't like to cuddle?"

you huff and settle into his arms, your cheek squished against the strong plane of his chest, your legs stretched out across the couch. "of course i like to cuddle."

"that's what i thought."

you both fell asleep like that. you're awoken by steve's gentle touch, brushing your hair from your eyes and shaking your shoulder. "hey-- hey, baby, we fell asleep."

you grumble but don't make any moves to get up any time soon. you feel steve's laugh on your cheek more than you hear it. "alright, you leave me no choice--" you groan in discontent when he slips out from under you. but then he's scooping you up into his arms.

steve takes you up the stairs and into your bedroom, laying you down gently. he pulls back the covers and tucks you beneath them. your eyes flutter open to find him watching you with a lovely smile. truly lovely-- it's the smile that gives you butterflies. "you can't stay?" you whisper, and if you were fully awake, you'd be mortified for asking such a thing.

"don't want to get you in trouble." he pushes your hair back and kisses your cheek, your forehead. "i'll come by in the morning, take you to breakfast. how's that sound?"

you nod your head and yawn. your hand rubs at his arm, a matching smile on your own face. "okay."

"okay," steve whispers. he leans forward and kisses your cheek again. "sweet dreams. see you in the morning."

--

you're not sure how three months went by so quickly.

you also don't know how to reckon with the fact that they went by so quickly because you loved every single moment of them.

it wasn't just that steve was a good fake boyfriend-- steve was just a good person. a good friend. every moment that you spent around him, you wanted to bottle that moment up and live in it forever. he was, whether you wanted to admit it or not, your favorite person.

ryan was an afterthought. none of this was for him, anymore. this... it was all for steve.

"where should i put this one?" steve asks, holding up a box labeled books. "you have, like fifty books boxes. do you even get a bookshelf in your dorm?"

your childhood bedroom is in tatters, picked apart and almost all packed up for your drive tomorrow. you'd be staying at steve's tonight prior to your drive. an occurrence that wasn't all that rare, anyway. you always slept side by side, and it always ended with his strong arms wrapped all around you.

steve and the kids would be there for your send off. another wonderful addition to bringing steve into your life-- the kids that came along with him. dustin was your favorite, but you weren't going to tell that to the others.

and while three months ago, you couldn't wait to get out of hawkins... you don't feel that same excitement now. you're still excited, definitely, but... you have something that you're going to be missing, now. you hadn't exactly planned for that.

you have someone who you'll be missing.

"i can always make room for books," you say, turning your nose up at steve. "you can set it there," you point to another stack of boxes. "thanks for helping."

"'course. that's what a boyfriend's there for."

silence falls over the two of you and you think that steve realizes what he said, because he suddenly goes rigid as he sets the box down with the others. "i mean-- like, a friend. a boy that's a friend. and also your fake boyfriend. i--" he sighs and rubs his face. "fuck."

setting down the tape in your hand, you turn your attention more fully to steve. his hand drops and he meets your gaze and for the first time, you can see everything written all over his face. like he's dropped a mask that's been hiding his real, true feelings. or maybe you'd just been too blind to see it. "say that again."

"a boy that's a friend?"

"no. before that."

he pauses. "that's... that's what a boyfriend is there for?"

you nod your head slowly. "is that... is that how you view yourself? with me? my boyfriend... for real?"

steve's cheeks start to go pink. "i mean... i know you're my best friend. and i know that i fucking love being around you. and i know that... i know that shit started to get a little blurry for me. probably a few months ago. i-- you know, i just... i don't really feel like i'm pretending anymore." he blinks and you can see the nerves on his body. it's what leads you to cross the room towards him and take his hand in yours. "is that... is that what you want?"

"steve," you whisper. "you got a letter in the first place because when i was fifteen i was crazy about you. and i think... i think i've always been a little crazy about you. so... yes. that's what i want."

gentle fingertips trace down your jaw. "i guess not much changes, anyway." he smirks a little. "we've been dating for..."

"three months. two days." you shrug your shoulders as his eyes widen. "i pay attention, i guess..."

steve laughs and he brings you in by the waist, burying his face into the crook of your neck. "that's my girl." he goes quiet. "i'm gonna miss you. i was always gonna miss you, but... you know, indianapolis isn't far. i'll come and visit. you'll come home for holidays. we'll... we'll be fine."

your fingers run through steve's hair. "i'm gonna miss you too. what you said earlier? about me being your best friend? you're mine too."

he squeezes your waist and it wrings another smile out of you. steve makes you hopelessly lovesick, in the best of ways.

--

steve ended up driving up with you, helping you set up your dorm alongside your parents. and after you shed your tears when your parents left, after you anxiously paced the floor anticipating the moment that steve would have to leave. "hey, hey, hey," steve finally says, stopping your movements. "i have something for you before i go."

you open your mouth and he shakes his head. "no, no. let me do this." from his back pocket, he procures a letter. complete with your dorm address and a cute stamp in the top right corner. he holds it out to you. "i want you to read this when you miss me most. not tonight-- tonight, i want you to go and have fun and make friends. your roommate seems cool. i'm talking, like, october." he pauses. "can you do that for me?"

your eyes shine with unshed tears. "steve..." it's practically a whimper. you look up at him and you say, "i love you."

wrapping himself around you, his hand rubs your back. "i love you too," he whispers into your ear. "never loved anyone like this before."

butterflies swarm in your stomach. and you still don't know how those letters got sent-- but you've never been so thankful for fate working its magic than you are for that letter being sent, and bringing steve to your doorstep on a warm may afternoon.

[queenie-official]

Chapter Fifteen: ‘Meet the Family’ Bridgerton Au!Anakin

previous chapter: 14

the royal heart series masterlist

a/n: please i feel so bad for making you all wait so long for these chapters 😭 like i am so sorry i’ve got not excuse for not writing sooner tbh 💀 i just kept getting stuck binge watching stuff instead of doing this😀 but anyway this is like my big makeup to you all 🫶🏼

waking up to the feeling of Anakin’s warm bare skin against your back as he hugs you from behind was definitely one that you could get used to. what you didn’t want to have to get used to was that moment being interrupted.

a string of knocks on your bedroom door pulled you out of the morning bliss, it was time to start the day and to wake up fully. Anakin seemed to be a deep sleeper, his soft snores still coming from behind you as the knocks continued. with a reluctant sigh you turn to face him, knowing you’d have to be the one to wake him.

he looked so pretty like this, golden rays from the morning sun adding an extra warmth to his tan skin. it felt wrong to disturb the peaceful atmosphere of it all.

“Anakin” you call his name softly, while beginning to gently shake him awake. it takes a few moments before he finally starts to stir, his nose scrunching up as he shifts in the spot releasing his hold on you as he does. Anakin’s eyes flutter open, squinting slightly as his vision adjusts. “morning?” he says through a yawn before directing his attention to the knocks on the door.

typically a royal isn’t usually disturbed when they sleep, instead the rest of the castle staff must wait to be called on for their day to begin. so the fact that someone- most likely Braeden, was directly trying to get your attention meant whatever news they had was urgent.

free of Anakin’s embrace you shyly stand up to put on your robe. you could feel his eyes follow your every movement, it made you flush. he’d seen all of you last night but this felt different for some reason.

carefully pulling on your robe and tying it shut you go to open the door, cracking it just enough for only you to be seen. it’s not like you had to hide the fact you slept with the king, he was your husband after all but he was also still naked in your bed. so for his own decency you made sure he wasn’t in view.

sure enough there was Braeden and rex too, both Valets stood side by side looking down to you. “is everything alright?” you ask with a quirk of your head.

“yes everything is fine your majesty, it’s just we’ve received word that the Skywalkers will be arriving today instead of tomorrow-” Braeden begins only for Rex to interrupt him “not just today but any moment now.” your eyes go wide at the news, all the worries from yesterday beginning to flow back at once. you felt your stomach twist from nerves.

“right well i must get ready then, can you send for Eleanora?” Braeden nods and walks off to go get your lady-in-waiting. you now had very limited time to get ready and mentally prepare yourself for meeting everyone you think to yourself while closing the door as you step back inside the room fully.

Anakin was up and had thrown his clothes back on from the night prior. “i should go get ready as well” he says while walking up to you and wrapping his arms around you when he sees the slight panicked look to your expression. you reciprocate the hug instantly, taking a deep breath and breathing his scent in. “it’s going to be okay, you’ll do great besides you’ve already met my mother and Obi-Wan. that’s two people down” he tried to reassure you, gently rubbing one of his hands up and down your back as he speaks.

“it’s not their opinion of me i’m concerned about” you sigh, groaning slightly in annoyance. Anakin can’t help but laugh, gently taking your chin into his hand and guiding you to look at him.

“Ahsoka isn’t going to bite you y/n” you can see him fighting back a big smile, doing his best to remain serious and not laugh again. you pout at his statement, obviously she wasn’t going to bite you- but it wasn’t like she was going to go out of her way to be nice to you either.

you had a feeling she’d make her opinion known without really holding back, you could only hope to win her over. though the likelihood of you two being in the same room long enough to spend time and clear the air was low considering everything you would have to do in order to finish preparations for tomorrow in time. not even during the day itself would you be able to spend much time with her, you’d be busy hosting alongside Anakin.

Anakin leans in and kisses your pouty lips, it was quick but he went back for a second one. then a third and forth, he didn’t stop until you were smiling. pulling away gently with his victory as the door to the room opened, Eleanora standing idly in the doorframe. she froze briefly for a moment before she realized she was interrupting a moment.

just before she could turn away Anakin raised his hand up to stop her, silently letting her know it was okay before he turned back to you. “i’ll see you when you’re done” he smiles at you one more time before heading out, Eleanora giving him a brief bow as he passed by her.

“did he sleep in here?” she asks happily, her curiosity getting the best of her as she closed the door. both of you beginning the usual routine of getting you dressed and ready for the day.

“he did” you answer her with a smile and she gives you a look, you could tell exactly what she was trying to ask you without asking. you didn’t answer though and that was enough for her to know exactly what’d gone down.

“well i’m glad you and the king are getting along so well, it’s a refreshing contrast to the worry you had when Barclay and Valorum first paired you together” She says while combing through your hair, working on styling it just how you liked it. the mention of Valorum made your nose wrinkle, yet another thing you’d pushed out of your mind thanks to Anakin, now brought back to light.

“yes well i guess this was the best outcome we could of had from this whole ordeal.” you sigh as pin after pin is inserted into your hair to keep the style neat and in place. “has Barclay seemed off to you as well Eleanora?” you ask curiously, he’d been so nice to you lately. too nice, practically sucking up to you. as far as you were aware he wasn’t involved in your fathers death, Valorum would of called him out just as he’d done with the other royal council members. so the sudden switch up was definitely suspicious to you.

“i’m not entirely sure your majesty, though i can say he definitely seems plagued.” that perked your interest immensely, what did Barclay have to worry about? he lived in the castle so no need for financial worries, and as far as you knew he had no family. his mother died giving birth to him, his father was alive but they weren’t close. he was an only child and unmarried.

“plagued?” you ask as she slips on your corset, adjusting it accordingly before she begins to tighten the laces. “yes he often looks distraught, paranoid even” you felt your heart sink then.

“you would tell me if you heard anything right?” you can’t help but ask, turning your head to see behind you where she stands. you knew you could trust her, but the possibility of a betrayal wormed its way into your head. you begin to twist the ring on your finger as she begins to layer your petticoats. a small frown on her face as she looks at you “of course your majesty”

you nod at her reassurance, forcing yourself to relax. one problem at a time you tell yourself whilst taking a deep breath in.

Anakin gently grasps your hand, lacing his fingers with yours. a silent reminder he was right here with you as you two walked to the main staircase of the castle towards the foyer. his family arriving seconds ago, he was excited. the smile on his face hadn’t faded since earlier, his happiness was contagious. you could imagine exactly how he felt- if you could see your parents again you’d be just as elated.

the main doors to the castle swing open, voices now filling the room as you both come to halt in front of the source. there they all were in the flesh, your eyes scanned over each person listing them off in your head, Queen Shmi, King Qui-Gon, Prince Obi-Wan… you pause when you land on the face you’d been most anxious to meet. Princess Ahsoka, she was beautiful. long dark brown hair, with wide dark brown eyes to match.

you felt Anakin’s hand leave yours as he pulled his mother into a hug, and that’s when you’d noticed she was staring at you just as you’d been her. her brows were slightly furrowed, you couldn’t tell if that was out of discontent or just her being unsure. either way it made that panic you pushed down rise again.

moving your hands behind your back and twisting the ring on your finger as you forced a happy content smile on your face. standing awkwardly to the side as each member of the family greeting Anakin.

“i’m shocked you didn’t want to hug me first” Anakin’s teasing voice rung in your ears as he finally greeted the little girl who shifted her attention to her older brother. a bright smile now adorning her lips as she hugged him tightly. “have you missed me that much?” he laughed at how tight her hug was but didn’t hesitate to return the sentiment.

“yea right, i’ve been enjoying my time away from you” she says with a roll of her eyes as she pulls away from him. for a moment you thought she was being serious her tone of voice sure made it seem that way. but then you noticed the same little lit to it hidden behind the monotone, the same way Anakin speaks when he’s being sarcastic. you couldn’t help the genuine smile that grew on your lips from the realization- he wasn’t joking when he said she was his star pupil. poor Obi-Wan definitely hadn’t caught a break.

“oh please i bet you’ve been miserable” he jokes, and you can see something flash in Ahsoka’s eyes before she scoffs and swats the hand away that’s going straight towards her head to ruffle her hair.

“if anyone’s been miserable it’s me” Obi-Wan pipes up, rubbing one of his temples in annoyance. pulling both siblings attention over to him, it was adorable. both of them making the same exact confused face without even knowing it. “with you gone there’s no one to occupy her, and i feel like i’m being targeted twice as much as i used to” he huffs and a smug smile appears on Anakin’s face.

“good then she’s doing just as i taught her” he says proudly and Obi-Wan rolls his eyes in annoyance. their parents laugh as the siblings continue to squabble, it was entertaining to watch for sure but it also made you feel a bit alienated.

like you where intruding in a personal moment, the urge to slip away was strong but the idea was easier said then done. thankfully for you Shmi noticed your silence and nudged you gently with her elbow.

“they’re ridiculous don’t you think” she giggles and you smile back. your heart warming as she made sure you were included.

of course all good things had to come to an end, and as Barclay approached you with a bunch of papers you were quickly reminded of that. this was one of the downfalls of them coming a day early, you almost wished you could push it off and continue to spend time with them. get to know the people who gave you the man you learned to love. but then the race and ball would never come to a fruition.

“your majesty” Barclay calls out to you drawing the attention of everyone in the room. he gives a quick bow in greeting to the others before focusing on you, holding out a few papers. you could feel one pair of eyes in particular bore into you sticking out from the rest of the room but tried to ignore it. “we have to get these last few details for the ball finalized and then there’s still-”you cut him off by holding up your hand, and unlike how he usually would continue on anyway he obeys the silent command.

“it was good to see you all again, and too meet you king Qui-Gon and Princess Ahsoka” you begin while turning towards everyone else. “we’ll have to catch up some other time” you add while gesturing towards Barclay. they all nod in understanding and Anakin walks over to join you, you feel a pang of guilt when he does. he’d just gotten to reunite with his family and is already having to pull away from them.

“Ani you should stay” you say quietly, voice low enough for only him to hear. he raises a brow at you, stopping right at your side. “i can handle the rest of the preparations, you should be with your family” it’s silent between you two a wordless debate happening. obviously he wanted to be with his family but he did not want to leave everything on you either, he’d promised he would stay by your side and he intended to keep that promise. but of course you’re just as stubborn and knew that you could in fact handle the rest on your own. he should enjoy the day catching up with his family, this was a rare time they’d all be in one place and he should take advantage of it.

finally with a sigh he relents, gently grabbing your hand and pulling you a bit closer to him. pressing a kiss to your forehead. “thank you” he whispers before pulling away and giving you a smile walking back towards his family. confused looks grew on his family’s faces when he’d turned back to them, clearly unsure what was going on but when you walked away with Barclay it was obvious what had gone down.

you decided to take one last glance back only to meet a pair of brown eyes who’d already been doing the same. you could only wonder what was running through his little sisters mind.

part 16

Tag List: @luvvfromme @gatekeepingirlboss @bimbo-baggins86 @iluvanakinskywalker @bby-imasociopath @curlycarley @burnthecheshirewitch @misscaller06 @sweetcheesecakesblog

alright 🥰 there’s the next part, side note i thought i could break the chapter up into just two more parts after 14 but that is not the case 😀 so i think you guys are going to be getting all the way up to chapter 17👀 anyway what do yall think of the family dynamic going on with the skywalkers 😋

[dentiststoothfairy]

Slides in *) may I have a chubby reader and them H E A D C A N O N S (blinks with eye lashes*)

Ty 😊

Art I made lmao

𝐏𝐢𝐜𝐨'𝐬 𝐬𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐝 & 𝐁𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝

𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐮𝐛𝐛𝐲 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Bro they don't give a single fuck.

Gonna be honest. They really don't.

If you're vibing with them? They'll vibe with you. Doesn't matter if you're pretty, ugly, larger, smaller, taller, shorter, thick or flat.

Nene thinks you're gorgeous anyways. You know she does because she makes a big deal about not hanging around ugly people.

"Like Pico?"

"Oh my Lord, exactly! Like Pico!"

She takes you shopping and then throws an ABSOLUTE fit if or when they don't carry the CUTEST outfit in your size.

That has to be some sort of CRIME.

Darnell is probably the most apathetic about it. He knows what it's like to be treated differently for something you can't change. And personally, he'd rather someone not make a large deal out of it... So he doesn't make a big deal out of you either.

Although, when someone has the audacity to like.. Comment on it? He calls them tf out. He makes a big deal then. He gets absolute pleasure of making assholes squirm with uncomfortable tension after being pointed out.

He's got your back. Honestly? He is probably the most reliable out of the group. He shuts Nene up real fast when she says something insensitive by the slip of the tongue.

Pico? God don't let anyone make one comment around you two.

He DON'T let that shit slide.

He's probably fallen asleep on you after a long day. He hasn't got any shame that one, I'm not gonna lie. You're way more comfortable to lean on than Darnell or Nene.

Nene mocks him and tells him that he better not collapse into your chest the way he collapsed into hers that one time. He still fucking hates that. It's embarrassing. He WOULD RATHER DIE.

"I'm back!"

"Oh, welcome home." You answered cointly. Your chest heavy with burden as you pulled your nervous eyes away from your reflection, subconsciously pulling down at your pants as you did so to hide the shame.

Your blue haired lover gave an energetic laugh as he moved lightly on the soles of his feet, bouncing to the couch as he took his hat out to fan himself. His stupid smile always brought comfort, you fought a smile yourself.

"Busy day?" You hummed, his eyes was still twinkling from energy from being outside. He nodded as his mouth opened to talk more.

"Oh hell yeah. Another rap battle, it was absolutely fire. You should've heard me!"

Ah.. You... Hadn't been willing to leave the apartment for a while... Embarrassment of like... Existing. But, that meant you missed out on so many fun things with your quite frankly, extroverted boyfriend.

His rising and falling chest and heart beating in sync, you could feel his internal music constantly bumping as he climbed onto you while you sat down, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck as you quickly grabbed his hand. You knew what he was trying to do, trying to run his fingers through your tight curls and you knew it would only end badly.

"I bet... You would've sounded great." You gave a bitter smile, glancing down subtly at your legs as your hand clutched his hand tighter. Your lover, usually pretty clueless, seemed to pick up on the cues.

".. Is something wrong, babe?" He asked, his tone shifted slightly as he looked up at you, his excitement washed away like a wave swallowing a crab into the large ocean.

Now look what you've done...

"No, no. I'm fine! I was just thinking about what we were going to have for dinner tonight. Maybe something with low fat?" You offered, throwing the option into the air hoping that the usual air head wouldn't catch on.

Unlucky for you, he did.

His eyebrows furrowed. "Is this about your legs again?" He let go of you, as he sat up. The silence hung in the air like a string hung off a cork board. You never liked lying to him but, how else could you improve the situation..?

He gave a sigh, laying his head on your shoulder as he snaked an arm around your waist, trying to pull you as closely as he could to you. "... You know I think you're stunning, I don't.. Understand how you can't see that." He muttered.

"Because-.." Your voice caught onto the tissue in your throat as if a hook was dragging across it. You couldn't untangle the line that was suffocating you. Both metaphorical, and the verbal line you were about to say.

And, god bless... Your boyfriend as if a miracle worker, knew exactly what to do. He pulled you in, connecting your lips quickly.

"You're adorable. There's nothing cuter than you." He mumbled, giving you a crooked smile. "The fact you think other wise is insulting. You're like.. The fuckin' cutest thing ever. Like, you're so soft. And I know people who say that come off as if they're reaching for compliments but honestly? I wouldn't change you for the way you are." He shrugged.

Your eyes scavenged his for any sort of lie. That he was trying to make you feel better with absolutely no true empathy behind his words. But you came up empty handed.

"Like, do you know how hard it is for me to like.. Not show you off? I just wanna walk down the street and go 'look suckers! This is my mutha' fuckin' partner! You can't even imagine landing someone so hot!'" He raised his voice, cupping his mouth to make himself even louder. You gave a nervous laugh.

"Please don't do that..." Please, don't.

He gave a cheeky wink to you, sticking his cheek out as he did. "I said it's hard for me not to do, not that I would. I know how you get with attention, baby and I'm gonna do my best to make sure you're content in your own skin because I love you." He brought your knuckle to his lips, giving you a kiss and feigning a knight.

"Whether you're black, white, fuckin'... Green or thin."

Green?

You couldn't help but laugh at that. Taking your dumb ass boyfriend by the jaw and kissing him once again.

"You're so stupid."

"I know." He hummed back, content. "Now what's for dinner for real? I'm starving."

[starryeyedjanai]

all that you've conquered was already yours

stommy | explicit | 2.3k

read on ao3

happy birthday @stobinesque!!! hope your day was amazing!! 🥳

When Steve leans back against the pillows on his bed, he doesn't question it when Tommy slips onto the bed next to him.

They just got back from some house party that was more trouble than it was worth. The beer was shitty and the jungle juice was even shittier.

It's December and the snow on the ground made the trek across campus even worse than normal.

Steve didn't have any luck with any of the girls he talked to tonight and Carol's sick and couldn't come out tonight so he didn't even have her to bitch about everyone at the party with him.

"Did I tell you that Carol sucked me off right before I left for the party?" Tommy asks out of nowhere, breaking the comfortable silence that was stretching between them.

"No, you didn't," Steve says, rolling his eyes, but getting ready for whatever is about to come out of Tommy's mouth. He does this sometimes. Talks and talks and talks about him and Carol and the things they get up to.

Steve usually doesn't stop it because as much as he wants to pretend he doesn't care, he's gotten himself off plenty of times to the things Tommy talks about. To memories of Tommy leaning in close or sitting close enough that he could whisper and Steve would still hear him, talking about eating Carol out or Carol tying him up or the first time he and Carol tried anal.

"Well, she did," he says, sighing, leaning back so he's shoulder to shoulder with Steve. "I told you before that she doesn't normally like when I come in her mouth, but she can't taste anything right now because of the cold, so she let me come in her mouth, then she, like, played with it?"

"Played with it?" he asks, shifting on the bed.

Tommy hums, "Mhm. Like, held it in her mouth, opened up wide to let me see it on her tongue. It was hot."

Steve lost most of the effect of the alcohol on the walk back home, but he's still a little bit buzzed, so he knows as soon as Tommy's done talking about it, he's going to excuse himself to the showers and wrap his hand around himself thinking about that - Carol with her mouth wrapped around Tommy, letting him paint her tongue with his come. Just the thought has him chubbing up in his jeans.

"Sounds hot," he says in agreement.

"It was." Tommy turns onto his side to face him and Steve looks over at him. "She sat on my face before that. She likes to get off before she gets me off," he says, looking into Steve's eyes.

"Okay," Steve says, not looking away.

Steve doesn't know how he's always so collected when he says stuff like that. His tone is calm and cool, like he's completely unaffected. The only giveaway that he's feeling anything at all about the words that come out of his mouth is that his face always gets so red, like he's almost embarrassed, but he still says it anyway.

Tommy leans a little closer and puts his hand on Steve where he's a little hard in his pants. Steve is horny and a little buzzed, so he lets him, his heartbeat picking up.

Tommy just cups him through his pants at first, still looking at him. He leans in after a minute and presses a kiss to Steve's neck, just one, before leaning back

Steve lets him touch him through his pants and only stops to think about it when Tommy leans back and starts unbuttoning his pants.

He asks, "Why?" Just- why.

And Tommy answers, "I kind of cockblocked you earlier, right? It's only fair."

It's sort of true. He did come over and sling his arm around Steve's shoulders as he was putting the moves on some girl. She left pretty quickly after that, but he didn't have much hope there anyway and it's not like he's hard up for it or anything. He hooks up a lot so it's not exactly a hardship to hang with his best friend when he's a little drunk.

But it still doesn't make him stop Tommy when he gets his pants undone. He even lifts his hips to help when Tommy starts dragging them down his thighs. Tommy helps get them all the way off and settles back on his side next to him.

He sucks in a breath when Tommy's hand touches him through his underwear, where he's most of the way hard now, just this light touch that makes Steve's brain whir a little bit.

"What about Carol?" he asks, his breath getting a little bit faster with Tommy's hand so close to touching him for real.

Tommy stills his hand on him. "You know we're kind of open. I told you that," he says.

"I didn't realize that included men for you," Steve says, looking at him and putting his hand on Tommy's, moving it for him along Steve's dick, back and forth, as he gets harder.

Tommy grins at him and says, "It includes you," all casual, like it doesn't make Steve's blood boil, a flame lit up inside him.

"For Carol too?" he asks meanly, almost baring his teeth at the thought.

Tommy laughs. "Why? You wanna fuck my girl?" he asks, leaning in so close that Steve can feel his breath on his mouth.

"Maybe," he quips back, licking his lips, Tommy's eyes following the movement.

"Take these off," Tommy says, snapping the waistband of his briefs back onto his skin.

Steve complies, shoving his briefs off. "You're more demanding than I thought you'd be in bed," he says.

"You think about me in bed often?" Tommy asks. Steve gasps in a breath as he puts his hand back on him, wrapping his fist around him.

"The two of you. Sometimes."

Tommy hums, stroking his hand up and down Steve's length. "When you touch yourself?"

"Yeah," Steve pants out, closing his eyes as Tommy plays with the head of his cock, his thumb pressing into the sensitive nerves along the frenulum. "I think about the stuff you tell me. Like, if you weren't doing this, I'd be in the shower thinking about your come on Carol's tongue."

He can hear the smile in Tommy's voice when he says, "I always kind of hoped that's what you were doing when you would wander off after I talked about her."

"Is that why you do it? Because you wanted me to jerk off thinking about it?" he asks, curious. It worked, in any case.

"Not just that," he says. "I don't know, it's. Carol likes it, too. Likes to hear exactly what I told you. And she likes to talk about what she'd do to you if she had you in her bed."

"What would she do?" he asks, voice strained.

Tommy starts stroking him again. He says, "If you think I'm demanding, just wait until you hear Carol. It's like she's directing porn sometimes, the things she says. She wants you tied to the bed, my cock inside you, with her bouncing on your cock."

He can imagine it, all four of his limbs spread out and tied to the posts of the bed, Tommy between his thighs, Carol straddling him. He's never really thought about being tied up or held down, but, "I could get into that," he says.

"Yeah? You think we can make that happen, the three of us?" Tommy asks.

"Oh, for sure," he says, opening his eyes to look at him. And because he has to poke fun at Tommy a little bit, he asks, "You afraid if I get Carol alone, she's gonna realize I'm better in bed?" He bucks his hips up into Tommy's grip.

"I think that's a competition Carol would love to be the judge of," Tommy says, pulling his hand back.

"I bet she would," Steve says.

His breath stutters when Tommy slides down his body and settles between Steve's thighs, his head almost in his lap.

"Can I?" he asks, blinking up at him.

"Yeah," Steve whispers, bracing himself for it.

Tommy ducks his head and licks the precome gathered at the tip, closing his eyes like he's savoring it. Fuck.

He takes the head into his mouth and sucks lightly, pulling a gasp from Steve's throat. He licks at the head like it's all he wants to be doing, like he has all the time in the world.

He swirls his tongue along the sensitive skin under the head that he was playing with earlier before he slides his mouth further down, taking more of his cock.

Steve reaches down and pushes a hand through Tommy's hair, cradling the back of his head.

Tommy pulls back and says, "You can, uh, you know. You can direct me or whatever."

"Yeah?" Steve asks. "Can you take the whole thing?"

Tommy nods and opens his mouth back up, so Steve guides him back onto his cock, moving him down his cock. He stops when he feels the resistance of Tommy's throat, just keeps him there, on the precipice of it, for a moment, the head of his cock almost in his throat. He can savor this too, the feeling of Tommy's throat opening for him.

Tommy relaxes his throat and lets Steve bully his cock further in until his nose is nestled in the coarse hair of his pubes. He's breathing shallowly through his nose and Steve can feel it tickling the hair there.

The feeling is heady, having his cock squeezed by Tommy's throat, the feeling of him swallowing around him making Steve ears ring, making his eyes cross.

He pulls him off his cock and lets him breathe for a second before he says, "Tap me if you need me to stop, okay?"

"I will," Tommy says, putting his mouth back on him, eager.

Steve puts both bands in Tommy's hair and plants his feet on the bed to fuck up into Tommy's mouth.

He drops his head back on the pillow beneath him and keeps shallowly fucking his mouth. It's warm and wet and his throat is tight around him whenever he pushes into it. He's close already, from Tommy touching him, from feeling Tommy's mouth wrapped around him, because it's Tommy making him feel like this.

He can feel his balls drawing up - they're so wet with Tommy's spit.

That thought alone - Tommy getting him all messy and sloppy with his spit - is what pushes him over the edge. He comes with his cock buried deep in Tommy's throat, feeling him swallow around him, trying not to choke on it all.

Tommy taps his hip and Steve drops his hips and hands back on the bed, letting Tommy pull back off his cock at his own pace. He laps at the sensitive head, cleaning him up, and Steve shudders through it.

He lets Tommy lick and kiss his dick until it gets to be too much, the sensitivity turning the stinging pleasure sharper. He puts a hand back in Tommy's hair and tugs and Tommy pulls away with a parting kiss to his cock.

He crawls back up and settles next to Steve, back in the same position this started in, while Steve catches his breath.

Steve looks over at Tommy, ready to return the favor with his hand, maybe his mouth, but Tommy's pants are undone, and his shirt is splattered with his come.

Tommy sees him looking and has the nerve to blush. He shrugs and says, "I came when you were fucking my throat."

"You like it that much?"

"Yeah, I like it," he says. "I suck Carol's strap a lot and that always gets me off so quickly."

Steve's brain goes offline for a second, the thought of Tommy on his knees for Carol making him cock twitch - her strap down his fucking throat, his hand shoved into his pants as he takes it.

"Jesus christ," he says, flinging his forearm over his eyes.

He hears Tommy get up, hears him opening and closing drawers, cleaning himself up and changing into clothes that aren't covered in his come. He stays laying there, thinking about what just happened, thinking about what Tommy said earlier: wait til you hear Carol.

Tommy climbs back onto the bed with Steve. He cleans Steve up, uses a wet wipe on his dick where the come and spit have started to dry down. It's an intimate feeling, Tommy handling him with such care, looking after him.

He must toss the wipe somewhere because his hand settles on Steve's stomach under his shirt when he's done cleaning him up. Christ, he's still wearing his shirt, Winnie-the-Pooh-ing it this whole time.

"Do you do this a lot? With other guys?" Steve asks, biting his lip. He doesn't want to get his hopes up, but he does want to hear what Carol would say if he was in her bed with both of them. He might want more than that, if he's being totally honest with himself.

He lowers his arm and looks over at Tommy.

Tommy strokes his hand over Steve's stomach, making him shiver a little. He shakes his head. "Not really. I mean, I have before. But not recently. And they were never really who I wanted to be doing it with, so-" He cuts himself off, looking away for the first time all night.

Oh.

"Oh," Steve says.

"Yeah, oh," Tommy says, still not looking at him.

Steve reaches over and cups his chin, turning him back towards him. He says, "I said I thought about the two of you sometimes, but I also just think about you sometimes."

"Oh," Tommy says, a smile spreading across his face, the blush returning.

He realizes throughout this all, they haven't even kissed. He realizes that he wants to - wants to feel Tommy's mouth against his, wants to taste his come on his tongue, wants to kiss him until they're panting and raring to go again.

"Yeah, oh," Steve says, leaning in.

[is-on-its-way]

Fox Mulder and the Sundance Kid

I wrote something new even thought Im supposed to be working on my blocked WIP. Typical

Mulder once asked her to "keep going FBI woman" Scully wants him to ask her again after they start their relationship. Idk exactly when just sometime after you think they started getting together? inspired by this tweet: https://x.com/nadjatruther/status/1804672561831170518

Read below the fold, or on AO3

“Mulder where were you?” She said with pouty annoyance as he walked through her door.

“Sorry Scully, there was traffic” she looked at him with furrowed brow and pursed lips. She never liked when he ditched her, however loosely she defined it, he could see she was smarting.

“The guy rambled on and on and my phone died.” He provided while lowering his chin in apology

“Stop looking at me like that.” She chided, but he could see her tying not to smirk as she bent her head. 

“Come on.” She said taking his hand leading him to her bedroom. 

“Ooh Scully, where are you taking me?” He said in a mock suggestive tone that attempted to belie what was actually happening. He was still getting used to this. Was still in the habit of joking despite the fact they had slept over at each others places for six days of last seven days. That they were starting their days making breakfast together and ending most cooking dinner. That nothing had ever felt more serious

He sat on the end of her bed as she went to her closet. “Did he give you anything helpful at least?” She asked.

“Nope.” He sighed and leaned back on his elbow on the bed. “Just the ravings of an lunatic. No real evidence of anything he said.”

“Im sorry Mulder.” She said absentmindedly. 

“Its alright I still have one more lead I need to follow up on, if you want to come with tomorrow.” He offered.

“Yeah, sure.” She said preoccupied hanging what she had picked out on the door of her closet. She turned around to him and he felt something shift in the room. She walked across to him taking off her jacket, a glint of something wild in her eye that set the back of his neck on fire. 

She unlatched her gun from the holster at her hip and Mulder’s brows furrowed in confusion as she released the clip and tossed it on the bench at the foot of her bed. His eyes went wide watching her as she cleared out the bullet from the chamber tossing the little piece of metal to him. He picked it up and sat up as she found the place between his legs.

He put his hand up to her, where thigh met her hipbone “Scully what..?”

She took his hand off her hip and slipped the gun into his hand.

“Im going to take a shower” she said lowly “You wait right there FBI man.” She swallowed and eyed him a bit nervously, but he was looking at her in utter reverence and he nodded with a small smile.

She bit her lip and then turned back to the closet, took the clothing and vanished to the bathroom. He could not believe what she was asking for or, was it giving him? 

He looked down at her gun and turned it over. He popped the slide off and chuckled to himself. It was in pristine condition, it could’ve been brand new the way it shined. She probably cleaned it once a week. He felt an overwhelming sense of affection for her as he thought about his gun currently in need of a deep cleaning he'd been putting off for months. 

He slid the slide back on and got up off the bed to turn the lights off. He didn’t return to the spot shed requested though. Instead finding her armchair in the faint light from the outside street lamp. 

He listened to the shower’s water hitting the tub and drifted into his thoughts about her about the scene from Butch Cassidy that he once repeated a line from in a moment of desperation and hopelessness. He had killed a man and he went to her for help and when she entered he couldn’t help himself but make the joke. Or imply what he wanted from her. He sometimes couldn’t tell where that line was demarcated.

And now, he was waiting for her in the dark again gun in his hand. Knowing the line no longer mattered, anticipation for her killing him.

He heard the shower knobs squeak as she turned them off, and felt a surge of adrenaline rush from his chest through his heart, quickening its rate. He swallowed and adjusted in the seat waiting for her to open the door. 

He heard the bathroom door open and her feet creaking the wood floor. She stoped at the door for a moment and he bit the corner of his lip inhaling a deep breath. He placed the gun in his lap and resting his hands on the arms of the chair.

The door opened and a sliver of light fell across the room, her silhouette in a light cotton robe. She had even gotten an outfit that looked similar. He resisted the urge to go to her and pick her up and carry her to bed.

She walked to the dresser and turned on the small lamp. Pulling at the tie to her robe.

“Keep going FBI woman.”

She startled at the direction of his voice, expecting him to be on the bed where she left him and he fought a smile at how successfully it had worked.

She twirled around to find him and let out a breath watching him.

He picked up the gun from his lap and rested his elbow lazily on the chair arm, gun pointing to the wall just to the side of her. 

“Don’t mind me.” He said and he saw her eyes narrow. His jaw muscle danced.

She stood with her arms limp at her sides and he played with the hammer of the gun, forcing her to comply. She raised her chin as she let the ties of her rob fall open to reveal a button up white nightgown that fell well above her knees. The top catching between her breasts. He felt his blood rush.

She shook the robe off and held it up in front of her shielding her body from him in a way that made his breath catch in his throat.

“Take off that towel.” He commanded in a gentle tone.

She reached up and the robe fell to the floor as the hem of her nightie was pulled up to reveal a triangle of light at the top of her thighs. 

What he wouldn’t give to be right there in this moment. But then it disappeared as she let down her wet hair and dropped the towel to the floor.

He nodded at her and then cocked the gun for real motioning for her to keep undressing. 

She gave him a long look and then her lips parted and her hand went to the buttons on her night gown. She looking at him, slowly slowly making her way down. Past her breasts. Past her belly button. To the bottom. She stood watching him, nightgown parted covering most of her breasts but revealing she hadn’t bothered to put on underwear.  

He tightened his grip on her gun, decocked it, and placed it on the side table. He put his hand to his own gun shifting his hips while not taking his eyes from hers. He unholstered it checking the safety with a finger and putting it next to hers. 

He stood. Making his way to her. He felt her eyes on his face as his eyes followed his fingers, whispering along her belly button across to her ribcage brushing the fabric away. She shivered at his touch.

He could hear her swallow and he tore his eyes away from her body to look at her face. Her eyes were closed, head tilted to the side. 

“You know what I wish?”

“What?” He said in a gravelly voice sliding his other hand across her body.

Her eyes shot open “That just once you’d show up on time.” She said it with such convincing emotion that he growled as grabbed her up into his arms. She inhaled in surprise and met his lips wrapping her arms around his neck as he carried her to bed.

@today-in-fic 🙏

[aylacavebear]

Stockroom Antics - Chapter 7

Maria had changed jobs numerous times over the last five years, more to keep herself safe than anything else. Her mother had told her she was a fairy but she thought it was just her mom being weird. Honestly, though, she had no other way of explaining what had happened to her that stormy day before she'd gone into a coma for two weeks.

Please don't take my work. I'll post warnings for each chapter. Will probably be 18+ I haven't decided yet!

Word Count: 3522

Pairing eventually Dean Winchester x OC

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This chapter switches back and forth on POV's. This one's written a little differently than my last one. Let me know what you think. It's the first time I've tried this type of writing. Chapters will alternate viewpoints as well. I also looked into an actual area so this one could feel more realistic.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 7

Your POV As you finished out your shift, you noticed that he was still watching you, as well as when his partner left. You didn’t go talk to him, nor did he with you. Something else that relieved you was that there didn’t seem to be any demons in the store anymore, which helped you relax. Sarah bugged you about the date, teasing you a bit. 

When five rolled around, you were feeling slightly excited about your date with this stranger and quickly clocked out, bidding your coworkers farewell for the night. You didn’t even notice the Impala in the parking lot as you headed on your way. During the drive, you went through all sorts of questions you wanted to ask him, including finding out what the hell his name was.

“Shit,” you grumbled as you saw the pile of ashes still on the inside of your property line.

You sighed, parked your truck, and headed into your backyard, grabbing the flathead shovel before going back out front. You dragged the trashcan over and cleaned up most of the ashes. It looked like it had to come from at least three demons, although you weren’t entirely sure.

“At least the warding worked,” you mumbled aloud, feeling rather proud of yourself before you put everything away and headed inside.

It was a quarter to six, and the bar was only about five minutes from your house. You didn’t want to overdo it and dress up too much, so you picked out a simple spaghetti strap, black dress, and a pair of black flats to go with it. Then you pulled on a dark blue flannel, tying it so it looked like a half top, leaving it unbuttoned. You left your hair down. Dinner was leftovers since you’d prepared a week's worth of meals for yourself over the prior weekend you had off—chicken with mashed potatoes and gravy, corn on the side.

The time ticked by, sometimes slowly, other times quickly, and before you knew it, it was time to head to the bar. You’d decided that you would stick to somewhat safe topics to start with, and depending on how he answered would depend on how deep your questions would venture. You parked in the dirt area of the parking lot, noticing that he hadn’t gotten there yet. Part of you wondered if he’d actually show.

The bar wasn’t busy since it was the middle of the week, and you found several empty seats near the far side of the bar. When one of the bartenders came over and asked what you wanted, you asked for a double shot of whiskey, at least to start with. She smiled and poured your drink. At first, you just sipped it, but when seven-thirty rolled around, you downed the shot that was left. 

“Jerk,” you mumbled, looking away from the door.

“What’s the matter?” the bartender asked you.

“Got stood up,” you sighed, “Could I get a beer?” 

“Sorry to hear about you getting stood up. I’ll have that beer back in a flash,” she replied, giving you a compassionate smile.

Your mind wandered, mostly about him. What was the point of him asking you if he wasn’t even going to show, you thought to yourself as the bartender set the beer down in front of you. You popped the top and began sipping it. It wasn’t like you lived far away; there was usually very little traffic late at night. Halfway through your beer, you heard the door open again and glanced over, raising an eyebrow. A soft scoff left your lips as you shook your head; he showed up.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

He’d spend the last half hour just sitting in the driver’s seat in the parking lot. Her truck was there. He wasn’t feeling all those things he had earlier when he was near her at the store; he just wasn’t entirely sure how to go about getting her to talk. It was clear she knew things as she’d warded her property. He just wasn’t sure how much she knew.

Dean finally took a deep breath and made his way inside, a quarter past seven. He looked around the bar, two pool tables to his left and the bar to his right, and there were tables and booth seats scattered on the other half of the bar. He saw her sitting alone and nursing a beer at the far side of the bar. One more deep breath, and he walked over to her.

“Still up for some company? And, I’m sorry I was late, forgot how long of a drive it was from town,” he told her, only half lying.

She shrugged her shoulders, “I guess so, since you’re here,” she replied without looking up at him.

He sighed and sat next to her on a barstool, “I really am sorry,” he told her again, meaning it.

The bartender came over, and he ordered a beer, which she retrieved, and he popped the top, taking a sip.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You weren’t entirely sure what to believe, but for now, you decided to give him at least the benefit of the doubt, “How about at least telling me your name,” you suggested, looking over at him.

He smirked a little, “I’m Dean. Thanks for staying,” he replied, sipping his beer.

He was in regular street clothes, jeans, a t-shirt, a flannel, and a jacket, and you were thankful you’d chosen what you had, “Nice to meet you, Dean. Are you allowed to tell me about this stakeout that involves my work?” you asked, raising a brow.

“Well, I could tell you, but I might get in trouble if I do,” he replied, and you could have sworn he was flirting, but it was hard to tell. The man seemed just to be naturally charming.

You smirked, “You look like the kind of guy who’s used to getting into trouble,” you replied, deciding just to be yourself and be playful, even teasing him a little. You still needed information, after all.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

He wasn’t feeling those same things he had when he’d been around her at the store, but he still found her more interesting than he should have. Dean was grateful she’d decided to stay but knew he’d have to keep his wits about him. She was quick with her comebacks, something he wasn’t used to from women.

“It’s been known to happen from time to time,” he chuckled.

Dean watched her, noticing how relaxed she looked as she leaned a bit on the counter, her hand on her beer, sipping it from time to time. 

She glared at him playfully, “You like being vague, don’t you?” she asked, although it was rhetorical, and he knew it.

“Looks like you can read me like an open book, Sweetheart,” he replied, shaking his head and still smiling before he sipped his beer.

“I’m working on it,” she mused, “So, what can you tell me?”

He’d prepared for this, figuring she was going to ask, “There’s a group of people in the area that are trafficking people, mostly women. It’s happened before, but we still haven’t gotten the ringleader. This isn’t the first time we’ve been in the area,” he explained to her, hoping he’d buy his story.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You didn’t watch the news. There were too many bad things going on in the world as it was, and you didn’t want to know just how bad it really was out there. You didn’t live terribly far from the border, so his story at least made sense to you. You’d know people when you were a teenager who had run drugs over the border for the cartels, even if you had never been involved with any of it.

It still seemed as though he was hiding something; you noticed it in his eyes, “How many times have you been to this area?” you asked, seeing just how far you could push.

You noticed how he sipped his beer like he was debating an answer, “More times than I’d like to admit in the last five years,” he replied, sighing.

That sparked something in you, but you managed to hide it from your expression, “What brought you here the first time?” you asked curiously.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

He had to really think about how to answer her. It wasn’t like he could tell her it was because of the hardest monsoon the place had seen, when the F0 had touched down in the area due to demonic activity. Dean took a sip of his beer.

“That was when the trafficking started, and my partner and I got assigned to the case,” he told her. It was mostly true.

“Huh,” she replied, then looked away from him and sipped her beer.

He tried to read her, but she wasn’t easy to read. It was like a challenge to him, and he had already decided he was going to face it head-on, “You seem surprised,” he mused, putting on his signature smirk.

“Kind of. That’s when I got into a car accident. There was a really bad storm the next day. At least that’s what my family told me after I woke up from the coma I was in,” she replied, seeming somewhat casual, but at the same time, it almost sounded like she was digging for information out of him.

“I’m sorry to hear about that. Was it a bad one?” he asked, wondering just where she was headed with things and how much she might divulge.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You glanced over at him, tilting your head a bit, “Figured you had read up on me. You’ve been watching me at work more than my other co-workers. It’s kind of obvious that you and your partner have been keeping an eye on me,” you told him, plainly, but confidently.

He may have asked you out for a drink, but how he and his partner had been watching you at work had been enough to know that they knew something. You were also second-guessing whether or not he was a real FBI agent as well. Since he’d shown up late, it was time to get to the point of things carefully.

Dean didn’t seem to answer you right away, although he hadn’t stopped looking at you, even when he sipped his beer, “Alright. Yeah. I read your file, but it only contains the technical details.”

You watched him, almost studied him as he answered. He knew more than he was letting on, and you knew it, “I honestly don’t remember it. I blacked out the moment my car plowed into the back of that rig. Then, I woke up in a hospital bed two weeks later,” you explained, then looked away from him.

A quiet sigh left your lips as you looked down at the counter, “I should have died in that wreck from what I was told.”

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

Dean watched how she moved slightly, where her eyes shifted. He was pretty sure she knew she was at least different than a normal human, “I’m glad you’re okay. Otherwise, I wouldn’t be able to have drinks with you tonight,” he told her with a slight smirk.

She turned to face him, tilting her head just a bit, “So, why are you and your partner watching me, in particular? I know that’s why you asked me out for drinks,” she asked, blunter than he’d been prepared for.

He couldn’t hide all the surprise of her bluntness. He even chuckled at her bluntness, shaking his head slightly. However, Dean had prepared for this question as well.

“Well, Sweetheart, you’re the only connection to all the places that have been hit,” he told her, finishing his beer.

It was her turn to be surprised. Dean had spent his whole life learning how to read people, and it was clear to him that she was attempting to hide something. He just wasn’t sure how far he could push her or if she’d even knew what she was.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You momentarily froze as your chest tightened and your breathing became shallow. That was the one thing you’d hoped he wouldn’t put together. Dean was clearly more intelligent than he had been letting on.

“So you think they’re after me,” you sighed, signaling the bartender, “I’ll have that whiskey now.”

She nodded at you, then got your drink. You took a sip. Dean was clearly waiting till the bartender left before speaking again.

“You fit the profile, physically. My partner and I don’t want anything to happen to you,” he finally answered, seeming concerned. “When I asked you about the sulfur smell that first day, I questioned you. You’ve smelled it before, haven’t you?” he pushed, but you could tell he was trying to get you to talk more.

You sighed, taking another sip of your whiskey, “Yeah,” you paused, staring more at the bottles on the shelves behind the bar. For a moment, you pursed your lips, debating your following statement, “You’re not FBI, are you? Just like you aren’t asking me about any crime ring. You’re asking me about demons.” 

You could see his reaction from your peripheral, causing a slight smirk to tug at the corner of your lips. That was all you needed as an answer to your question.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

Dean barely managed not to choke on his beer with your question. For a moment, all he could do was look at you. He’d prepared for all kinds of ways tonight would go, but your bluntness and knack for reading him was still throwing him off.

He chuckled slightly, shaking his head, deciding just to be honest, “You’re right, I’m not FBI. Yes, I was asking you about demons. I was honest, though. I do believe they’re after you.”

She sighed, sipping her whiskey again, and he tilted his head. He still wondered if she knew what she was. The fact that she was able to keep her expression somewhat void of emotions was something that intrigued him, as it made it hard for him to read her.

“My brother and I want to keep you safe, but we can’t do that if you don’t open up to me,” he told her, trying to reassure her, even if he was a stranger to her.

“Brother, huh?” she chuckled, “I know you’re not a demon. I also know if I can trust you.”

“Yeah, he’s my younger brother. We do this sort of thing a lot. It’s kind of the family business,” he replied, sipping his beer.

That was when he explained everything to her: how he’d been raised in the life, the things they hunted, and the things they’d investigated over the last five years when it came to this particular case. Dean left out that he knew what she was, though. He hoped she’d open up a little more now that he’d been more upfront with her.

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You took a deep breath, as that was a lot to take in. You’d never met nor heard of a hunter before, but it made sense. Monsters did need to be handled by something. The bartender refilled your whiskey, seeing your glass empty. 

“I couldn’t imagine living like that,” you said, almost feeling bad about how the brothers were raised.

“Well, someone’s gotta step up, and we like being able to save people,” he replied, giving you a softer smile than you’d seen all night.

For a bit, your mind wandered. Something inside you told you he was being honest and that you could trust him. It was a new feeling, as it had never happened with a stranger before.

You shifted on your barstool to face him again, studying his expression, “I know I’m different, at least since my accident. My mom said I was a fairy, but after all the research I did, it just didn’t fit.”

The way he seemed to consider your words, pursing his lips briefly, made you tilt your head a bit. He did know something, far more than what he’d already said.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

Again, he had to take a moment, although he was thankful she’d finally admitted what she knew. The part that puzzled him was what she said about her mom, which only made more questions in his mind.

“You’re not a fairy. You’re what's called a Pari. It’s similar to a fairy but more powerful. How does your mom know about that stuff? If it’s not too personal to ask,” he told her, wanting to keep her talking.

The bartender brought another beer for Dean, taking his empty before walking away.

He watched her tilt her head, a somewhat puzzled look on her face, “My mom said it was in my bloodline. She told me she dreams of another place where there are more like me. I started dreaming of it too, after my accident,” she explained.

“Well, now, that wasn’t quite what I was expecting,” he said, still a bit surprised, “Pari are from a different dimension; at least, that’s what we could find in the lore. Some people carry a gene that gets turned on when they are in a near-death experience. If my brother and I were back at our place, I’m sure there’s better information there.”

----------------------------------------- Your POV

Sarah was going to have a field day with how this ‘date’ was going, you thought to yourself. You thought about what he said: Pari, a different dimension, carrying a gene. What were you even supposed to do with that information, and how were you supposed to keep yourself safe? Too many thoughts and not enough time to process it all.

“So, what happens now? I mean… It’s clear that demons are after me because of what I am. But I mean…” you trailed off and sighed, looking down at your drink.

“You could come with me and my brother. We can take you somewhere safe where they won’t be able to find you,” he told you, seeming genuine.

“For how long?” you asked, trying not to sound sad at the thought of having to hide for the rest of your life.

“At least until we can figure out what the demons want with you,” he explained.

The two of you sat silently for a few minutes while you sipped your whiskey, carefully considering what he suggested. Your friends and family, as did your home and job, wandered into your thoughts. 

“What about my job? I can’t just walk away,” you asked, still not looking over at him.

----------------------------------------- Dean's POV

She looked so sad to him at that moment, “My brother and I can take care of that part. Can you be ready to go in the morning?” he asked, hopeful. 

At least this way, she’d be in the bunker where they could keep an eye on her. Plus, they would have the books and research at their fingertips to figure out more about her. Now, all he had to do was get her to agree, and then he had to break the news to his brother.

There was another long silence, but he let it linger, letting her think and process it all. He watched her sip her whiskey as he sipped his beer.

“Will you be picking me up in the morning?” she asked, somewhat quietly, and he could tell she was sad.

Dean sighed, “Yeah. I can be there around nine. It will give you time to get your things together and wake up. I’ll let my brother know when I head back to the motel tonight.”

“Then I’ll see you in the morning,” she told him, finishing her drink.

When she stood and reached for her wallet, he stopped her, “I did still ask you out tonight. I got the bill.”

----------------------------------------- Your POV

You looked up at him, his hand on your arm. Even with the strength you felt from him, his touch was soft, almost gentle. It surprised you.

“Uh, thanks,” you replied, a bit unsure of how you felt toward him at the moment.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he told you, giving you a friendly smile.

As you walked away, you only glanced back once, over your shoulder at him. Then, you headed home. Your thoughts raced, but your movements were slow once you got inside your place. There was a duffle bag in the bottom of your closet, which you pulled out and tossed on your bed. Since he hadn’t given you a time frame, you packed a decent amount of clothes, your toiletries, and some personal effects that were dear to your heart.

All in all, you had your duffle bag, a crate with a mix of toiletries and personal items, your backpack with your journal, coloring items, and more miscellaneous needs and keepsakes. Lastly was your purse, which you hardly ever used. You put your wallet, phone charger, pocket knife, and other little tidbits in. 

You sighed once it was all stacked neatly by your front door and then changed into something comfortable for the night. So far, you haven’t messaged anyone about what was going on. You weren’t sure if it was even a good idea to say anything. You weren’t even in the mood to read Tumblr that night.

----------------------------------------- Chapter 8

Link to the series Master List

A/N: If you'd like to be tagged in future chapters, leave me a comment, and I'll make sure to tag you.

[cheerscoops]

ship: Eddie Munson/Nancy Wheeler wc: 1.6k A/N: late post because the blorbos were blorboing, and I have emotions about these two idiots

“I don't think I'm going to make it home tonight,” Nancy told her mom over the phone. “If the snow stops and the roads don't look too bad, I might try to drive home later, but Mr. Munson doesn't think it's safe enough to go out unless it's absolutely necessary. He already said that it’s fine if I stay here for the night. I promise I’ll call you if anything changes, okay?”

If Nancy had known that agreeing to tutoring Eddie at the Munson trailer was going to lead to her having to spend the night, she might have been a little more insistent about sticking to their normal library meeting spot. It wasn’t that she hated the idea of having to stay over there. She just felt bad being another person taking up space in their home when Eddie’s uncle already slept on a cot in the living room due to the lack of space. 

After getting off the phone with her mom, she moved to take her seat across from Eddie at the kitchen table again.

“So, how about we do one more problem set, and then we can call it a night?” she suggested, flipping through her chemistry notes to find some practice equations that they hadn’t done yet.

Eddie flopped forward to rest his head on the table.

“I will actually die if I have to balance one more equation. My head will explode. Can we please do anything else?”

“I thought you wanted to pass this chemistry test? You need more practice.”

“Think of my uncle, Nance. What’ll he do without me?”

“Probably get some peace and quiet for the first time in my life,” Wayne said without looking up from where he was sitting on the sofa tying his work boots.

Nancy stifled a laugh as Eddie shot back up into a sitting position and stared at his uncle with a look of pure shock and betrayal.

“If you really need a break from studying so much, why don’t you make your guest some dinner?” Wayne suggested. “If she’s staying over, you should probably offer to feed her.”

“Of course. Where are my manners?” Eddie said, resting his arms on the table and leaning forward to smile at Nancy. “Welcome to Chez Munson. It would be my honor to make dinner for you.”

“Real food, too. Don't go offering her spaghettios or whatever other canned junk you eat when I'm not around.”

“You don't have to go to any trouble for me,” Nancy insisted. “I'm fine with whatever.”

Eddie ignored her and turned his attention towards his uncle.

“Want me to save you a plate of whatever it ends up being?”

“Sure. Stick it in the microwave, and I'll reheat it when I get home.”

“Any preferences?”

“Surprise me.”

“Can do. Stay safe out there. Don't drive like I do.”

“Wouldn't dream of it.”

Wayne said his goodbyes, and as soon as he was out the door, Eddie was up and out of his seat searching through the kitchen cabinets and checking the fridge to see what he could make.

“You really don't have to go to any trouble for me,” Nancy said as she watched him start to rummage through the cabinet of pots and pans.

“Who says I'm going to any trouble?” he asked. “Maybe I do this all the time.”

“You do?”

“A guy's gotta eat. When my uncle started working nights, I started messing around in the kitchen because I found out he was never eating a hot meal. Just eating cereal or a bologna sandwich when he came home from a shift. And it's fine if I eat garbage, but I'm not gonna let him live like that after everything he's done for me, you know? I almost burnt the place down a couple times, but I haven't gotten any complaints yet.”

Nancy was touched by his story. Truthfully, she still didn't know much about Eddie. For the most part, he was just the guy that she tutored twice a week, but they'd slowly been becoming friends. She liked spending time with him, and finding out things like this - pieces of him she was sure not many other people knew - only made her grow even fonder of him.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” she asked.

“I think I've got it covered. You can go watch TV if you want. When I cook for a beautiful woman, she doesn't have to lift a finger?”

“So you're in the habit of cooking for beautiful women?”

“You're the first actually. Now get out of here so I can work my magic.”

He shooed her out of the kitchen, and she went to go sit on the couch, but she was too preoccupied with the fact that he'd called her beautiful to focus on anything on TV. Since when did Eddie think she was beautiful? She was under the impression that their relationship was strictly professional, but even she couldn't deny that she felt something whenever he smiled at her.

When Eddie eventually made his way over to the couch, he was carrying two identical plates of food loaded up with breaded chicken cutlets, stovetop stuffing, and canned peas and carrots.

“It's nothing fancy, but I guarantee it'll taste good.”

They ate mostly in silence as Eddie channel-surfed trying to find something decent for them to watch.

“Color me impressed,” Nancy said after they'd finished dinner. “I didn't expect that from you.”

“It was because of my uncle's spaghettios comment, wasn't it?”

“You just didn't seem like the cooking type.”

“If it wasn't for him, I probably wouldn't be.”

“Don't sell yourself short. You're good at this.”

“Thanks.”

Eddie smiled over at her, and she felt herself focusing on his lips. She couldn't let that happen, so she jumped up and grabbed their empty plates off the coffee table.

“Let me do the clean up,” she said as she headed towards the kitchen. “You cooked, so it's only fair.”

“Absolutely not.” Eddie moved to cut her off and blocked her from the sink. “You're the guest. I'm not letting you clean up the mess left behind by my cooking tornado.”

“I really don't mind,” she insisted.

“I'll never hear the end of it from my uncle if I let you clean up. He's used to coming home to my messes, so we don't have to worry about that right now.”

“Are you sure?” She eyed the dirty pots and pans on the stove. “It feels wrong to leave them there.”

“It's fine. I promise. You don't have to help clean up to earn your keep here. If that was the case, I would've been kicked out a long time ago. Just leave them for now.”

“Fine. But the second you're distracted, I'm doing those dishes.”

“I guess I've gotta keep myself fully focused on you then.”

“I guess so.”

“Wanna do something kind of stupid?” he asked.

“Depends on how stupid it is.”

“Put on your coat and shoes.”

Nancy quirked an eyebrow, but Eddie didn't allow her to question him. He just ushered her closer to the door before doubling back to grab a comforter from the closet. He took her outside and had her sit down on the edge of the stoop with him. He wrapped the comforter around their shoulders and held it closed in front of them to try and trap some extra warmth between them.

“Sitting out here is your something stupid?” she asked.

“Frostbite is no joke. Hence the comforter.”

The worst of the blizzard had passed but the snow was still falling in fat, fluffy flakes. The sky was dark, and there was a sense of calm washing over the trailer park. The only real light was from the stars.

“It's beautiful.” Nancy's voice was barely louder than a whisper as if she was afraid that her speaking would ruin the moment.

“I know.”

“Do you do this often?”

“Only when I need to think about something.”

“What are you thinking about now?”

“I don't know. That I like spending time with you, and I think you like spending time with me, too. That this is easy. That it feels right.”

Nancy was quiet again as she let his words wash over her. He was right. Spending time with him like this felt right. That's when she was hit by a somewhat startling realization.

“You cooked me dinner and wouldn't let me help or clean,” she started. “You took me out to your thinking spot to look at the stars. You called me beautiful . . . Was this a date?”

“Nah. This wasn't a date.” He turned to meet her gaze. “When I finally ask you out for real, you'll know.”

“So you're planning on asking me out?”

“As soon as I find the right moment.”

“And this isn't it?”

“You're stuck here for the night. It feels wrong to ask when you can't leave. Puts too much pressure on you to answer a certain way, and I don't want to do that to you.”

“Ask me tomorrow before I leave then?”

“I'll consider it.”

Eddie went to stand up and pulled Nancy up with him.

“Let's go back inside. I'll clean up the kitchen, and if you really wanna help, I'll let you dry the dishes. Then we can watch a movie or something. I'll even lend you some pajamas so you don't have to sleep in your jeans.”

“Sounds perfect.”

When Wayne came home from his shift, he found Nancy and Eddie snuggled up together fast asleep under the comforter on the couch bathed in the soft glow of the light from the television set. He microwaved his dinner - making sure to stop it without it dinging - and made his way back to Eddie's bedroom so he wouldn't disturb them. To him, it looked like his nephew had finally won over his dream girl.

[attackfish]

@candleslitsnow asked: "What if when Zuko rerouted Azula's lightning through his heart during their final Agni Kai, it actually killed him? I'm imagining Katara still wins the fight but realizes afterward that he died."

I in fact have an AU where Azula kills Zuko in the Agni Kai: [Link]. Fair warning, the person who prompted me for that one did not like how I filled the prompt, and I had to ban them after they got nasty about it. Also The first fill in this AU was one of the first five headcanon prompts I ever answered, so I didn't have my feet under me yet, and at the risk of sounding pretentious, my philosophy of five headcanons has changed. Oh, and in this scenario, Zuko was obviously dead, and Katara, in the subsequent fight, kills Azula.

1. A fourteen year old killing another fourteen year old doesn't do great things for the kid who did the killing. It doesn't matter that the kids she had killed had just killed her friend, and was going to kill her. It is still horrible. It still leaves Katara, when there is no one around to watch, shaking with it. When she closes her eyes, she sees Azula's face as she suffocates, trapped inside the ice. She hears Zuko's ragged scream, then his moans, then his whimpers, then his silence. And maybe, when she's feeling most self-pitying, she wonders if maybe how understanding Aang is being about it, doesn't make it worse.

2. Aang didn't kill Ozai. He was able to spare him as Katara didn't spare Azula. And he is so understanding about it, so sympathetic. She couldn't take away Azula's bending. She had no choice. It's horrible, and he's sorry she had to do that. But Katara... She knows there was a moment there, when she could have chained Azula. She had her trapped in ice. She could have chained her. But instead, she let her die. She knows this, but she can't tell Aang. She doesn't know which would be worse, if he rejected her, or if he didn't believe her, that she was misremembering, or her mind was playing tricks on her in her horror. But she knows what she did.

3. The one person who does understand, who Katara can go to, who gets it, is her dad. Hakoda knows what it means to go off to war, to take lives, to make devastating choices. And it's into the company of her father and the Southern Water Tribe warriors that Katara retreats, and finds solace, and maybe, the beginnings of self acceptance.

4. Let's take a moment to think about Mai. Barely a month before, Mai put her life on the line to stop Azula from killing Zuko. She went to prison for it. Now she is out of prison, and Zuko is dead anyway. Azula kied him anyway. And Azula is dead too. What good was any of it? What worth did it have? How is she supposed to go forward after this? And the rest of the world is moving on. The war is over, Iroh is on the throne, and people are happy. (How dare they be happy). The world is shifting around her, and she is stuck. No one is stuck on the same page with her, not even Ty Lee. It's different for Ty Lee. Mai stood up to Azula for Zuko, and he's dead. Ty Lee stood up to Azula for Mai, and Mai still alive. Zuko threw his life away after she saved him, and for what? And the worst part is, he didn't throw his life away. He made a difference. The world is changing around her because of the cause he fought for. But it wasn't the cause she ever fought for, and she doesn't know how to take that.

5. Iroh has now lost two sons in the same war, on two different sides. He sent each of them out to fight, for what he believed was right, and each time, he lived, and they did not. The first time he lost a son, he fell apart. He dragged himself home, and into the quiet darkness of his own rooms at the palace. He now understands that he was like a butterfly-wasp in its cocoon, and he would reemerge entirely changed, but back then all he wanted was to die, to not need to continue on. He was forced in that time, to reconsider everything heband his son had fought for, and to conclude it was less than worthless. He can't do that now. What Zuko died for was not worthless. And he has to be firelord, he has to honor the sacrifice his nephew made. He can't sink down into the depths of his own misery. He has work to do. He has to rule. He has to figure out what to do about the succession. He has to move forward. He hates it so much.

[mama-scarebear]

First off, I’d like to say welcome back! Been watching your blog recently and I’m a huge fan.

Secondly, I’d like to ask for some advice if I may? Domme to Domme. I have this little girl, sweet as angel cake most of the time, but she’s still a brat. Normally, when she brats she always stops short right before she gets into any trouble. (Chronic people pleaser, she doesn’t want to actually make me angry) but here lately she has been.. one hell of a heathen. I have no idea what’s gotten into her but she’s playing her part. I’m a soft Domme generally, but still sadistic so my spankings can be cruel. (As long as she allows it) and I think a spanking is what she’s seeking, so I’ve been getting creative in grounding her, lines, timeouts, etc but I’m running out of ideas and she isn’t.

We’re both on the autism spectrum, and she has a huge special interest in learning so I “homeschool” her. During one of her lessons last week, she kept mouthing off, not paying any attention and generally getting on my last nerve. So, she got about an hour long chat with my ruler and had to hold a bar of soap in her mouth until her assignment was finished.

That didn’t stop her behavior however. That day when I went to put her down for her nap she was so fussy. Way fussier than she normally was. Ran all around the house, hid from me, anything she could do. I finally got her wrangled, tightly tucked her in bed, set up her baby monitor and camera (she’s a fucking runner. She needs constant supervision) and locked the door. Admittedly, I let my guard down for a second, and got to working on dinner and forgot to check in camera for a little bit. When I did check it, it was covered. By the time I headed back there to open the door, the damn thing had crawled out of the window, and had come back through the back door. She hid for another 10 minutes, finally being able to sneak past me while I was looking for her and found all of her snacks, gorging herself sick on them. That particular stunt I’m still coming up with a good punishment for. I’m honestly a bit stumped. I feel like nothing has been working lately.

I’d like to clarify, I’m not actually angry or frustrated with her. I really do enjoy the game of cat and mouse here, but I’m running out of punishments and what to do. She’s pulling stunts faster than I can keep up with. So my question is, what would you do in my shoes? Is there anyway I can quell this kid?

So firstly I'd just like to say that I'm not a part of your relationship so any advice I do give is to be done so with a hefty grain of salt. Before I do give ideas for punishments the fact that this has been (as far as I can tell from your message) a sudden and recent shift in her behavior from chronic people pleaser to extreme brat is a bit of a yellow flag. It's a warning sign to at least make sure everything is going OK on their side of things. If this hasn't been something thoroughly discussed and built up to and is a sudden shift into this level of bratty behavior it would make me want to examine and ask my partner if there if everything is OK. Sometimes misbehaving to get punishments is just that and sometimes it's more and it's important as dominants to make the distinction and act accordingly.

Now for the fun

Whenever it comes to punishments I'm a suckered for tying it back to the original offense. You seem to be caught in the classic loop of "these are the archetypal punishments but none are working what else can I do?". The best solution to that is to remember everything in a large enough quantity or when done certain ways is a punishment. For instance her little snack fiasco shows she wants snacks. Give some to her. When she feels full? You keep giving her some. Keep going and going until she's fit to pop. The stomach ache she'll endure will be the punishment. She wants to interrupt you constantly? That's fine. Let her speak her little head off and tally up every minute she does so. Next day she gets a lovely little gag to keep her quiet for just as many hours. Let her learn that any slack in her leash you give can be tightened and used to choke her. Lines and spankings are classics but they're ineffective at putting a message across.

Theres also the deprivation route. She likes to run off? Hobble her at home until walking is earned once more. She likes to interrupt and everything else has failed? Talking is a privilege that can be taken. Remind her that it is by your good graces she isn't bedridden and helpless.

Also on a final note. Some bondage at naptime seems a smart idea. A locking collar with a locked leash so she can't run off. Best of luck

[kar-krashew]

Pls tell about your malec AUs

omg what a completely unprompted ask <3 /j (ty for asking ily)

Cars au pt 3: of my many malec aus, the most out of pocket one was obviously the cars au, which had a 3rd installment that i never published! this entire fic was meant to be magnus and alec going through a bunch of domestic bs while magnus absolutely accosted alec with cars based innuendo. this was to replace the original 3rd installment of the cars au, which was meant to be a very long winded cars 2 au that i do drop hints towards in the 2nd cars au (hence, the "import-export business" line by izzy, it's a line i took from finn mcmissile) there was a lot of research (watching cars 2 multiple times) that went into that one but i didnt like it after a while for personal reasons and also it would end up canonizing sizzy which i wasnt vibing with entirely. if i ever finished it it would have been the proposal scene, instead of simon (mater) “messing up” Alec’s (mcqueen’s) big race it would be the big race + proposal attempts, and the final proposal would happen in the clock tower scene where instead of just the spy trio, malec would be there too but the plot got contrived pretty fast sjfjfk so I scrapped it. However, the car innuendo fic would instead be the “I love you” fic, because love confessions always pair well with crack! That’s my life motto.

Part of the WIP below:

Alec’s brushing his teeth one morning when it starts: Magnus seats himself on the counter, leans in seductively, whispers, “Is that a gearstick in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?” and Alec spends the next two minutes choking on his toothpaste.

“What,” he coughs, “What the hell–”

Magnus simply bites his lip and winks. “How about the full service, darling?” He takes advantage of Alec’s respite from coughing to shrug his robe off of one shoulder, highlighting the fading marks there. “I could even throw in a free lube job.”

“Oh my god,” Alec says. He’s not sure what it means about himself, but whatever Magnus is doing is definitely working.

“What do you say, Alexander?” Magnus scoots even closer to the edge of the counter, trapping Alec’s hips between his calves, who shifts willingly. “Would you like to inspect my rear bumper?”

“Oh my god.” How are these only getting worse? “If I come back to the bedroom, will you stop?”

“Hm,” Magnus hums. He loops his arms around Alec’s neck. “I suppose I could be convinced with a ride.”

Alec groans. “For the record, this is the worst way you’ve tried to initiate sex.”

“Perhaps, but you can’t say it was unsuccessful. After all, you seem well on your way to plugging my tailpipe.”

Alec has to kiss him before he can say anything worse.

flower shop au: THIS ONE WAS SO ELITE. honestly still considering writing this one out, I ran this by (aka memed about) @\peachygos a few times too because that is how most of my aus start and it was my take on the stained biker x flowershop employee ! It’s flowershop!alec and biker!magnus but more nuanced than that, obviously, as I am a strong advocator for Alec getting in his Slutty era aka being the. (For lack of better term) h*rnier out of the two because I believe in flowershop au equality. Magnus would obviously be himself but by god Alec is soo horny like. canonically and I would simply be making him in character aka incredibly gay for Magnus and, since he won’t be like in an InstitutionThatHatesTheGaysTM he will simply be so gay the whole time. Biker Magnus who is like I would like some flowers haha hi Vs flower guy Alec who is like heart eyes sultry eyes the whole time. This got incoherent and I am very sorry about that but yes !

MegaMind au: once again incredibly unnecessary and stupid <3 i will not elaborate on this but I DID manage to make it a lot gayer and serious than you’d think